I knew exactly what I fancied to eat.
‘Let’s get Macca’s,’ I said to my friends Bob* and Kenny*.
I was 19 and my mum Sue, then 46, and dad, Raymond, 48, were away for the weekend. So I was enjoying a relaxing Sunday afternoon with friends on my day off from my pharmacy job.
Although McDonald’s wasn’t far, I volunteered to drive everyone in my beloved gold Ford Taurus.
‘Throw me my keys will you, Kenny,’ I called in the entry way.
‘Here you go,’ he said, tossing the heavy bundle
