First Flight of the Crowe

By E.W. NICKERSON

From the rapidly changing street's of Thatcher's England to the mosques and squares of Turkey, and finally to the unassuming town of Oakville, Canada, First Flight of The Crowe is a sharp and energetic spy thriller.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Dec 8, 2009
• ISBN: 9781426985409

E.W. NICKERSON

Born in London, England, shortly after the Second World War, Ed Nickerson received his education in London. He moved to Canada in 1964 for two years and has lived there ever since. After working for thirty-five years in the life insurance industry, he started writing with his first novel, First Flight of the Crowe.  He lives in Burlington, Ontario, with his wife, Judy, and their two cats, Stanley and Sparkle. He may be contacted at [e-mail].

Book preview

First Flight

of the Crowe

E.W. Nickerson

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© Copyright 2009 E.W. Nickerson.

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Contents

Preface

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter

Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter

Thirty-Three

Special thanks. I would like to thank my wife Judy and my friend Sue Manson for working with me on my first novel. Many other friends contributed their time and energy in

my effort.

Preface

Friday, September 28, 1984 7:15pm

Finishing his first pint of Double Diamond, Ed Crowe slid the empty glass across the bar toward the serving area. Karen, the bartender, noticed the move and with a quick look asked if another was in order. Ed nodded. Karen drew the beer, wondering why Ed regularly sat alone. He was tall; average looking, with a good sense of humor. She made no comment as she served him.

It was a Friday night and the pub was full of regulars. Ed felt comfortable being one of them, although he knew only a few by name.

Tasting his second pint, he took his mind back five months to England, to the Kensal Rise area of London. April 28, 1984, a day now special to him: the day that changed his life. He’d since been on a difficult and dangerous journey, and two people had died. Or had it been four? He smiled and chuckled aloud at the thought.

He had his old boss to thank for starting it all, and he drank to him.

At the time Ed had had been working for five years at a travel agency. He was not trained for this work, but he quickly picked up the trade by working hard and listening as much as he could to the owner, Mr. Cooper.

Mr. Cooper was well versed on how and where to travel — that is, if you were traveling only in Western Europe. He had been all over France, Italy, Germany, and, to a lesser extent, Spain. Italy and Germany were well into the travel business, as more and more British people were using their recent wealth to see the world. Spain still had a sense about it that it needed more change. Spain had a less than positive history. France was, of course, France - still, in its own mind, superior. The French considered tourists, especially the English, a boorish group who were entitled to visit, but not for too long, and certainly they weren’t worthy of any conversation beyond the weather and beauty of France. The mere mention of the British Prime Minister, Mrs. Thatcher, would end any discussion forthwith.

Outside of France, Germany, Italy, and Spain, Mr. Cooper was lacking the kind of knowledge that was needed by the younger clients starting to seek his advice. Kensal Rise was not a haven for the young and rich, but it was beginning to change in the same way that all of England was. The political changes Mrs. Thatcher was driving through Parliament were dramatic or draconian, depending on your point of view, but few doubted they were needed. Perhaps it was the speed of change that was difficult for many to grasp. The socialist mentality, predominant after the War, had left a proud nation struggling. To be afflicted with the British Disease meant you were lazy, and the expression was then in worldwide use. Something had to happen. Mrs. Thatcher was taking on the French over contributions to the EEC. Even her diehard enemies were proud of her on that score.

Kensal Rise is a suburb of London that few outside the city know. It is not the East End, with its history and lore. Nobody speaks cockney in Kensal Rise. No Jack the Ripper history to describe, no football hero to celebrate. Many churches, but no cathedrals. Not a visitor’s London, but the real London.

The local houses were a mixture of row houses, semi-detached, and detached, and none was so old it could not be quickly converted into a home fully acceptable to the soon-to-be-richer. As in a lot of England, the twenty-somethings of Kensal Rise were better educated than their parents and willing to work just as hard or harder to make good money. The area was well situated for those taking advantage of the many jobs in downtown London, and a short trip on the Underground took you into the heart of the city.

Mr. Cooper would have preferred not to have to catch up on the travel business, but he recognized that if he did not do so, his business would quietly fade, and his forty-five years of work would be worthless. He hoped to sell the travel shop to create a nice nest egg that would allow him to retire comfortably with his ailing wife, somewhere - anywhere but London. He certainly deserved a break. He started the agency in 1935, when the possibility of war was always a topic of discussion but still only as a possibility. Not many Britons visited France and Italy, just enough to keep his small shop on Leighton Gardens open.

When the War broke out he had to close the shop and, like millions of other young men and women, he marched down to the local signup centre. With no surprise but some disappointment, he was not accepted for active duty due to his poor hearing. He argued the point and took the test again, but was caught cheating. Indicating he heard a sound in the earphones when no sound was played got him a friendly wink from the tester, but a decline all the same.

After his several attempts to get involved, the Army recognized his knowledge of Europe, as limited as it was at the time, was certainly greater than average. Mr. Cooper worked with a variety of departments in the military. He did not understand exactly who they were or even what they did, but he was willing to help where he could. He attended meetings in London to share his knowledge of the towns and cities in France: never certain if what he had to offer was useful, but contented himself with the thought that even if he helped once in the war effort, he had done his part.

Are you dreaming? Karen asked. You seem miles away.

Ed shook his head to bring himself back to reality. Actually, yes I was. Both dreaming and miles away.

Chapter One

April 28, 1984, was the start of the trip that changed Ed Crowe’s life, but the plans were born three weeks earlier.

Just before lunch one day, he and Mr. Cooper had been outlining a trip to Spain for one of their regular customers, Mr. and Mrs. Duke. It was always exciting going over the package of travel documents with customers: airline tickets, train reservations, hotel and car rental details, road maps, and a variety of brochures on the towns and villages they would visit. Mr. Cooper neatly placed the items in chronological order and handed the package over to the Dukes. From then on, it was their trip.

After showing the Dukes out, Mr. Cooper, quite out of character, locked the front door and turned to Ed.

Eddie, my boy, I have an idea that would be best discussed over a cheese roll and half a pint!

The Coach and Horses pub had been aptly named. It was built in 1872 as an inn for travelers spending a night on the stagecoach journey between London and Oxford. What had once been the stables was now the Public Bar. It was large and basic. The floors were wooden and the dartboards had been recently joined by one-armed bandits; slot machines where patrons could crank away a day’s pay.

The Private Bar was smaller, quieter, and carpeted, much more suited to Mr. Cooper’s needs.

You take a pew over here, Mr. Cooper said, pointing to a table by the window, and I’ll get the drinks. Half pint of the best okay?

Ed nodded.

Mr. Cooper eventually returned with the two half pints, bearing a smile that was almost childlike in its gleefulness.

There you go, he said, putting down the drinks and pulling up a chair. Here’s to the future, and bottoms up!

Bottoms up, Ed agreed.

Mr. Cooper leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

Our industry is changing, Eddie. When I opened my shop, most holiday travel was local in nature, and it took some years before the thought of traveling beyond Great Britain was even considered. And no wonder. Germany and Italy had been enemies, and France was… well, it was France. My idea is simple in its concept, but a little bit of work to implement, and certainly not for the likes of someone my age. Besides, I have to run the shop.

Ed was intrigued.

Now I do not have all of the details worked out, but the idea is to send you to a number of European countries that I have never been to. You’ll create a file of hotels, spas, country inns, cafes, and so on, for each country. I am not talking about every location and hotel, just the places that our clients are likely to want to visit. Young people are heading further and further east, Eddie. A customer asked me the other day to recommend a hotel in Bucharest. Well, what do I know? Sure, I could look it up in a travel brochure, which in fact I did, but that is not how we are supposed to do our job. He tapped the table to make his point. I want to know about the state of the hotel rooms, the cafes, the transportation systems. Are there basic facilities, as we know them? Do owners take an interest? He paused. Are you with me so far?

Yes, I’m with you, Ed said. When do we get started?

Mr. Cooper let out a big chuckle and thumped his fist on the table.

Good man, he grinned, but let’s go through all of my ideas before we get you down to the passport office. Besides, you are going to have to talk to your mum about this first.

Chapter Two

The next few weeks were incredibly exciting for Ed: running to the passport office, to the doctor’s office for shots, to the local men’s shop for everything from underwear to ties, and meeting with friends to explain his new job.

So tell me this again, Eddie. You are going to get paid to travel in Eastern Europe, and all you have to do is document it all?

That seemed to capture it rather succinctly, as only Ed’s good friend Roy Johnson could do. Roy and Ed had been in school together from the ages of eleven to sixteen, when they both took their first honest chance to drop out. Roy was now a salesman for a local printing company, having worked on the printing floor for a couple of years. He was a tall, strapping, good-looking lad, who seemed to be interested in something new at least monthly. They were down at Roy’s local, a decrepit pub called The Prince of Wales.

Well, I must admit I’m a bit jealous, Eddie. But if you would allow me to sit in for Mrs. Thatcher for a moment, what’s really in this for you?

I’d bet you’d marry Margaret Thatcher if she wasn’t already spoken for.

A bit old for me, alas, but if she were younger and single, you never know, do you? But my point is, he continued, you have to make sure that at the end of the day you have enhanced your skills to, shall we say, enable you to gain financially from this experience.

I’m with you, Ed replied, sipping his beer slowly. I suppose what you really mean is you’re going to act as my dad for a while, in spite of being all of six months older than I am?

Exactly! Good man. Never let it be said you’re slow to catch on. Roy grinned a big grin. So tell me all the details and I’ll listen intently, without interruption.

Well then, here we go! Eddie said, and started outlining all of the details from his conversation with Mr. Cooper. He felt even more comfortable about the plan when he finished his explanation. Good to his word, Roy listened without interruption, only nodding as each point sunk in.

Your Mr. Cooper is an organized little bugger, isn’t he? Roy asked, sipping the last of his beer and sitting back in his chair. He was thoughtful for a few seconds. Well, I tell you what, Roy said forcefully. I like it. In fact, I like it a lot.

Ed felt good. In fact, he felt very good.

Roy extended his hand and Ed shook it. Sounds like a good deal to me, Eddie. I have only one suggestion.

What’s that?

It’s simple, actually. When you send your reports to Mr. Cooper, you should send a copy to me as well. I open them to make sure all is okay and then keep them for you. It just feels like the right thing to do.

Great idea, Roy. You’re a thinker, you are.

It made sense to Ed. The reports would be his main contact with home, since he had no idea how the phone systems worked in the countries he was about to visit. It added an almost sinister twist to what was already an intriguing prospect.

If I send you copies of my reports, what will that make you? Eddie asked, trying to think of an appropriate title.

Interested friend, I suppose.

No, no, there must be a more exciting handle than that. How about… let me think. He closed his eyes and thought deeply. Okay, how about Contact Spook? C.S. for short.

Well that’s better than Beta Spook, B.S. for short.

It was difficult not to get distracted by Roy, but Ed plugged on.

Okay, if the envelope is addressed to Roy Johnson, C.S., open it if you want to. If it’s Roy Johnson, B.S., open it for sure! This all sounds a little spy-like, but you never know.

It is spy-like, because in fact that’s your new role. Roy stood up and gently waved and bowed, Sir Francis Drake style. Edwin Crowe, travel spy extraordinaire!

Sit down, for God’s sake, Ed said, noticing how they were now the center of attraction in the bar. Only my mum calls me Edwin, remember?

Roy bowed to the other customers, and sat down slowly.

Now I am afraid to ask, Ed said, but what does beta mean anyway?

What I had in mind was, to quote, ‘the second brightest star in the constellation.’

I really don’t know how you remember all that kind of information, Ed said, shaking his head, but I’m sure your customers must wonder about you if you pop that sort of data into your business calls.

Actually, you know, Roy said, for the most part they enjoy it. I think it reminds them of all the things they learned at school and never used.

Not exactly Coronation Street, is it? Ed offered.

My point exactly, Eddie my boy. My point exactly. Your round by the way.

Chapter Three

Mrs. Crowe, Ed’s mother, was not at all excited about the idea, even before Ed had time to explain it.

So Mr. Cooper will send you all over Europe, and all you have to do is report back on the state of the bed linens?

Not just the bed linens, Mother, replied Ed. Their hotels, their main attractions, their transportation systems. Everything that a tourist might want to know about.

But why would you want to visit all those foreign countries when you haven’t even been to Scotland?

Mum, just think about it. I’ll be traveling at no cost to myself, and I could be setting aside a tidy sum of money at the same time. Perhaps enough to open my own travel agency. How does that sound?

Perhaps enough to find a nice girl and get married? Whatever happened to Jean, anyway? I thought you two got along very well. Her father being a bank manager and all, you’d have been well set.

Jean was a lovely person, and for a while she and Ed were talking about getting engaged. But there was always a nagging feeling in Ed’s mind, and probably in Jean’s too, he thought, that it would be fun to go out with other people. So he did; and it was.

All of this flitted through Ed’s mind for a while, and his mum stared at him as if he was off in a dream.

You do remember Jean, don’t you? she asked, waving her hand in front of his face. You know, the nice young lady you went out with for nearly three years before dropping her for someone else? Someone else I never met, by the way.

Yes, of course I remember Jean, Mother.

Ed picked up the kettle to put it on for tea, and to give himself time to think. Look, Mum, I’m not talking about joining the French Foreign Legion here, you know. Just a new and exciting job with Mr. Cooper.

That did it. I bloody well hope you are not joining the froggies weird army, young man! She sat down, exasperated. You know how they treated the natives in Africa, don’t you? Bloody French. Think they’re something special, they do. And that de Gaulle bloke? Like to get him in a room with Maggie Thatcher, I would. She’d have him eating his words in no time.

Cup of tea then? Ed asked.

Good idea, she said. I’ll get us a couple of digestives, then let’s talk more about your idea. Bloody French!

The discussion went more smoothly after they had agreed on a common enemy.

Chapter Four

Let’s go over the details once more to make sure we have them finalized, okay? Mr. Cooper suggested. Stop me if I’ve got any of this wrong. You have your passport, and so we start as early as we can next month. May is a lovely month to travel, not bad weather and fewer tourists. All traveling expenses are mine, but you pay for your own non-related expenses, you know drinks for young ladies and the like. He winked at Ed and continued. The hotel expenses will often be covered by the hotel as an incentive for us in the industry to see what they have to offer. As is normal in the industry, we book you into the hotels as a regular guest traveling on business or pleasure, and you don’t identify yourself as a representative of Cooper’s Travel until you are booking out. They don’t always appreciate this, but they also know it happens all the time. You will keep detailed information on each hotel, about their service, food, cleanliness, size of rooms, etc. Likewise, you will document what is available to see and do in each city or town. As time permits, you will mail these reports to me. I will pull together a standard report form to make it easy to capture the information that we need. You will find out as much as you can about the local and district transportation. Flying to Romania is one thing, getting around may be a whole different experience. With all of this, you will not put yourself in any kind of danger. Not good for you, not good for business. And even worse, I do not want to have to face your mum to explain why you are hospitalized in Bulgaria. Wherever you can do so, you register with the British Embassy or local representative. I will find out who and where they are. Finally, and this is particularly important, find out what the locals think of an increase in tourists and, where it matters, what they think of the English.

Mr. Cooper took a deep breath and chuckled. That was a bit formal, wasn’t it? Let’s seal our deal with a nice cup of tea.

Ah, the middle-class English solution to all and sundry, Ed thought — a cup of tea! So do they drink tea in Bulgaria? he asked.

Good question. I don’t know. But I’m sure that will be answered in your first report from Sofia while enjoying the facilities of the Sheraton hotel!

Really? Ed replied. How can you be sure there is a Sheraton hotel there? I thought you hadn’t been?

Very quick there, Eddie, Mr. Cooper answered. I haven’t. But that doesn’t mean I hadn’t done some homework before I asked you to travel far and wide, now does it?

Once more, Eddie was impressed by Mr. Cooper’s thoughtfulness and attention to detail. There was, as it turned out, more of that to come.

Chapter Five

Ed’s passport in hand, visa needs were considered, maps were reviewed many times over, and the world’s political situation was carefully thought through. Finally, Mr. Cooper and Ed arrived at their first choice. They needed to start with a country that was already in the process of democratic change, and they decided on Turkey.

Five months earlier, elections had been held in Turkey, and a new government was in place under Prime Minister Turgut Ozal, leading the recently formed Motherhood Party.

The benefits of Turkey, for the purposes of Cooper’s Travel, were several. The positive political climate was the priority, but from a travel agent’s perspective, there were three choices for waterfronts: the Black Sea, the Aegean Sea, and the Mediterranean Sea. Many of their clients enjoyed the history and culture of foreign lands, but it was generally hard to beat places with great beaches and warm seas.

Having settled on a country, Mr. Cooper and Ed started work on their plan of attack, as Mr. Cooper called it. The first issue to address was the potential risks.

Clearly, from a worldly perspective, the biggest risk they could identify in visiting Turkey was to those who dealt in or used illegal drugs. There had been several instances of young people being treated harshly for carrying or selling drugs, and while the punishments being handed down seemed out of proportion, it was not as if such treatment could come as a surprise to anyone. Ed’s only indulgence was a few beers, and that did not appear to put him at risk, but Mr. Cooper was still quick to instill the differences in cultures that Ed might encounter.

The mindset to have, he said with some firmness, is that what they do may well be different. But we must approach it as neither right nor wrong, just different. It’s their country and they play by their rules.

They resolved that Ed’s mantra on any cultural issues that struck him as abnormal was to be Neither right nor wrong, just different. It was a decision that would prove helpful several times.

With so much to accomplish in just a few weeks, they agreed to move quickly and aggressively. Mr. Cooper would find three hotels in appropriate locations. Those hotels would be Ed’s home for a week each, with time between to travel to the next one. Mr. Cooper would also determine what the best method of moving from one location to the next would be, although he was not sure that any mode other than train was safe.

While Mr. Cooper spent time on the hotels, it was agreed Ed would go to the local library and read as much he could on Turkey: its history, language, culture, religions, food — anything that would help him understand the people and their way of life. The Librarian, Nancy Wallbridge, helped him find the appropriate books, and he promised to visit her when he returned from Turkey.

Chapter Six

Ed and Roy were in Roy’s flat, testing the reality of what was happening.

So you leave for Turkey tomorrow? Roy asked.

Correct.

You have all of your documents, visas, funny-money, tickets, maps, etc?

Correct

Your mum is really excited about all of this?

About as excited as wanting to fly to the moon, I would say. The only comfort that I can give her is her knowing I will be registering at the British Embassy the minute I arrive; on the way to the hotel for heaven’s sake!

Her idea?

No, Mr. Cooper’s actually. He thought it would make Mum feel safer if, the Queen’s representative, was fully informed of my whereabouts.

And he was right?

Oh absolutely. And if it makes Mum feel better, then I feel better.

Good! And make sure you send her a postcard every couple of days. I’ll pop ‘round and see her once in a while for a cuppa.

Ed stood up, they shook hands, and he left for the door. Okay, I’m off to get my final orders from Mr. Cooper this afternoon, and I’ll see you about nine tomorrow morning. I appreciate the ride to the airport.

My pleasure, Roy replied, holding open the door. Just one more thing.

What’s that? Ed asked, turning.

Not to be too er, blunt, ya know, but is your life insurance paid up?

Very subtle, Roy, very subtle, he laughed, but yes it is. I also have drawn up a will, and you’ll be pleased to hear that you are named as executor. Not beneficiary mind you, executor. You get to do all of the work, and get none of the money. Not good news for a Conservative like you; but hey, who said life was fair!

Ouch, I don’t like to continue this, Roy said, but since we’re here, who has a copy of your will?

Mr. Cooper — sure not Mum! One more thing, and this is getting too gory by far, Ed continued. If anything shall we say, ‘untoward’ does happen, I’d like The Beatles, ‘In My Life’ played.

Roy stopped, closed his eyes, and quietly hummed to himself, his head moving ever so slightly from side to side. Good choice, he said opening his eyes. This conversation is over. I’ll see you tomorrow at nine.

Mr. Cooper was excited, and his enthusiasm soon had Ed setting aside any negative thoughts.

Eddie, my lad, this is marvelous! he said as they went into his small office and closed the door.

"Now I have gone over all of the bookings, tickets, list of phone numbers etc. etc. etc. so many times, I am getting giddy. Now it is all here."

Mr. Cooper reviewed all of the documents in chronological order that would be needed. On top was a letter from Mr. Cooper introducing Mr. Eddie Crowe and explaining his role for the agency. There was information on the three hotels that he would be staying at: The Stad Hotel in Ankara, the Usta Hotel in the Black Sea town of Trabzon, and the Talya Hotel in the Mediterranean town of Antalya. Attached to each sheet of information for the three hotels was a letter from their respective Hotel Manager offering up to one-week stay free for the ‘representative of the Cooper’s Travel Agency, of London, England’.

Every thing was in order, everything checked-off.

You should have been a Sergeant Major in the army. Ed said, smiling and picking up the package. You’re more organized than a holiday camp.

That I’ll take as a compliment, Mr. Cooper said, but don’t expect the same in Turkey. As we agreed upon…

Okay, I’m with you, Ed said, gently interrupting, "Neither right nor wrong, just different."

Exactly, exactly. he confirmed. Now one final point and this is important. You’ll understand it better when you’ve been there for a while. He stood up, to make the point. Remember you’re British, or more to the point English.

Aren’t we all just British now? Ed asked, not quite getting the inference.

Yes, of course you’re British. But you’ll find that the first Scot you meet will be Scottish, and the first Welshman will be, well, Welsh. It’s just the way it is. There is nothing wrong with people being proud of their culture and background, in fact it’s pretty basic. Anyway, keep that in mind and when you get back, we’ll see if my comment offered you anything.

Ed tucked that away in my mind as they reviewed the reports he was to mail to Mr. Cooper and what to do in an emergency.

It was after six by the time they had finished. The sun was moving slowly behind the pub across the street as they left the agency, and Mr. Cooper locked the door.

Mr. Cooper turned and shook his hand. Work hard and have fun, Eddie. Say hello to your mum for me, and I’ll see you in three weeks.

With that Mr. Cooper walked off toward home.

Say hello to Mrs. Cooper for me, Ed called.

Mr. Cooper raised his hand in acknowledgement, without turning.

Ed walked home slowly feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

His mum had made a special dinner for the occasion; roast lamb, roast potatoes, and peas.

You won’t be having a nice English meal like this for a while, she said, bringing the plates to the table, so enjoy it while you can. What do they eat over there anyway? Poor little goats, I’ll bet.

He didn’t want to get too deep into this conversation. He mumbled agreement, and started on the meat but thinking all the while: ‘poor little lamb!’

They finished the meal, with a special pudding of trifle. English trifle, of course!

Thanks, Mum, that was delicious. I certainly won’t be getting trifle over there. Not that we have it very often here, mind you.

Certainly not. It’s not healthy for you, way too much sugar. But as a special treat…for my world-traveling son, she said with a nice smile.

What am I going to do with all of the rest of it? she said as we looked at the remaining two thirds.

I’ll mention it to Roy when he drives me to the airport tomorrow. I suspect he will be more than happy to help you finish it.

"Yes, nice boy is Roy. Does he have any special girl in his life?"

Not sure Mum, not sure!

Well you’re both getting on, you know. Can’t wait too long to meet the right one.

I think you’re right, Mum. I’ll have a look around while I’m in Turkey.

Don’t bother, she muttered. Nothing wrong with English girls is there?

You mean British, don’t you? Wouldn’t want to exclude a Scottish lass would we?

She frowned. Don’t be rude. You know what I mean. Of course I mean British; it just doesn’t sound the same somehow, does it?

No it didn’t. He thought his Mum had been talking to Mr. Cooper too often.

They cleared the dishes after the excellent meal. They chatted briefly and made it an early night.

Chapter Seven

Saturday April 28, 1984

At 8:45 a.m. Roy Johnson drove his Vauxhall slowly up to the Crowes’ house and parked. There were no driveways on Tiverton Road. The houses had been built before those who lived here owned cars. Some residents had cemented-over their front garden to park their cars off the street. A shame Roy thought, but the price of progress.

He walked up to the front door and knocked his usual rat-a-tat-tat; and Ed’s mum immediately opened it.

Good morning, Roy, come on in and have a cup of tea.

Thank you ma’am, he said gently bowing. Glad you have one in the pot for the chauffeur. And how’s the world traveler today?

I’m doing fine, thank you very much. Ed shouted from upstairs, I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes.

Roy looked at Mrs. Crowe raising one eyebrow So what do you think, Mrs. C? he asked.

Glad to get rid of him, she replied, pouring the tea. It’ll give me more time to myself. Catch up on my reading finally!

She brought the tea and laid it on the table where Roy had sat down, And what do you think, Roy, of all this gallivanting?

He picked up the cup, took a sip and reflected. I think that’s a good cup of tea, Mrs. C. And to be honest, I think it is a great opportunity for Eddie; one that doesn’t come along very often. He took another sip of tea. Yes, he’ll do fine. We’ll see him as a new and wiser person a few weeks from now, and then we’ll send him off again!

I see you’re here to cheer me up then? she asked. I’m sure you’re right though: just a mother’s worry, I suppose.

Ed was walking down the stairs with a large suitcase; obviously heavy from the way he was carrying it.

Ready when you are, Roy, he announced, but finish your tea.

Cheers, I will, Roy offered. Your mum and I were just wondering where we are going to send you next. Any thoughts you might have?

Well I was hoping for Scotland, you know, land of the wild, he said looking at his mum. But probably either Albania or Romania more likely.

Very funny, she replied. Why don’t you get going and leave me to clean the house?

We’re off then, Roy said, picking up the suitcase and leaving. I’ll take this out to the car.

His mum gave Ed a hug.

Be careful, and have a good time, she said. Now go and don’t keep Roy waiting.

"Cheers Mum, and thanks. Don’t worry, I really will be careful."

He walked out, closing the front door carefully.

The drive to Heathrow airport was easier once they got onto the M4, the motorway heading west out of London. The traffic was mostly headed east into London, and as slow as ever.

The turn-off to Heathrow resulted in a slowing of the traffic, as was normal for one of the world’s busiest airports.

Roy looked over at Ed. This is the first time you’ve flown Eddie, correct?

Yep. Ed replied, looking sideways at Roy who was now grinning sheepishly. Ed shook his head. Don’t say it okay?

Roy couldn’t help but laugh. So this is the first flight of the Crowe?

Ha ha.

Leaving the nest, as it were?

If I ever get married, I’ll make sure you don’t make the toast!

The mind boggles!

"Just keep