My sister has our customer by the tie and is making pouty faces at him. I am the oily rag to her mechanic. Or, perhaps, I am the monkey here as, clearly, my sister is happy in her role as the organ grinder. I decide not to share that thought with her, but concentrate on getting a streak-free finish instead.

When we’ve finished he hands over twenty quid and tells us to keep the change. He takes a photo of us both on his camera bent over his bonnet in a seductive manner for another fiver. He also wants to know whether this will be available every weekend.

‘Not on your nelly!’ I want to say, but smile sweetly as Lauren does instead. This is one step nearer to Peru for me and if this is what it takes to get me there, then that’s fine by me.

Jaguar Man jumps in his spruce car and speeds away. I’m not even sure that he’s noticed how brilliantly it’s been washed. Then I look up and notice that there is a little queue of three cars forming.

‘We’ll split them,’ Lauren says. ‘Let’s do a great job, but remember we don’t need to be able to eat our dinner off the damn things.’

‘Right.’ And two more male customers grinning broadly roll into my drive.

By five o’clock we’ve done fifteen cars and have had the same number of commemorative photographs taken. We turn away five who are waiting, promising them that business will resume tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.

I glance anxiously at my watch. ‘We need to get this cleared up before Greg comes back.’ If I could have done this somewhere else I would have, but the logistics of getting water to car stumped us. I’m just hoping that Greg sticks to his usual routine – and there’s no reason why he shouldn’t.

‘He’ll definitely go fishing tomorrow?’

‘Hail, rain or shine.’

‘Good,’ Lauren says, and I couldn’t agree more. I have been a fishing widow all of our married life and, finally, some good is coming of it.

All of our satisfied customers have given us more than our suggested five pounds. I count out our booty. ‘A hundred and ninety-five pounds.’ I’m open mouthed.

‘In one afternoon,’ Lauren reminds me. ‘We’ll have a good crack at it tomorrow. We could do another four hundred pounds if business is as brisk.’

‘Fingers crossed,’ I say.

Lauren puts her arm round me. ‘Then you’re halfway there, Annie.’

Constricted by my bunny corset, my heart pounds with excitement. Halfway there!

Chapter 51

Chapter 51

My husband comes home from fishing. When he walks through the door, my sister and I are sitting in the kitchen – fully clothed – innocently drinking cups of tea.

‘What?’ he says as we turn to look at him.

‘Nothing.’ I smile sweetly.

‘You both look guilty.’