40
I recall feeling very pleased with myself as I boarded my flight to Tamworth, for now we had a resolution in sight. I stowed my bag in the locker and nodded a greeting to the elderly gent in the next seat, a well-groomed country type with woollen tie and smart-looking tweed sports coat.
“Personally,” my neighbour said, “I think they should bring the drinks around before we take off, as it is only a two-Scotch flight to Tamworth anyway. Timothy Caruthers,” he said, offering his hand. “Care to join me when they turn up with the trolley? I do hate drinking alone.”
“Sounds like a good idea, Ray Brannagan,” and we shook hands, “and I prefer not to smell of it at the other end. It’s been a very long night.”
“Trouble sleeping old boy?” I had to laugh. “You could say, so what should I have?
