That, however was before I lost the car keys and although I knew I would get grief off my mother for losing them I wouldn’t have to go to the auction, right? Wrong, how convenient that Jeff from next door, although he wouldn’t be able take me there, he could drop me off at the bus stop 4 miles up the road.
Wahoo! And just to round of a great start to the day, a full-blown hurricane had started the minute I stepped out the door, like it had been waiting especially just to get me soaked!
However, after what seemed like years, but was actually three and a half hours the bus that came to pick me up arrived. Well, actually it careered onto the verge and stopped just in time before it ran over the other unfortunate soul, that happened to be standing there. Also when I say bus I mean it in the loosest possible way. The doors flung open, showing , in places where they were held together by black masking tape and the weary looking bus driver, after charging me £3, directed me towards the moth eaten seats and warned me about the hole that lay in the middle of the aisle, showing the road beneath.
However, I settled down in my seat and braced myself for a rightly anticipated rough journey, culminating in me screaming at the bus driver to stop outside the ‘Auction House’ and him flying straight past and then attempting to reverse, to the anger of the drivers behind him. After practically leaping off the bus and muttering my thanks to the bus driver, who disappeared in a cloud of steam and exhaust fumes, I ran through the still pouring rain into what seemed like a community centre.
I had been worried that my dreadful journey had been for nothing as I was about 2 hours late and there seemed to be nobody around, but as I entered the room on the right of the main doors I knew that this could be no further from the truth.
From one end of the hall to the other, and out the double doors at the back that were flung open, were rows of cars, small hatchbacks, large saloons and 4X4’s, some in varying states of disrepair and others almost brand new. Maybe it wasn’t a wasted journey after all, I thought to myself, and after picking up a list of cars names, started browsing around. I felt like a kid in a candy store, so much choice, and so little time!
And then I saw it. Hidden behind a muddy Land Rover lay the car. It was small and resembled a frog, but it was love at first sight. It’s newly painted pink shape, pink seats and even the fluffy dice in the window appealed to me at once.
After that I didn’t even look any further, in fact I couldn’t think of anything but this car, what all my friends would say, my first car! So when the auction started my nerves were jangling, I hadn’t even contemplated that I wouldn’t have the car, until now and the palms of my hands were sweaty with anticipation.
At last lot no. 123 came up and the bidding started at five hundred pounds, for which my hand rose for immediately. 550, 600, 650, 700… the bidding was getting higher and my 1500 started to seem nothing, finally it was between me and some man at the back who I could see clearly and I placed my last bid, £1500.
For a few seconds the room remained silent and then, £2000. The voice that I had dreaded the most rang across the room, and yet it seemed strangely familiar.
‘Mum?’ I shouted, ‘Mum?! What are you doing here?!’ and in the background I heard the amused voice of the auctioneer saying,
‘Going once, going twice, gone to mum over there!’
She had bought it, she had bought my car. Hang on; she’d bought it for me…YES!
I ran over to her and hugged her,
‘Thanks mum, thank you, thank you, but how did you get here?’ I puzzled.
‘The keys,’ she laughed, ‘they were in the washing basket, with your dirty jeans!’