“She’s going to be late.” Geoffrey warned, feet shoulder width apart as we stood on the airfield and watched Mary scream her way down the landing strip. Shoes up on the handlebars we could see her grin even from where we were, stretched across her cheeks as her voice carried past us.
“Leave her be.” I said. “Remember how nervous you were for your test.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Geoffrey said, eyes fixed on Mary. “I was calm and collected, going over the last of my preparations.”
“You were practically in the foetal position.” I snorted. “Bernie had to almost carry you out to the plane.”
“You’re mistaken. I’m certain nothing of the sort took place.”
Mary skidded to a halt and turned the bike around.
“You were a mess.” I grinned. “Anyway, we both know what Mary’s like. That girl was born to fly.”