My beloved wife woke me early this morning, yelling up the stairs - "It's gone! It's gone!"
Emerging from another dream about fairies dancing in a woodland clearing, I yelled back, "What? What's gone?"
"It's the Maserati!"
I raced downstairs and sure enough Fabio - the banana-coloured Maserati I bought straight after my big lottery win was not where I had parked him yesterday afternoon. There was just an empty space.
We phoned Woodseats police and a couple of hours ago a panda car arrived containing P.C. Gray and P.C.Barlow - who is a woman constable still in training I believe. There were many questions to answer and papers to sign but in the end P.C. Gray confessed in his lilting Welsh accent, "You haven't much chance of getting it back. It'll probably be on a shipping container already. Heading for China or some such place." Great!
After the cops had gone, Shirley and I had a heated debate about the lottery money. To tell you the truth, it has disturbed our equilibrium. It is often said that money cannot buy you happiness and that money is the root of all evil. Well, I am beginning to concur with these sentiments. I am sick of it. We were happier before all this dosh was transferred to our bank account.
There's so much of it that the total figure is growing day by day. I could easily buy another Maserati to replace Fabio but how could I sleep at night? Instead of fairies in a woodland clearing I would be imagining hideously ugly car thieves in balaclavas, circling like vultures.
For the time-being we will stick with Clint plus Shirley's little grey car - Bonnie. By the way, Bonnie received a nasty scratch in the health centre car park on Tuesday afternoon and the careless perpetrator didn't even report it - just drove off. Damnable!
As for the lottery money, we will just have to think some more about it.
This blogpost was written in memory of Fabio. He did not stay long but he was my friend.