It was a wild place. Peter and his wife and his three children were exposed to a furious wind and driving rain. Down below, the sea boiled over the rocks, and above them crouched the huge black shape of the Crag. The wind tore at Peter’s coat and blew his usually immaculate hair over his eyes. There was a sudden clap of thunder and a white flash of lightening directly over their heads. A real storm had begun and Joe, suddenly cold and frightened, began to cry. Peter turned and went back to the car. He lifted Joe in, got in himself and started the engine. Then he put the car into gear and let in the clutch. Nothing happened. The wheels span in the mud and the engine roared, but the car wouldn’t move either forward or backward.