Читать книгу Tripping Over - John Hickman - Страница 19

Dad’s business had done so well his premises in Portobello Road became too small.

He secured a lease on larger workshops in Hatton Garden with further room for expansion. Mum preached caution. ‘We must not waste money, Bill.’

Being splashed with good old-fashioned common sense, they decided to go to the Annual Motor Show held at Earls Court. There they could compare prices and strategise as to which type of car would best suit their needs.

Dad made a face. ‘I know. It’s too hard to make it. I’m not daft. We’ll be careful, but we should buy a new car.’

Mum smiled at me. ‘Your dad’s right. Our old Talbot has evolved into dinosaur status.’

‘It’s certainly in need of an upgrade.’ Dad puffed on his pipe with excitement.

Objectives were clearly in mind. Dad was intent on the latest in engines while Mum fixated on comfort and colour. ‘Anything but black, Bill,’ Mum reminded him.

Their parameters were agreed before they set off on their outing.

Hours dragged by with me stuck at home even after I’d exhausted all options for mischief. My anticipation of the events unfolding at the annual show, to which I had been excluded, was absolute torment.

I could hardly contain myself when they returned. I burst out to greet them and my soon to be inheritance, as only a loving son should do. To be stopped harshly in mid air-born strides. What presented was far from the latest in white with crimson red upholstery as I had imagined. Instead they were both getting out of their old black Talbot.

I oozed with sincerity when I said, ‘Well, Dad, where is it? Where’s our new car and what did we get?’

Dad’s face was flushed with alcohol. His expression displayed the distinct pride only new ownership can bring. They could hardly contain their excitement as they hurried inside to show me glossy pictures from every angle of their latest acquisition.

A new boat!

Next day, Gramps shook his head but winked at me. ‘Your dad must have suffered a chardonnay overdose at the show.’ I tried to wink back and nearly got it right.

Gran was amazed about the boat. ‘They’re not exactly spontaneous people, are they? Why would they do that?’

‘Their idea of spur of the moment is to plan a break twelve months ahead, Girl.

But the salesman must have been terrific,’ Gramps added, ‘because Bill’s uninformed about all things nautical.’

‘He’s never liked boats and is terrified of water in any more than bath tub proportions,’ Gran reminded him.

With life back on a more even keel for Mum and Dad, according to Gran, Mum now realised her marriage was like slipping into a hot bath. ‘After you’ve got used to it, love, it isn’t so hot.’

Our new boat soon presented at the boat builders as a largish cabin cruiser with an inboard motor.

Dad was thoughtful and a little sad when he said, ‘You know it’s unlikely we’ll ever use those two bunks up the pointy end, Alice.’

‘You’re right, dear, but I can put out your change of clothes. And the small galley with its stove and sink will be ideal for me to make your cup of tea.’ Mum beamed.

‘Oh well, I suppose we’ve all got stuff in our past that in hindsight isn’t too clever,’ Gran huffed. ‘But tell me, Son, as you don’t like water why buy a boat?’

Dad cast Gran a disapproving look. ‘It’s a lifestyle thing, Mother. Anyway what could possibly go wrong on a river? After all, it’s hardly the rolling deep, is it?’