Talk in the office turned to cars. To be honest not a subject matter that I can confidently chat about apart from when the banter turned to ‘first cars’. Due to the age range present, the variance in car makes was astonishing, however when someone mentioned they had a Mini Cooper I had to smile and nod knowingly.

My first car was a ‘sludge green’ E reg Mini which would only stay reliable so long as it didn’t rain. But I loved the freedom that little tormentor represented. It allowed me to just leave wherever I was and, depending on the weather of course, enjoy the wherever I wanted or needed to go next.

It certainly suited my mood one sunny, dry, summer morning when I had completed a college assignment and the open road beckoned. Heading out to the countryside, away from the mixed energies of the classroom, I turned on the tinny radio and struggling with the lack of synchro-mesh of the early Mini’s gearbox, I negotiated the hill start out of the car park.

Gaining momentum I felt the breeze in my hair from the sliding window that never quite closed, and finally selecting the correct gear from the wobbly gear stick protruding from the scarce carpet like an old, bent coat-hanger, I began to steam along. No chance of breaking any speed regulations of course, but feeling exhilaratingly fast due to the unstable, bumpy ride on offer.

I was 17 years old free and happy, smiling at nothing in particular even when the traffic ahead joined a queue for some temporary traffic lights. Nodding along to the music, in a world of my own, a knock on my window took me very much by surprise.

Shocked, I turned in my seat to see a young man. His mouth was smiling but his eyes showed such deep sorrow. As the traffic ahead began to pull away, he knocked again more urgently signalling for me to slide open the window a little further.

I’m not sure why I did, it was reckless, but I just couldn’t stop myself.

The next minute the stranger thrust a beautiful bouquet of flowers through the window, ran back to his car, overtook me and sped off. Other cars drove past, glancing sympathetically at me;

‘Ahhh…a Mini, say no more…and it’s not even raining!’

And I sat there while the lights changed again, with an arm full of flowers and a head full of questions…but I never saw him again.