Servicing A Classic
Servicing A Classic

Servicing A Classic

‘I say, old chap,’ I said, teeth clenched around my pipe. ‘Must we go so fast?’

‘Oh, Beryl,’ my companion, William, rolled his eyes. ‘We’re not even doing the speed limit!’

‘And what is the speed limit, dear boy?’

‘Ten miles per hour!’

‘I say!’




I grumpily gummed the stem of my pipe and pushed myself further back into the seat as the world whipped past us at near the speed of sound.

‘Say, what’s that noise?’ I asked, frowning.

‘Noise, old boy? What noise?’

‘Sort of a clunking sound, coming from your engine,’ I gestured generally with the pipe.

‘Oh, that?’ William nodded. ‘Nothing to be worried about.’

‘And yet, I find myself rather worried!’ I said, as another loud clank rattled the car.

‘It’s just been to my mechanic who does car services. Near Raceview, if you can believe it!’

‘Raceview?’ I couldn’t believe it.

‘Indeed!’ William grinned. ‘What was once days away is now just a few short hours!’

‘Or fifteen minutes by train,’ I muttered to myself.

‘What was that, old chap?’ William leaned over, presumably deafened by the sound barrier we were about to break.

‘Nothing, dear boy,’ I patted his leg. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘Ah,’ he nodded. ‘Right on. Tally-ho!’

‘Tell me,’ I said, warily eyeing the engine. ‘Did you get some sort of car safety certificate? Raceview is a fair distance to have to trundle back to, should it not be worthy of the road.’

‘Of course!’ William laughed. As I watched, his laugh slipped into a smile, then settled into a frown.

‘So, that’s a no?’

‘It might be,’ he grumbled. ‘But!’ – his usual pep returned – ‘That doesn’t mean it isn’t safe!’

The engine clunked extra hard, as if to make a point.

‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure, Beryl you old dog, you!’ he laughed, slapping me on the thigh. I was not impressed.