for Mum was wearing gloves and I thought I shouldn’t. I waved goodbye to Mum as the car accelerated away, and the engine purred as it glided over the damp, shiny tarmac, but she didn’t see me.There was a faint smell of exhaust that lingered on the night air. I followed my Dad back inside and finished my dinner. I’m so proud of my Mum. She is so important and she helps so many people. She gets recognised in the street sometimes and people come and shake her hand and talk to her with adoration. Sometimes people tell me I am very lucky to have such a compassionate mother. They say that I should be very proud of her. I remember the time I was most proud. I went with Dad to one of her galas. Dad and I were sitting at a big round table with lots of other guests. I recognised some of them. One or two had come to our house to have meetings with Mum and they talked politely with Dad. I knew some of the faces from the telly. Opposite me was a podgy chat show host and next to him was a singer with funny hair and strange makeup. I was impressed that Mum had got so many people to come to her party. Mum was sat on one of the tables for the speakers. She was sitting with ambassadors for the charity. There was a footballer with a silly ponytail and an old newsreader wearing a brown suit. I was so proud of Mum - she knew so many celebrities. She was laughing at something the newsreader said. She looked up and I waved at her, but she looked away quickly. I think she wanted to pay attention to the stars, and I was distracting her. The room was dark and tall, and the floor was filled with big round tables.There were twelve people at each, and each seat had a little name tag. My card said I was Mum’s guest, and so did Dad’s. Most of the place settings had proper names on though. The meal was delicious, and the speakers were good too. The comedian who swam the channel was there, and his jokes were very funny, but none of them were very rude. There were lots of
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