Читать книгу The Taylor TurboChaser - David Baddiel - Страница 12

Rahul sighed, and handed the Whiter-Tooth-Whiz 503 back to Janet.

“Eight pounds, please,” he said.

Janet shook her head, and opened her mouth to continue to protest.

But Amy cut her off.

“Hello? Never mind the Whiter-Tooth-Whiz!”

“503.”

“What?”

“The Whiter-Tooth-Whiz 503,” said Rahul.

“Whatevs.” Amy spread out her hands. “This is going to be your best invention ever!”

Janet frowned at her. “Rahul’s going to invent you?”

“Not me, idiot,” said Amy, pointing downwards. “This. The wheelchair.”

“Huh? But it’s invented already …” said Janet. “I can see it very clearly.”

“Amy thinks I can re-invent it …” said Rahul.

“What does that mean?”

“It means …” said Amy, “he’s going to make it into … well, I’ll show you.”

She turned and faced away from them, towards a free section of the playground, where no other kid was fighting, running or skipping.

“Taylor lines up her car, in pole position on the Indianapolis 500 track.”

“Who are you talking to?” said Janet. “And why has your voice gone so deep?”

“She’s being a motor racing commentator, Janet,” whispered Rahul.

“Oh,” said Janet.

Amy’s eyes went up. “She’s watching for the chequered flag. A lot of work has gone into this machine since the last race. Rahul, head of her team of mechanics, has turbo-charged its engines, and reworked the tyres, and streamlined the body, and now it’s a speed-machine.”

She mimed turning a key.

“Brrrrrrrmmmmmm. Brrrrrrrrrrmmmmm. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmm! Listen to that! Even from the commentary box we can hear it. It sounds …” and here her voice went very deep, as she did an impression of one of the men on a TV show about cars that seemed to always be on some channel somewhere “… like the devil clearing his throat.”

“Right,” said Rahul. “I’m really not sure – even though I am, obviously, great at inventing – that I can make your wheelchair into the kind of vehicle you’re imagi—”

“NEEEEEWOOOOOWWWW!” Amy shouted, leaning over to the right, and miming holding a steering wheel (and doing a race-car-speeding-past noise, in case you were wondering).

“NEEEEEEWOOOOWWWWWW!” she shouted again, leaning to the left. “AWAY SHE FLIES!”

Then she sat up, pressed the lever forward, and the chair went off.

At about two miles an hour.