"Outside then," said Reginald, "And put some good bike gear on me too!"

Shamus looked at me curiously.

"You're not interested in sharing this wish are you?" he asked.

"Might as well," I said, "As long as I don't get into any trouble!"

"Now that's something I can't guarantee," said Shamus, waving his arms over his head again, "You'll just have to take your chances!"

Instantly I was out of my room and sitting on the back of a motorbike. I was still in my pajamas, but Reginald had on a leather jacket and stream-lined helmet. I hung on to the grips by my legs as Reginald powered the bike down our front drive and out onto the road.

"Man!" he shouted, "This is cool!"

"Are you sure you can handle this thing?" I called.

"Piece of cake!" he shouted back, "I can ride Dad's bike – this one has a lot more power though! Let's see what this baby can do!"

The machine leapt forwards, powering down the dark road like a rocket. The chain sang, the wind roared in my ears, and the cold night air stung my face. I hung on with all my strength as Reginald pushed the engine to its limit on the straight, then he roared through several sharp bends. We leaned over so far my knee nearly scraped on the road!

Reginald hooted with excitement. I shivered behind him. He shot down the road at blinding speed. I shut my eyes and prayed for help.

After about ten minutes, a police car started to follow us. It turned on its light and caught up. The man signalled to us to stop. Reginald made a rude gesture at him and speeded up. The police car chased us for a few miles, falling further and further behind, until the motorbike coughed.

"Out of petrol!" yelled Reginald.

I was relieved. At least we were both still alive.

The bike ran erratically for another mile then it died and rolled silently to a stop. The police car pulled up beside us and the man got out.

"Names?" he said, writing the number-plate on his pad.

My teeth were chattering.

"I wish we were home again!" I said.