Moving the project to Westmead

The car is ready to be moved, hopefully to Chris’s garage, the tub can be transferred to my lock-up to be stripped and tidied, but the real  positive bonus are the ideas that have emerged regarding the attachment of the screen to the scuttle.                      

Chris has also sold a huge, very special BMW 820 CSi to Danny Brennan that up until recently had been occupying his garage. This, obviously, now means that his garage is free so we can begin serious work on the new chassis.

But, bummer! just as we thought we had gained an excellent workshop space Danny arrived at the Oak to return the BMW, claiming that it was a shed. Chris had not had the most relaxing social evening up until then for several reasons, namely, our usual ‘Roy Castle’ corner (called by this name because of the smokers that inhabit the space) had been invaded by a rival team, comprising of loud, overweight, tattooed drinkers making the small space over crowded, unbearably noisy. The risk of a turf war was a distinct possibility. “Brown” had pitched up (this person is an irritating, pestering fool who on a previous occasion was locked in a cupboard by John Lowton for excessive mythering), along with the Landlord, Jimmy the Axe and Carlos who were all ‘pertinent and relevant’. They had spent the entire afternoon at the Wigan Beer Festival; as a consequence they were talking in tongues.

 Finally, Doctor Dave joined the group waxing lyrical about a recent visit to Seville with his estranged wife Julie. He claimed that they got on really well throughout the whole trip. This was entirely due to the fact that she usually passed out before 9.30pm, having enjoyed the liquid delights of the city for the best part of the day. This assured the prospect of midnight fights were very remote. The Oak resembled a zoo. So, the evening for Chris, amidst all of this mayhem was bad enough, but when Danny had wanted to return the car he became almost suicidal deciding to leave prematurely under a dark cloud of doom.

I am dreading phoning Chris in the morning, he may have taken his own life.