We drive along the motorway. The rising sun is low in the sky behind us, flashing us in the mirror like an impatient motorist.
There is a rattle, says Francis.
"This car doesn't rattle," he mutters. He is doing 70. He is agonised. He drives with one hand and pats down the dashboard with the other like a police officer frisking a suspect.
The rattle continues. Francis starts to question me. The car cannot be to blame. It must be me. Have I packed any metal item? Well, plastic then? Could I have packed something a while back and hidden it under the seat. Because this car DOES NOT rattle.
The children and I remain stolidly indifferent. We can hear nothing. The rattle is audible only to the car fanatic.
A second rattle joins the first rattle.
A shadow falls across the sky.
"There goes the sun for today," says Francis, surprising the faux wood surround with a karate chop.
We can all hear the third rattle.
"These - cars - don't - rattle," he says, through gritted teeth, dealing the glove pocket a sharp blow with his fist.
He surveys the nearly empty road. "If only," he says wistfully, "all car journeys could be as stress free as this."
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11 comments:
O, how well I recognise that particular scenario!
And if it's not a rattle in the car (especially in one that doesn't rattle), then it's the disappearance of the car keys, or the TV remote control, or mobile phone - each one of which, it is distinctly remembered, you were yourself seen in possession of last..
IB: I have to say that it is often my fault (my desk is arousing particular rage at the moment) but it does make me laugh, or at least grimace slightly.
I think this is what they call British understatement, isn't it?
Sweet I: Understatement always beats ranting - it just looks neater, somehow.
You want to sit in my car if you want to hear one rattle. I sometimes think the sides will fall off when I go over the level crossing near here.
Crystal xx
LOL but more at myself. I see me doing Francis' bit I fear... I hang my head..
My husband's always doing this to me - so much so that sometimes I think I've spontaneously gone deaf. 'What bloody noise? All I can hear is you, sighing and tutting.' It's SO IRRITATING.
Mya x
CJ: I would be unfazed, but Francis would scream and throw himself out of the window in front of a train.
Lady M: It's so big and grown up to admit to it, though.
Mya: So you know how I feel.
I even turn the music down to hear my car groaning - much to my daughter's annoyance. It's an affectation to which I will freely admit; allows me to say, 'Is that the crankshaft?', knowledgeably.
Lol. I, however, have been weaned off that particular worry, since there is so much rattling plastic in my Toyota it is like travelling with a bunch of hitch-hiking castanetists.
Debio: 'Is that the crankshaft?' Must remember that one - possible out of car application too.
SAHD: Loved the idea of hitch-hiking castanetists - do you think they'd click their preferred destination in Morse Code?
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