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cash only.’

I think under the circumstances this is very sensible, but Dad looks infuriated. He nods to himself as he thinks.

‘Okay,’ he says. ‘Cash only. Thanks.’

Mum makes an awkward face at him. But I know Dad will sort this out. Like Mum, he can be very effective in a crisis. I have to say that as parents they are very capable and generally set a good example.

‘Could we get a round of ice cream?’ asks Dad, smiling. See what I mean? The lady turns round to fetch it.

Mum nudges Dad like he’s done something wrong.

‘We don’t have enough money for lunch, let alone ice cream,’ she whispers.

‘Kids, get your stuff together,’ says Dad, quietly standing up.

Wait. What? What about the ice cream? What about the bill?

Mum’s eyes widen as she realizes what Dad’s saying.

‘We’re off. Now. While she’s in the kitchen,’ he says.

Now, we have not paid for the best fish and chips in the country, but I hear what Dad is saying, and I like it. We are now involved in an ‘escapade’ (thank you, word of the month for January). An escapade is like an adventure but not as adventurous. It’s just exciting and can sometimes involve mild law-breaking.

‘We can’t just leave!’ says Mum. ‘We have to explain.’

‘She’ll make us do all the washing-up to pay for the food and we’ll end up living here,’ says Dad. ‘She does not seem a very kind woman.’

‘And I don’t even think she was telling the truth about the fish and chips being the best in the country,’ I add.

Mum and Dad suddenly remember I’m there.

‘What are we teaching the kids if we do this?’ says Mum and then she nods at the camera above the bar. ‘And we’re on CCTV!’

‘CCTV? The screens don’t work!’ says Dad. ‘Now come on!’

We are making a run for it!

This is MADNESS!

We reach the car, Dad flings open the doors and I climb in and pull Teddy behind me. I put on his seatbelt and then do my own while Dad turns on the ignition.

Dad has never done anything like this before. He once had to go on a speed-awareness course because he got caught going too fast in his car and he was so ashamed he volunteered to set fire to his licence there and then, but the course instructor said it was fine and could he put the matches down. That’s why he drives so slowly now.

I don’t think the car is going to be good for a quick getaway though, cos instead of starting it just goes WAW-WAW-WAW-WAWWWWW!

‘Come on!’ yells Dad. ‘Don’t let me down now!’

But the car is stuttering and yawning and it won’t wake up! So Dad says he’ll push and Mum should get it going. He runs round the back and Mum takes his place in the driving seat and I keep looking out of the back window for the woman with the best ice cream in the country.

Then she’s there. She’s standing at our table, staring at where we’d been sitting, with a tray of ice-cream bowls in her hands and a confused look on her face.

And then she turns and we lock eyes!

‘Now!’ yells Dad, as Mum turns the key so hard it looks like she’s trying to put the car in a headlock.

The car wheezes – then moves!

But.

We are moving at perhaps four miles per hour.

Dad is pushing the car as hard as he can. We are nearly out of the car park.

But really not very quickly.

The lady who was inside is now outside, literally walking alongside us, shouting VERY rude words at Dad. She caught us in about three seconds flat. It is incredibly awkward. I keep mouthing, ‘I’m so sorry.’

Dad seems unwilling to look at her, I think because he is so ashamed of what we are doing and maybe because this is honestly the slowest getaway in history. It just goes on and on. You can hear the wheels slowly squeaking.

The lady has her hands on her hips and is yelling things like, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ and calling us ‘thieves’ and ‘pirates’!

Now no one is looking at her and I start to worry that she might follow us all the way to Rendlesham.

And then the car finally finds its power!

‘I’m so sorry!’ yells a happy Dad as the engine comes to life. ‘I’m so sorry!’

‘You *rude word* *rude word* *very rude word*!’ shouts the lady, and now I know a new rude word!

‘I’ll pay you back!’ shouts Dad as he jumps into the passenger seat. ‘I have to see my mother!’

And he slams shut the door and Mum jams her foot on the accelerator!

‘Your driving is too aggressive!’ says Dad, as Mum speeds down the road.

‘Well, I’m driving now!’ she yells, snapping her fingers right in front of his face.

The car is still very bumpy but Mum has taken full control, including turning down the heating so we don’t feel like we’re in the Sahara.

‘Watch out for that car!’ shouts Dad. He is a terrible passenger. He is very jittery and thinks everything is dangerous. Whenever he is in the passenger seat, he is always pressing his foot down like he’s trying to find the brakes, even though he doesn’t have any.

‘That car is a quarter of a mile away,’ says Mum.

Dad is right: Mum changes really quickly when she is behind the wheel. She is usually so polite and in control, but when we’re in the car she turns the music up really loud and either acts really silly or starts shouting at old men she thinks are driving too slowly. Once she did that rude sign with her hand. You know the one.

Dad, on the other hand, becomes really serious when he drives.

Although, when I think about it, he has been quite serious for a while now, even when he’s not driving.

As we speed away, I see all these vans at the side of the road, in a lay-by. Delivery vans. Brown

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