“Does she still make that high-pitched keening sound every time you accelerate?”
Pascoe is reminiscing with Perran and Carenza about when I used to take him out for driving practice.
“My personal favourite is when she sort of scrabbles at the passenger door, as if she’s trying to get out,” agrees Perran.
“Or the way she keeps stamping on that invisible brake,” chuckles Carenza.
I will not rise to the bait. I will not rise to the bait.
At least those bits are exciting. Nowadays I seem to spend a lot of time staring into space listening to the crunching of one or other of the twins trying to engage that elusive reverse gear preparatory to a manoeuvre.
I try to stay focused in the face of intense boredom as technically I am in charge of the car. I don’t use my phone or read a book, but inside my head, I am wandering along the strandline of a Cornish beach.
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