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'Back the Way You Came' by Madeleine Armstrong
Before joining the A75, make a U-turn.
Drive for two miles along Route 69, which seems fresher than you remember, then turn right at that grassy spot, where your grown sons are picnicking with their families.
Carry straight on, past those dating site men who swore they wanted a mature woman, but flinched when they saw your pockmarked thighs.
Take the sliproad onto the M50, ignoring your ex-husband, who’s trying to thumb a ride.
Drive 15 miles, then turn off onto the A40. Suddenly you’re in a different car, not a beaten-up banger, but a dependable family vehicle that you wish you’d appreciated. There’s a younger version of you, hustling along the verge, dragging two kids with one hand and an elderly couple with the other, not even looking up to enjoy the flowers.
Turn left into Middletown, a 30-zone. Your fuel gauge veers into the red – what haven’t you ticked off your checklist? The engine sputters, about to break down...but then you’re in another new car, a deep- throated sporty number.
Take the second exit onto the M25, only it’s miraculously empty and you can go as fast as you like, barely noticing the young you dancing on the hard shoulder in a miniskirt and boots. You wish you could stay on this road forever, but you need to exit onto the A18. Your car becomes a bike, and you’re pedalling as fast as you can as traffic zooms past, people honking and shouting, so you peel off into a field, and you’re in that little pink Barbie car, your fifth birthday present, pushing along with your feet, towards your parents, who look so young, and you get closer and closer, until all you can see is the light that surrounds them.
