Chapter Twenty-five
Well, here I was yet again with my feet in the air.
Another aero-plane. Another tin can with wings. Fortunately for me this time it would only be a couple hours of flying. I peered out of the porthole window and watched the cloudy landscape below, strewn like white fairy floss as it slowly floated beneath us.
I turned to my right. Sam looked at me with doll-like eyes that shone brighter than stars on a clear night. My Angel was very happy. She was as happy as a new-born tick on a fat hound. She was so happy, in fact, she kept her arm wrapped around mine, like the dress rings she had on her fingers.
The day had started as Sam had arrived at the Oxford with a trunk full of clothes. She had told me she hadn’t decided what to wear to the cup race yet.
I’d looked up to
