Page 71 of The One Plus One
Mum reached back through the seats and mouthed, ‘Plastic bag.’ Tanzie handed over hers. ‘Just in case,’ she said cheerfully, and opened her window a bit.
Mr Nicholls drove really slowly for the next few miles. So slowly that two cars kept flashing them from behind and one driver sat on his horn really angrily as he passed. Sometimes he veered a bit across the white line, like he wasn’t really concentrating, but Tanzie registered Mum’s determined silence and decided not to say anything.
‘How long now?’ Mr Nicholls kept muttering.
‘Not long,’ said Mum, even though she probably had no idea. She patted his arm, like he was a child. ‘You’re doing really well.’
When he looked at her, his eyes were anguished.
‘Hang on in there,’ she said quietly, and it was like an instruction.
And then, about half a mile further along, ‘Oh, God,’ he said, and slammed the brakes on again. ‘I need to –’
‘Pub!’ Mum yelled, and pointed towards one, its light just visible on the outskirts of the next village. ‘Look! You can make it!’
Mr Nicholls’s foot went down on the accelerator so that Tanzie’s cheeks were pulled back in G-force. He skidded into the car park, threw the door open, staggered out and hurled himself inside.
They sat there, waiting. The car was so quiet that they could hear the engine ticking.
After five minutes, Mum leant across and pulled his door shut to keep the chill out. She looked back and smiled at them. ‘How was that Aero?’
‘Nice.’
‘I like Aeros too.’
Nicky, his eyes closed, nodded to the music.
A man pulled into the car park with a woman wearing a high ponytail and looked hard at the car. Mum smiled. The woman did not smile back.
Ten minutes went by.
‘Shall I go and get him?’ said Nicky, pulling his ear-buds from his ears and peering at the clock.
‘Best not,’ said Mum. Her foot had started tapping.
Another ten minutes passed. Finally, when Tanzie had taken Norman for a walk around the car park and Mum had done some stretches on the back of the car because she said she was bent out of shape, Mr Nicholls emerged.
He looked whiter than anyone Tanzie had ever seen, like paper. He looked like someone had rubbed at his features with a cheap eraser.
‘I think we might need to stop here for a bit,’ he said.
‘In the pub?’
‘Not the pub,’ he said, glancing behind him. ‘Definitely not the pub. Maybe…maybe somewhere a few miles away.’
‘Do you want me to drive?’ Mum said.
‘No,’ everyone said at once, and she smiled and tried to look like she wasn’t offended.
The Bluebell Haven was the only place within ten miles that wasn’t fully booked. It had eighteen static caravans, a playground with two swings and a sandpit, and a sign that said ‘No Dogs’.
Mr Nicholls let his face drop against the steering-wheel. ‘We’ll find somewhere else.’ He winced and doubled over. ‘Just give me a minute.’
‘No need.’
‘You said you can’t leave the dog in the car.’
‘We won’t leave him in the car. Tanzie,’ said Mum. ‘The sunglasses.’
