Norton of Morton

Well, dear readers, my motorcar has been making a truly awful racket over the last few weeks. Adopting ostrich like behaviour, I naturally buried my head in the sand for as long as possible until even cats and dogs covered their collective ears as I trundled past in the old rust bucket. 

Having received my monthly pay cheque from my employer (alas, I do not have an inheritance to squander), I bit the proverbial bullet and made a much-needed visit to the car hospital. 

Well, I won’t bore you with the full details (mechanical talk goes completely over my pomade-covered head) but the lengthy list of mechanical improvements left me parting with a rather hefty sum to bring it back to (almost) full health. Crikey! What exceedingly rum luck.