The key to my nothing-like-home away from home is already in the lock, when the phone rings.
“Mmm?” I manage, squishing my phone between shoulder and face, three bags in two hands, hat unnecessarily on head, and a piece of toast wedged into the corner of my mouth.
“Hey you!” yells Stephen, offensively happy for four o’clock in the morning.
“Shhh,” I splutter, having just choked on the toast in fright.
“Happy Anniversary, wife!” he shouts.
“I’m not your wife,” I say, piling one suitcase onto the other and holding the phone a little further away from my ear.
“We’re going horse riding,” Stephen announces, clearly delighted by his own sense of exquisite romance.
Looking for something? Munich? Thailand? That one time I fell in a canal?
Looking for something? Berlin? Nuclear bunkers? That one time I accidentally ate cat?
What have you missed?
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