On the bus back, Barry decided to sit in the front with Elliott and Mama Cool. Elliott was driving and Mama Cool was sitting next to him. Barry noticed that they were both looking a little white and tense.
“So anyway, Barry, your party…” said Mama Cool.
“Oh yes! What kind of party should I have?”
“Yes, well, obviously you should do… um…”
Elliott put a hand on his wife’s knee. “Um. You sure you, like, want to say this?” he said quietly.
“No, Elliott. We’re committed to this way of life and we shall continue to be so whatever… the cost…”
“Yeah. Course, Mama. You’re, like, right…?”
“Barry. As we said at the start, you should always do exactly what you feel like doing. So you should have whatever party you feel like having!!”
By now, the bus was approaching the field with the Cools’ tent in it. Barry thought for a moment. “OK,” he said.
“Right! That’s all the cows on the bus! Let’s start the engines!”
Elliott and Mama Cool looked on from about ten metres away. They were clutching each other’s hands. Elliott was shaking his head. Mama Cool may have been crying. But she was still managing to hold on to a spotty tablecloth knotted on to a stick which Barry had decided would serve well as a chequered flag.
The James Bond and football parties not having worked that well with the other parents, Barry had decided to just work with whatever was in front of him: to go with the flow – which was something else he had heard Elliott and Mama Cool say.
So what he’d suggested for a party this time was: Animal Car Wars.
This is how you play Animal Car Wars. You fill up whatever vehicle happens to be at hand with whatever animal happens to be at hand. Then you fill up another vehicle with whatever other animal happens to be to hand. Then you race each other, and all forms of banging, knocking and animal-throwing are allowed.
It had taken a while to fill the bus, and had involved quite a lot of Elliott and Mama Cool falling over while pushing and shoving and getting covered in cowpats, but now all the cows were on. Some of them had their heads poking out of the windows, especially on the top deck. There had been a lot of aggrieved mooing. Plus a bit of aggrieved barking, which was confusing at first, until it became clear that Neil had got on the bus as well and was squashed underneath one particularly bloated udder.
The other car in the race was the Rolls-Royce limousine from Bottomley Hall. Barry had asked Elliott and Mama Cool to invite Jeremy, Teremy, Meremy, Heremy, Queremy, Smellemy, Sea Anemone and Dave. So they had phoned Bottomley Hall – they knew the number, since it turned out that their tent was pitched on Lord Rader-Wellorff’s land – and Peevish had driven straight over with them.
Peevish had been less certain about playing Animal Car Wars, but Jeremy, Teremy, Meremy, Heremy, Queremy, Smellemy, Sea Anemone and Dave had all insisted that they weren’t going to bottle out of a challenge, otherwise they didn’t deserve the name Rader-Wellorff.
Which was why the double-decker bus was now lined up in a starting position beside the Rolls-Royce limousine, the bus filled with cows (and one dog), the limo with sheep. Although cows were the bigger of the two animals, the limo looked more stuffed as it also had to fit Jeremy, Teremy, Meremy, Heremy, Queremy, Smellemy, Sea Anemone and Dave (and Peevish, driving).
Elliott Cool got into the driver’s seat of the bus, next to Barry.
“OK,” said Barry. “You work the pedals and I’ll do the steering wheel.”
“Like, really?” said Elliott.
“Yes. My feet can’t reach the pedals.”
“Yes, I can see that. But I mean… really?”
“Well, it is exactly what I want…” said Barry.
“Like, OK…?” said Elliott grimly and put his feet on the pedals.
“Rev, please,” said Barry.
Elliott took a deep breath and revved the accelerator. To the side of them, the Rolls-Royce limo revved in reply.
Barry nodded towards Mama Cool standing in front, between the bus and the limo. She looked terrified, but raised her flag anyway – the spotty tablecloth fluttered for a second in the wind – and then brought it down.