I watched her disappear into Passport control. There was a lump in my throat, but at the same time I was so happy for her. The Weasel, our seventeen year old daughter (almost but not quite eighteen) was off to Brisbane to stay with my sister for three weeks. Well it has to be better than hanging around Buxton and spending two weeks in Wales. She was excited and a little bit anxious. Not about the flying, she had overcome that fear when we went to Amsterdam earlier in the year, but I guess transferring at Dubai and then Singapore was a bit daunting. It would be for me. I walked back to the car and left Terminal One. I admit there were a few little tears that crept down my cheek but I was so happy and excited for her, that I soon cheered up. Bless her she soon brought me back to earth. I had only gone 300m when she phoned to say that she needed a £1 coin for the plastic bags for her cosmetics. “But I have left the airport, I’m sorry.” “Don’t matter dad I will leave it behind its not important.”
A few minutes later she texted me to say that they had let her off. I bet they did, its her winning smile. So I set off again back to Buxton. Not concentrating I soon found myself back outside Terminal One. Damned Sat Nav!
So now she is over in Oz and about to set off to South Stradbroke Island. We are off to Pembrokeshire at the weekend, and lovely though it is, its doesn’t have the same ring to it somehow.