"Jack, where's Martin's car?"
I'd just noticed that Martin's car was no longer parked in our driveway and Jack was home so he obviously hadn't borrowed it.
"It's OK. I lent it to Paul for the afternoon. He's always wanted to drive a decent sports car and this is probably the only chance he'll get."
"Was that wise? Paul is not the most sensible driver in the world. I believe when a similar request went from Paul to Martin the answer referred to dead bodies, and Martin wasn't talking about his own."
"Geez, woman, you worry too much. Paul knows better than to do anything to damage the car and he certainly won't get himself booked in it. He'll have it back here this evening and Martin will never know."
"And just what did Paul do to persuade you to let him have the car? Blackmail or bribery?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," scoffed Jack. "Blackmail, indeed."
"Ah. Bribery. How much?"
"Fifty if you must know. No harm in it. If Martin notices the extra mileage I'll just say I took you for a spin in it. He's got a soft spot for you so he'll let it pass."
"You don't think he might be a little suspicious when he fronts up to collect his car and finds it missing and you and me here?"
"He won't. You can trust Paul to have it back this evening with no worries."
"The trouble is Martin likes his car. You can trust him to be around here to collect it as soon as he gets back from his trip."
"And that's on the twentieth and that's tomorrow."
"Tomorrow is the twenty first," I gently pointed out.
"Oh, fuck," yelled Jack, hauling out his phone to check the date. "Oh, double fuck. I'm dead. He'll kill me. He'll bury me the backyard, right next to Paul. We are so dead."
"I suggest you get the car back. If you're lucky Paul can get it here before Martin shows up."
"More likely Paul will drive up just as Martin gets here. I know. I'll tell Paul to meet me at his place and I'll drive it back from there. If Martin's already here I'll tell him I took it down to get some petrol to make up for the run I took you on. That'll work."
Jack whipped out his phone, breathing a sigh of relief when he contacted Paul. There was a short conversation, studded with some expressive language as they contemplated their likely fate.
"Listen, love, Paul needs half an hour to get back. I'll head around to his place to meet him. If Martin turns up stall him. I don't care if you have to accidentally knock him out - stall him."
"What do I tell him when he asks where you and the car are?"
"Ah, I'm getting fuel and asking the mechanic to listen to the engine as I think it's running a bit rough. That'll cover any delay."
Forty five minutes to an hour before he'd be back with Martin's pride and joy. Well, there was nothing I could do about it right now so I just went on with what I'd been doing and hoped for the best.
Not having paid my dues to the good-luck fairy I didn't get the best. Barely fifteen minutes after Jack left Martin rolled up in a taxi. Of course, I told myself. How else would he get here? His car is here, in theory.
Martin knocked on the door and I reluctantly answered.
"Martin, what a pleasant surprise. Come on in."
I was all over him like a rash, practically dragging him through to the kitchen, talking all the while. If I was talking, he wasn't, and if he wasn't, he wasn't asking questions about his car.
I blathered on, getting him to sit and have some coffee. He finally broke through all the verbiage I was throwing up, asking pointedly, "My car?"
That was my cue to start talking about his wonderful car.
"Jack took me for a drive in it yesterday," I humbly admitted. "He said you wouldn't mind." I tried to look a little guilty at that point. "That car is wonderful. You just seem to glide along. And the engine is so silent when you're in the car. Our car you can barely hear yourself talk, it's so noisy."
"That's nice but exactly where is my car?" Martin managed to slip into the conversation.
"It's in the drive, isn't it?" I asked, looking doubtful. "Oh, no, it isn't, is it. Jack took it. I know he told me what to tell you when you arrived but it seems to have gone completely out of my head. I can be quite scatter-brained at times. A terrible fault, I know. I know he mentioned fuel to cover our little trip yesterday and he said he thought he'd better see the mechanic while he was there. Something about the engine sounding a bit harsh?"
"Running a bit rough, maybe?" asked Martin, and I had to admire the way he kept control of himself. I could see a little tic at the corner of his eye. I'd seen it before when he was under stress.
"Anyway," I continued, dragging the word out, "what do you think of the current mess the government is in?"
Politics is always a good subject. Men seize on it and go to town, letting all their aggro spill out on the politician of their choice. Martin was no different. He started off at once.
"Well, I have to admit that I'm not too sure what to make of Anderson's latest scheme. It seems to me that applying Keynesian economic theory to the political realities of the education system to ensure that every high school get an approved turbo entabulator at government expense might be going a bit too far. Don't you agree?"
Agree? That statement flew past me so fast I didn't see it coming or going.
"Oh, yes," I agreed. "It seems to me that governments don't always know what they're talking about."
"Neither do some people," Martin said, nodding. "Ah, we don't have anyone named Anderson in the government. The rest of what I said was pure garbage."
He rose to his feet and stretched while I looked at him slightly stunned. He strolled around the kitchen table to stand next to me.
"Up, up," he said, indicating I should stand, which I did, albeit rather nervously.
