I cried a bit off and on during the flight—Alex and I were finally back to good and here I was winging off to the United Bloody States and my [insert expletive here] family. The flight attendants were quite kind and brought me Tango and a Flake as soon as we were airborne. My seat neighbour asked if it was my first trip abroad and I said no, suddenly remembering I had an English accent.
'No, I've been before. I simply miss home already, you know.'
My seatmate, an older English woman in a tweed jacket and jeans, said in a posh accent, 'I understand, dear. How long are you going to be in America?'
'Two months.' I nibbled on my Flake.
'Well, that's not so long, is it? My daughter and her husband recently had a baby so we're going over to see them.' She gestured to the man on her right who must've been her husband.
I nodded, feeling a bit better, 'Where do they live?'
'California. It's all right, you know, though the accents can be a bit troublesome, can't they?' She smiled and I nodded. 'Half the time I can't understand a word they're saying.' I chuckled and she asked, 'Where are you going?'
'North Carolina.'
'Oh, may I ask why?'
'To see my grandmother, she lives there.'
'Isn't that nice. Your parents aren't accompanying you?'
'No, they're dead.'
Her expression fell, 'Oh, I'm so sorry.'
I waved dismissively, 'Oh, it's all right, it was years ago. I hardly remember them at all.'
'Are you leaving someone behind? In England?' She pointed to the ring on my left hand.
'Yeah.' At the thought of Alex, I got misty again and cleared my throat. 'You must excuse me, we don't spend an awful lot of time apart, you see.'
She gave a sympathetic nod, 'Is your husband joining you during your stay?'
I couldn't picture Alex in America. 'No, work, you know.'
She nodded understandingly and we got on to our separate books.
The woman had distracted me, but once I was left to my own thoughts I began to blubber again. Perhaps that was why other people were so interested in talking all the time, because it distracted them from their own lives. I suppose it was appropriate that Alex had given me a kid's book since I was carrying on like a child. Once I'd finally got myself under control I opened the book and the time flew by. At the airport in New York, I rang Alex and let her know the plane had landed safely, though hearing her voice and knowing she was thousands of miles away made me choke up again. I could see her, leaning against the worktop in her kitchen, holding the phone in her right hand.
'Did I wake you?'
'No, no, I was already up.'
I checked my watch, which I still hadn't switch to Eastern Standard Time, 'At six am?'
She chuckled, 'I couldn't sleep. Did you get some kip on the plane?'
'No. I read the book you gave me. It's fantastic, you have to read it.'
I could hear her smile over the line, 'I'm so glad you liked it, sweetheart. Your flight to Raleigh is in an hour, correct?'
'Yeah.'
'What's the matter? I can hear it in your voice.'
My stomach turned, 'Oh, you know, just that I was hoping the whole "living in America" thing was a dream and I wouldn't actually have to come back. I don't think I can do this again. Perhaps when I return to England next time I won't come back to the States again.' It was a pretty idea, though impossible, as I knew my mother would guilt me into returning at some point.

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I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)
Non-Fiction⚠️ Very important ⚠️ !!! This is a re-upload; I did NOT write this book. The author deleted their account. A brainy, awkward young American moves to England to attend Oxford University. She befriends a much older (historically heterosexual) female E...