Fifty-one

Five weeks after arriving back in Britain I turned around as I climbed the steps up to the Boeing 747 and I took one last look. After all, I didn’t plan on coming back for a while. I took a deep breath and it made me cough. The English bloke behind me started tut-tutting because I was holding them up and I just smiled at him - I was going home, and that was the finest feeling of them all.
As I got through the Boeing’s door I showed them my Boarding Card and the stewardess smiled at me the way they do and she said, row 42, down on the right.
And then she handed me the menu.

to be continued...