More extracts from my book. This time it's 1982

Let me set the scene.
We lived in Leicester. My sister was at university in Stafford. It was forty-three miles away. I was 16. My brother was 11. It was snowing. My dad had been locked out for a couple of days afer having an arguement with my mum. Ok happy with that.

She made me take my eleven-year-old brother on a 43 mile journey in a clapped out car that I had never driven before. Actually I should rephrase that; I had never driven before, period. I would imagine you are probably reading this and thinking ‘whatever’, ‘no way’. I swear to you it’s the truth. She let me drive around the block in the car a few times to get used to it. I was male and sixteen. I obviously thought I could drive. To be honest, I was quite good, a natural actually. I was just frightened and pointed this out. Tears, threats and pleading started. I relented and my brother and I got ready for our journey.
The car was a red Austin Allegro. It was a rubbish looking car. At a time when the hatchback was taking over the world, British Leyland build a car that looks like a tortoise with a tiny boot. a tortoises arse was bigger than the boot on an Allegro.

We loaded it up, as best you could an Allegro and set off, map on my brothers lap and me driving. In truth the journey there was not really that much of a problem. I took my time and it wasn’t very busy. We got a little lost around Stafford town but soon found our way. I was really impressed with myself. I had white knuckle and spent thirty minutes walking around still maintaining a ten to two position, fingers curved over an imaginary steering wheel.
Once my blood pressure which had felt about 350/210 when I had arrived, had returned too normal and my face had stopped looking like an advert for ribena berries we decided to make the trip home.
The snow was coming down a little harder now so I took my time. My fingers were welded into the steering wheel and the bone in my knuckles was desperately trying to burst out of my hands.
We had been driving about twenty minutes along a long country lane when a car came speeding from the opposite direction, but in my lane. The twat was overtaking. Did he not realise there was a 16 year old coming straight at him. Oh fuck! It pulled back. My brother was screaming, I was screaming. I hit the brakes and the car span out of control into the side. I farted uncontrollably. Did I go with the spin? Against the spin. I just pressed harder, held on harder and decided I believed in God. The car stopped. We sat there for what seemed like ages. I was alive. My fingers were completely welded to the steering wheel. We were looking out of the window straight at a bush. We were upright. We started laughing. We laughed so much I think the phrase should be ‘we pissed ourselves laughing’. Then we cried. We got out and checked the car. The passenger side front tyre was flat. Fuck.

I had seen my dad change a tyre before so I had a pretty good idea what to do. I told my brother to stay in the car while I got to work. the tyre was in a mess. But I jacked the car up, and managed to change the tyre. I was elated with myself. I let the jack back down only to see that the passenger backside tyre was now flat. I examined the tyre. It didn’t appear damaged. I was freezing by this stage and the snow had turned to slush. In all this time while a 16 year old child was changing a car tyre in a grass verge three millimetres from a point where the land dropped three feet and not one person had stopped. To be honest I was glad.

I looked around and saw that the land to our right was farmland. I locked the car and walked up to the farmhouse with Jamie. This place seemed deserted. At the right of the house was what I can only assume used to be a tractor, rusty and dead. Behind that there was haystacks. To the left stood a couple of large wooden barns. We knocked at the blue front door and there was no answer. I looked left, right and behind me and tried the door, locked. We wandered round to the back of the house. I looked through the kitchen window expecting to see dead people. Empty. I knew I was getting frightened and needed to act quickly. We had no coats and were wet and cold. I took my brother to the barn we had seen to the left of the building. The inside of the barn seemed larger than the outside. It was full of, well just full of, stuff. Tools, machinery, more tools. Everything old and a brownish colour. We rooted around and then; good times, a car pump. We ran back to the car. I pumped the tyre and it seemed to work. We had been fortunate. We had a slow puncture.

We decided that we should start off by stopping every five miles to check. This was about the right distance. I would get out and re-inflate the tyre. Everytime we came to a petrol station I stopped and used their air to get it inflated hard. Because we were so wet, the inside of the car was completely steamed up. I had to constantly wipe the glass. We were nearly home. I was driving up the duel carriageway, just two miles from home. I was driving a little faster now. Then a police motorcyclist pulled up along side me. Looked across at me and tapped his odometer. I looked at mine. I was doing forty-seven in a forty. I held my hand up in a manly apologetic nature. He pulled away.
“Fuck me, thought we were done then” my brother commented. Two minutes later we pulled up at home. I got out the car and by the time I had walked to the front garden, I hit the floor. I had nothing left. The emotion from the previous three hours was too much. The front door opened and both mum and dad came out. She must have let him back in. I held my hands up for my dad to lift me up. I was an emotional wreck. My dad grabbed me by the shoulders and shouted at me
“What do you think you are doing taking my car? We’ve been worried sick” I looked at my mum behind him.
She said nothing, she pretended I had taken the car without permission.
I was thrown out of the house as punishment.
back on the street again
Bastard.