I had decided that Daughter 3 should have between seven and ten lessons with a professional on the open road before I took her out or - be still my pounding heart - let her drive us into work/college. Twenty-four hours after her first lesson she pipes up, 'So, will you take me for a practice drive round the industrial estate?' and the words, 'Yeah, sure,' were out of my mouth before my fear could take control.
I don't know my way round this industrial estate so we explored lots of dead ends and enormous, empty car-parks until an unexpected roundabout materialised in front of us. I suppose it is my job to spot the road signs but I am too busy checking distance from the kerb and whether there is any aggressive vehicle following. She coped absolutely fine, so much encouraged, I suggested she drive some of the way home, you know, on roads with other cars on them.
The only glitch was a wrong gear change which resulted in an extreme hill-start which we managed between us, me taking charge of the hand-brake and Daughter taking the clutch and accelerator. Otherwise I clung convulsively to my seat, gasping quietly for air, in relative safety.
Is she going to make me do this every week?
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