Both left and right.
Gerald was certain that they were talking about him.
He was 100% sure.
They’d been flying for hours and Gerald was hoping, no praying, that none of the rest were going to ask him where in the hell they were.
Gerald had found himself at the front of the V quite by accident. He’d not been paying proper attention and, among all the swiping on Gander and the infernal, incessant and irritating honks, barks and cackles, Gerald had gone from an inconspicuous left sided member of the flying team, to suddenly steering this thing.
Now Gerald had the basics down. This was the return journey. So, well, they should be going Northward. But the troop had packed up early. Something about warmer conditions and snap frosts.
The lady geese, it had been said, had flown off early, so..it made sense to follow.
Gerald had been scouring the skies for tell-tale signs. There were markers that were laid down.
Some natural.
Others not so.
The point was that you turned left at this mountain, veered right at that monument.
The gaggle were tiring. This had been a long stint. Gerald was panicking slightly and had, for want of a better phrase been flying blind.
It had not helped that Luxembourg was still covered in near unbroken cloud. Just as it was when they had left it months ago.
So, Gerald had opted to trail a couple of cargo jets.
Risking bird-strike, Gerald had taken the gaggle into the dissipating contrails and hoped for the best.
Bertie, and the knob head Barnaby, had been carping on for near two hours about this being the wrong strategy, and Gerald was hoping for some hail or even a localized storm where a fork of lightning might somehow cook, you know, metaphors... but, alas Bertie and Barnaby were still on about needing to find an IKEA and go from there.
Maybe they were right and Gerald did have a taste on for the meatballs and some scatter cushions.
So, there it was, IKEA, a top up and a look at where they were.
They could judge that by the brochure language on general locale and not make the mistake on taking license plates as a point of reference. People travel from miles around to get their flat pack fix.
Gerald located a thermal, gave a hopeful honk and banked right.
This was a good a plan as any.
