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Everyone agreed that whatever had crashed into Atlantic had been huge.
‘So, it wasn’t a car then?’ asked Ravi, stuffing a Jaffa cake into his mouth.
‘Nope,’ said Blake excitedly, ‘Look!’
Ravi rolled his eyes, and peered at the headline. ‘Minister admits Cornish mystery crash could be ‘Alien in origin.’
Ravi had to admit that it was exciting. Up until now, nothing ever happened in Fowey in October. All week, the harbour had buzzed with police, TV people, sightseers and some serious looking grey haired people who, according to Blake who knew everything, were the ‘Specialist Government Recovery Team.’ The other good thing about the mystery crash practically happening on Blake’s doorstep (the family lived about two hundred metres from the alleged crash site), was that they were on half term. Fourteen minutes after it had appeared on the TV news, Blake and Ravi had had made a flask of hot chocolate, pinched some pork pie (the type that has the hardboiled egg through the middle) and some jaffa cakes from the pantry, and went to sit on the beach with everyone else.
The boys were allowed to stay and watch at night too, which was particularly exciting. The spot lights made the Atlantic glow with a sickly green light, making it easy to believe in aliens and what they were doing in the sea (if they had survived the crash of course.)
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