'It’s hard to hear anything over the racket of my luggage wheels'

I’M IN Stansted airport with two of my sisters, heading for Lisbon, where our youngest sister is waiting for us.

Or that is our hope. Her safe arrival there depends on too many variables, such as having to travel overnight from Sligo in a car worse than mine, then a coach worse than that. All we’ve received by way of updates is a Whatsapp photo of her new hens and the following text: “On coach full of piss-heads from Carrick FFF’s sake def drawn the short straw.”

We’ve heard nothing since. Not a dickie bird.