The Volvo only went in to have a parking light changed but, of course, it ended up being taken to pieces.
Somehow, whilst fitting a bulb and then securing the exhaust pipe, which had come a bit loose, they found a leak from an indeterminate origin. It was probably the gearbox fluid, the mechanic explained. They would have to keep it in for a few days and send me a courtesy car.
A boy wearing an iPod turned up on my doorstep an hour later and nodded mutely towards a shiny new BMW coupé parked outside my house.
‘Oh no, I asked for a hatchback,’ I complained. ‘I need to be able to put the dog in it.’
‘No, is not this one,’ said the boy. ‘Is one before.’
‘One before’ was a strange, blue, bubble-shaped thing, of a design I had not seen since the first generation of vehicles adapted for wheelchairs, circa 1970.
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