May Contain Nuts [antikvár]

I used to be such a cautious woman. David said I was the only person he knew who read the Microsoft License Agreement all the way through before clicking on 'I accept'. And yet there I was about to make a bold stand on behalf of mothers everywhere. For ten minutes I had been crouching behind a parked white van, waiting for the right moment to shove a little boy out into the path of a speeding car. It had to be done; you have to teach them a lesson. Obviously it wasn't a real child, I'm not some kind of nutcase. It was a model boy on the end of a long stick.We lived on a long straight road in south London, and young men in throbbing cars regularly tore past at two hundred and fifty miles an hour. At least, I presumed they were young men. It was hard to tell through those tinted windows; maybe when I screamed 'Slow down!' that was an elderly nun who always stuck a single digit out of the car window.I had fantasized about pulling a chain of tyre-piercing steel spikes across the road, or having David dress as a policeman to stop them, confiscate their car keys and ask them if they felt