"Hey, hey, where you off to?" Tom calls from the side of the path.

"Home, Tom. I'm going home", I say with a huge smile on my face. It feels so good to be saying those words.

"Well, um, let me come with you", he pleads.

"Tom, are you sure? I mean it's a different country, a different continent even. Are you sure?" I ask.

"If it means being with the woman I love, then yes. I want to spend the rest of my life with you", he lovingly declares.

"Then come on then, but", I say, and I notice I've picked up a bit of their accent. I try calling for a taxi, but my phone promptly dies. WHY NOW? It works all the time when I don't need it and when Peter is texting me, but it stops when I need to go home. Tom, seeing this, taps me on the shoulder and points to three dozy white sheep, trussed up in harnesses and reins.

"Your kidding me right? Remember what happened last time", I joke.

"I believe in you", Tom replies.

"Okay. But if I go and crash another wedding, it's your fault", I say and go and sit on the one on the end. I chose it because it looks like a cloud. A very sleepy cloud. "So what's this one called then?" I ask.

"You don't recognise her", he says, half-laughing. "It's Barbara, your very best friend".

"Oh, we meet again, do we?" I ask her and she snorts back. I guess some things never change.

Gruffydd and Tom saddle up and we gallop off into the distance. It's so much easier with reins, but Tom is still shouting commands at his in Welsh. We continue riding, passing hills and sheep and wells and sheep and farmers and sheep and mines and sheep and even more sheep. So, basically hundreds of sheep.

It's a very bumpy ride and by the time we reach the main road, I feel like every bone in my body is shaking. We get off our ride and they immediately run back to the village, which is now just a tiny dot in the distance. Four taxis, all muddy and rusty underneath speed down the road. Gruffydd steps in front of one and it stops straight away. Wonder where he learnt that trick? He goes up to it and, after a very shouty chat with the driver, invites us in.

It's a quick drive to the airport and soon we're dumped at the steps of Cardiff International Airport. Where my Glyntafon adventure began, and now where it ends.

We rush up the steps and push through the hoards of mothers and kids that seemed to have multiplied since I was here last. It all seems very different, the assistants at the desk seem happier than in New York and even the security guards seem cheerier. I bang my handbag on the desk and drop my bag to my side. "Three tickets to New York, please", I say to her and she points to the debit card machine. She flings three tickets on the desk and I tap in my P.I.N. "Byddwch yn preswylio mewn ugain munud", she says in Welsh.

"Diolch", Tom answers. We take the tickets and head off through all the security and can finally get onto the plane. The sun is shining down on us, but I have my doubts on how long it will last. Giving our tickets in, we find our seats and (thankfully) I'm sitting in a comfortable seat.

It's a long flight, but the time soon passes by and soon we're back in New York. The familiar sights of 'I Love New York' t-shirts and hot dog stands welcome me back. I rush through the crowds of tourists and families to get to the exit. I see two hands waving at me far back in the distance. Okay, maybe I went a bit too quick for them. I patiently wait at the exit and finally see them crawl out of the crowds. "Is it always like this?" Tom wheezes, brushing himself down.

"Yep, welcome to my world", I reply cheerfully.  We then venture out onto a high street not far from the airport and the boys look in the wonder through the windows of the shops. I still remember the first time my Mum took me shopping. I thought I was in Heaven when I saw my first shoe store, let alone the sale sign in Barney's. But that was a long time ago, I've grown up, now I get excited over Ralph Lauren sales.

We continue to fight through the current of shoppers and finally get to a tiny alleyway in between a charity shop and a McDonald's. I beckon the boys through it and soon we're in front of my house. Learnt where that was when I was ten, I could sneak out and get McDonald's whenever I wanted in about five minutes depending on the queue. As soon as I reach the end of the alley, I stop and wait, but the boys continue walking into the next estate. "Hey, where yo off to, boy?" I call. "This is my house". They give me a face of doubt and, to prove them wrong, wander up to the door and unlock it. I invite them in and they shrug then wander in. "Wow...", they both say in unison.

"Oh, hello, Kelly. Welcome home", Alfred says from the dining room doorway.

"Hi Alfred. Um, could you get everyone into the dining room, staff, parents, even the dog?" I announce. He nods and hurries off into the pantry.

"So , you live here", Tom mumbles.

"Yep, well, maybe not for long", I answers pointing to stacks of boxes behind the door. Looks like Mum and Dad are in the process of being evicted.

"Miss Kennington, everyone is ready for you", Alfred wheezes. "I will stay here".

"No, no, you must come too", I say. He nods obediently and follows me, Gruffydd and Tom into the dining room.

Well, here goes. Either this will fix all our problems or will burn a lot of my bridges.