He chuckled. “The movies,” he repeated. “Think of yourself as a very important person. More important than movies.”
“Well, that might take some doing.” The man reached into the car and retrieved a clipboard from the passenger seat, which was on the wrong side of the car from my perspective. “This is a gorgeous car. Are you sure this is the rental they got for me?”
He chuckled again as he handed me the clipboard and a pen. “This is not a rental. It’s yours. Just sign right there.”
“What do you mean, mine? You mean…?”
I took the clipboard and looked at the first few lines. There was my name. Rita Hayworth. Owner of a brand-new Alfa Romeo Stelvio Quadrifogio purchased for… That’s when I almost dropped the clipboard onto the sidewalk. Somebody had just bought me a car worth £85,700.
“This can’t be right, um, Eckert.”
Pointing at the signature line, he said, “Right there. Everything’s in order, Madam. Saw to it myself.” He looked at the vehicle lovingly. “A very fine auto this is. Will hug the curves between here and Hallow Hill like a lover.”
Unsure that I felt comfortable with the reference, I opted for, “No question that it’s a very fine auto. I’m just trying to process that it’s intended for me. This car costs more than I make in a year.”
“It’s yours. I’ve programmed the GPS to take you right to the shop in Hallow Hill. If you decide to stop for the night, don’t worry about the car. It’s burglar proof.”
After turning that over in my mind, I said, “I don’t think there’s any such thing, Eckert.”
He laughed as he took his copy of the paperwork and put my copies in a beautiful leather-bound satchel that also contained the owner’s manual. “Well, if you won’t be needing anything else, I’ll put these bags in the rear and leave you to get to know your new car.”
“Three things. Let me fish a jacket and scarf out of the bag before you do that. And, could you make sure I know how to turn on the GPS before you go? And how far is Hallow Hill?”
“How far? Or how long to get there?”
I rethought what I really wanted to know. “How long?”
“A little less than five hours. GPS audio is on and it’s what they call interactive? That means that you can talk to it, ask questions, and it will answer.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be more suspicious of Eckert’s assurances or the car itself. The idea of Q and A interactivity with a car was a little too sci-fi for my tastes. But again, I let it go.
I started the car and decided that it couldn’t hurt to try the interactive thing.
“Car.”
“Yes?” The car had a nice male voice with a very pleasing accent and the slightest hint of Italian. “You’re welcome to refer to me as Romeo, Madam.”
“Okay, Romeo. I prefer Rita to Madam.”
“First name basis it is then.”
I was trying to decide how I felt about sitting in a car that could converse as well as most people I know when someone behind began honking. It seemed the enchanting parking space had a lifecycle.
“Um, Romeo.”
“Yes.”
“Do you work with the GPS? Can you tell me how to get where I’m going?”
“Indeed I can, Rita. I can even drive for you if you wish.”
I blinked. “You can drive this car?” Under my breath, I muttered, “I’d like to see that.”
“So you shall.” The car sounded ecstatic.
Before I could close my self-sabotaging mouth, the car had leaped into the traffic flow and was racing toward the airport exit. To my credit, I did not scream. Although that may have been in large part because my vocal cords were frozen from fear.
I had no idea how to retake control of the car and couldn’t make my voice work to ask.
The first quarter-hour was terrifying because of the alien aspect of sitting in the front right seat while driving on the left side of the road coupled with the fact that we were in heavy airport traffic. By the time the traffic thinned out, my nerves were shot and I was longing for a place to stop. The good news was that my voice had returned. I verified that by clearing my throat.
“Okay. Romeo? That was a marvelous demonstration of self-drive car. When we leave Greater London, is there a nice inn on the way where I could eat and spend the night?”
“Yes. We’ll be there in less than an hour. The Spotted Hare. Good pub food. And they have a rare ensuite room available for the night.”
“How could you know that?” Silence. I decided to try another question. “Do they have wine?”
“The establishment does serve wine. In fact, they have your favorite black blend.”
“Are you omniscient?”
Silence.
I wanted to enjoy the scenery, but I was too preoccupied with survival to look away from the road until I felt the car slowing. We, meaning Romeo and I, were approaching a white building just ahead. The colorful hanging sign depicting a spotted hare was a sure giveaway that we’d arrived. The parking lot was crowded, but Romeo scored a spot near the front door, put the car in park and turned the engine off.
“I regret that I can’t help with luggage, Rita.”
“That’s alright. You’ve done quite enough.”
After transferring what I needed for the night from luggage to tote I used the fob to lock the car, but suspected Romeo could take care of himself. And my belongings.
As the car had said, there was a nice ensuite room available.
I’d left home at dinnertime and eaten on the plane. First class overseas will set everything you’ve ever heard about airplane food on its ear. It would have been lovely if I’d had a long stretched-out nap on the plane. The convertible seat would allow for it, but for whatever reason, maybe excitement, I didn’t sleep.
At home it was too early to get up. At the Spotted Hare it was just after lunch time and I hadn’t slept. That meant that I looked dreadful, felt worse, and was irritable, wondering what sort of hairbrained broad would throw caution and common sense to the wind.
“How can we help you?” said the rosy woman behind the bar.
“I was told you might have an ensuite room for the night?”
“In fact we do. American, are you?”
“Yes. It’s my first trip and I’ve just arrived.”
“Well, I hope you have a lovely stay. You’ll be paying with a bank card?” I nodded as I began the fishing expedition. First the purse within the tote, then the wallet within the purse. “And a quick look at your passport as well, please.”
I handed over the card and the passport. “I see you’re still serving lunch?”
“All afternoon. Will you need help with luggage?”
“No.” I lifted my tote. “I got it.”
She handed back my card and passport along with an old-fashioned metal key. “Number 21, right up those stairs.”
“I don’t suppose you do room service?”
The woman laughed and shook her head.
After consuming a ploughman’s special like I’d never eaten, I fell into a deep sleep, still in my clothes. I woke hungry just before midnight. It would be hours before food would be available. So, I rummaged through the tote and found two protein bars that had been stowed sometime in the past. I didn’t check the expiration date because I didn’t want to know. I’d rather deal with the consequences, whatever they were, than be hungry.