The car nicely washed, she went to open the door. Locked. Tried the other doors. Locked. Boot? Locked*. Her keys? In her handbag. In the car. A slight panic. Her mum was due to arrive on the train fairly soon; how would Rachael get to the station to pick her up? Oh, and Ainsworth was locked in the car.
She ran over to the kiosk and explained. They recommended calling the police to break in, and one of them phoned while Rachael went back to the car to check on Ainsworth. Another member of staff accompanied her, and asked whether he was old enough to open the door from inside. Surely not, she thought. But worth a try.
She smiled at him, and called through the window: "pull the handle for Mummy". He reached over and pulled on the big handle - the one you'd use to pull the door closed. "Try the little shiny handle." And to her amazement and delight he reached round a bit further, pulled the handle, and the door swung open.
He's not two until March.
* At first she assumed the car had locked itself (it does do all sorts of things automatically) but talking it through later it dawned on us that Ainsworth had probably pressed the central locking button whilst playing.