Knight Of The Road

The man in the orange van came to her rescue… oh, and he also fixed her car!

Coffee Break Tale

Ido like a man in uniform. I really go for navy ribbed sweaters with shoulder tabs. And that cheery Knight of the Road manner when you’re in trouble… “Here we are, love, what’s the problem? You go and sit in my van and relax while I sort this out.”

I’ve an old Astra and one of the good things about it is that it’s impossible to lock the keys inside. Except that it’s not – I found a way.

Running late one afternoon, I leaped out the second I arrived and grabbed my shoulder bag. Holding the door handle open, I slammed it and rushed off.

Meeting over, I strode back to the car, feeling in my pocket for the keys. Not there, so I tried the other. Empty. I checked my bag, tipped it out on the bonnet. Those keys had to be somewhere, but could I find them? Assorted items scooped back, I tried the door again, just in case it had been unlocked all along.

Then I saw my keys, glinting playfully in the afternoon sunlight as they dangled from the ignition. Panic!

I called my rescue service and my Knight arrived in twenty minutes, not in armour on a white charger, but uniformed, in an orange van.

“Somehow,” I said, “my keys seem to have got locked inside.”

With a professional smile he went for his tool box.

“You’re not the first,” he said, skilfully sliding a plastic strip between window frame and glass. He opened the door with a Heypresto! sort of flourish.

“Thanks so much,” I said. “Maybe I’ll keep some of that plastic strip in the car in case this happens again!” I laughed to show it was a joke but he just gave me a peculiar look and turned away.

“Except that I won’t be doing it again, will I?” I called.

Idid it again the very next day – same town, but at least in a different street. And it was the same service that responded once I could face summoning help. Well, what did I pay them for?

It was the same man too, in his loud orange van. He stared through my window and said, “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”

I said nothing as he handed me my keys a moment later.

“Well, you don’t do this three times, do you?” He winked, got into his lurid orange van and drove off.

Awhole week went by before I did it again. On the main road. Sometimes you’re so determined not to do something that you actually do it.

As the man with the glorious orange van did the necessary, a car pulled up and out stepped my younger brother.

“Spotted your Astra,” he said. “What’s up?”

I knew I’d never hear the end of it if I told him – he’d tell absolutely everybody. I looked entreatingly at my Knight, who muttered, “Minor hitch, sorted now.” My brother said, “OK,” and left. Relieved, as my Knight returned to his dazzling orange van, I said, “I won’t be doing that again, will I?”

Igot the call a week later. “Knights of the Road – just checking that you found our service satisfactory.”

It was a familiar voice. I felt stupid. Should I pretend I didn’t recognise him? He was a waiting for a response. “Oh – oh, yes. Thanks…” His tone changed and he actually became quite chatty.

“How are you? I’ve missed you,” he said. “Rescuing you was becoming quite a habit.” He was grinning – I could hear it in his voice. “I’ve been thinking,” he went on.

“I know it was accidental the first time, maybe even the second, but three times? So how about the fourth time this evening, at about seven? Somewhere near the Rose and Crown. I’m off duty at 7.30, so after I’ve rescued you, we could have a pub supper.” Well! How could I refuse? It was a lovely meal. Not only that, he talked me into a car maintenance course and to his amazement I came top.

As I said, I do like a man in uniform. But I also like this particular one casual every weekend when he’s off shift.