Leaving London

It’s always fun waking up Andrew in the morning.

“Get up, you lazy bastard.”

“In a minute, Dad.”

“You said that half an hour ago.”

It’s quarter to ten when we hit the breakfast room. Which is even quieter today.

I feel like something different today. Cereal and fruit, perhaps. Only joking. I have exactly the same as yesterday.

I go first again. But Andrew does eat something. A fried egg, a rasher of bacon and some beans. And a mug of tea. You can’t start the day without that.

Fed, we return to our room and have just about enough time to pack before checkout time.

On the way to the tube, we drop by the supermarket. To get some contraband: crumpets, cheese and lemon and ginger tea for Dolores.

It’ a simple journey to Heathrow. The Piccadilly Line all the way. We’re lucky that the train we catch isn’t very full. We bumble along for an hour or so. Until we pitch up at Terminal 4.

We check in Andrew’s bag, then trail airside. And go straight to the lounge. Where I was just a few weeks ago.

It’s not quite as busy as last time. We can easily find seats.

“Beer, Andrew?”

“Yes, please.”

I get myself a whisky. Only the one, as it’s a decent measure. And some cheese. You can never go wrong with cheese. It’s a good friend.

We have a couple of more rounds while we net the intersurf. Andrew on his phone, me on my laptop.

Our flight is on time. The gate just far enough away for the walk to be irritating. Boarding starts soon after we get there. Which is perfect.

It’s much emptier than the flight out. I have two empty seats next to me. This time we get a coffee in addition to the bag of cheesy biscuits.

Back on the ground, it’s a bit of a walk to passport control. It’s almost deserted. Which makes a change. Andrew’s bag is already circling around on the carousel when we get to it.

The cab ride home takes a little longer than usual, due to rush hour traffic. Once we get home, Dolores is waiting. With a pot of tea, as always.