FURTHER ALONG THE WAY
‘At the garage the attendant couldn’t have been more helpful. He quickly had the bonnet up and was soon bent over, examining the engine. He must have been under there half an hour or so before he shouted out: “Yes, I’ve got it. No doubt about it.” Unfolding himself from under the bonnet he turned to us with a pleased look on his face. “I know what it is, young man.” “What is it, then?” I enquired.
“It’s a Morris Minor,” he beamed.
The car was dumped, the wife went home by train with the little money we had left, whilst I was left to work the old thumb again at the roadside. A disaster, you might think? No way! The wife hasn’t asked to come fishing with me again since that glorious holiday together.
Two years later I was passing the same Norfolk garage. There parked outside was the same Morris Minor. I went into the garage and explained that I was the bloke who left the Morris. “Oh yes, the Minor,” said the mechanic. “It will be ready on Tuesday.” ’
BELOW ‘The car was dumped, and the wife went home by train.’ On holiday in Norfolk with Sue