As the tethering cable unwound the balloon rose slowly and majestically into the sky. Wilson waved both arms in the air and called down to me, 'Look at me, New Dad! I'm flying!'
Antony climbed up into the criss-cross web of ropes securing the basket to the balloon. He looked very precarious up there and I thought my catching skills might be required, but the balloon's pilot ordered him to come down and stay in the basket.
By the time it reached its maximum height of 500ft the balloon was swaying around in the wind and I became less concerned about having to catch Antony than being caught by Wilson's projectile vomiting; then I remembered that he has some experience of flying and in fact comes from a long line of aviators.
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