That meant a visit to Shefford’s, Fethering’s only garage. Though she had bought the car new from a Renault dealer in Brighton, as soon as the free services under guarantee ended, she had transferred her custom to the local man. Bill Shefford had run the garage for as long as anyone in Fethering could remember. Now in his seventies, the general view in the village was that he would soon be handing over the reins to his son Billy, who had worked in the business since he left school. This opinion was unsupported by anything said by Bill himself. The word ‘retirement’ had never been heard to pass his lips. He behaved like someone who would work for ever.

Carole valued the regular contact she had established with Shefford’s. She knew, from uncomfortable experience, how easily women could be patronized by men in the motor trade. Though she would never have claimed any proficiency with machines, she had still felt diminished by the way she had been treated at the Brighton dealership. There had been no overt rudeness, just an underlying don’t-you-worry-your-pretty-little-head-about-it attitude which she found distinctly unwelcome.

At Shefford’s, though, her ignorance of motoring matters was accepted but not dwelled on. Bill was canny in the management of his mature lady customers. Carole could drop in there with the tiniest anxiety about a flashing warning light and know she would get instant and courteous attention.

He had a particularly good reputation for dealing with the elderly of Fethering. When servicing was due, he would pick up the cars from their homes and return them there. And for those who needed one, a courtesy car was always available. It wasn’t a flashy new one with the Shefford’s logo on the side, but it was always safe and reliable. And for his less mobile pensionable customers, Bill would personally fill up their cars with fuel, so that they didn’t have to get out. He was one of the good guys.

So, Carole’s first instinct on seeing her vandalized car was to walk Gulliver back to High Tor – she didn’t want him to get cut by shards of glass – then return to the car and drive it straight to Shefford’s.