Dearest reader
I hope you are well. This is a very long, very slow, slow-burn. (If you aren't in the mood for that, try this
list of stories
.) It will take a long time to get to any sexy stuff and, when you get there, it won't necessarily be the kind of sexy stuff you were expecting, especially if you've read my other work.
It's also my love letter to local radio and the Bristol music scene circa 2003-2008. I have taken lots of liberties with both. This is not an especially accurate representation of either. There's a link to a playlist of as much of the music as I could find on my profile.
For context and back story, you might want to read
I have seen love
,
I have touched love
and
I have made love
, but that's entirely optional. This will stand alone.
There is also a companion piece to this,
Twenty
, told from Poppy's point of view that covers much of the same time frame.
Happy reading.
Love t x
_______________________________
With Her Wheels, April 2005
"Well, er, it's basically like Trish said really. We was working together, the two of us like, at Kwikfit and customers, ladies 'specially, was asking us to do more than what we usually did there. More complex stuff than tyre changes and whatnot. So we 'ad this ideal of setting up on our own. Then Nicci found this place for us, an', er, decided she wanted a change, didn't you Nic?"
Leigh looks over my recorder to Nicci, who nods in agreement. I keep the inviting smile on my face, but inwardly wince. That kind of natural exchange, where non-verbals are crucial, will absolutely not work on the radio, sadly. Hopefully, I'll be able to edit out the question.
"An' actually we never meant to be, like, all women or nofin', it just turned out that way basically."
"It must be a lot politer around here, just women working, right?" I ask.
That got a laugh from all three of them.
"Oh no," breaks in Trish, "me and Leigh can curse a right blue streak an' all, especially when we bugger summat up."
Again, I despair inside. I can't use "bugger". While Leigh and Nicci concur, I mentally weigh up asking Trish to say that again, and switch "mess" for "bugger", but decide it'll make them all too self-conscious. I might be able to cut it out anyway.
The conversation carries on as they talk eagerly about their successful first three years as a women-centric garage. They have relaxed now, no longer really conscious of the microphone, just chatting easily in their office as they might at the end of a day, I suppose. This is going to make a great feature, exactly the kind of piece I love making: a good news success story, the antithesis of the usual doom and gloom of radio bulletins. Trish and Leigh speak in a beautiful Bristol burr, soft and littered with lilting els; Nicci, more elegant, more feminine, is slightly posher, as befits her front-of-house role and past experience as an estate agent. Her voice will be distinct for listeners, but it will be hard to tell the two mechanics apart. I'll need to record brief captions to distinguish them.
"Did you say there were three mechanics here?" I ask during a lull in the chat.
"Oh yeah, Ram been with us for a year now?" Trish side-eyes Nicci at this, who nods to confirm. "She's our sparky. These modern cars, with their computers an' all, not somefing I trained to deal wiv - did you Leigh?"
"Nah." Leigh crosses her arms over her ample chest and leans back in her chair. "I can 'andle ignition issues an' lights an' stuff like that, but basically Ram's the girl for the complex wiring jobs on these modern models."
"She's also the one who runs the course with the local college, for teens," Nicci leans into the microphone, her initial aversion to it long gone. "We do a basic vehicle maintenance course for girls, and in September we're taking on two young ladies as formal apprentices."
"That sounds wonderful!" I gush. "Can we get her in? Is that okay with you?" I wondered if the reason she wasn't here was because the three partners didn't want anyone else in the limelight.
There's an embarrassed silence, as the three shoot looks at each other.
"Well..." Leigh starts.
Nicci is quickly on her feet. "She
might
talk to you," she says, "let me go and ask her. Now we've met you and we can put in a good word for you. Just... hang on." With that enigmatic utterance she leaves the office. Through the glass partition she walks across the small workspace - they've only really got space for three cars to be worked on at once - and disappears behind a campervan. My curiosity is well and truly piqued. I look at Leigh willing her to go on.
"Basically, Ram don't like the media." She pronounces it more like "me de ya". "But, y'know, you seem sound to me... Nicci'll put in a good word for ya, don't worry."
Oh okay. So it wasn't a case of them not wanting this Ram to talk to me, but the other way around.
"Why not?" I ask, deeply intrigued. I can't imagine why a mechanic would dislike the media.
Leigh and Trish shift uncomfortably, clearing their throats and looking anywhere but at me. I know that they aren't related, but dressed in their blue, oil-stained overalls, with their dark, close-cropped hair, stocky, powerful-looking bodies, they could be sisters. And like sisters, they seem to have closed ranks.
"Lemme just..." Trish jerks her head towards the door Nicci left by, then stands and leaves.
"Er..." Leigh stands up hastily, "jus' gotta go to the loo."
Suddenly, I'm by myself in the office. I flick back to the beginning of the track on the mini-disc recorder, slip my headphones on; might as well double check the quality. Yep, levels are good, but as I suspected, telling the difference between Leigh and Trish's voices is going to be hard.
Pulling them off, I hear Nicci's voice, cajoling and calming, coming back over the forecourt, accompanied by the click of her heels and the steadier thump of a pair of boots.
I put on my softest smile, and try not to look intimidating, which isn't hard given I'm barely five foot and I'm sitting down.
The woman who walks in behind Nicci radiates resentment. She's also stunning, but is desperately trying to distract from it. Her head is shaved up the sides, with short, spiky dreadlocks on top, bars through her eyebrows, a big septum ring, and a vast array of metal in her ears. But none of these can distract from the gorgeousness of her dark skin, which glows, now with anger, her sharp cheekbones, or her dark eyes, which glower at me.
"Hi," I say brightly, "I'm Liz Bradford. Thanks so much for agreeing to talk to me." I stretch out my hand.
She seems to almost sneer in distaste, but then, grudgingly, gives me a firm if brief shake. She doesn't introduce herself.
I get the sense that this woman will not want to talk about herself. Everything about her posture and dress - collar turned up over a tight neck-scarf, sleeves rolled all the way down and buttoned up, huge DMs with the steel toes poking through the worn leather - scream her discomfort. I pick my words carefully.
"I was wondering if you could tell me something about what the girls do on the courses?"
There's a miniscule drop in the height of her shoulders. "Yeah, sure. Well, we start with the basics: how to check the oil, the water, the tyre pressure." Her voice is not what I was expecting at all. There is no trace of the Brizzle burr, rather RP, but flatter, betraying nothing of who she is or where she comes from. There's an almost musical, sing-song rhythm to it which I can't place at all. "Then the most common issues: how to deal with a flat battery, so we teach the participants how to jump start a car, and also how to change a wheel. We'll also cover road safety; how to behave if you break down and so on. If I get a really keen group, I'll also show them how to check and change brake pads." She's fluent and confident: I imagine she must make a great instructor, young girls instantly feeling at ease with her.
"And how do the participants take to it?"
"There's a lot of trepidation and nervousness at first - they are young women, so they've not often had the opportunity to look under the bonnet of a car before. There's a lot of learned helplessness to combat initially. Jump-starting a car is what I find gives them a lot of confidence. That moment of them realising that they have the power within them to fix a problem always brings a smile to their faces. It helps that it's a team effort too - helps with the bonding."
I nod encouragingly, hoping she'll go on. The contrast of her voice with Trish and Leigh's, and even Nicci's, is striking. It'll sound great on the feature. I am more and more intrigued by this woman Ram: her vocabulary screams University-level education, so what is she doing here?
"Whose idea was it to start these?"
"Mine."
I pause, hoping she'll say more. She doesn't.
"And I understand that you're offering apprenticeships this year. How long will it take for those young women to complete them?"
And she's off, talking about City & Guilds qualifications, schedules, release days, potential timescales. It seems that if she is not the focus of the question, she is more than willing to elaborate on her answers.
I try again. "You're incredibly well informed: did it take a lot to learn all of this?"
"No."
Bollocks.
I try to switch back to neutral topics. "What are some of the challenges that the new apprentices are likely to face with today's cars?"
"Well, it'll be interesting to see what impact hybrids have: they are so new to the market that most drivers will have service agreements with dealers, but we are starting to see a few. So, no doubt those young people we start training this year will deal with them at some point in the future. I also really hope that electric cars will soon become commercially viable. The challenge with them will be that there is less for us to do with them from a mechanical perspective, so it will all be down to our ability to service the electrical components and onboard computers: that will require a whole new set of skills for the future generation of mechanics."
From what Trish and Leigh said, this is Ram's area of expertise (and, from the sounds of it, enthusiasm). Not wanting to risk her shutting down again, I decide to ask more impersonal questions.
"Does With Her Wheels have the expertise to offer such guidance?"
"I'd like to think so," she says.
Inwardly I cross my fingers, and outwardly I smile and nod encouragingly. I've been told my smile is my best feature. The benefits of a wide mouth and good teeth.
"I mean, we go on courses whenever we can and keep up to date with the latest publications."
I'd be willing to bet that when she says "we" here she means "I", but I don't interrupt.
"We've built up a reputation locally, I think, for being a garage that can handle more complex electronic problems, so it would be great to continue to build on that. Certainly, when it comes to the apprenticeships, we've ensured that there is a focus on that area."
