Seb switched on the ignition and revved the engine, but he was only at the side of the lorry by the time the second guard stepped out of the Mercedes and began walking toward the boss’s daughter. The chauffeur was opening the rear door as Seb pulled up by the car. He waved frantically at Priya, who ran out into the street, jumped onto the back of the bike and clung onto him. The guard reacted immediately and charged toward them. Seb was trying to accelerate away when he lunged at him, causing Seb to swerve and almost unseat his passenger. The guard narrowly avoided being hit by a passing taxi and landed spread-eagled in the street.
Seb quickly recovered and maneuvred the bike into the center lane with Priya clinging on. The guard leapt up and gave chase, but it was an unequal contest. Once he had seen which way the bike turned at the end of the street, Seb’s fourth mistake, the guard immediately changed direction and ran into the shop.
When Mrs. Ghuman was told the news, she screamed at a petrified shop assistant, “Where’s the nearest phone?” Before she could reply, the manager, hearing the outburst, reappeared and led Mrs. Ghuman into her office. She closed the door and left her alone, while her customer dialed a number she rarely phoned. After several rings a voice said, “Ghuman Enterprises.”
“It’s Mrs. Ghuman. Put me through to my husband immediately.”
“He’s chairing a board meeting, Mrs. Ghuman—”
“Then interrupt it. This is an emergency.” The secretary hesitated. “Immediately, do you hear me?”
“Who is this?” demanded the next voice.
“It’s Simran, we have a problem. Priya has run off with Clifton.”
“How can that be possible?”
“He was waiting for her on a motorbike outside the shop. All I can tell you is that they turned left at the end of Altamont Street.”
“They must be heading for the airport. Tell the chauffeur to take both guards to the international terminal and await my instructions.” He slammed down the phone and quickly left the room, leaving twelve bewildered directors sitting around the boardroom table. As he swept through to his office he shouted at his secretary, “Find out the time of the next flight to London. And quickly!”
Ghuman’s secretary picked up the phone on her desk and called special services at the airport. A few moments later she pressed the intercom button that connected her to the chairman’s desk.
“There are two flights out of Bombay today, both of them Air India.” She glanced down at her pad. “One in forty minutes’ time, at 12:50, so you couldn’t possibly make it to the airport in time, and one—”
“—but a man on a motorbike could,” said Ghuman without explanation. “Get me the duty controller at the airport.”
Ghuman paced around the room as he waited to be put through. He snatched at the phone the moment it rang.
“It’s Patel, in accounts, sir. You asked me to—”
“Not now,” said Ghuman. He slammed the phone down and was just about to ask his secretary what was taking so long when it rang again.
“Who is this?” he demanded as he picked the phone up.
“My name is Tariq Shah, Mr. Ghuman. I am Air India’s senior controller at Santacruz airport. How may—”
“I have reason to believe that a Mr. Sebastian Clifton and my daughter, Priya, are booked on your 12:50 flight to London. Check your manifest immediately and let me know if they’ve already boarded the plane.”
“Can I call you back?”
“No, I’ll hold on.”
“I’ll need a couple of minutes, sir.”
Two minutes turned into three, and as Ghuman could no longer pace around his office while he held onto the phone, he grabbed the letter-opener on his desk and began stabbing his blotting pad in frustration. Finally a voice said, “Neither Mr. Clifton nor your daughter are on that flight, Mr. Ghuman, and the boarding desk has already closed. Do you want me to check the 18:50 flight?”
“No, they won’t be on that one,” Ghuman said before adding, “What a clever young man you are, Mr. Clifton.”
“I beg your pardon?” said Shah.
“Listen carefully, Shah. I want you to check every other flight that’s leaving India for London tonight, whatever the airport, and then ring me straight back.”
Seb and Priya pulled up outside the domestic terminal just before one o’clock, to find Vijay standing on the pavement looking out for them.
“Take the bike back to the garage, Vijay, then go home and stay put for the rest of the day. Don’t report back to work until tomorrow morning. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” said Vijay.
Seb handed him the keys to the bike and another five hundred rupees.
“But you have already given me more than enough money, sir.”
“Nowhere near enough,” said Seb. He took Priya by the hand and led her quickly into the terminal and straight to Gate 14B, where some passengers were already boarding. He was glad he’d carried out two dress rehearsals, but it didn’t stop him continually looking over his shoulder to check if anyone was following them. With a bit of luck, Ghuman’s thugs would be heading for the international terminal.
They joined the queue of passengers boarding the flight to New Delhi, but Seb didn’t feel safe even when the stewardess asked everyone to fasten their seatbelts. Not until the wheels had left the ground did he breathe a sigh of relief.
“But we won’t be safe even when we’re back in London,” said Priya, who was still shaking. “My father won’t give up while he thinks there’s the slightest chance of getting me to change my mind.”
“That will be pretty difficult, if we’re already married.”
“But we both know that won’t be possible for some time.”
“Have you ever heard of Gretna Green?” said Seb, not letting go of her hand. “It’s like Vegas without the gambling, so by this time tomorrow, you will be Mrs. Clifton. Which is why we’re taking a plane to Glasgow this evening, and not London.”
“But even if we do that, my father will only take some other kind of revenge.”
“I don’t think so. Because when he returns to London he’s going to have a visit from Mr. Varun Sharma, the Indian High Commissioner, as well as a chief inspector from Scotland Yard.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I didn’t. But when you see my uncle Giles again, you can thank him.”
The airport controller was back on the line forty minutes after Ghuman had put the phone down.
“There are five other flights scheduled for London this evening, Mr. Ghuman. Three out of New Delhi, one from Calcutta and the other from Bangalore. Neither Mr. Clifton nor your daughter are booked on any of them. However, there’s a BOAC flight to Manchester and another to Glasgow that are leaving New Delhi later this evening, and the booking desks for both are still open.”
“Clever, Mr. Clifton, very clever indeed. But there’s one thing you’ve overlooked. Mr. Shah,” said Ghuman, “I need to know which of those flights they’re booked on. Once you’ve found out, make sure they don’t board the plane.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mr. Ghuman, because they are both British carriers, and I have no way of checking their manifests, unless I can show a crime has been committed.”
“You can tell them Clifton is attempting to kidnap my daughter, and that you’ll hold the flight up if they allow them to board the plane.”
“I don’t have the authority to do that, Mr. Ghuman.”
“Listen carefully, Mr. Shah. If you don’t do it, by this time tomorrow you won’t have any authority at all.”