TheRedSharpie
June 7th, 2016, 07:36 PM
So let’s start at the beginning.
“Captain speaking. Inbound flight from Frankfurt to Bristol is scheduled to arrive on time,” the intercom buzzed through the cabin of the aeroplane,
“Over ninety percent of our flights are…”
My ringtone of my favourite sitcom theme tune rang loudly, and all the passengers within a five-metre radius of me tutted loudly as I interrupted the intercom. The stewardess shot me a look of pure poison, but she could hardly order me not to answer it, so I picked up.
“Hello?” there was no answer, “Guten Tag?” After living in Germany for ten years, it’s hard to let go of things.
“… Gerry, don’t touch that, it’s wet paint! Shouldn’t you be revising or something?” I heard Dad say to my brother, and then, “Sorry, mein Liebling. It’s Dad.”
“Mm, I gathered,” I pressed the phone tighter to my ear as the stewardess swept past disapprovingly, “Everything okay? The flight’s on time, they just said.”
“Mm, I’m just checking up on you. Sad to be leaving Germany?”
“Yeah, but I’m fine. Thanks, anyway, though.”
“You sound a bit disorientated, mein Schatz. What brand is Gerry’s car? What year is it? How old am I?”
“Ford Anglia, year 2027,” I said truthfully, and then added in answer to Dad’s last question, “About a million and one. Seriously, Dad…”
He sighed, making my phone vibrate. “Sorry. But you can’t blame me for being wary. I’m an army man, it’s in my nature. The reports
we got from the guys in Russia today… Christ, Tally…”
“I know, I know.” I said quickly, sensing the stewardess was ready to throw me off the plane by now, “See you later, okay?”
“Okay, bye. I’ve got the house all ready, you’ll love it, it’s so much better than the Germany one, honestly, you’ll be glad we moved back to Britain–”
“Auf wiedersehen, Dad.”
“Sorry. Bye.”
“Captain speaking. Inbound flight from Frankfurt to Bristol is scheduled to arrive on time,” the intercom buzzed through the cabin of the aeroplane,
“Over ninety percent of our flights are…”
My ringtone of my favourite sitcom theme tune rang loudly, and all the passengers within a five-metre radius of me tutted loudly as I interrupted the intercom. The stewardess shot me a look of pure poison, but she could hardly order me not to answer it, so I picked up.
“Hello?” there was no answer, “Guten Tag?” After living in Germany for ten years, it’s hard to let go of things.
“… Gerry, don’t touch that, it’s wet paint! Shouldn’t you be revising or something?” I heard Dad say to my brother, and then, “Sorry, mein Liebling. It’s Dad.”
“Mm, I gathered,” I pressed the phone tighter to my ear as the stewardess swept past disapprovingly, “Everything okay? The flight’s on time, they just said.”
“Mm, I’m just checking up on you. Sad to be leaving Germany?”
“Yeah, but I’m fine. Thanks, anyway, though.”
“You sound a bit disorientated, mein Schatz. What brand is Gerry’s car? What year is it? How old am I?”
“Ford Anglia, year 2027,” I said truthfully, and then added in answer to Dad’s last question, “About a million and one. Seriously, Dad…”
He sighed, making my phone vibrate. “Sorry. But you can’t blame me for being wary. I’m an army man, it’s in my nature. The reports
we got from the guys in Russia today… Christ, Tally…”
“I know, I know.” I said quickly, sensing the stewardess was ready to throw me off the plane by now, “See you later, okay?”
“Okay, bye. I’ve got the house all ready, you’ll love it, it’s so much better than the Germany one, honestly, you’ll be glad we moved back to Britain–”
“Auf wiedersehen, Dad.”
“Sorry. Bye.”