The Squashed Man Who Married a Dragon Read Online Free Page B

water and don’t know the first thing about sailing whatsoever. I could see this hull finished, painted up, engine installed, all for next to nothing and in no time at all. Back home, it somehow lost some of its appeal and, it was harder to justify the capital outlay. The next day, I slunk back to renegotiate the ownership of the boat with a very understanding Mr TVR.
    The double whammy that followed was first going out to work did not really appeal to Vicki and, after working for nearly a full year, retirement beckoned. Secondly, the thought of a car for nipping around in did appeal, who would have guessed that?
    So in a generous and weak minded moment I said ‘of course – just as you wish’, that’s exactly what blind love does for you. She looked so pretty – never much make-up – so naturally beautiful I could admire her all day long.
    I even took her to Blackpool in its more upmarket shopping days, I don’t know how or why but we found ourselves gazing in admiration at fashion boots. Those very shiny black leather high heeled thigh boots in Vernon Humpage, the name is burnt forever into my wallet, costing more than a week’s wage, but those boots, a miniskirt and her legs…what’s money anyway, to a man on a thousand a year?
    So while I committed myself to a lifetime of earning the family bread, a car – a small economical family car was a burning need. Something to get the shopping, transport Vicki, Angela, our baby, and pram, etc., and for visiting grandparents and friends. So I found myself in a car showroom in Chorley, second-hand and continental cars, owned by a friend of ours.
    Peter said they could find something that ‘would fit the bill’ but there in his showroom was a fabulous, lovely early Porsche sports car, open top, dark blue, rear engine, very low, very sleek, the early ones weren’t very fast. The gear lever was like a knitting needle and the interior was even a little Spartan – but for around eight hundred pounds or maybe less. I wanted this car badly, Vicki would love it, Angela wouldn’t care – the pram and the shopping wouldn’t fit in anywhere. ‘Oh’ I knew this was a heaven sent investment opportunity, a collector’s classic par excellence. Dragged to the back of the garage and there into the real world, Peter showed me a pale blue Renault 4L, a sort of utility estate type vehicle. It needed some work done, but it would be vastly less money and would be an ideal low cost first family car.
    When I got back home and told Vicki what I’d arranged – all was well – for a while favours were bestowed upon lucky me and even if I left a dirty mug on the wrong side of the sink I only received a minor ‘bollocking’.
    The problem was that the Renault took longer and longer to appear. It was always next week, ‘we are waiting for a new bit or something’. If pushed ‘you want it to be safe don’t you’ was raised. The truth was I had screwed Peter down to a very low price and his father, who owned the business, realised this was a nonprofit transaction for a friend, so urgency was never on the cards. It seemed to take so long, and Vicki gave me so many third degrees ‘when is this car coming’. At long last it arrived, thank heavens! The 4L proved to be a very practical, reliable and economical vehicle with masses of luggage space, a great first family car.
    Within a very few years I’d bought her an old, tired, pale blue MGB sports car – not at all practical or economical, but she loved it to pieces and no moans about lack of space at all.
    It does cross my mind that the Porsche might have been OK after all.

NEARLY NORMAL
    MOVING HOUSE
    Three years after we had bought our first home, a new housing estate was growing in the fields behind us, and although our little cottage was a very cosy little home, we needed and wanted more space. So we made our own ‘For