They powered onto a straight, past the church and the school, over the bridge and into a tight seventy degree turn onto the village road.

Man and boy were exhilarated, Colin clearly loving every minute of it. Then came a blind bend which was a challenge beyond Cal’s driving ability. He took the wrong line going into it and felt the rear go again. He screwed the wheels violently to compensate, but the momentum was too much and the offside tyres left the road, tearing through the grass to spin on air over the drainage ditch. There was a sickening grinding noise as the underside scraped on the road surface, and then the car came to a thudding halt.

Colin thumped against the passenger door and Cal was thrown in the same direction. There was momentary silence, broken by Cal exhaling loudly through his mouth. He jumped and went round to the nearside, his face contorting with apprehension. In the dark, he could see no obvious damage to the car. The left rear wheel was overhanging the incline, but the body remained on the level. He pulled open the passenger door. Colin was rubbing his shoulder and upper arm.

‘Are you hurt?’ he asked anxiously.

‘No,’ said Colin, ‘I’m fine. What about the car?’

‘Off the road. Can you get out?’

Cal leaned over and pulled open the door. Colin emerged, still holding his arm, and sidled along the lip of the ditch. The two of them stood behind the car and took in the situation.

‘It looks steady enough. If I give the engine a blast it should be enough to get it out.’

‘We could get a tractor,’ suggested Colin.

‘No. I don’t want anyone else involved. Wait there.’

Cal got back into the driver’s seat, re-engaged the gears, gunned the engine and jolted back on the clutch. Three wheels span instantly, then gripped the ground, shooting the car forward in a protesting discord of torn earth, stones and scraping metal. He had to wrench the steering wheel hard and stamp on the brakes to avoid plunging off the road on the other side.

Colin ran back up to the passenger side and got in.

‘Just got away with that, eh?’ Cal asked unnecessarily. ‘Is your arm alright? Should I be taking you to a doctor?’

‘No, it’s okay, just a bit sore. It’s okay, really.’

Cal started the car moving again. ‘Maybe this is why there aren’t many of these cars up here.’

There was no response.

‘You’d better not be laughing,’ he warned with a trace of embarrassed humour.

Colin shook his head, but didn’t look at him. 

‘What the hell’s that going to look like in the morning? My bloody car! These roads…’ Cal halted his outburst, realising how pathetic it sounded. ‘Your mother’ll be raging.’

‘She doesn’t need to know.’

‘No, she’s got to.’

‘Really. Everything’s okay. What’s the point of telling her?’

‘She’ll find out anyway.’

‘Who’s going to tell?’

‘I have to.’

‘Why?’

‘I nearly killed her son, that’s why.’

Colin laughed aloud. ‘You should’ve let me drive.’

‘You’re not old enough.’

‘Aye, well, you are, and look what happened.’

Cal jerked his arm up in a mock attempt to hit him.

‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough to me?’ the boy joked.

‘You think you can drive better than me?’ challenged Cal.

‘Couldn’t be much worse.’

‘Come on,’ he protested, ‘it was a bad corner.’

‘That’s the thing with people from the city. They buy these flash cars and they’re only driving from one traffic light to the next. What’s the point?’

‘It’s more than traffic lights.’

‘Oh yeah, there’s roundabouts too. No, this is what you want.