Carstairs of ArabiaChapter 2 I Spy With My Tired Eye
Saturday June 27th, 2015. Dallas Road, Ealing. “Good morning.” “You’re up early?” said Kelly, who I found scooping yoghurt into a bowl of muesli when I sauntered into the kitchen. She’d spent the night at my house, in her own room. “Are you kidding? It’s five minutes past eight! I’ve been staring at the ceiling for half an hour, trying to get back to sleep.” “Well, give it another go. Or give me ten minutes and I’ll come and wear you out.” “Cheeky cow,” I muttered, as I filled the tea...