XR3i Or Something&;#063;

And so I have to go about buying a car. My beloved van having
completely broken down in the howling gale and rain on Tuesday evening
on the A5199.

It just made some noises and stopped. I tried to pull it over properly
but it ended up skewed across onto the road sticking its rear end
dangerously out into the oncoming traffic. I have watched enough real
life programmes to fear both sitting in it and standing outside it. I
know too many murderers I guess. I tried not to think of someone
stopping and killing me. It was only 4.30 in the afternoon and most of
the people swishing past on the rain sodden road were parents in MPV's
taking their kids to or from somewhere.

Several people did stop to ask if I was OK. I pretended I was OK
despite being anxious and soaking wet and frozen and very near to
tears. I assured them with a cheery wave and told each of them I was
waiting for the AA. One person stopped in a small silver Fiesta and as
I tramped disconsolately up to the window to repeat my assurances to
avoid being murdered I realised it was my ex-husband. I was almost
pleased to see him which doesn't happen very often. He offered me a
brolly.

I have waited for too many AA patrols. (Apart from a brief defection to
the RAC prompted by the AA wishing to charge me more as I had had more
than my fair share of rescues.) There can't be any man more reassuring
and delightful to see than an AA man on a stormy night when one's van
is bust on a dangerous bend.

This one looked like Timothy Spall's younger less ugly brother. As
usual I wanted to kiss him as he turned up looking all useful and manly
in his great yellow coat. He parked his flashing vehicle and strode up
the verge towards me. I was the very picture of bedraggled feminine
neediness I feel sure. My lip almost wobbled as I told him what had
happened.

Once I did weep with one of them. He was the Counselling AA Man. As he
fiddled with the interior of my polo engine I laid the sorry tale of my
single parenthood on him. It was so he could take pity on me and tow me
home even though I wasn't covered for towing. He decided to give me a
lecture on never giving up on love as he tinkered. He told me how he
had bravely put a small ad in the Leicester Mercury and all the dates
he had been on. He was trying to be encouraging I think. He towed me
anyway and as he uncoupled his van he made me promise I would never
give up.

Tuesday's AA man said nothing of the sort. He peered at my engine and
pronounced it "seized" then cobbled me onto the back of his rescue
wagon and towed me home. He used the words "serious" and
"expensive".

So how does someone with no knowledge of cars at all except how to
drive them (and who has a very small amount of overdraft to spend on a
car) go about buying one? I decided to go about it in my usual fashion.
I would, I thought, put the word out to the universe that I needed a
car and wait for one to come my way.

There are troubles with this type of problem solving. It does work but
not always in the way you expect.

I told my prisoners during cookery class about my predicament and how I
had stood snivelling on the grass verge in the rain. One of them asked
why my "old man" hadn't come out and rescued me. I couldn't really say
my boyfriend is the type who can never remember which side of his Honda
Civic the petrol cap is on.

Well my problem solving method has worked. My cousin Richard has come
up trumps. He happens to have a golf sitting in his drive the price of
which is exactly the amount of my remaining overdraft. I can go and
pick it up on thursday when I am in London. It isn't white with
spoilers as everyone has been telling me it will be. It isn't black
with tinted windows and extra fog lamps either. It is silver. The same
colour as my boyfriend's Honda Civic. The same colour as my ex
husband's Fiesta which I once ridiculed for having air con. I bet my
golf will not have air con. I will be glad if it has an engine that
works.

And I will be sure to carry a brolly in the back in case, on some
stormy evening, I pass a silver Fiesta broken down on a dangerous
bend.