I don’t normally tune in to Watchdog. Nicky Campbell is worryingly thin and I have never got over the days when it was presented by the mad Robinson woman who used to work in this office, and is still remembered fondly if not fondlely.
However, I was just throwing another servant on the fire when I heard the words Vauxhall and handbrake in the same sentence. Then my blood ran chill. Well, it takes time for damp servants to catch.
Some years ago I had a Vectra on test which fell in love with a Citroen Picasso. One Sunday morning and in a suitable daze, I took it to get the papers. I parked up behind the village store, there is a slight slope here, and popped in.
When I came out ten minutes later the Vectra had gently mounted the front offside of the Citroen. Its handbrake was clearly in the off position.
Idiot, idiot, fool, bumpkin, simpleton, Alistair Darling I cursed myself.
Driver details were swopped and on Monday I rang the Vauxhall press office and offered myself for ridicule or, at the very least, a one-litre Corsa automatic.
Then there it is, bold as 36 inch HD, a Vectra letting of its own handbrake. Now I do feel a fool.
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