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Nick realised that a gunman or perhaps several were at work in the lobby area. He was paralysed with fear. Should he stay put and try to hide but where? The small tables didn’t give much protection. The bar staff began to shout but Nick didn’t understand them. Some of the drinkers had fled out into the lobby but were now running back into the bar as smoke started to waft through and then there was a terrific bang where the whole hotel shook. A grenade must have been thrown.
Nick followed the others obeying the instructions of the bar staff who were marshalling people through a door behind the bar counter. Another blast shook the hotel. Parts of the ceiling of the bar area began to drop to the floor. Tables were overturned and people tripped over chairs. Once they were all through the door the bar staff locked it and urged the party of terrified customers along a corridor. Women were screaming and men were swearing.
They scurried along a narrow passageway which had bare walls and metal ducts containing the services. At points, they had to duck down to avoid hitting their heads on pipes and large air-conditioning ducts. It was claustrophobic but at least they were safe, for the moment. They came to a flight of stairs and were ushered down it. The lighting was poorer here and the party slowed down to avoid losing their footing. Suddenly an even more intense wave of panic washed over Nick. What if the bar staff were in cahoots with the terrorists and they were being led to their death or a trap? For the moment he had to believe they were being rescued. To turn back would be to meet a hail of bullets or a grenade. At least this meant they had some chance.
Once again they were heading along a corridor and then the barman opened a door which led into a sort of storeroom. They were in a modern type of cellar which contained spare tables and chairs. Ladders, spare light fittings and an assortment of discarded items. Old flower pots, vases, metal bracket, some pieces of scaffolding and so on. Finally, they could stop running. Nick was sweating profusely. Down here there was no air conditioning and no movement of air. The group began to spread out and they selected chairs to sit on.
‘You are all quite safe here. Nobody apart from staff knows about this place,’ said the barman.
‘But how long will we be down here?’ cried a woman.
‘That I do not know. We must be patient. Hopefully, the police and army will have arrived at the hotel by now.’
‘How many terrorists were there?’ asked another.
‘I have no idea. I did not wait to see.’
‘We are all going to die,’ wailed a woman hysterically. Someone went to her and tried to comfort her.
Nick sat down and tried to breathe deeply. His heart was pounding and he felt sick. The rich meal which he’d so enjoyed was threatening to come back up again. Less than an hour ago he was having a relaxed meal with entertainment and now he was plunged into a nightmare. He thought back to the major terrorist attack in 2008 when the Taj Mahal Hotel was attacked and over a hundred people lost their lives. He remembered the news reports from people barricaded in their hotel rooms as the siege and attacks lasted for days. He took out his phone and cursed. There was no signal and no Wi-Fi down in the basement. He had no means of contacting Polly or of checking what was happening. She would be expecting him to call at this precise moment. Oh, God, he thought, what if this has made the news and she is frantically wondering what has happened to me. Finally the shock and panic overcame him. He put his head in his hands and wept silently.
**
Polly returned home exhausted. She’d read that the first few weeks of pregnancy were the most tiring and that certainly seemed to be true. It wasn’t long now until she could speak to Nick and relay the exciting news. She switched on the oven to heat up and selected a macaroni cheese from the fridge. Suddenly she felt the urge to pass water and rushed off to the toilet. It was a sure way to make the phone ring and she heard her mobile just as she was washing her hands. She rushed back into the kitchen whilst wiping her hands on her trousers.
As she grabbed the phone her heart sank, it wasn’t Nick but Matt Pearson. What on earth did he want, surely he’d not forgotten that Nick was in India?
‘Hello, Polly, sorry to bother you.’
‘Hi, Matt, it’s no problem. I’ve just got home.’
‘Oh, good. I just wondered whether Nick’s been in touch?’
‘Er, well, he phoned earlier but I’ve been in meetings. The last text he sent said that he would be phoning, well, around now actually.’ Polly suddenly felt bad as soon as she’d said that as it did sound a bit terse. It was as if she was telling Matt to get off the line.
‘Oh, he’s not phoned this evening then?’
‘No, why, are you trying to get in touch with him?’
‘I take it you’ve not seen the news recently?’ said Matt hesitantly.
‘Not since mid-afternoon, I did look at the headlines then, just briefly. Why?’
‘Polly, I don’t want to worry you but there’s been a terrorist attack in Mumbai. It’s all very confused at the moment.’
‘Oh, God, no I didn’t realise!’ She went into the lounge and switched on the TV then put off the sound and activated the subtitles. She read with horror the unfolding story.
‘Polly? Are you still there?’
‘Yes, I’ve just put the TV on. God, it’s awful. Oh no!’ Polly screamed. ‘That’s Nick’s hotel!’
‘Polly, calm down, please. We mustn’t jump to conclusions. He’s probably had to evacuate. Perhaps he’s left his phone behind. We don’t know anything. No casualties have been confirmed yet.’
‘Yes, but I’ve not heard from him, He said he would call. Oh God, what am I going to do?’
‘Listen. I’ll come around. Would you like that?’
‘Please, would you? I’m so worried. Oh, I feel faint. Wait a minute I need to sit down.’
‘Try to take some deep breaths, I’ll be with you in about a quarter of an hour, OK?’
Through her tears, Polly mumbled thank you. She continued to stare at the TV. Suddenly a wave of nausea passed over her and she ran to the bathroom to bring up the remains of her lunch.
**
Silence had settled over the hotel guests hiding in the basement. Nick’s throat was parched and he could smell the sweat rising from his body. Was it sweat or was it fear? He strained his ears and thought he could hear shots being fired and some louder bangs which were presumably due to more grenades being let off. It was a reasonably large room but the ventilation was poor and the temperature was increasing all the time. He wondered how long they could survive like that before the air ran out. He scanned the top of the walls and to his relief saw some small vents.
Some people had decided to lie down. It was unlikely that they would be able to sleep when their fate was so uncertain but perhaps they felt more comfortable than on the upright chairs. From time to time the barman opened the door an inch or so and listened for clues. Despite the tense situation practicalities had taken over and a few of the guests had managed to rig up a sort of screen using some portable coat racks and had thrown an old blanket over it. They had found a largish plant holder and a waste paper bin which were to suffice as toilets, male and female. Using these would be the last resort but they could be down there for ages yet and Nick himself knew that nerves would mean he would soon have to empty his bladder.
‘Everyone, please listen,’ said the barman. ‘We need to stay in here but I think I know where there is some water. We are not far from a storeroom and I might be able to get there to find some bottled water. Would someone come and help me? I don’t want to have to make multiple trips?’
Everyone looked at each other then averted their gaze. It was a risky mission but on the other hand, they must all be becoming quite dehydrated due to the extreme heat and humidity.
‘I’ll go with you,’ said Nick.
‘Thank you. It is not far. I might need to force the door. Is there anything here we might use?’
Nick and a couple of others started to looked around the room, rummaging through the assortment of items. They managed to find an old screwdriver and a hammer. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing.
The barman opened the door and looked out into the corridor. ‘Can you hear anything?’
Nick craned his neck around and listened. There was a constant whir from the workings of the hotel, motors, pumps, machines but he couldn’t hear much else. ‘No, nothing.’
‘Let’s go. Follow me.’
They ran down the corridor their senses alert. Nick’s heart threatened to burst from his chest. All he could hear in his ears was the sound of the blood pumping around his body. They reached the corner of the corridor and flattened themselves against the wall.
‘It is one more corridor and then we are there, OK?’
Nick nodded although it was very much not OK. They continued on their quest and reached the door which was locked. With one tool each, they targetted the area around the lock. After what seemed ages Nick heard a splintering noise. That gave them the extra energy to carry on. Soon they had managed to prise away a section of the door frame. Nick kicked at the door and after three kicks and his accomplice using his shoulder it gave way and they fell into the room.
They were both gasping and rested with their hands on their knees. They each grabbed two packs of a dozen small bottles of water which was as much as they could manage and slowly made their way back to the rest of the group.
**
Matt arrived at Polly’s just after 7 p.m. as he had been delayed by the end of the rush hour traffic. That meant it was now 1 a.m. in India and there was still no word from Nick. Polly had abandoned all ideas of having anything to eat and had switched off the oven and put her macaroni cheese back in the fridge. She had made a cup of tea and was sitting watching the news and checking all the news websites on her phone when the doorbell rang.
Matt followed her into the lounge and accepted a cup of tea.
‘Thanks,’ he said when she returned. ‘I’ve tried to contact the company that Nick visited today but of course, it’s the early hours of the morning so they are probably asleep. There’s really nothing much we can do I’m afraid.’
‘It says that the army is trying to secure parts of the hotel now and they have neutralised as they call it a number of gunmen.’
‘Well, that’s good. It sounds as if the siege might soon be over.’
‘Yes, but if Nick’s not contacted me it suggests he’s still trapped in the hotel. They might set it on fire. He might burn to death.’ She began to cry and Matt put his arm around her.
‘Polly, have you got some brandy or some wine you could have? It might calm you down.’
‘Yes, I think so,’ she got up then realised she shouldn’t have any alcohol. ‘No, I don’t want any wine,’ she said suddenly, hoping that Matt wouldn’t realise the sudden volte-face.
They sat in awkward silence watching the news then Matt’s phone rang.
‘I’ll just go and take this,’ he said.
Polly guessed it was Emma. She was staring at her own phone, willing it to ring. The display lit up. It was her mother.
Polly had to go through the whole saga again with her mother who had just seen the news and had remembered that Nick was in Mumbai. Hearing her mother’s voice upset Polly even more and by the time Matt returned to the room she was sobbing and hardly able to speak. Matt wandered into the hallway as he felt embarrassed.
Polly ended the call. ‘Sorry, it was my Mum.’
‘Oh, yes. Look, do you want to come back to our house? Emma suggested it?’
‘No, thanks, Matt. It’s kind of you but I’ll be OK. I’m going to take a bath I think. I’ll take my phone in with me and then I’ll go to bed. I can watch TV in the bedroom. At least I’ll be lying down.’
‘OK, but ring anytime you want. If you change your mind I’ll come and get you, OK?’
‘Thanks, I’ll let you know as soon as I hear.’
‘If you can’t get me for any reason, phone Brett. He told me to tell you that.’
‘I will. And thanks again.’
They hugged and Matt left. She waved at him as he drove away then she closed the door and burst into tears once more.
