Three days in a disused lighthouse with thirty-six squares of chocolate and a dead sea-gull. Crap half-term alert.
Dad's back from the war and Mum's trying to give up smoking again. We're supposed to be having quality time together in this crummy cottage by the sea. My phone's out of credit and we're a day's march from the nearest doughnut. I've considered running away. Although the running bit will be strictly speaking innacurate as walking is the only option in my case. They don't call me Jelly-Boy for nothing.
Welcome to my world.