This morning I had an early start.
I left my house at 6.15am and drove off to collect my friend who lives about 5 miles away from me. I was due to collect her at 7 o'clock and then collect another friend who lives 15 minutes drive away and then drive us all to a meeting in Woodford which is a further 2 and a half hour drive away.
Traffic can be bad so I left plenty of time..
I was, unusually 15 minutes early so I parked the car round the corner from her house and decided to wait for a few minutes in case she wasn't quite ready (I'm considerate like that!).
I turned off the engine and listened to the radio. Ten minutes passed.
I turned up the heating, turned the key in the ignition.....and nothing happened.
No, thought I. This can't be happening.
I drive a Toyota for goodness sake.
Reliability is it's middle name.
I got out of the car, locked it, unlocked it, put the key back in the ignition and tried again (No, I have no idea why I did this but it seemed like a good idea at the time!) Unsurprisingly this random action made no difference. Still all I heard was the deathly rattle of an engine singularly failing to turn over.
OK, now I'm about 5 minutes late. I'm parked round the corner, she can't see me. She doesn't know I'm here.
I'm on a schedule, my car won't start, it's stupid o'clock in the morning and I'm about as mechanically minded as a plant pot.
My mobile phone is in my hand. Who do I call first. My husband, who will be asleep and is 5 miles away? The AA, who will probably laugh? My friend? Argh.
And then, as panic is creeping clammily over my skin with each passing second, from a doorway somewhere out of sight behind me he comes. I see him in my mirror, an angel dressed in blue overalls and he's carrying a clipboard.
I leap from the car as he draws level to me, pouncing like a demented thing out of the early morning mist.
'Morning!' I bellow, doing my best to look both nonthreatening and desperate at the same time.
'I don't suppose you know anything cars do you?'
He smiles at me, 'a little bit' he says, and as he turns towards me I notice the SAAB logo in 6 inch high letters that is stitched to his chest.
Excellent, now I look desperate and stupid; must be his idea of a perfect start to the day!
But he is a GENTLEMAN!
He opens the bonnet, locates the battery, goes back to the doorway from which he emerged only moments before, and comes back with jump leads and a very professional looking red thing which I assume is a battery charger.
I scamper round the corner whilst he is doing his thing, grab my friend and as we return find he has breathed life into the silent heart of my lovely car.
The engine turns and we are saved!!!
We were tragically 20 minutes late for the meeting but this was due to the universe getting it's own back for this moment of joy and blocking the M25 with traffic for an hour.
So, I have no idea whether SAAB make good cars but I tell you this... they employ magnificent mechanics.
Not even Mr Darcy would have stirred my heart more.
Thank you Mr Saab, whoever you are, you saved the day!
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