‘I ain’t being mean, love, but we’ll lose thousands off the bloody thing as soon as we drive it off the forecourt. If we get something a couple of years old, it’s not only more practical, but financially sensible,’ Stanley said.

‘Nope, they’ve all been a load of old shit we’ve seen and my mind’s made up now. I’ve decided I want a new Jaguar. In all the years I’ve been married to you, Stanley, we’ve never had a decent motor. Do you really begrudge me this one small pleasure after everything you’ve put me through recently? Well, do you?’

‘No, dear,’ Stanley replied miserably.

Ten minutes later, Stanley pulled up outside Grange Motors in Brentwood and nearly jumped out of his skin as Joycie firstly shrieked, then began clapping her hands with glee.

‘That’s the one I want. Look, that one over there.’

Stanley got out of the car and stared in horror at the brand-new, white Jaguar XJ6 that Joycie was pointing at. ‘It looks like a wedding car. People will think I’m a bleedin’ chauffeur or something if they see me driving about in that, Joycie.’

‘Well, you are one. You’re my bloody chauffeur. I’ll have to get you one of them peak caps that they wear, so you really look the part,’ Joyce cackled as she ran over to the gleaming XJ6.

‘Oh, Stanley, I love it. I’ll look the bee’s knees in this. You’ll have to drive me over to Rita and Hilda’s straight away, so I can show it off.’

Seeing the price of the car, Stanley had one of his little coughing fits. Their old house in Upney had cost them less.

‘Can I be of any assistance to you?’ asked a well-spoken young man in a pinstriped suit. He had clocked the old banger the couple had pulled up in, so knew he had no chance of clinching a sale.

‘Yes, we want to buy this car,’ Joyce said proudly in her poshest tone.

The man smiled politely. He was used to dealing with messers; it was, unfortunately, all part of his job. ‘This car is brand new. Would you like me to see if I can find you something second-hand?’ he asked, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Joycie stared at the spotty-faced little shit. He wasn’t much older than her Joey. Who did he think he was talking to? ‘Do we look like vagrants or paupers?’ she snapped.

‘No, of course not. It’s just that this is the most expensive of our current range. It has all the extras on it, you see,’ the man said, horrified.

‘And that’s why we want to buy it. Now are you going to sell it to us, or not?’ Joyce asked, enjoying his obvious discomfort.

‘We haven’t even test-driven it yet, Joycie,’ Stanley mumbled.