One summer when three of us were still young, Dad took us, by himself, for our annual Centre Parcs holiday. The journey was made by train and involved various connections throughout the country. We reached York station and had a little time before our connection. I assume Michael and Christopher were at an age where they could wander round Wh Smith unsupervised and were under strict instructions to be back in time for our train. So Dad was left with me and enough luggage for three kids to last a week. As our next train departure drew closer, I decided I needed the toilet and couldn't possibly wait until we got on the train. So Dad rushed me off to the toilet, then realised time was running out and we quickly found the boys and made our way to the train. Problem was that Dad had left the luggage unattended for a good 15 minutes and by the time we returned, there was some frantic rail staff and police getting ready to evacuate York station. Might I add that this was around the time that the IRA were bombing places so the country was on high alert. As Dad swooped in and grabbed the luggage, he was giving a bit of a bollocking as we ran towards the train and he didn't look back.