“No an airfield,” Sebastian laughed, “Our Minibus will pick you up.”
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Irene and Sandra stood outside Woolworth in their anoraks and jeans carrying their backpacks waiting for the Minibus, the town hall clock showed 11.30 like it always did since the clock winder was made redundant and it was actually only 10.32 when the Combined Training Corps minibus loomed out of the shadows. “What about Customs and that?” Sandra asked, as the drove straight past Terminal One and up to an elderly 747 airliner which stood outside the UK Mail building bathed by floodlights. Xxx “You prossie strippers or something, only you’re all synchronised or whatever?” Irene queried. “Oh it’s gorgeous,” Irene announced as she took a sip of 35% proof Orange Juice and Vodka
“MMmm,” Sandra agreed, “Gorgeous!”
“You want fuck now?” Miguel asked.
