Zach awoke to the sound of somebody drilling next door; he imagined it was Eye-Patch Betty trying to get revenge for her supposedly murdered Nipplewort plants. And he must have spent a good ten minutes considering the idea before he looked at his alarm clock. He only had five minutes until it was time to wake, so he quickly disabled it and slung his duvet back.

As his mother had predicted, Zach had spent hours lying on his bed with his favourite book balanced on his chest. And yes, he must have read Star Hunter a thousand times, but that only meant that he knew and looked forward to what was coming. The downside was that he would have to face the day after having only four and a half hours of sleep.

As soon as he was dressed, he headed downstairs to find that his mother and father were ready and waiting for him in the living room.

Mrs Garrett pointed at the single plate. 'Scrambled eggs on toast.'

'Nice!' Zach yelled, sitting down.

Mr Garrett saw his son checking the time. 'Don't worry; we're getting a taxi to Flurbury's this morning.'

Zach struggled to hold back his excitement. There would be no aching legs for him this day, and avoiding Clifford would be an added blessing.

'How long do I have?'

Mrs Garrett laughed. 'Long enough to make your hair look pretty.'

Zach folded the toast in half until he created a warm, squelching sandwich. Then he wolfed it down, plainly ignoring the repulsed look on his mother's face.

'You'll get a bad belly, eating like that. Honestly, Stephen, he gets it from you. I'm raising a couple of pigs.'

Zach caught a clump of falling egg on his finger and quickly hoovered it with his mouth. 'What?'

She shook her head. 'Just drink your juice before you choke.'

Mr Garrett handed him the glass, and Zach gulped every last drop. Then the lad bolted upstairs to grab his hair wax from the bathroom cupboard.

With one scoop, Zach took too much and had to scrape his hand against the tub's edge. Then he vigorously raked his fingers across his scalp until the goopy substance covered every strand of hair.

Parting and scrubbing, flattening and messing, the lad began his morning hair ritual once more, and he was still at it when a vehicle screeched to a halt outside.

'Time to go!'

Zach fumed in the mirror, threw his half-sealed wax in the cupboard and ran, remembering only at the last second he needed his passport.

Fortunately, his bedroom desk was well-organised. There were red ring binders stacked along the top in alphabetical order. Each contained everything from identity documents to past job applications and old school homework he'd kept just in case.

So, Zach picked up the binder he wanted and yanked his passport from its pocket insert, but in haste, he'd not noticed the folded birth certificate stuck to the back. The yellowing paper almost disintegrated in his hand.

'Zach!'

The lad dropped the binder in a panic, and when it clipped the desk, its rings popped open to unleash a whirlwind of mess.

Dozens of plastic pockets lay sprawled across the floor, and all he could do was stare at them, helpless to do anything because the taxi driver was already beeping their horn.

Then they began pressing their foot on the accelerator every few seconds as if revving the car's engine would hurry the family up.

'What is with this guy? Zach, come down-'

'I'm here. I'm here.'

Mr Garrett grabbed his house keys from the bowl and ushered Zach outside so he could lock the door.

It appeared Mrs Garrett had sat in the taxi to ensure the driver didn't abandon them, and the bandana-wearing man seemed livid. He kept looking out of the closed window to find his other passengers, and every time he did, Zach saw him yell something inaudible.

It wasn't until the lad opened the rear driver's side car door that he could hear the man cursing.

'How many times do I have to say it? I'm in a hurry. For a pitiful fare like this, I shouldn't have even answered the call.'

Zach's eyes widened as he dove inside to fasten his seatbelt. Frankly, he was surprised to find someone outside Flurbury's Museum who lacked good customer service, but at least the new-car smell was a welcome distraction.

Mr Garret was the last to get in the car, but he didn't waste time. 'We're going to F-'

'I know where you're going! I know how to do my job!'

After the driver's outburst, there was an uncomfortable silence. Fortunately, the man drove faster than Zach's father, and while the world outside the windows became a blur, they were at the Gillybury Crossroads before they knew it.

The taxi wheels squeaked as the vehicle struck the roundabout's raised centre circle. And the driver of a double-decker bus had to slam on his brakes.

The all too close encounter only lasted a few seconds until it skidded past to safety. Still, during those hairraising moments, the bus had been so close to Zach's face that he'd made out the grime covering its windscreen.

Unlike the Garrett family, the taxi driver hadn't flinched at the near-miss. And he remained calm and collected when he rolled down the window to let his arm hang out. As if it somehow made him look cool.

Zach immediately regretted sitting behind the man. The blustering gale brought inside the toxic fumes of burning rubber, and he was struggling to breathe.

With no other options, he quickly unclipped the belt to slide across the seat. But by the time he'd secured himself again, they'd turned onto the pot-holed road that led to the museum entrance.

Mrs Garrett sighed with relief as she exited the vehicle, and Mr Garrett tried to offer a tip, only for the driver to frown.

'Surely you can do better than that?'

'Tell you what,' said Mr Garrett, stuffing the loose coins back in his pocket. 'When you learn some manners, I'll give you a tip.'

'You absolute piece of-'

Zach still had one leg caught in the taxi when the driver began to turn.

Mrs Garrett was waving frantically. 'Stop. Stop the car.'

Fortunately, the driver spotted the woman in his rearview mirror and tapped the brakes. Then he looked over his shoulder and saw Zach. 'Move it, or lose it, kid.'

Once the lad was clear of the vehicle, the driver took off, swerving from one side of the potholed road to the other.

Mr Garrett puffed out his cheeks when the car finally passed from sight. Then he smiled and offered Zach his hand. 'I don't think we'll be getting a taxi again.'

Zach took it and stood to brush the dirt from his knees. 'At least not one being driven by that maniac.'

'Tod Glarent, welcome back.'

The lad didn't need to turn around to know that the infamous Clifford Tick was waiting for him and his family. Yes, their family day out was off to a great start.