Death In The Clouds*

“It’s Seb,” my brother says, handing me the phone at nine thirty this morning.

“Thank you,” I say to my brother.

“Hello my darling,” I say to Seb.

“Hello my love,” Seb says.  “I’m afraid you have an idiot for a boyfriend.  I’ve missed my flight.”

“Oh no.  What happened?” I say.  Maybe he had to rescue an elephant or save a pangolin who was being trafficked or reunite a clouded leopard mother with her cubs or…

“Well I thought my flight was at eleven fifty pm, and in fact it was at eleven fifty am,” Seb says.  “I just looked at the ticket once, thought it said eleven fifty pm and never looked at it again.  So I got here twelve hours late and…let’s never talk about this again and…”

“No, of course not,” I say.  “You poor thing.”

I’m making soothing noises but inside I’m shaking with laughter.  Must not laugh.

“I don’t know how it happened,” Seb says.  “It’s just so silly.  I’m a good traveller and…”

“I know you are darling,” I say.  Can’t wait to write this in the blog, I think.  The itch to immortalise this comic interlude in print burns through my fuzzy morning mind.

“So,” Seb says.  “I’ve managed to get another flight, for four hundred pounds and…”

“Ouch,” I say.

“Well, I’m lucky it wasn’t a thousand…it can be horribly expensive,” he says.  “Anyway – now I’ll be arriving on Sunday and I’ll come straight to you.”
“Excellent,” I say.

“And my Mum will pick us up on Monday and take us back to her house,” Seb says.

“Can’t wait to see you my darling,” I say.  Love that boy so much!

Attached photo is a Harris Hawk from the Bird Demonstration at the safari park.

Happy Friday everyone!
*1935.  By Agatha Christie.  A Hercule Poirot detective novel.


5 thoughts on “Death In The Clouds*

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s