With apologies to Ian Fleming.
*
I flicked a speck of dust from the gleaming bonnet of my pride and joy, a British racing green blower Bentley just like the one that James Bond drove in the early Bond novels and the same car that starred in Fleming's other book Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang.
It stood amongst over a thousand other gleaming and beautifully restored Vintage and Veteran vehicles that were about to take part in the Bi-annual Bay to Birdwood rally from West Beach to the National Motor Museum at Birdwood in the Adelaide hills. This year I was driving on my own, my wife of twenty years having decided that she was not prepared to compete with the Bentley for my affections, leaving me for a stuffy accountant who worked for her family company.
The fall out from this development was that I would have to sell my car as part of the property settlement and I think that I will probably miss the 'old girl' more than the human old girl, at least it is cheaper to run.
While we were waiting for the show to get under way many of the drivers wandered around looking at the other cars and asking the owners about their history. I had just finished posing for a series of photographs with the friends of some spectator when I was confronted by an apparition in tweed. She was tall, slender, her lines were classically perfect, her hair was shoulder length and blonde, her complexion fair and makeup understated, but who was noticing. Her voice was like honey, low, soft and smooth. At that very moment I made the decision to revoke my membership of Misogynists Anonymous.
"My, what a beautiful car."
"Thank you, so you like old English sports cars."
"I love them, unfortunately mine is not old enough to run in this rally, but next year it will be in the Classic."
My heart jumped into overdrive. "Are you going to Birdwood?" Well I can live in hope can't I?
"I really only came down to get a close up look at the cars, why, are you inviting me to join you?" I couldn't believe it but my mouth beat my mind to the punch by a good half second.
"Would you like to join me?"
"Let me get my bag from my car, I'll only be a minute."
She wasn't much more than that, "You realise that you'll have to bring me back here to get my car, don't you?"
"Of course." She climbed in and sat in the passenger seat admiring the array of instruments and switches on the dash panel.
The Marshall's voice came over the public address system advising the drivers to start their engines in preparation for the journey. The Bentley roared into life and the engine quickly settled into a soft rumble. "By the way I'm Felicity."
"I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself, I'm Bill."
The car beside us moved into line and we followed, the first part of the journey through Adelaide was slow because of the need to obey speed limits and it wasn't a closed road, but once we reached the hills the road had been closed and we could go as fast as we liked, within reason. Crowds lined the road as we moved slowly through the city and out along North East Road and by the time we had reached the outskirts both of us had perfected the 'royal wave; as used by the Queen, it somehow seemed appropriate given the car we were in.
"Do you have a scarf that you can put on, it's going to get a tad breezy from here on in."
Felicity took a scarf from her bag and tied it around her head, she looked even more beautiful. The Bentley leapt forward as I accelerated up the winding hill out of Tea Tree Gully passing several other cars, the Bentley, Felicity and I all enjoying the freedom of the closed road and being able to use the whole road to sweep around the corners.
"You enjoy this don't you?"
"I have to make the most of this trip, this will be the last time."
"Oh, why so?"
"I'll tell you about it over lunch, just let us enjoy the moment while we can."
"Sure, can I enjoy it too?"
"Only if you enjoy sitting in an old car being pushed to its limit."
"There's not much better." We sat in silence for the rest of the journey because, with the increased speed and the need to run up and down the gears to negotiate the windy and hilly road, the noise level increased dramatically.
Having parked the car in the concourse section of the parking area I jumped out and walked quickly around to the passenger's side, opening the door I handed Felicity out. "We have arrived safe and sound madam."
"Why thank you William, I did so much enjoy the journey."
"Would madam like to stand there for a moment while I set up the table for luncheon?"
"And what is on the menu today?" She was going along with my silliness.
"We have truffled lark's tongues, followed by pate de foie gras and pressed tongue sandwiches washed down with an excellent glass of Shiraz, then we have freshly brewed coffee to your taste with an assortment of seasonal fruits and cheeses."
I lifted the picnic hamper and the table and chairs from the back of the car and set them up. Felicity opened the hamper and peeked inside, "I thought you were joking about the food, but you weren't, you really know how to spoil a girl. You must have been expecting to pick someone up, you have more than enough for two people."
"I wasn't expecting to meet anyone, but I was hoping. I must say I'm not disappointed with the outcome. The hotel put together a picnic hamper for me, I hope it's okay." It was, it wasn't the stuff that I said it would be but it was a very pleasant meal if cold meats and salad, a good wine and cheesecake for dessert. While we ate I filled Felicity in on my predicament, "My wife has left me and is hell bent on taking me to the cleaners. I don't think it is her idea so much but her new partner who just happens to be an accountant whose primary goal in life is the acquisition of money by whatever means available to him. I tried to warn her about the money grubbing bastard but she wasn't about to listen to me. So here I am, trying hard to enjoy the last outing with the 'old dear' before we have to part company so that I can afford her outrageous claims against the joint property."
"What does your lawyer have to say about this?"
"Not a lot, he says that they have done their preparation work well and 'lost' her money in various ways so that it appears that she is living on a zero income along with the fact that her family company, of which she is the Managing Director is on the verge of bankruptcy when a year ago it was a highly profitably business, while my company is struggling because the money that I need now to develop new products for the future has been invested in her company. Quite literally, I'm being right royally shafted. Now I have to hope for a decent bid at the next Shannon's Auction for my Bentley. End of my story, what about you?"
"I have a slightly happier story, I come from a well to do family, sort of local aristocracy, who went to the right schools, studied the right degree at University, met and married the right man, had the right number of perfect children who have both done the same thing and are happily building a perfect life for themselves. The only glitch in all of this is that my husband unfortunately died in a car accident leaving me with an obscene amount of money, a perfectly good company that is able to run itself with good management so that all I have to do is front up to the monthly board meetings."
"Sounds idyllic."
"But it isn't, I'm board witless, I have a great deal of trouble finding something to do with my life, I've grown sick of the usual 'A' list society functions, being seen with the right people at the opening night of the Opera which I find totally boring, especially the sycophants struggling to have their picture taken with the stars at the after party."
"So what do you do to while away the time?"
"I'm interested in art and photography, I'm writing a book on one of my favourite places and its history and I get out to events like this whenever I can."