Car Trouble

It’s time for a change in this delightful short story by Wendy Clarke.

There was no escaping the fact that the family car was no longer fit for purpose ...

IS it time, do you think?” Rebecca stood, hands on hips, looking at the dark blue people carrier sitting on the driveway. It had been parked there every day of the 15 years they’d lived here in Harwood Close, and before that, in the cul-de-sac where they used to live.

Her husband, Steven, walked round to the back of the car.

“I reckon it might be.” He came back to her and she put her head on his shoulder.

“Martha’s had a good innings, but we can’t put it off any longer,” she said. “She’s no longer reliable, and bits are dropping off.”

“Comes to us all!” Steven laughed. “Is it worth advertising her in the paper or online, do you think?” Rebecca frowned.

“And have people pour over her credentials like on a dating site? Comparing her engine size and her mileage to others?”

“She’s a car, Rebecca. If we want to sell her, we must advertise. We won’t get much – probably end up selling her for scrap.” Rebecca gasped.

“Wash your mouth out. I won’t have you saying the ‘s’ word in front of her. I’ll make a sign and put it in the front windscreen. That way, passers-by will know she’s for sale.”

“Good idea. But before we do that, we need to have a think about what we’d like to get to replace her. We could try Robert’s place. See if he’s got anything suitable.”

Their son worked in a car showroom two hours from where they lived. Rebecca had only been there once, but she remembered the forecourt where the manufacturer’s high-end models were parked, and behind them, the rows of second-hand cars waiting to find the right owner.

Her thoughts turned to the little boy who had played with his cars in the hallway of their old house, racing them up and down the parquet flooring, leaving rubber marks on the wood and chipping paint from the skirting.

“Good idea,” she said. “I’ll give him a ring.”

She had finished the For Sale sign when her daughter turned up.

“I had a client in the area,” Tanya said. “We finished early and I thought I’d pop in to see you.” “That’s great!”

Tanya had a demanding job and a busy life.

She peered over Rebecca’s shoulder.

“What are you doing?” “We’ve decided it’s time to let Martha go and get something newer.”

“Really?”

“It’s not before time. Remember how embarrassed you were, that time I picked you up from school with an exhaust tied on with string? You insisted on walking home after that!

“You said it was because you wanted to spend more time with your friends, but I knew better.”

Rebecca pushed the advert towards her daughter.

“Know anyone who wants a clapped-out car with ninety thousand miles on the clock and a dubious previous owner? Actually, didn’t you say your flatmate’s selling her car?”

“Leah, yes. She’s got a company car now and doesn’t need it.”

“Has she found a buyer?” Tanya hesitated.

“I don’t think so.”

“What do you reckon? Think it might be suitable for us?” Rebecca wanted something smaller and easier to park. More importantly, she wanted something that had been made in this decade!

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“It would be too small.” “Too small?” She peered out through the window at Martha. “It’s only me and your dad here now. How much space do we need?” Tanya shrugged.

“I just think that, after what you’ve been used to, you’d find Leah’s car a bit cramped. Anyway, I’m pretty sure she said there’s someone coming round to look at it later today.”

“In that case we’ll have to wait and see what Rob comes up with. We’re driving over to the showroom tomorrow. It’s a bit of a trek but it’s a good excuse to see him.”

Rebecca hesitated, realising how bad her words sounded. The family shouldn’t need an excuse to see each other but, like Tanya, her son had moved on with his life.

With his job and his new girlfriend, it was hard to imagine him giving the old family home more than a passing thought.

“Don’t let him schmooze you into buying a sports car or something equally ridiculous.”

Rebecca smiled.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t dream of it.”

To be honest, she rather liked the idea of something open-topped. The wind blowing through her hair; Steven in an open-necked shirt with his sleeves rolled up, his forearms brown from the sun.

Tanya worried at her necklace.

“Maybe I should come with you, just in case. Make sure Rob doesn’t try any wheeler-dealing on you.”

“Tanya, we’re buying a car, not a house! I’m sure your dad and I can decide – even with your brother whispering ‘Buy the Porsche!’ in our ear.”

“I’ll come anyway. Let me know when.”

* * * *

Robert got up from his desk and edged his way between a stand of leaflets and a black car with a long bonnet to greet Rebecca. “Good to see you, Mum.” “You, too, Rob. It’s been a while.” She hugged him tight, realising how much she missed him. “Sorry Dad couldn’t make it, but he didn’t want to give you both his cold.”

“I came instead,” Tanya said, picking up a brochure and putting it down again. “Someone’s got to make sure Mum doesn’t go home with something unsuitable.”

“As if.” Robert tapped his pen against his chin. “So you’re thinking of getting a replacement for Martha?”

“We have been for a while,” Rebecca said.

“I see.” Robert glanced out of the showroom window at the rather shabby people carrier parked on the forecourt.

As he did, Rebecca took in his smart striped shirt, his navy tie and the highly polished shoes.

He’d changed a lot from the little boy who liked to play football in the garden, coming in with grubby knees and an even grubbier T-shirt.

Robert turned back to her.

“What were you looking for?”

His words were clearly the same ones he used when dealing with all his customers, and the thought made Rebecca sad.

To stop him seeing the tears in her eyes, she walked over to the large window and pretended to study the cars outside.

“Something small and reliable.”

Going back behind the desk, Robert turned to his computer and scrolled down a few pages.

“Sorry, there’s nothing.” “What do you mean nothing? You have a whole forecourt full of cars. There has to be something here that I could look at.”

Robert’s eyes were fixed on the screen.

“Nothing suitable.”

The wide glass doors slid open as Rebecca moved towards them, revealing the lines of vehicles.

“How about we have a look, anyway?”

“If you like.” He followed her outside. “These are our new models.”

He didn’t sound very enthusiastic and Rebecca wondered how he ever managed to sell anything.

She could see him eyeing Martha, who looked rather woeful parked next to a smart red Peugeot.

“I like the look of this one.” She stopped at the sporty-looking red car. Tanya read the price tag. “It isn’t in your price range, Mum.”

“You don’t know what my price range is . . .”

But Tanya had already left her and was following Robert. With a sigh, Rebecca joined them.

“What about this one?” Rebecca pointed to a smart little blue car. Through the side window she saw that it had a decent mileage. Robert shook his head.

“If I’m honest, the last owner said it was a very bumpy ride. Suspension’s too hard, apparently.” “I see.”

A white car had a Daily Deal sticker on it.

“What about that one?” Tanya groaned.

“Everyone knows that you shouldn’t buy a white car, Mum. It will look permanently dirty.”

“Your car’s white.”

“That’s different.”

“I can’t see why!”

She glanced at Robert. “I have to take it to the car wash all the time.”

“That looks nice.” Rebecca pointed to a silver car with a black stripe. Tanya pulled a face.

“That one, then? It’s a decent price and, according to the sign, has only had one previous owner.”

“A smoker.” Robert shrugged. “Smell gets into the seat covers. Impossible to get rid of.”

Rebecca stared at her children. She was reminded of the united front they’d put on when they were children in the face of something they disliked. She narrowed her eyes. “Well, this car here isn’t white, or silver with a go-faster stripe, or rainbow-coloured. It’s black. Let me guess – I shouldn’t buy it because it won’t show up in the dark.

“Come on, kids, what’s going on?”

Tanya looked at the ground and shuffled her feet and Robert seemed to be particularly interested in the pen he was holding.

“If I knew better,” she continued, “I’d say it was because you’d clubbed together and bought me a new car for my birthday, but that’s pretty unlikely.

“Are you going to tell me? If you don’t, we’ll have to drive around in Martha for ever. You don’t want that, do you?”

There was silence and the truth started to dawn.

“That’s it, isn’t it? It’s Martha. You don’t want us to get rid of her!” Tanya sighed.

“She’s been with us all our lives, Mum. We’ve never had another car.”

“But you were embarrassed by her! You wanted to walk home from school.”

“No, Mum. It really was because I wanted to walk with my friends. It had nothing to do with

Martha.”

Robert stopped clicking his pen. For a moment he looked like the little boy who had loved cars.

“When I think of Martha I think of the camping trips we used to go on, with all our stuff in the back. Or when a whole load of my mates would pile in and you’d drive us to football or the cinema.”

“And what about when you decorated her with pink ribbons, Mum, and drove me and Leah to the school prom? I like to remember those times,” Tanya said.

Robert rubbed his chin. “I do, too. Leaving home was a bit of a big deal. The memories of our family outings with Martha helped me when I was homesick.”

“Oh, darling!” Rebecca put her hand on her son’s arm, her heart contracting. “You never said.”

Robert shrugged, looking embarrassed.

“Well, it was in the early days. I’m fine now.”

“I was a bit like that when I went to uni,” Tanya said. “Even though I loved it, I couldn’t wait to get back home for the summer, knowing you’d have arranged some mad outing in Martha.”

“Looks like the old girl’s done a good job in bringing us all back together. But we have to be realistic. Things can’t stay the same for ever. Look at you both – all grown up and independent.

“Even when she’s gone, we’ll still have our memories of Martha and the happy years she’s given us. Just as I have my memories of you two, even though you don’t live at home any more. That will never change. You know that, don’t you.”

“Of course I do.” Her son’s big arms were around her and she felt the crispness of his cotton shirt and smelled the tang of his aftershave.

Tanya smiled.

“I do, too. We’ll come over for a last family photo with Martha and we can all have a copy.”

“Great idea,” Robert said. “In the meantime, there’s a rather lovely Porsche I think you should take a look at, Mum.”

He winked at his sister and they all laughed.

The End.

No matter how hard this was, they needed to be realistic