'I can't. The engine'll cut out.'
'Please.'
I did as she said. Just before the engine coughed to silence she twisted something near the steering rod. The engine muted instantly into a deep, steady thrum.
She stood back and dusted her hands. 'There!'
I sat mesmerized.
'Now,' she said casually, 'care for a spin?'
'Er—'
'Push over.' She came into the driver's seat and nudged me across. 'Let the expert do it, honey,' she said kindly, flicked a switch somewhere, and yanked on an angled rod-thing near her knee.
We took off. My spine nearly slipped from the force. The old Armstrong boomed easily around the station roundabout and Sheila put it onto the hill near the hospital at fifty. We zoomed onto the main A 12 about three minutes later, and Sheila crashed her slickly up into the seventies. Fields and trees flicked by. Wind pulled at my face and her hair streamed out flat against her temples. In a couple of breaths the signs to Kelvedon darted past. I sat in frozen disorientation while all this happened around me. Sheila pulled into the middle lane and did her mystery with the levers. We hummed alongside a column of slower cars, and as she overtook back into the inside the needle wobbled down to seventy. There was hardly a shudder. A couple more millisecs and we were at Witham. She brought us into the station and switched off. The motor breathed a sigh quieting into silence.
'Tea, guvnor?'
There was a tea stall within reach. I nodded and climbed shakily down. Let Sheila pay, I thought angrily. We stood in silence slurping tea from cracked cups. Sheila had this strange feminine knack of being able to drink scalding fluids without losing her esophagus. I was quite ten minutes finishing mine. I stared at the Armstrong while I sipped, thought, and wondered. I handed my cup onto the counter with a nod of thanks. The chap on the stall must have thought we'd had a row, because he studiously busied himself picking losers at Cheltenham and left the cup there.
'Is that what you were doing last night?' I managed to say finally.
'Yes, love. I'm so sorry.' She held my hand.
'Was it… really obvious?'
'It was rather, Lovejoy,' she said sadly. 'A massive car like this, so old, supposedly only one gear, fantastic fuel consumption, no speed to speak of, weak as a kitten, all those gadgets within reach.'
'When did you suspect?'
'Yesterday, when we were trying to hurry to Seddon's before it closed.' She smiled. 'It was ridiculous. And everywhere we go other motorists hoot at it, even when you're driving quite well. So, while you got our usual fantastic supper—'
'What's wrong with my suppers?' I said angrily.
'Nothing, love,' she said quickly. 'Nothing at all. Those pies are lovely, and I really look forward to those shop custards. But I had to do something while you, er, got it ready, didn't I?'
'I thought you were cleaning it,' I said bitterly.
'It wasn't me, really,' she pacified. 'It was you. I remember you once told me the car was the only time your wretched bell proved itself wrong. That set me thinking. So I turned a few switches and—'
'Did you know all the time it was special?'
'No, love. Honestly.' I looked askance at her. Sometimes women aren't quite truthful.
'I think you're lying in your teeth,' I said.
She smiled. 'I quite like a lie now and again,' she said demurely, and I had to laugh.
'You know what?' I asked. She shook her head. 'I think I'm starting to fall for you.'
She inspected me for a few moments. 'About time, Lovejoy,' she said. 'We're both suffering from malnutrition with those corny dinners you insist on serving up. I'll bring my things on Sunday to stay for as long as we last.'
'I'll meet you at the station, seeing I'll be able to start the car now.'
'There's a switch near the starting pump. Push it down, and she'll start with the first crank of the handle.' She pulled me into the driver's seat and showed me an exotic circular gear wheel, five gears and one reverse. I sat like a beginner as she explained the controls.
'The London train, lady.' The tea man knocked on his window to attract our attention.
'That's it, then, Lovejoy.' She brushed her hair back and got her case out.
'I love you.' I embraced her. 'Give us a kiss, love.'
The train came and took her away.
'Go easy in that monster,' she called, her very last words to me. Go easy in that monster. Some exit line.
'I will. See you Sunday.'
The tea man was out of his booth and examining the Armstrong as I came up. 'You've a right bit of gorgeous stuff there,' he said.
'Yes. I thought it was an Armstrong.' I kicked a tire.
'Eh? Oh, no. I meant your young lady.'
