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popped it into her handbag. The elderly couple removed their gas masks and grinned at each other. They’d not had this much fun for seventy years.
    Now for the difficult bit. Harold led Hilda by the elbow and they waddled down the corridor. They stood at the security door and waited. They knew the camera would be focused on them and that questions would be asked as to why the guard wasn’t with them. The woman on reception did think it was unusual, but she knew their story. The old couple, dressed in black, had come straight from a funeral. She thought about her own grandparents, much younger than this frail couple …
    It seemed like an age before the door buzzed and Harold pushed it open with his walking stick. They waved to the lady on reception and
inched their way into the cold evening air. Hilda’s heart was racing. She was sure she’d need her pills when she got home. If she got home! She climbed aboard her mobility scooter, waiting patiently for her accomplice to board his getaway vehicle.
    Inside the bank the vault door had been opened and the security guard discovered, sleeping like a baby. The alarm sounded and people started rushing around. Outside, Hilda’s hearing aid picked up the sound of police sirens drifting through the streets. Her heart rate quickened to dangerous levels. Dozens of cars were descending on them in a high-speed chase. Hilda led the getaway, Harold in her slipstream. Maximum speed was 4 mph, but that was fast enough for the jet-black mobility scooters to melt into the darkness of the streets.

8. A Plan, of Sorts
    The family watched as Professor Cortex paced round the garden, his mobile stuck to his ear. He was wagging his finger at whoever was on the other end and kept shaking his head violently.
    ‘Agent P said it was the primed minister,’ said Ollie. ‘Whoever it is, it sure looks serious.’
    ‘He’s coming,’ hissed Sophie as the white-coated scientist marched up the path towards the back door.
    ‘Righty-ho,’ announced the professor, bursting through the door. ‘There’s some serious stuff happening and the PM wants me to sort it out. I’ve made some arrangements and have got a fantastic opportunity for the family. Mrs Cook,’ he said, his smile not entirely
convincing, ‘how do you fancy a luxury river cruise?’ He waited for the information to sink in. ‘On the Thames. In London!’
    Star and Spud’s wags intensified.
Life on the river sounds good!
    Mrs Cook looked a little flustered, her hand patting her chest in excitement. ‘Oooh, Professor, or should I say Maximus,’ she swooned. ‘We’ve always wanted to go on a cruise. Haven’t we, darling?’ she said, fluttering her eyelashes at her husband.
    ‘Yes,
you
have,’ he reminded her. ‘But cruises are just full of old people. I’m not sure it’s really our thing.’
    ‘Oh, you’re so out of date, Mr Cook,’ scolded the professor. ‘And besides this wouldn’t be just any old cruise. It’d be aboard the
TriTanic
, the most luxurious boat in the world.’
    ‘Cool,’ cooed Ben. ‘I’ve read about it. It’s brilliant, Dad. It’s usually moored in Monte Carlo. And the prof’s right. It’s not for old people at all. The
Tri
’s got a restaurant and even an amusement arcade.’
    ‘Amusement arcade!’ Ollie pretended to faint, falling on to the sofa in excitement.
    Spud had stopped listening at the ‘restaurant’ bit, already planning his meals.
If it’s all inclusive
, he thought,
I can have a full English, mid-morning muffins, then lunch and afternoon tea. Then there’d be a little bit of room for an evening meal and late-night supper too! Ooh, and I could sneak some cheese back to my room for a midnight snackeroony
.
    Dad was floundering a bit. It seemed OK, but he wasn’t convinced he was the cruising type. ‘Sounds expensive,’ he said. ‘I doubt we could afford it, especially if it’s the most luxurious river cruiser in the world.’
    ‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ assured