Page 49 of Code Block
Claire snapped to attention. Simon asked after her well-being and she was touched at the concern he showed. The call ended with Noah promising further updates as they learned more.
"How's your room?" she asked as she moved beside him to absorb the fire's heat. She took in their temporary quarters. Although small, it included plenty of seating. And near the desk, the wall sported multiple electrical outlets and even a network port. Everything they needed to feel at home.
"It'll do. Yours?" He rotated and held his hands out to the fire.
"Same. My suitcase stayed dry. That's a bonus. So, um… I have a confession," she said, flinching as a loud crack of thunder shook the building. At his raised eyebrows, she continued, "I didn't understand a word the hostess lady said. Her brogue is really thick. Can you translate for me what's going on?"
He froze for a second, then ran his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't even think of that. Let's see. They're booked up. This was the only room. It's usually reserved for families. Oh, her name is Mrs. Ferguson, and she's the owner. I think that's everything." He caught her gaze. "I'm glad you told me you had trouble understanding the Scots. Did you catch everything said at the base?"
Claire nodded. "I think so. We're stranded until they can get the part?"
"Yes. I'll try to remember to translate for you."
"Okay, thanks." The knot in her stomach eased a bit. When the woman downstairs had spoken earlier, Claire had panicked. Not only was she in a foreign country in a stressful situation, but she couldn't understand the language everyone around her was speaking. Their driver from earlier sported an accent, but Mrs. Ferguson's was far more pronounced. "What now?"
"I've already let my family know what's happened and that we're safe. You should call your people." Noah moved to sit on the small sofa facing the fireplace. He'd kicked off his shoes and sat in just his socks, looking completely at ease.
Claire blinked. It was such a small thing, but something about seeing him that relaxed—shoeless and settled in—felt oddly personal. Maybe it was just her Southern upbringing, but it caught her off guard. She shook the thought away and tried to focus on what he'd said.
"Um, my phone doesn't have an international calling plan. Any chance I can use yours?"
He stared at her. "Why don't you have a company phone? You're going to be traveling. They should have given you one." He waved his hand, dismissing the thought, and pulled his phone from his front pocket. "Here, feel free." He typed in the unlock code and handed it to her. "And when we get back, you need to ask Simon for a phone. That was an oversight."
She took the phone from him. "Thank you. I will. I'll be just a minute."
"Yep. And when you're done, let's go get the latest weather updates and see if we can find something to eat. I'm starving."
Chapter 20
Stranded
Noah popped a grape in his mouth and watched the TV on the facing wall. Claire sat next to him, picking at the snack tray on the coffee table, her gaze never straying from the screen. The room they sat in was cozy, darkened from the angry skies outside, but warm and friendly from the light offered by various lamps scattered around the space. After their late lunch earlier today consisting of a delicious roasted hen dish with cooked onions, carrots, and potatoes, they'd spent the afternoon getting updates from the airline, communicating with their team, and watching the news about the storm. While other guests occasionally wandered through, the main parlor was mostly theirs. According to Mrs. Ferguson, everyone else was camped out at the local pub a block over.
Noah's initial concern that their accommodations separate from the other passengers would cause a lack of updates proved unwarranted. Turned out, Mrs. Ferguson's husband was on the town council and knew everything going on with the downed plane, which made Leesburgh Guest House the place to be for stranded passengers.
And the news was grim. On a normal day, they might have been back in the air by now or, at worst, tomorrow morning. But the "storm of the century," as it was now dubbed by the overly-excited weatherman on TV, was wreaking havoc across the United Kingdom. Power lines down, roads washed out, and severe flooding were being reported across the nations.
"I didn't know y'all got hurricanes. And in the winter!" Claire said, her words quiet against the howling of the wind battering the house.
Mrs. Ferguson, sitting in the corner knitting, commented, "Cyclones, dear. We call them cyclones. It's rare, but it happens. We had two bad ones back-to-back in 2020."
Noah checked to see if Claire understood and found her digging through her backpack, pulling out different cables.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Charging all my electronics. I don't know what happens here during hurri?—cyclones, but according to my dad, Houston often loses electricity during a storm. So, I'm charging everything up to one hundred percent." An ominous clap of thunder punctuated her words.
"Good idea." Noah pulled out a cable and plugged in his phone. His computer was already charging.
The banging of the front door startled him, and he spun around. Mr. Ferguson—"call me Archie"—wrestled the door against the wind. Noah grinned at the inventive string of curse words the man used as he pushed it shut.
Mrs. Ferguson paused to watch her husband. She spoke rapidly to him in what Noah assumed was Gaelic, and while he didn't understand exactly what she said, he picked up enough to know she was chastising the man for his language.
As Archie removed his raincoat, Mrs. Ferguson put down her knitting and moved to help him with his outer layers. "Thanks, love," he said. He kissed her cheek, then addressed Claire and Noah. "I've got news and ye're not going to like it."
He moved to stand by the fire, warming his hands and throwing his words over his shoulder at them. "Looks like ye're stuck with us for a while. The roads are too dangerous to traverse and the storm isn't abating anytime soon. The good news is, we're stocked for winter and have plenty of supplies on hand."
Noah looked at Claire to see if she understood, only to find her watching him with expectant eyes. "We're likely stuck here for a few days, but they are well supplied, so food isn't an issue." Her jaw dropped as if she hadn't considered their situation fully.
