Chapter Twelve“Remember, remember the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot,” Jon picked up the fireworks and carried them to the boot of his car.
“Don't forget the sparklers,” Ann called from the front passenger seat, “and hurry, we're late!”
Jon went back to the house, pulling the door firmly shut. Above him a firework erupted with a loud bang, leaving a blazing gold trail in the black night sky.
“I think we're in for a explosive night,” Jon said, as he strapped himself in, “all ready?”
“Put your foot down mister,” Ann replied, glancing at her watch.
They pulled off the drive, turned right to begin the journey to Anton, Lulu and of course Samuel's house.
On her lap Ann balanced a box of toffee apples, freshly made this morning.
“These were mine and my sister's favourit
