"No, this one's quite short!"
Claudia clears her throat.
"What did St. Patrick say when he was driving the snakes out of Ireland?"
But Simon has noticed someone by the side of the road.
"Hey! That's Old Tom!"
Simon slows the car down and you look out. A white-haired, gaunt old man stands among the trees by the side of the road, heedless of the rain. His face is as weatherbeaten as his clothes, his eyes foggy and distant.
"You don't see him around very much these days," says Claudia, abandoning her joke for now. "Mum calls him the last of the tramps. He used to pick fruit and help out around the farms for a few quid and a place to sleep. Give him a lift, Simon, it's pouring."
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