Overgrown bushes and trees scrape the sides of the car. As usual, Rose’s phone is in her hand. “Actually, Mum,” she says, “I’m going to turn it off for the holiday and have a complete digital detox.”

“What?” Mum’s so shocked she almost drives into Grandad’s birdbath. Rose loves her phone. She can get through a whole day without looking at me, but she looks at her phone about a thousand times.

Rose shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I watched this thing on YouTube about how bad phones are for your happiness so I thought I’d have a break.”

Mum stops the car and throws her arms around Rose. “I am so proud of you!”

Over Mum’s shoulder Rose catches my eye and grins. Then she says, “Maybe you should do the same, Mum. You and Dad are going to Scotland to get away from it all, so why not turn your phones off too? If there’s a problem Grandad can call your hotel.”

“If you can do it, then so can we,” says Mum, squeezing Rose even tighter. “My little girl is so wise!”

Cunning, more like, but I have to admire Rose’s quick thinking. We want to stay in Roar for the whole of half-term and now we don’t need to worry about Mum or Dad wanting to speak to us.

A bang makes me jump. Grandad’s sneaked out of his house and is now squishing his face against my window.

Mum is horrified. “Is he actually licking the glass?”

He is, and it’s hilarious. Rose and I jump out of the car and are immediately pulled into one of Grandad’s prickly hugs. Grandad’s not a big fan of shaving. Or trousers. Just like every other day of the year, he’s wearing shorts and sandals that show off his large gnarly toenails.

“Not long now,” he says, and for a moment the three of us are lost in the excitement of our shared secret.

Mum beeps the car horn. “Grab your bags, twins!”

We pull them out of the trunk. They’re full of clothes we won’t wear and books we won’t read, but we had to pack them so Mum and Dad didn’t get suspicious.

After Mum’s done an awkward six-point turn, she leans out of the window and fixes us with a stern look. “Make sure you don’t spend the week lounging around.”

I shake my head. “We’re not going to do any lounging, are we, Rose?”

“No way. We’re going to go swimming—”

“And cycling and . . . jogging!” I say.

For a moment Mum narrows her eyes suspiciously, then she says, “Fine, just don’t watch too much TV.”

Then, with a beep and a final wave, she drives away.

We all let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, she didn’t say anything about not riding dragons,” says Grandad.