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Peugeot 307CC on a test drive
‘A lot of people here on holiday come and test drive cars for fun,’ says the man in the car showroom in Exeter. Photograph: Simon Stuart-Miller
‘A lot of people here on holiday come and test drive cars for fun,’ says the man in the car showroom in Exeter. Photograph: Simon Stuart-Miller

Tim Dowling: our car's packed up, but that's the least of its problems

This article is more than 5 years old

I’m in a car showroom in Exeter, sitting at the desk of a man called Alan. He seems to doubt the seriousness of our intent

I am walking down a hot road towards the North Circular, in search of a garage where my wife left our troubled car before she took a train to Cornwall. Three days later, I have been instructed to pick it up.

Walking under an archway, I find a small lot crammed with cars that look like ours, with a small office at the back. Inside is a man sitting at a very tidy desk. He looks more like a GP than a mechanic. He is called Adrian.

“Please sit down,” he says.

Adrian lists the many things he has fixed on our troubled car, and the many other things he cannot fix. It takes a long time.

“So,” I say. “What’s the next step?”

“Get rid of it,” he says.

The next day I am halfway to Wickham festival when the gearbox warning light comes on. A few weeks ago I would have panicked about this, but now I just stop to buy coffee. When I restart the car, the light is off. When it comes on again half an hour later, I am almost at my destination.

After the festival I drive three hours to Exeter, to meet my wife at a friend’s house. In the morning we discuss the car over breakfast.

“‘Get rid of it’, he said.”

“Christ,” my wife says.

“But it is much better,” I say. “I made it here.”

On Sunday morning we load up the car for the trip home.

“See you in London,” says our friend.

“If we make it,” my wife says.

“Yes, we’ll probably see you in about five minutes!” our friend says.

“Ha bloody ha,” says my wife, waving as we pull away.

Five minutes later we walk into their kitchen with our bags.

“What’s for lunch?” my wife says.

“It died halfway up the hill,” I say. “We managed to coast back down.”

“Don’t!” our friend says.

“Please may I have a glass of wine,” says my wife, sitting down. She turns to me. “What’s wrong with you?” she says. I don’t answer.

“He looks bereft,” says our friend.

“Come on,” my wife says. “It’s funny!”

“Do you know what?” I say, snatching a pad off the table. “I’m going to write, ‘Come on, it’s funny!’ on this piece of paper.”

“He’s gone mad,” my wife says.

“Then I’m going to do this,” I say, folding the paper and putting it in my wallet. “And at some point in the next 48 hours I’m going to take it out and show it to you, to remind you of your knack for seeing the lighter side.”

“Why are you being like this?” she says.

“Because,” I say. “What now?”

“First,” she says, “we’re going to stay another night here.”

“Um,” our friend says.

“Then tomorrow we’re going to buy a new car, in Exeter.”

“You can’t buy cars in Exeter!” I shout.

“You can,” our friend says. “I’ll take you.”

On Monday I find myself in a car showroom in Exeter, sitting at the desk of a man called Alan. This is a new experience for me, and I wrongly imagined it would involve someone appealing to my sense of entitlement. Instead, Alan seems to doubt the seriousness of our intent.

“It’s just that a lot of people here on holiday come and test drive cars for fun,” Alan says.

“I am very serious, Alan,” my wife says.

“And the vehicle you’re looking to part-exchange,” says Alan. “Does it have a full service history?”

“No,” my wife says.

“Any dings or scratches?”

“Yes,” my wife says.

“Are any of the warning lights on at all?”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Alan,” my wife says.

After consulting with a colleague, Alan tells us what he can offer for our car. At this point I am tempted to produce the piece of paper from my wallet. In retrospect I’m glad I waited another 24 hours, until after we’d paid a deposit, signed a contract and returned to London by train, for the moment Alan rang to say our old car was coming up as stolen.

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