CHAPTER 5
THE FLIGHT TO England was one of the more unpleasant ones I’d taken. Okay, I’ll admit I’d been spoiled over the past few years, first with business class and then my own jet, but that was only so I could deal with my never-ending stream of calls and emails. On the other hand, I’d also taken military transport in some of the shittiest countries in the world, and half of those planes didn’t even have seats, let alone trolley service.
So when I say it was bad, that meant the flight sucked.
When I booked my ticket, the only seat left was in the middle of a row of three, near the back. I spent the eight-hour flight wedged between a snoring salesman with a body odour problem and a stomach the size of the national debt, and a teenager who only stopped playing computer games long enou
