“ “What’s the matter?” I asked. “I don’t know how to drive,” she admitted. I’m nowhere near old enough to take my test yet, either, but I’ve driven the tractor on my uncle’s farm a few times. “I’ll do it.” Lydia tossed me the keys and ran round to jump in the passenger seat. I started the engine, released the handbrake — and we were off. We roared past the camp site’s offices and the small shop and cafe — all locked up and dark — and we’d driven a couple of hundred metres along the ca...useway before the engine stalled. It was probably just as well; the tide was still in and covering the road. All I could see was black, churning water. One false move and we’d end up in the sea. I turned the key, spinning the starter motor over. Nothing. I tried again. Just a groaning whirr. The engine wouldn’t start. “What are you doing?” demanded Lydia. I could hear the panic rising in her voice. “I’m not doing anything.” “Start the engine!”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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