that mice wee all the time, like nonstop, and mouse wee could give you about eight hundred diseases. “Can I just run and get my gloves?” she said. Mum looked at her like she was the crazy one, but she nodded, so Tanzie ran and put them on and thought she felt a bit better.
Nicky eased his way gingerly into the front seat, and wiped at the dust on the dashboard with his fingers.
Mum opened the garage door, started the engine, reversed the car carefully out onto the drive. Then she climbed out, closed and locked the garage securely. Then sat and thought for a minute. “Tanze. Have you got a pen and paper?”
She fished around in her bag and handed her one. Mum didn’t want her to see what she was writing but Tanzie peeped through the seats.
FISHER YOU LITTLE WASTE OF SKIN I HAVE TOLD THE POLICE THAT IF ANYONE BREAKS IN IT WILL BE YOU AND THEY ARE WATCHING
She got out of the car and pinned it to the bottom part of the door, where it wouldn’t be visible from the street. Then she climbed back into the half-eaten driver’s seat and, with a low purr, the Rolls set off into the night.
—
It took them about ten minutes to work out that Mum had forgotten how to drive. The things that even Tanzie knew—mirror, signal, maneuver—she kept doing in the wrong order, and she drove leaning forward over the steering wheel, clutching it like the grannies who drove at fifteen m.p.h. around the town center and scraped their doors on the pillars in the municipal car park.
They passed the Rose and Crown, the industrial area with the five-man car wash and the carpet warehouse. Tanzie pressed her nose to the window. They were officially leaving town. The last time she had left town was on the school journey to Durdle Door when Melanie Abbott was sick all down herself in the coach and started a vomit chain reaction around the whole of 5C.
“Just keep calm,” Mum muttered to herself. “Nice and calm.”
“You don’t look calm,” said Nicky. He was playing Nintendo, his thumbs a blur on each side of the little glowing screen.
“Nicky, I need you to map read. Don’t play Nintendo right now.”
“Well, surely we just go north.”
“But where is north? I haven’t driven around here for years. I need you to tell me where I should be going.”
He glanced up at the signpost. “Do we want the M3?”
“I don’t know. I’m asking you!”
“Let me see.” Tanzie reached through from the back and took the map from Nicky’s hands. “What way up do I hold it?”
They drove through the roundabout twice, while she wrestled with the map, and then they were on the road out of town. Tanzie vaguely remembered this road: they had once come this way when Mum and Dad were trying to sell the air conditioners. “Can you turn the light on at the back, Mum?” she said. “I can’t read anything.”
Mum turned in her seat. “The button should be above your head.”
Tanzie reached up and clicked it with her thumb. She could have taken her gloves off, she thought. Mice couldn’t walk upside down. Not like spiders. “It’s not working.”
“Nicky, you’ll have to map read.” She looked over, exasperated. “Nicky.”
“Yeah. I will. I just need to get these golden stars. They’re five thousand points.” Tanzie folded the map as best she could and pushed it back through the front seats. Nicky’s head was bent low over his game, lost in concentration. To be fair, golden stars were really hard to get.
“Will you put that thing down!”
He sighed, snapped it shut. They were going past a pub she didn’t recognize, and now a new hotel. Mum said they were looking for the M3, but Tanzie hadn’t seen any signs for the M3 for ages. Beside her Norman started a low whine: she figured they had around thirty-eight seconds before Mum said it was shredding her nerves.
She made it to twenty-seven.
“Tanzie, please stop the dog. It’s making it impossible to concentrate. Nicky. I really need you to read the map.”
“He’s
Nicky eased his way gingerly into the front seat, and wiped at the dust on the dashboard with his fingers.
Mum opened the garage door, started the engine, reversed the car carefully out onto the drive. Then she climbed out, closed and locked the garage securely. Then sat and thought for a minute. “Tanze. Have you got a pen and paper?”
She fished around in her bag and handed her one. Mum didn’t want her to see what she was writing but Tanzie peeped through the seats.
FISHER YOU LITTLE WASTE OF SKIN I HAVE TOLD THE POLICE THAT IF ANYONE BREAKS IN IT WILL BE YOU AND THEY ARE WATCHING
She got out of the car and pinned it to the bottom part of the door, where it wouldn’t be visible from the street. Then she climbed back into the half-eaten driver’s seat and, with a low purr, the Rolls set off into the night.
—
It took them about ten minutes to work out that Mum had forgotten how to drive. The things that even Tanzie knew—mirror, signal, maneuver—she kept doing in the wrong order, and she drove leaning forward over the steering wheel, clutching it like the grannies who drove at fifteen m.p.h. around the town center and scraped their doors on the pillars in the municipal car park.
They passed the Rose and Crown, the industrial area with the five-man car wash and the carpet warehouse. Tanzie pressed her nose to the window. They were officially leaving town. The last time she had left town was on the school journey to Durdle Door when Melanie Abbott was sick all down herself in the coach and started a vomit chain reaction around the whole of 5C.
“Just keep calm,” Mum muttered to herself. “Nice and calm.”
“You don’t look calm,” said Nicky. He was playing Nintendo, his thumbs a blur on each side of the little glowing screen.
“Nicky, I need you to map read. Don’t play Nintendo right now.”
“Well, surely we just go north.”
“But where is north? I haven’t driven around here for years. I need you to tell me where I should be going.”
He glanced up at the signpost. “Do we want the M3?”
“I don’t know. I’m asking you!”
“Let me see.” Tanzie reached through from the back and took the map from Nicky’s hands. “What way up do I hold it?”
They drove through the roundabout twice, while she wrestled with the map, and then they were on the road out of town. Tanzie vaguely remembered this road: they had once come this way when Mum and Dad were trying to sell the air conditioners. “Can you turn the light on at the back, Mum?” she said. “I can’t read anything.”
Mum turned in her seat. “The button should be above your head.”
Tanzie reached up and clicked it with her thumb. She could have taken her gloves off, she thought. Mice couldn’t walk upside down. Not like spiders. “It’s not working.”
“Nicky, you’ll have to map read.” She looked over, exasperated. “Nicky.”
“Yeah. I will. I just need to get these golden stars. They’re five thousand points.” Tanzie folded the map as best she could and pushed it back through the front seats. Nicky’s head was bent low over his game, lost in concentration. To be fair, golden stars were really hard to get.
“Will you put that thing down!”
He sighed, snapped it shut. They were going past a pub she didn’t recognize, and now a new hotel. Mum said they were looking for the M3, but Tanzie hadn’t seen any signs for the M3 for ages. Beside her Norman started a low whine: she figured they had around thirty-eight seconds before Mum said it was shredding her nerves.
She made it to twenty-seven.
“Tanzie, please stop the dog. It’s making it impossible to concentrate. Nicky. I really need you to read the map.”
“He’s
Similar Books
