Dad’s new car

My father had a successful career as a salesman during the 1970s, although he would later go on to a desk job when he got sick and tired of all the travelling. Among the perks of his job, naturally enough, was a company car.

When I was nine years old and my brother seven and a half, Dad took delivery of a mustard-coloured Austin 1100, quite a modest car in retrospect but we boys found it fascinating. We both had a fascination with boats and would sometimes pretend the family car was a ship, with us boys sailing it, sitting at the wheel of the (very firmly turned off) vehicle.

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