Chapter FifteenPatrick informed us that the wind was taking us north. It so happened that his family lived several miles upriver, so we were heading for them whether we wanted to or not. Matilda sulked, and I discovered that a balloon basket was not a good place to observe a lovers’ quarrel between the other occupants. We flew almost directly above a river, catching the wind as it funnelled through the valley.
The sun set and we drifted downward—on purpose this time. Matilda sidled closer to Patrick, and the two of them stood with their arms touching, looking out across the wide emptiness below. It seemed their fight was over. They didn’t need words. I felt a pang of jealousy but stifled it at once. Silly to be jealous of colonials conducting a foolish tryst.
‘Tomorrow,’ Patrick said wit
