The Poacher’s Wood – Chapter 8

This entry is part 8 of 10 in the series The Poacher's Wood

3171216341_1647d9520dCHAPTER EIGHT
Friday, December 26th, Boxing Day

On the flight it was clear weather. She could look down and see the white quilt that England was. What was normally a green patchwork of fields was all white with stitching of roads, fences, trees and telephone lines. They rose up above England and then going north, over Scotland and over the Shetland Islands. The islands looked so perfect from way up in the warm plane, but she imagined they would be cold and windy right now. After some time they landed in Iceland to top up with fuel. They stopped in Reykjavik but couldn’t get off the plane. All she saw was the flat landscape, an airport guy running around on the tarmac and they when they took off the rounded edges of the coastline as they flew over. She had never been to Iceland, and it was strange to stop to refuel but not be able to get off the plane.

When she landed she got a taxi from the airport and crashed at the hotel. It was one by the water and it had a view. She was jet-lagged and she tried to give Darrell a quick call, but got his voicemail so just left a quick message and then collapsed and fell fast asleep.

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