A Christmas Tale (©John Chatwin)
Trevor and Andy peered between the two houses. Sure enough as advised there was a shed down the driveway. ‘D’you think this is the house` asked Trev. Andy replied that the address was right and if the rumors were correct the Morgan should be in that shed.
They approached the front door and rang the bell. A pleasant lady answered the door and smiled. Trevor introduced himself and explained that he and his friend were following up a story that an old three-wheeler was in her shed. “Oh that old thing” she smiled and asked them to come in.
She was Margaret and explained whilst making tea that that the Morgan was her late husband’s. The two friends admired the photographs on the sitting room wall several of which showed a smiling couple, one whom was clearly Margaret some years ago, in front a smart Super Sports. Margaret appeared with tea and cakes which they gratefully accepted and sat smiling at each other.
At length Trevor asked what had become of the old car. Margaret explained that it was still in its garage at the bottom of the garden. They were both excited when she offered to show them. With much trepidation they followed her down the garden. Margaret explained that as her dear late husband had died two days before Christmas some eight years ago the garage was not used. There in the gloom stood the Morgan, very sad in its dirt and cobwebs. Andy spotted a small urn on the seat, he looked at Margaret who explained and said Yes, it’s Tom. He always went for a drive on Christmas day so I put him there and left him in peace. She wiped a tear from her eye and the two men thought it wise to return to the house.
Over more tea she said that she thought he had been there long enough and in answer to their question agreed that it might be nice if the old car could again give someone some pleasure. After negotiating a price, Tom was placed on the shelf by some pictures of his car which was then loaded on to the trailer. They left promising to keep in touch and to show Margaret the restored result.
A year passed and as most of the work apart from the new paint job had been cosmetic the time came to test drive. This all went well and the two pals agreed it had been a worthwhile operation; so it was decided that as Christmas was but two days away they would again visit Margaret and show her the restored car.
The next morning being cold but dry. Trev opened the garage and to his horror the Mog had gone. Andy was called and in short order the police. Evidence was sought, locks and keys were examined but there was nothing to indicate what had happened. Photographs were asked for but as they had planned a finished photo shoot there was little other than progress pictures. Andy remembered that in the old garage was a series of pictures of the complete car, so it was decided that these would be better than nothing.
The two friends despondently made their way to Margaret’s and over tea and mince pies told the sorry tale. She was as upset as they and agreed to them taking the photographs. They trooped down the garden and opened the shed door. The three of them stood open mouthed, for there covered in cobwebs with its old faded paintwork sat the Mog.
Closer examination found the urn, back on the seat…
First published in the Morgan Three Wheeler Club’s Bulletin
[Traditions are traditions, and shouldn’t be taken lightly. And, Morgan traditions are especially good. Happy Holidays!! Mark]
Me thinks that the answer’s in the eggnog