Fair Swop

A little snippet.

A quick flash story for you all.

No sex whatsoever, and little background.

You've been warned.

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"Wow! This one's nice."

"Nice doesn't describe it," I told the beautiful woman hanging onto my arm. "It's the new Jaguar F type - R. Five litre supercharged V8 and does 0 to 60 in four seconds and just short of 200 miles per hour. Carbon fibre brakes and vector torque steering."

"I really like the colour."

Women!

No understanding them. No souls, some of them.

"Can I help you Mr ... eh ... Kingsly," asked the smart looking salesman who'd wandered up to us, glancing at the name-tag on my chest and smiling at me expectantly. Smiling at me that is when he could drag his eyes off Nadia, stood there alongside me.

"I wish you could," I laughed back at him, but I'm only a car mechanic. Only here because my boss couldn't make it to your open day. I doubt if I could afford to buy one of the wheels."

"Have a sit in it anyway," he invited me with a grin. "That doesn't cost anything."

"Go on Fred," Nadia encouraged me, giving me a playful shove. "Have a sit in it. See how the other half live."

A nod from 'Tom Sheppard', as his tag proclaimed him to be, and I happily lowered myself into the sumptuous, enveloping leather of the fabulous sports car's seats, stretching my legs out and taking hold of the leather clad steering wheel.

If only!

A dream beyond dreams.

"Suits you Fred," giggled Nadia, her flowing auburn hair framing her cute face.

"Certainly does Sir," threw in the salesman, grinning widely, his eyes swivelling to take in Nadia's shapely bottom as she leant over the bonnet of the car. Not that I could blame him. Not that I minded.

"Fancy a test drive?" He surprised me with.

"You're joking."

"Come back in half an hour, just before lunch. We've got another one round the back you can try, and I'll be free by then."

"You're joking," I repeated in disbelief.

"Come back and see," he grinned at me. Well, more at Nadia than me if the truth were known, but he seemed a genuine sort of chap.

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"Well there it is Fred," Tom said to me, half an hour or so later, round the back of the Jaguar dealer. "It's not the five litre model but not bad, eh?"

"Fabulous," was all I could mumble.

"What do you think Mrs Kingsly?" He asked, trying not to stare too obviously.

"It's Nadia," she told him, smiling back at him. "But I think I preferred the colour of the other one."

Yes. Right. Bloody typical. Tom and me gave one another knowing looks, the way men do in such circumstances.

"Do you want to jump in with Fred here and take it round the block?" He offered.

"No way," Nadia rejected the idea with a shake of her head, frowning at the open topped car. "I've just had my hair done. You go with him."

"Rather stay here with you," Tom blurted out, blushing as he realised he'd just spoken out loud what he had been thinking.

"Off you go then Fred," Nadia giggled, giving Tom a playful cuff on the arm. "Tom here seems like a gentleman. I'm sure he'll look after me."

"You're sure Nadia?" I asked, tempted beyond thinking straight.

"Of course I'm sure Fred."

"Have it back by seven Fred," Tom surprised me with. "That's when we close. Be careful. Don't bend it."

"Right," I exclaimed gleefully, a fixed smile on my face as I pushed the button and fired up the engine, marvelling at the roar from the tuned exhaust. I selected first gear, eased off the clutch and with a gentle pressure on the throttle eased the beautiful car away from the kerbside and out into the traffic.

My last view of Nadia was of her being led back into the showroom by Tom, his hand tentatively on the small of her back, leading her away, by the looks of the pair of them, me already forgotten.

Fair exchange is no robbery, or so the saying goes.

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For the rest of the afternoon, I ... Well, never mind what I got up to or where I went. Let's just say that I got an awful lot of admiring looks from an awful lot of pretty girls as I drove by.

Clothes maketh man they do say, but these days a great set of wheels can have just the same effect.

Seven O'clock was approaching, and I simply didn't want to give the car back, even reluctantly pulling the car over to the side of the road when my mobile phone went off.

"Mr. Kingsly?"

"That's me."

"I've got Nadia Kingsly on the line for you."

"Hi sweetie," she greeted me. "How's your day been?"

"Fabulous," I told her. "How's yours been? How's Tom?"

"Great," Nadia informed me enthusiastically. "He wants to know if we can keep the swop going a bit longer."

"No problem," I agreed, trying to sound hesitant, but happy for my good luck and genuinely pleased that Nadia was so obviously happy with the arrangement. "Where do I bring the car back to this evening?"

"Well Tom was thinking ... That is we were both thinking that maybe you should keep the car overnight. Bring it back to the garage tomorrow lunchtime."

"You're sure?"

"Never surer," Nadia giggled.

Well who would have thought it?

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I was in my element that evening, giving my mates a spin round the town, and a few young ladies as well for that matter. Of course I did give some thought to what Nadia might be up to, but after all, she was a grown woman and able to make her own decisions. There might well be some tears later on, but meanwhile I was making the best of my good luck, and genuinely hoped that Nadia was as well.

The following lunchtime I had to give the car back, even though there was no sign of the other two when I got there.

Didn't see Nadia for another four days as it happened. Not that I worried though because she'd rung Mum to let us know she was OK.

"Time that sister of yours found a good man and settled down and gave me some grandchildren," Mum scolded me, as if it was my fault. "This Tom seems to be a nice chap."

And a nice chap he was.

Turned out he wasn't just a salesman at the garage but the son of the owner and slowly taking over the business from him, and sure enough Mum soon got her way. My sister, Nadia Kingsly became Nadia Sheppard, soon to be with child, and happily married to my new friend Tom. New friend and new boss as it happened, me eventually getting the job of maintenance manager at the garage when the previous one retired.

Now you may be thinking that maybe Tom had a sister but I'm afraid he simply didn't. He did however have this cousin called Julie, who turned out to be a pretty little thing. Little and pretty and blow me down if she didn't take a shine to me.

"Just like waiting for a bus," our Mum remarked to my sister and I and our spouses, grinning widely at the kids scampering round her garden, laughing and screaming. "You wait ages for one to come along, and then all of a sudden there are four of them."

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That's all folks!

Hope it at least amused you.