Read Online The Punjabi Pappadum by Robert Newton - Free Book Online

the car lurched forward and away from the curb. Up the hill it chugged, creaking and groaning in protest at the full load.
    â€œNice old Morris, Ron,” said Sam. “What year is it, 1954?”
    â€œHow’d you know?”
    â€œMy dad’s a mechanic. He restores old cars. I’ve been crawling under ’em since I was three.”
    â€œWell, fancy that.”
    Crunch. The gear stick found second.
    â€œSounds like a dodgey clutch cable, Ron.”
    â€œYou reckon?”
    â€œPretty sure.”
    Ron and Sam did most of the talking on the short drive, which suited the boys just fine. Like long-lost relatives they were, mouths running at full speed.
    â€œDo you mind if I ask you something, Ron?” said Sam.
    â€œShoot.”
    â€œNo offence, but I was wondering what the go was with that nursing home. I mean, you’re not that old, are you?”
    â€œI don’t actually live there, Sam. My unit’s round the back in Cecil Street. I do a bit of voluntary work with some of the more mobile residents — gardening mainly. It does them wonders to get outside in the sunshine.”
    â€œSo you’ve still got a driver’s licence, then?”
    â€œDon’t worry, Sam, I’m not ready for a wheelchair just yet.”
    Finally they glided past Burger Barn, and for the third week in a row Ron backed the old Morris into the darkened alley.
    â€œThe boys tell me your feet smell like old fish,” said Ron.
    â€œIs that right?” Sam glared over one shoulder.
    â€œYep … reckon you’ve got a voice like an angel, too.”
    â€œYeah?” She beamed. “They really said that?”
    Grinning from ear to ear, Sam ducked down to the bag at her feet. On her way there she bumped her head hard on the dashboard.
    â€œOuch!”
    â€œClumsy too, they said.”
    Carefully she removed something from her bag and placed it on the front seat.
    A bright flash lit the car as she struck a match.
    â€œDa daaaaah!”
    â€œIs that what I think it is?” asked Ron, drooling.
    â€œChocolate mud cake,” smiled Sam, lifting it aloft. “Did they tell you I could cook?”
    Suddenly the boys in the back perked up. Sam turned to them, her face lit by a flickering flame.
    â€œHappy birthday, Veejay.”
    As they soon found out, there is only so much partying you can do inside a crammed Morris Minor. So, with bellies full of tea and mudcake, the group kicked back and soaked up the background music coming from the ancient AM radio. Only Sam could see the wetness in Ron’s eyes.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” she asked.
    â€œIt’s this song.” His voice quivered. “It was our wedding song.”
    â€œYou and Nance?”
    â€œYeah. Frank Sinatra — ‘The Way You Look Tonight’.”
    â€œDid you dance?” asked Sam, laying her hand on his arm.
    â€œAll night, darling.”
    The time was 11.00 pm and the last of Burger Barn’s clientele were long gone. Inside the Morris, things had deteriorated into a slumber party.
    â€œI think we’re on, guys,” whispered Ron, stiffening in his seat.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” asked Veejay.
    â€œThe lights inside the restaurant just flashed three times. I’m betting it’s some sort of signal.”
    â€œCool,” replied Veejay. “Maybe this birthday isn’t going to be a dud after all … Sorry everyone, no offence.”
    â€œWhat do we do?” asked Dexter.
    â€œJust sit tight,” said Ron calmly. “Veejay, hand me the telescopic camera, will you. It’s in the bag on the floor there. Grab the walkie-talkies too.”
    â€œRoger.”
    The boys in the back were hard up against the front seat now, eyes peeled. A group of three men shuffled nervously under the spotlight.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” asked Travis.
    â€œKeep your shirt on,” said Ron, adjusting the telescopic lens. “Let’s