Pam Ann

I hope Max has perfected his air hostess (sorry, flight attendant) patter by now. Blagging that extra champagne, sneaking that peek down a lowered blouse as the drink is served, squeezing by on your way along the cabin. He is a man well versed in the arts of sly sky insinuation with the trolley dollies, but it’s hard to get by when her arse is the size of a small country. I hope he has chosen wisely.