The man in the sports car stopped by the side of a road. Nothing for miles around except darkness and fields and hedges. Way across the fields there was a line of houses. Yellow lights in the dark. We pulled up and he and Mum were arguing in the front. Mum turned around and said to me, "Get out. Quickly now."

I was scared, but I did. Mum opened her door at the same time. It was freezing cold outside. My skin prickled and my eyes watered and it felt like I'd been punched in the nose. My feet didn't feel right on the bare ground when for hours they'd been resting on the humming floor of the car. Mum was yelling at the man, and then the man was trying to push her out. But she was holding him, hitting him, screaming at the same time.

I don't know what happened then. Not really. But suddenly I was in and lunging past her and hitting blindly at him. His face was a bulldog face, and he humphed and grunted and I was yelling too, Mum and me both squirming as we tried to hit him, and that happened and happened and happened for ages and then, all at once, me and Mum both together tumbled out of the car.

The door slammed shut as it sped off. And then we were alone by the side of the road, me and Mum, both of us panting. The cold air hurt. My chest hurt. Mum knelt down and hugged me and didn't say anything, and the whole thing actually was only about ten seconds or so. Nothing. A blink. We were there in the dark and quiet and all at once I wasn't sure if it had really just happened or if I had imagined it.