your father is very welcome to chase burglars around the local town here, I would enjoy the spectacle,’ said the Colonel. ‘However, the key thing is that we must all be patient and kind and understanding, even if he is a little angry about things. Remember, he has been very worried about you, and your mother has been ringing me almost every hour.’
The four of them sat in silence for a minute while Mum and Dad displayed their passports and were checked for weapons, made their way past the guards, and then through into the small cafe.
Kate immediately ran to hug them both. She was followed just after by Hector, who felt unsure what to do, until Colonel Bertrand gave him a firm push. Mum was in silent tears while Dad had a very grim and set look on his face.
It was Mum who first broke the silence.
‘Thank you very much for looking after them,’ she began, speaking to Colonel Bertrand. Keith Chatterton quickly introduced himself, and then sat down again.
‘Mrs Trogg, you have two clever, resourceful and very brave children. In the latest attack, it was your children who saved some of my men,’ said the Colonel, as Kate and Hector both went red, basking in the praise, and yet embarrassed by the attention.
‘There’s been another attack?’ asked Dad.
Colonel Bertrand explained what had happened on the tank range. Mum listened in open-mouthed horror as the Colonel described events. Again, Kate was surprised by how much Colonel Bertrand knew. The Colonel again lavished praise on Hector and Kate, and it was then that Dad really spoke for the first time.
‘What the hell were they doing in a tank?’ he shouted, staring straight at Colonel Bertrand.
The Colonel took a deep breath and explained that it was a treat to distract them, that he had incidentally been ordered to do this, but also that a tank was normally a very safe place to be.
‘Not on a bloody battlefield it isn’t!’ Dad shouted, continuing to stare aggressively at the Colonel, ‘You were supposed to be protecting them, not asking them to man the guns because everyone else was off cooking and cleaning.’
The Colonel paused again, and then started to explain that he could understand that it had been a horrible time, and that Dad was worried and angry. However, he had to appreciate that there had never been a case of anyone stealing old tanks and attacking an army firing range before.
‘I don’t give a damn about your weak excuses,’ Dad yelled, picking up a cream cake from the table and throwing it at the Colonel.
‘Dad!’ exclaimed Kate.
‘Trevor!’ pleaded Mum.
Thick dollops of cream splattered the Colonel’s otherwise immaculate uniform. Hector could see Andrè and Pierre trying to conceal their grins.
Colonel Bertrand had obviously decided to take another pause and a much deeper breath. He looked down at his uniform and flicked a blob of cream away. Unfortunately, the blob jetted through the air and landed on Dad’s arm.
Dad flew to the counter and picked up two more cakes and hurled them at the Colonel. The Colonel’s temper had finally snapped, and while muttering something in French, he hurled one of them back.
Mum and Kate were looking on in horror, but Hector was suddenly back in his element. He had missed the food fight at school between two of his friends just by accident, but now was a chance to make up for that big style.
Hector darted for some cakes and began to hurl them at Andrè and Pierre, hoping to get them into the fight. Dad and the Colonel were throwing food at each other, but they both really meant it, as if this was the only way they could avoid getting that little bit closer and throwing punches.
To Hector’s disappointment neither Andrè nor Pierre retaliated. Some of the other soldiers, who took some pretty impressive direct hits with parts of a baguette and some pastry nibbles, looked like they were considering it, but Hector noticed a warning raised eyebrow from Pierre and all resistance faded.
It was Chatterton who eventually intervened, pleading for peace and common sense.
‘All of you have had the most extraordinary and stressful time. No one has died. I think we need a break.’
‘How can anyone die, we’re only throwing food,’ said Hector, with his usual spectacular bad timing. There was silence as everyone looked at Hector, and it felt very different to when the Colonel was praising him.
Pierre then intervened, explaining that the zoo would be a good place to be together as a family, and suggested they cleaned themselves up. The cafe owner was just appearing with paper rolls, looking angry and muttering about payment in broken English.
‘Will we be safe?’ was the only thing Dad managed to say.
‘I don’t believe you are safe anywhere,’ said Pierre, ‘but a false trail is being laid back to the camp and that will help. Several of us will guard you.’
‘Do you have experience of this?’ Dad asked, his face stern.
‘We will do our best, and yes we have experience,’ said Andrè, ‘My colleague here just destroyed a tank with a shoulder launched missile while under fire from a machine gun, so our best is, how you say, not bad.’
There was a pause before Dad seemed to sag.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I should be grateful. I seem to get cross very easily.’
Colonel Bertrand said nothing, but walked out past Dad, while laying a hand on his shoulder.
‘He has had quite a tough time too,’ Pierre said once the Colonel had gone.
As they made their arrangements to leave Hector noticed that Andrè had several pictures of the aftermath of the food fight on his mobile phone. Even Hector appreciated that they would soon be distributed around the camp.
Hector and Kate had little problem crawling through the armoured car and out the other side into the small Citroen hidden from view. Dad and Mum found this a surprising and cramped introduction to Hector’s and Kate’s new world.
Worse was to follow. As soon as they were in the car a small old man got into the driving seat and explained using grunts and rapidly spoken French that they should all get down and cover themselves with blankets. There was a smell to the car, and Kate wondered if it was more commonly used for moving goats or other small livestock.
The car took several attempts to start, and sounded more like a large lawn mower than a normal vehicle. It lurched forward, and the bumpy trip to the zoo began. Nothing could be seen, but the old man’s driving seemed erratic and at times alarming.
It was strange that their family reunion should continue in a moving car under the blankets, with the smell of petrol and goats. The sound of the road rushing just inches below poured through a couple of rusting holes in the bare metal floor.
‘Trevor, I know you think they have not done well, but I couldn’t believe it when you started a fight,’ said Mum, in a tired tone.
‘I didn’t start a fight, I just threw a cake,’ explained Dad.
‘And
