‘Just a piece of old tin,’ Aunt Sina famously observed, after my father misjudged his parking angle and cut a deep gouge down the side of the pride and joy in which she and Uncle Tony were about to set off for Europe with caravan in tow.
Most of the cars that have passed through my hands rattled along happily in the piece of old tin category and I have never let the occasional accrochage cause me too much anguish. Bumps are what bumpers are for, no?
I made this point to the couple who were enjoying sandwiches on the sea front in their Honda Civic when we gave it a gentle kiss on the number plate preparatory to my exit from a tight space. The impact would not have raised a ripple in a tea cup, but their faces contorted in horror at the outrage.
‘Will you be suing for whiplash?’ I wondered, after taking a close-up photo of their bumper as evidence of nil damage. An explosion of chicken and coleslaw looked imminent.
Not long after this encounter my bicycle fell over while I was trying to load it on the roof rack of our long-suffering estate car. Oh well, who apart from God is going to notice a small dent in the roof?
Santander Consumer plc, that’s who. And I now understand why owners of cars less than five years old react like virgins in the typing pool to any suggestion of bodily contact. Most of these cars are in hock to a finance company, and experienced owners are aware that on the day of reckoning when the finance deal ends they will face an unenviable choice: pay more than the car is worth – the so-called ‘balloon’ payment – to buy it outright, or give it back to the finance company, who will send a bloodhound with instructions to sniff out blemishes. These will be the excuse for an extortionate penalty invoking the ‘reasonable wear and tear’ clause in the contract.
All this a customer service operative explained to us as our ‘arrangement’ with Santander drew to a close. Someone will come and take the car away, she said, and after inspection you will be informed of how much you owe. What recourse do we have if we don’t agree? None. This is not a negotiation. If we don’t like the outcome, can we have the car back? Negative.
What’s reasonable wear and tear after four years and 50000 miles of motoring? ‘Well, scratches are not necessary, are they?’ explained the woman, who obviously hasn’t driven the country lanes of Devon.
‘Mind the hedge!’ wife yelled, as I took the car out for its last booze cruise to Tesco.
In advance of the bloodhound’s arrival we busied ourselves with hose and hoover, lifting up bits of carpet for the first time in an auto-archaeological dig that revealed golf tees, lolly sticks, bits of Christmas tree and a stubborn crust of chewing gum and Welsh sand: a story of our lives. The mobile valet came in to buff up the trim but there was no hiding the evidence of dogs jumping in and out of the boot for four years. Why didn’t we cut their toenails?
little piggy off to market …
The bloodhound was in and out in the time it took him to make a wraparound video recording of the car and load it onto his truck: about 15 minutes. ‘I suppose you might get away with it,’ he said with a shrug that was not designed to inspire confidence. The jury is out.