It couldn't happen now.

I lived in a small community as a child and our primary school was was around 5 miles away. Hardly anyone had a car in the mid 1950's (Dad had a motorbike and side car) and we used to go to school in a taxi. I am not sure what make of car it was but it was likely to have been a Ford Zephyr or similar.

I appreciate many children go to school by Taxi now but, the big difference for us was the fact that eight of us squeezed into the vehicle. It was usually two or three in the front seat next to the driver and the rest in the back. It meant that four kids got to sit down and the others stood in front of them, other than when the car jerked forward and we were thrown backwards. There was no such thing as a seat belt.

I started school in 1956 and in early 1957, on our way home, the taxi skidded in snow and we ran into a wagon coming the other way. The taxi crumpled as did all the kids. I just banged my head on the windscreen but injuries ranged from black eyes to cuts and missing teeth. There were, of course, no phones and, as we were on a back road, no telephone box. It wasn't long before, as we shivered at the side of the blocked road, other cars came along.

If the overcrowding doesn't sound bad enough the next bit will astound. The taxi driver asked the passing motorists, complete strangers, to take us home. So, off we went, in a strange car, with a man we had never met.

I wasn't murdered, as you have no doubt gathered, and I cannot remember being abused on the way home. To my knowledge there was no court case and the damage was probably settled by the insurance Companies. There was no outcry in the press and no claims for compensation.

Was it dangerous? Yes it was. Do I miss the more trusting simpler times? Yes I do.

I spent a week with the mother in law one evening.

I still shudder when I recall the incident. My mother in law has no sense of humour. None whatsoever. She says this herself so I am not being unkind. Some 15 years ago it then came as some surprise when she advised my wife that she had booked four tickets for us all to go to see a comedian I hadn't heard of before at the local Halifax theatre.

She had apparently seen him on a matinee performance on a trip to Blackpool a few weeks earlier and had found him "hilarious"

I had no idea what to expect. She had no sense of humour and had seem him at a kids matinee. Was it Coco the clown or Ali Bongo? Jan told me his name but it meant nothing. We had no internet then and I doubted he would have a website anyway. I knew a long night ensued.

The theatre was packed. I read the posters and he seemed a cheeky chappie with short blonde hair. The fact that it was a sell out was promising and most of the audience was younger than us, though there were no children present. I hadn't noticed that the poster read "An adult evening with........" My father and mother in law were suitably dressed, her in a dress and coat and he wore his usual immaculate suit with collar and tie. They looked somewhat out of place.

The lights dimmed, the music played and onto the stage bounced the comedian to rapturous applause. He opened his mouth:

" I was out last night with my girlfriend and I said to her, bloody hell love your fanny doesn't half stink"

I froze. Jan froze. Morris froze. Sylvia's face froze. When I dared to look, she stared blankly ahead as if she was in a trance. Not a muscle twitched. Morris gave me a nervous sideways glance.

There followed almost two hours of superb joke telling that I dare not laugh at. It was excruciating. Now and again I stole a sideways look. Nothing other than a mask. Jan occasionally put her head in her hands as every sexual joke ever written was told.

Outside the theatre the only words spoken by Sylvia were "Well, he wasn't like that in Blackpool"

I have since seen the superb Billy Pearce twice on tour and twice in his superb record breaking panto performances. Just don't take your mother in law with you.