I didn't realise how long this prologue, this summary of events leading up to the moment, would take. I guess there's no point doing it half heartedly though. I'm in for the full caboodle.
So where were we?
Vee was having a hard time of things as of late. Well, if I were to list everything that she has been through recently, you would think I am making it up. Sadly, however, I wouldn't be. Are some people born to attract bad luck, are some people born to see things as bad luck over the good fortune, or is it maybe a combination of both? I know a lot of bad things happen to me, but I also know that I bring some of it on myself... it's almost like tempting lady fate will result in her lashing out. I also sometimes get the most outrageous good luck, which I always try and acknowledge, as i don't want to see or even claim that everything bad happens to me. But I also do believe some people do receive more good than bad luck, and vice versa.
If we were to make a film of something that recently happened to Vee, the viewers in the cinema would come out saying that the script was crap, because it just didn't add up. The film would involve her, a normal, if beautiful, girl with a world around her that is fine tuned to over react to the smallest of things and blow them out of all proportion. Imagine a world where that was happening, where everyone was reacting in a way you couldn't justify, except there wasn't anyone you could talk about it to, as they were all on the same crazy side. That's what it seemed like for her (to me) except she has had a few people outside of the madness, thank God. But anyway, i'm getting distracted; that's another story.
One thing that did happen to her recently that is relevant is that her car broke down going to work and the monday just gone, both of us, having the day off work, decided to combine forces and rescue it from the side of a main road of a coastal village a fair few train stops away along the coast.
We set off in high spirits, treating it as a day-out as opposed to a miracle task of fixing a car already on it's last legs. The plan was to get a petrol can filled up from the local (or what turned out to be not so local in the end) petrol station, take it back to the car... pour it in, then drive smoothly and effortlessly away, high fiving and singing in jubilation. By the time we got off the train, it had started raining gently but steadily, and soon enough we were both soaked. Soaked in the good way though, where the rain actually feels nice, and adds to the experience rather than detracting from it. Another half hour of trudging about in it may have changed that though.
We got the petrol can, filled it up (4 litres) and I offered to carry it to a)be a gent (even though it would be close as to who would win in a fight), and
b)because i saw carrying a petrol can around as a proper manly thing to do. And it felt that way too. I was loving it, and I think she was too, the way she kept gently squeezing my can wielding bicep as we walked. No, i'm only joking, but I did feel strangely dad-like. All I was missing was a plank of wood to saw in half for absolutely no reason and i'd have been away.
Anyway, i'm getting slightly distracted. We got back to the car, after a good chat about allsorts of random nonsense (oh don't you love it?) including "would you be a duck or a swan?" to which Vee told me about diving ducks, and once I knew about these subterfuging quacklets there was no comparison really, was there? Also, due to the extraordinarily high number of bottles in the back of her car, she told me about how she was contemplating making a plastic-bottle-raft, and we then proceeded to spend a good 30-45 minutes discussing the ins and outs of the workings of this revolutionary craft. Obviously i'm not going to divulge too much information at this time (this is our nest egg) but let's just say it involved massive ball bearings, half filled bottles, pivots, utilisation of the undulation of the waves and a self powering eco friendly core. Other than that my lips are sealed.
But anyway, we eventually got back to the car, and I saw that it was parked up on the side of a rather busy (yet narrow for the volume in my opinion) road. We, well, okay, Vee poured the petrol into the allocated slot at the side of the car, whilst I watched for cars looking like they were going to drive too close with her (remember we are in Southern England). Once the fuel was poured in, we got into the front and waited with baited breath as she turned the key in the ignition.
She tyried and tried again, but sadly it seemed that lack of petrol wasn't the cause after all. or was it? Vee told me about how the previous owner had told her that the car always had trouble starting when facing uphill, so i suggested we turn it around and bump started it down the gentle hill to see what we could get. Dispite my re-assurances that I could do it myself, she insisted on helping as we pushed it first up the hill to sneakily and cheekily reverse back into someone's drive for the mad push across the two busy roads and down the hill. Actually, the traffic somehow disappeared as we aimed across the road, and we started pushing together, ggetting a decent bit of speed, and then i realised that we were heading for the wall at the other side of the road. Vee was outside the car pushing with one hand on the steering wheel, and i was like "Argh... get in the car, Vee!" and she did in one stuntwoman swoop, niftily turning at the same time so the car was now heading downhill. i kept pushing from the rear and tried not to pant too hard as we staretd to pick up speed and she kangarood the car.
In the end, she ground to a halt, the car still as dead as a dodo.
I got in, gasping and internally sighing (I really wanted it to work for her) and she tried the ignition one last time. It didn't start, but started to, well, I don't know cars, but go chhhhhhh-chhhhh and she was like "come on baby..." and I held my breath (which was extra impressive as I was already out of breath) and she chhhhh-chhhhhed a few more times before stopping. I thought she had finished, but she tried again, and this time you could hear that it was so close. SO CLOSE.
"COME ON... COME ON!" we chanted in unison until she (for she later christened her reborn car Rosie (or was it Rose?)) coughed, spluttered and roared into life.
We cheered and high fived and and smiled and laughed and it was a great moment.
She took the car very gently home, nipping into a petrol station for a proper fill up, and then we drove her home, both slightly mentally exhausted from the ordeal, but agreeing that we should go for a celebratory pint.