Ravensdale (Rewriting)

Chapter Five- The Gala

Oxfordshire, England

Dora could not believe that she managed to convince her dad and David to come with her to England. She was especially surprised that David agreed to come back to England, after just having come back to the states. He said it wasn't a big deal, but she felt bad for some reason. There was something different about him. In his mannerisms, the second that they arrived in England. She should not have convinced him to come with her, but after having the phone conversation with Tilly, she knew it was going to be fun to go to the gala for the Titanic Society.

The time on her phone read five-thirty PM. The gala was for seven-thirty. She reluctantly looked down at her outfit. She was grunge incarnate and even her hair smelled like airplane and the cheap rum that spilled all over the place when the plane got to a bit of turbulence.

And why, out of all the hire cars, did her father have to choose a subcompact? The trip up the congested, road work filled M40 was longer, and more uncomfortable than she expected it to be. David sat huddled next to her, trying to get himself comfortable with his long legs.

"I'm pretty sure we've made it to Oxford. We're almost -" Her father touched the GPS on the screen, which led him to a blown up map. "We're on a one-lane road. How do people even drive on these roads?"

"Dad, we live in New York. You should be used to tight roads by now. David, do you have any idea where we are right now?"

"I'm not sure, really. The last time I came to Ravensdale was a really long time ago. Like when my mom was still alive. Sorry, Dora. No help here."

"Dad, really. Just look at the GPS, it'll help you out. Can't you just zoom out of the map?"

"Yeah, but it's not gonna help. Not when you're in the middle of nowhere and you can't find where you're supposed to go. Wait, this stupid piece of junk brought us all the way out here? Where the hell are we? We're supposed to be somewhat parallel to the M40." Nick groaned as he ran a quick hand through his hair.

Dora stopped. "Don't tell me we're lost."

"We're not lost. I have the destination marked!"

You probably did something wrong. Probably touched the wrong location.

"This is so like you, Dad. You're always getting us lost."

Her father gave Dora the side-eye and tight lips.

"We're lost," David said. "Just admit it, Mr. Harding. We're completely lost. I can't even begin to describe what's around us. Holy -"

She looked ahead, and there, with jaws of death, was a gargantuan combine harvester coming at them, no sign of stopping. Its loud horn was like trumpets of doom as all of them stared at the behemoth with wide eyes.

"Dad." Dora froze in her seat.

"Ah!" Her father was screaming. "What do I do? What do I do?"

She grabbed the car door handle and couldn't say a single word. Her life flashed before her eyes, as if watching a slow motion movie. Seconds seemed to become minutes. Goodbye, dear sweet life.

She closed her eyes, the music on the radio slowly fading away. When she opened her eyes, everything had stilled. Where were they now? After everything processed, she realized that her father had made it into a grass bank on the side of the road.

"Dad," Dora said, her voice low and hushed. "You could have gotten us killed!"

He sat there in silence, looking straight ahead as he breathed deeply. It was worrisome to Dora that he would be so quiet. She turned, looking at David to see his reaction.