ONTHE RIGHT ROAD

Somehow I never did get around to telling mum that there was a quicker way…

What are you planning to wear to Maria’s party on Friday, Annie?” Mum asked as she moved the car down a gear. We were approaching the fork in the road. The one where Mum always took the wrong turn, adding half an hour on to our journey.

“I’m thinkingmy red dress,” I said, wondering if I should tell her now about the turning. If I didn’t speak out we’d soon be on the wrong road again… “Good choice. That really suits you.” Tell her now, I urgedmyself. It was too late. She’d turned the wrong way and our course was set. “Will Kyle be there?” My face grew warmat the mention of the boy I liked, and all idea of tellingMum the truth – that there was a faster way to get tomy grandparents’ house – faded.

“I hope so. Maria invited him,” I told her, grinning like an idiot.

Home was always chaotic – there was never any time to talk properly. Mum ran her own business from our dining room, making wedding dresses. There were always people popping in to see her.

So I was glad whenmy grandparents moved. Not because I didn’t want to see them, but because it meant I got this quiet time with Mum every Sunday as we drove to visit them. Her habit of taking the wrong road meant we had that bit of extra time together.

For the first few months we’d travelled this way, I’d no idea what a terrible sense of direction Mum had. Then Grandad took me to stay for a week in the summer holidays, and I realised then just how much of a detour Mum always took.

I knew I’d have to tell her soon. She was so busy – it wasn’t fair that I said nothing and let her waste time like this.

I’d tell her next week. Definitely.

The following Sunday, though, as with all the other weeks since I’d discovered the truth, I missedmy chance.

“Did you speak to Kyle at the party?” she asked as we approached the fork.

Bad timing, Mum. I needed at least the time it would take us to negotiate the detour to tell her all about how Kyle and I had talked at the party – and how we’d chatted online yesterday. Next week, I’d definitely tell her. Fate took matters into its own hands before the following week, though.

I arrived home from school on Monday to find Mum in a panic. This worried me. Mum never panicked. “Grandad phoned,” she said, trembling. “What’s wrong?” I was almost too afraid to hear the reply.

“Gran’s fallen on the path. He’s called an ambulance. I said I’d wait for you to come home and meet them at the house.”

We left straight away, with me still in my school uniformand Mum stopping only to pick up her handbag.

Tell her now, Annie, I toldmyself as we approached the fork in the road. We had to get to Gran as soon as possible. “Er, Mum, just here you need to –” Before I could say any more, she indicated and went the way Grandad had gone – the short way.

I sent her a long sideways glance. Her expression gave nothing away, but I suspected she’d known all along.

Gran had sprained her ankle. “It could have been worse,” she said with a brave smile after she’d been fixed up with a rather fetching medical boot. “What happened?” Mum asked. “I tripped over next door’s cat and your father panicked.”

Grandad had travelled with Gran to the hospital. We’d followed, and now we took them both home. “Will you stay for tea?” Grandad asked. “Best not,” Mum said. “I’ve got a ton of work to do, and Annie will have homework, but we’ll see you on Sunday.”

After a round of kisses and hugs we were off homewards.

“So, Mum,” I started. “You knew all along about taking the wrong road.” She smiled. “It gave us longer together to chat.” “It did,” I agreed with a smile. “So are we taking the right road back?”

“Of course we are,” she said as she turned towards the long way home.