In the car on the way to the Easter Show, you sit and stare thoughtfully out the window. How are you going to get Johnny Franzetta’s skellington out of the Ghost Train?

Your mum notices you in the rear view mirror, and asks if everything’s okay.

“Yeah,” you reply. “Mum, have you ever been on the… Ghost Train?”

With a screech, your dad slams down on the brakes while your mother makes the sign of the cross.

“Madre de dios!” cries your dad, who is Mexican even though I hadn’t mentioned it before. “A Ghost… Train? I’ve never heard of anything so spooky in all my life. Are you sure you’re brave enough to go on such a scary ride?”

“Yes,” you shout. “I made a promise.”

Your parents shrug and keep driving, right up to the gates of the Royal Easter Show. They stand a hundred feet tall and depict HM Queen Victoria riding on top of the Easter Bunny, and then just the word SHOW underneath. They are made of solid gold and glitter tastefully in the morning light.

Usually they fill you with joy, but today they are a strangely ominous sight.

“Where should we go first?” asks your mum.

The Ghost Train? Go to page 7.

The Showbag Pavilion? Go to page 8.

Or the Agricultural District Exhibits? Go to page 9.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s