Chapter 51

It was clear Mum was undecided and urging me to make a casting vote.

Mum driving through the night to get us out of the jurisdiction of Italian police was a logical aim. But she wasn’t a professional driver, accustomed to driving for extended periods, and especially not at night. Also I had doubts about how quickly the finger of suspicion might really veer in our direction; in any case we had diverged from the principal routes towards our most obvious destination, the French channel ports.

“Mum, I don’t think it’s worth the risk of driving all night. You’re worth more to me than some stupid piece of metal.” As soon as I’d said that, I realised I’d made up my mind about the forthcoming reconciliation meeting. Mum and Dad loved each other and I couldn’t see them separating, but I couldn’t bear to think of being apart from Mum and Janey. I would tolerate Dad’s offhandedness if necessary, but he’d seemed more like his former self since hearing his HR manager had resigned.

Mum went quiet at that, then I thought I heard sniffling. “Okay, look in my guide book and see if it has any recommendations for accommodation in this area.”

I dug out the guide book and searched. “There’s a recommended pensione on this route about an hour away, but they don’t serve evening meals,” I said.

“That’ll do,” said Mum. “How do you feel about eating crap tonight?”

“I guess.” I had enjoyed my experience of Italian food and it was a shame to miss out on hopefully our last night in the country.

Mum indicated, then pulled off the road into a rest stop. “Voila,” she said. “At least it’s not McDonalds.”

The food was catered by a drive-through, but there was adequate parking for us to sit and eat in the car, and the accompanying petrol station had toilets. Mum and I both had a burger and chips, washed down by coffee. At least Italians knew how to put together a decent side salad.

Mum called ahead to the pensione to check whether they had a suitable vacancy. They weren’t happy at how late we would be arriving but they were persuaded to reserve a room for us. After a quick stretch of the legs and a toilet break, Mum filled up petrol and we set off again. The hour drive to the pensione seemed interminably long and it was fully dark by the time we got there. We had to ring the doorbell and the owners were grumpy when they let us in. But after they saw Mum’s plus one was me and she spoke to them in her improving Italian, they lightened up. Mum took the bed and I had a put-me-up again. After a quick shower I crawled into bed and was out like a light.

After a rushed early continental breakfast the next morning, we set off again. We celebrated crossing into the comparative safety of France just before lunchtime by giving a cheer. The rest of the journey to Santander was uneventful. We spent two more nights in bed and breakfast places, one in France and the other just over the border in Spain, arriving at Santander just after lunchtime on Monday.

We were lucky with the ferry timings and Mum booked a cabin to Portsmouth. However Spain was a major artery on the drugs route into Europe and we got asked some serious questions by customs, who then proceeded to search our car. Thankfully Mum’s purse warranted only a passing glance. The sniffer dogs didn’t find anything suspicious and we were allowed to board.

The ferry journey wasn’t pleasant because the sea was quite choppy. Keeping food down was a real struggle. But early Tuesday evening we arrived at Portsmouth.