WHY is it that when you get behind the wheel all manners fly out of the window?

I’m talking road rage. As soon as you’re in charge of a moving object you seem to lose all respect for other road users and do things you’d never dare do without the protection of a car. On my way in to Kendal the other day I got caught in the crossfire.

Before it happened I had already been witness to a disturbing scene in the car behind me. The driver, a young mum, was sat cigarette in mouth while a child on the passenger seat next to her - who could not have been more than five years-old - was holding out a lighter for her.

Now I’ve never smoked and, being of soft thumb, I struggle operating lighters but this little boy flicked up a flame expertly and within moments she was puffing away, the car filling with smoke.

I was disgusted.

Next thing we were at the traffic lights on Milnthorpe Road, in the left lane waiting to drive forwads into town. The car at the front of the queue had clearly gone in the wrong lane so as the lights turned to green it remained in situ, indicating right, the driver no doubt feeling embarrassed that they were holding the traffic up.

The 4x4 infront of me revved its engine, mounted the kerb and drove around it on the pavement, leaving me next in line.

I didn’t follow suit, thinking my new tyres might not appreciate it - as well as the parents and children using the footpath to get to school. Insetad, I sat waiting, thinking the car infront would appreciate my patience.

‘Cigarette mom’ behind me started pipping her horn. I looked in my mirror and was greeted by some exaggerated pointing at the pavement and the mouthing of what I took to be unpleasantries.

I followed her lead and performed an exaggerated folding of the arms (I don’t know why - I realise now she couldn’t see my arms), looked defiantly in the mirror so I could make eye contact and shook my head as I mouthed ‘no’ several times.

She started gesturing more wildly, her cigarrette threatening to drop from her lip as she shouts. Little boy joins in.

I narrow my eyes as women do when they get cross and mouth a very firm ‘no’, resuming my slow head-shaking while she hits the horn, long and loud. pppaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrpppp. Unfortunately, when you are in a car it is hard to distinguish where such a sound is coming from and I can only deduce from the actions of the woman in front that she had heard the annoyed sound, looked in her mirror and seen me, arms folded, eyes narrowed, mouthing ‘no’ while shaking my head.

I felt myself shrinking in my seat - not easy when you drive a little Fiat 500 and fill nearly all the car.

She twists in her seat so she’s facing me and says something indistinguishable. Someone in the passenger seat does the same.

I’m caught in the middle of two angry motorists, quite inncoent, and the lights are simply refusing to turn to green.