Edna knew her husband was home when she heard the sound of the car’s horn on the street outside. She rushed upstairs to get Brenda to accompany her outside to see the new car. Mike was standing next to the driver’s door beaming like a toddler on Christmas morning. He called out to them. “Fetch your handbag and lock the door, we’re going for a drive!” With Brenda in the back, Mike set off, immediately, breaking into a running commentary as he drove along.
“Listen to that engine. Purring like a cat. In fact, you might have trouble hearing it, it’s so quiet. And the gears, syncromesh you know, not crunching like when I was in the army. And the indicators, built-in, no floppy arms poking up at the sides”. Realising he was heading south, Edna looked perplexed. “Where are we going, Mike? I thought we were going round the block. I was just about to start to get dinner ready love”. Mike was laughing. “Forget that, we’re off to Southend. We can have fish and chips on the seafront when we get there”. Stopping at a traffic light, he turned to his daughter. “What do you think, Brenda? Don’t you love it?”
The girl shrugged. “It’s a funny colour, and the inside smells like plastic. Makes me feel a bit queasy dad”. Raising his voice, Mike made his point firmly. “I suppose you thought I should have got a white one? Well they’re ten a penny. You won’t see many others in this colour, I can tell you. And if you’re going to be sick, I will take you home now. Don’t you dare be sick in this car, you hear me?”
When the seafront at Southend appeared in the distance, Edna was relieved to be soon getting a break from Mike’s endless chatter about the car. How much you could get in the boot, how it used just so much petrol, and how it was so easy to fix, he could do all the servicing and repairs himself. As he was parking near the pier, she thought that she must now know as much about a Consul Cortina as anyone in England. Except Mike of course.
No sooner had they strolled just far enough to the first place selling fish and chips, Mike was heading to the counter to buy some. “Find a bench or somewhere to sit. We won’t be eating these in the car. I don’t want it smelling of fish and vinegar”. He was so keen to get the food eaten and get back in the car, Edna was left with indigestion, and Brenda wasn’t allowed to waste time having an ice cream.
On the way back there was less traffic, and Edna was scared as Mike speeded up. “You’re doing sixty, Mike, I can see it on the dial”. He just laughed. “It’ll do more than that, love. Just wait until we get on some of those major roads down in the West Country”. Edna couldn’t remember ever going so fast, not even in a train, and she reached out to push her hand against the dashboard. “Slow down, Mike, I don’t like it”. Easing back to forty, Mike shook his head. “You’ll get used to it, love”.
By the time they got back home, it was almost dark. Brenda rushed inside to go to her room and listen to her new record. It was the hit from Gerry and The Pacemakers, called ‘I Like it’. She was pushing her luck, as she had played it so many times on Friday night, Mike had called up to her that if he heard it one more time he would come up there and snap it in half. Don Cullen from three doors away wandered up as Edna was getting out. “New Consul Cortina eh, Mike? How’s she run?”
Delighted to have someone to brag about his car to, Mike grinned. “Jump in, Don. I’ll give you a run into town and back. She’s a good runner, quiet as a mouse”. Edna made her excuses and headed inside, knowing she could not have stood hearing any more about how wonderful the car was.
Mike didn’t get back until gone ten, when Brenda was already asleep.