doubt conveyed her opinion that it was just a black car.
Seeing Kevin was attempting to climb up onto the front of it, Dad gently
pulled him away. Gus stepped forward and hoisted Georgie up onto his shoulders.
Bobby and Maxie arrived panting with exertion.
“Can
we go for a ride?” they chorused.
Without
waiting for an answer, they climbed into the back seat scrambling through
separate doors in an attempt to beat each other inside.
“Come
on, love. Hop into the driver’s seat,” said Dad.
Mum
laughed and made no move toward the car.
Gus
offered encouragement. “Go on. Take her for a spin.”
Mum
shook her head. “I’m the one who’ll be in a spin.”
Dad
was not going to take no for an answer. His excitement about his new
acquisition was infectious but Mum continued to eye the black vehicle
thoughtfully. Despite her apprehension, she was no doubt considering the
advantages of having a car to use while Dad was away. Dad sensed she was ready
to yield.
“Come
on, Mum. Just take her down to the gate. Get a feel for her.”
He
carried Kevin to the car.
“Let’s
put these two little tykes in the back with their brothers.”
Georgie
was struggling to get down so Gus lowered him to the ground and led him by the
hand to a back passenger door. My father called to me over his shoulder.
“Come
on, Brigid.”
“They
won’t all fit into the back seat,” said Mum with a laugh.
But
we did. We squashed and prodded and leaned and squeezed and found room.
Mum
made one final protest. “The baby’s asleep on the veranda.”
The
most recent addition to our family was always called ‘the baby’ or, in the case
of the twins, ‘the babies’, until a new baby arrived. This particular baby was
my sister, Irene.
“Gus’ll
keep an eye on her. Won’t you, Gus?”
Gus
nodded. “Yeah. She’ll be as right as rain with me.”
Finally,
Mum admitted defeat and gave in with a smile and a shake of her head. Dad
hurried over to her.
“Well,”
he said, gently steering her toward the open driver’s side door. “What are we
waiting for?”
Mum
allowed him to lead her to the car. With some hesitation, she slid in behind
the steering wheel. Dad closed the door, checked that both back doors were
properly shut, opened the front passenger side door and got in. He turned to
his brood of kids in the back seat and gave us a conspiratorial wink.
“Let’s
go for a drive,” he said.
He
slid across the bench seat closer to Mum. She fingered the steering wheel and
looked at Dad with a twinkle in her eye.
“Well,
what do I do now?” I could see she was beginning to enjoy herself.
Dad
beamed at her. Patiently, he explained the function of the pedals and levers.
Mum
released the handbrake. The car jumped forward. It rocked and lurched and
hopped like a kangaroo. Mum laughed and eventually managed to settle the car
into a smooth motion. Then, with Dad’s confident hands on the steering wheel to
guide her, she manoeuvred a turn so that we were heading toward the gate. The
car rattled down the driveway. Dad grinned over at Gus who waved at us as we
passed. Mum’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.
“C’mon
Mum, you’re doing well. We’ll take her along the track for a bit.”
Mum
was too absorbed in her task to answer. The car seemed to have a mind of its
own.
“Slow
her down a little as you go through the gate.”
Mum
looked at the controls, unsure what to do.
“Ease
your foot off the throttle,” he said.
She
did as he instructed. The car slowed as it passed through the gateway. Dad’s
hands turned the steering wheel so that they made a right hand turn into
Duggans Road. Turning left would have taken us to up to the highway and my
mother was definitely not ready for that. Surprisingly, the car rolled along
the gravel road without hopping or jerking. Mum pressed her foot down gently on
the throttle and we picked up speed slightly. Dad removed his hands from the
steering wheel. Instinctively, Mum
Seeing Kevin was attempting to climb up onto the front of it, Dad gently
pulled him away. Gus stepped forward and hoisted Georgie up onto his shoulders.
Bobby and Maxie arrived panting with exertion.
“Can
we go for a ride?” they chorused.
Without
waiting for an answer, they climbed into the back seat scrambling through
separate doors in an attempt to beat each other inside.
“Come
on, love. Hop into the driver’s seat,” said Dad.
Mum
laughed and made no move toward the car.
Gus
offered encouragement. “Go on. Take her for a spin.”
Mum
shook her head. “I’m the one who’ll be in a spin.”
Dad
was not going to take no for an answer. His excitement about his new
acquisition was infectious but Mum continued to eye the black vehicle
thoughtfully. Despite her apprehension, she was no doubt considering the
advantages of having a car to use while Dad was away. Dad sensed she was ready
to yield.
“Come
on, Mum. Just take her down to the gate. Get a feel for her.”
He
carried Kevin to the car.
“Let’s
put these two little tykes in the back with their brothers.”
Georgie
was struggling to get down so Gus lowered him to the ground and led him by the
hand to a back passenger door. My father called to me over his shoulder.
“Come
on, Brigid.”
“They
won’t all fit into the back seat,” said Mum with a laugh.
But
we did. We squashed and prodded and leaned and squeezed and found room.
Mum
made one final protest. “The baby’s asleep on the veranda.”
The
most recent addition to our family was always called ‘the baby’ or, in the case
of the twins, ‘the babies’, until a new baby arrived. This particular baby was
my sister, Irene.
“Gus’ll
keep an eye on her. Won’t you, Gus?”
Gus
nodded. “Yeah. She’ll be as right as rain with me.”
Finally,
Mum admitted defeat and gave in with a smile and a shake of her head. Dad
hurried over to her.
“Well,”
he said, gently steering her toward the open driver’s side door. “What are we
waiting for?”
Mum
allowed him to lead her to the car. With some hesitation, she slid in behind
the steering wheel. Dad closed the door, checked that both back doors were
properly shut, opened the front passenger side door and got in. He turned to
his brood of kids in the back seat and gave us a conspiratorial wink.
“Let’s
go for a drive,” he said.
He
slid across the bench seat closer to Mum. She fingered the steering wheel and
looked at Dad with a twinkle in her eye.
“Well,
what do I do now?” I could see she was beginning to enjoy herself.
Dad
beamed at her. Patiently, he explained the function of the pedals and levers.
Mum
released the handbrake. The car jumped forward. It rocked and lurched and
hopped like a kangaroo. Mum laughed and eventually managed to settle the car
into a smooth motion. Then, with Dad’s confident hands on the steering wheel to
guide her, she manoeuvred a turn so that we were heading toward the gate. The
car rattled down the driveway. Dad grinned over at Gus who waved at us as we
passed. Mum’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.
“C’mon
Mum, you’re doing well. We’ll take her along the track for a bit.”
Mum
was too absorbed in her task to answer. The car seemed to have a mind of its
own.
“Slow
her down a little as you go through the gate.”
Mum
looked at the controls, unsure what to do.
“Ease
your foot off the throttle,” he said.
She
did as he instructed. The car slowed as it passed through the gateway. Dad’s
hands turned the steering wheel so that they made a right hand turn into
Duggans Road. Turning left would have taken us to up to the highway and my
mother was definitely not ready for that. Surprisingly, the car rolled along
the gravel road without hopping or jerking. Mum pressed her foot down gently on
the throttle and we picked up speed slightly. Dad removed his hands from the
steering wheel. Instinctively, Mum
Similar Books
