Turns out that “radio silence” also applies to emails to your sister. I got into so much trouble for that one. It’s not called email silence is it?
Bloody spy terms.
The weekend was crazy. The night of the mission started out magical, (despite the presence of Katie and George) I got to wear a fabulous dress and dance with handsome man in a huge glittering room.
It was just like the end of a movie where the girl looks great and the guy sees her and is dumbstruck, then they dance and the music rises till they kiss. Except in this story instead of the kiss part, he ran off to conduct secret and dangerous mission with the woman he actually loves and then fights off bad guys while I get more and more drunk on a balcony with a fountain.
Can I just say, how posh does a place have to be to have a balcony with a fountain??
Anyway, I got drunk and I lost my shoes (I hope they don’t charge me for that, they looked more expensive than the ones I buy from Clarks) and got a bit creeped out being alone. I kept thinking someone was behind me. Actually there was someone behind me at one point but that was when George found me to say we had to flee. (Apparently it’s not a good idea to stick around after an explosive and destructive firefight. Who knew.)
So we fleeed, or flew or whatever the word is. On a different but related note, cargo ships are uncomfortable and take waaay longer than flying, plus the fish smell is really hard to get out of your hair.
I need another shower.
FLED!!!! The word is fled. I’m done.