A Monthly Publication

… BOYS AND CARS

By Norman C. Whye

 In these early years there were not all that many incomers who had bought holiday homes in Hunstanton, and the surrounding villages. Many people had been born, grew up, and resided in the homes that they lived in, and consequently most people were familiar with everyone else. As my father was the local wine merchant, his knowledge of the local people was vast, and I and my friends were allowed to remove ourselves from our homes, and carry out our pursuits without being overcast by the hand of parental guidance and supervision. In fact my mother welcomed it, as I was therefore not under her feet all day. As I progressed in the motor trade, several “new” residents brought, their motor cars to us for service and repairs, and there were several large vehicles with strange figured number plates around.

One day, a large popular, and expensive car appeared on the forecourt, and the foreman went out and with the quite elderly owner, opened the bonnet and buried themselves underneath, investigating and diagnosing a problem with the engine. Inside the car, a small boy, probably the old fellow’s grandson had been left to “guard” a large shopping basket on the front seat.

Often, the patience of small boys in cars, was not so disciplined as was their owners, or relations, and it was while the owner, and the foreman were buried under the bonnet, the lad’s control seeped.

PARP!!!!!

 The stridency of the large car’s hooter was quite extraordinary, and so was the actions of the two men under the bonnet. Both heads came up sharply, the foreman’s colliding with the pointed end of the bonnet catch. Luckily the car windows were closed otherwise the little lad would have quickly learned some funny new words.

 The owner profusely apologised to the foreman, and opening the driver’s door, spoke loudly to the small boy, in quite slow, but determined tones, “Boy! You mustn’t do that! You must never do that!! Sit down over there, and watch over Granddad’s shopping. You will remind me to buy four bananas,”

Closing the door, he resumed peering under the bonnet, discussing with the foreman as to the extent, and expense of the repair. The conversation continued for several minutes.

PARRPPP!!!!!!!

 Both heads shot up sharply, this time it was the turn of the customer to catch his head on that protruding, sharp bonnet catch, Knocking his tweed cap into the engine compartment. Luckily the engine was not running at the time. The owner, muttering, opened the door and fetched the lad a sharp belt round the ear, “Boy! I told you never to do that, now get over there. We will go and fetch these bananas, and then I will take you home”

The old gentleman got into his car, and apologising again to the foreman, who was making his way to his office, rubbing his head, wound the window down and shouting that he would be back first thing in the morning, drove off the forecourt and off towards the Old Village.

 “Not with that******* kid he won’t!”, the foreman  disappeared into his office, slamming the door, leaving those who were watching the episode hardly able to keep straight faces.