The first car I owned was a black mini Mayfair. Shiny sleekly in the night, its hazard lights flashing determinedly at the rear, its’ driver’s door flung open just short of a metal railings. My father had see the driver hurl the little car into the kerb and then fling open door before giving chase and vaulting over a metal barrier and up the High St past Barclay’s Bank.
The Sunday night traffic had been crawling – people on their way back from visiting family, or on their way to a restaurant, or collecting children from grandparents – all normal Sunday night stuff.
But what had first caught his eye was that the car was for sale –in the rear mirror was a handwritten advertisement: “MINI MAYFAIR, Y REG, 56,000 MILES and FULL MOT, Non Smoker Driver, Offers near £1200 CALL EVENINGS ONLY”
It was only later as he looked at the scrap of paper he’d written the number down on that he recalled the car had been at a precarious and jaunty angle to the pavement and that perhaps seeing the driver vault a four and a half foot barrier and then sprint away was not a normal Sunday occurrence.
When my father had telephone the number advertised, the man who answered then revealed that he was in fact a policeman and had been off duty when he’d seen a white youth snatch a bag off a young woman who was walking with friends. She’d been knocked to the ground in the skirmish and the mugger had punched her in the face to get her to relinquish the bag and in seeing this whilst driving home from his girlfriend’s place he’d flung the car into the kerb and given chase.
I had been waiting around 6 months for the right Mini to come along and black was the colour I’d been holding out for and the Mayfair had a nicer level of trim than most others. I felt nervous and excited as we drove towards Streatham Vale to view it. My father briefed me on the way. “Now remember, if you act too keen then we won’t be able to negotiate a lower price” and then “ And listen to what he DOESN’T say as well as what he does say.” and finally the statement which filled me with apprehension “If the car is already warm and the bonnet hot when we get there, we’re walking away – no arguments.”
So thirty years later as I approach John Clark Mini dealership, I am running these same questions over and over in my head.
