Page 16 of Your Carriage Awaits in Crumbleton
Danny felt a bit like he was hallucinating. Michelle Singer was at the garage. It was like one of his favourite teenage fantasies was coming to life before his eyes.
Doing his best to keep his cool, Danny led her out of the garage and around the side of the building towards the secure yard at the back. How many times had he dreamed of doing this when he was a kid? Now here she was, that bouncy ponytail of hers swinging jauntily as Elvis pranced along at her heels.
Danny couldn’t wait to see the look on Michelle’s face. Any minute now, all his dreams were going to come true. All those hours he’d spent with his head under a bonnet, helping his dad and learning everything he could from the best teacher he knew… and finally, the girl of his dreams was going to get to witness the fruits of his labour.
Next to him, Michelle came to an abrupt halt, and Danny’s grin grew to face-aching proportions. He glanced at her, crossing his fingers behind his back.
Why did this matter so much?
Whatever Michelle thought, she was just some random girl he’d had a crush on at school, wasn’t she? One he hadn’t had the guts to talk to.
But itdidmatter. Because no matter what his dad said when he was ranting about the Singers, Michelle had always been special for some reason. What she thought mattered more than anything… even if he had no idea why!
‘Danny… what onearth?’ she whispered.
‘Good, eh?’ he said, feeling weirdly shy.
Michelle was now staring open-mouthed at his pride and joy. Her look was one of shock and awe—bordering on reverence. Morning light skimmed across the bonnets and curves of the rows of vintage cars in front of them, catching on chrome and glossy paintwork in a quiet kind of magic.
‘Good? I feel like I’ve slipped into an alternate universe!’ she laughed. ‘No offence, but I thought this place was all about MOTs and breakdowns. Somewhere people come when they need an oil change… not… this?’
She waved her hands expansively, and the sound of another delighted laugh made something in Danny’s stomach flip.
‘Can I take a closer look?’
‘Sure, be my guest,’ said Danny. He hurried to the security keypad and punched in the numbers to release the gate.
Michelle wandered into the yard as if in a trance, heading for the rows of gleaming classic cars with her mouth still slightly agape. She gazed in wonder at the sunshine-yellow 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air sitting proudly in the front row, its fins gleaming. Next to it was a powder-blue Ford Thunderbird from the same era, looking like it had just rolled off the production line.
Danny watched as Michelle drifted past a pristine Morris Minor convertible, her fingers trailing reverently along itscream-coloured bonnet. He shivered, somehow feeling that light touch on the back of his neck.
‘They’re incredible,’ she breathed, moving deeper into the collection. ‘How many are there?’
‘Two dozen,’ said Danny, moving to join her.
‘What are they for?’ she said, admiring the sleek Jaguar E-Type before moving on to the bottle-green Austin-Healey with its wire wheels.
‘For?’ he laughed. ‘Loving. Fixing. Adoring. Dad’s been collecting them for years. He started when I was a kid.’
Danny had spent hours helping to restore these beauties. For years now, he’d wanted to expand the business to include them… but his dad had always been content to stick to the status quo and simply lavish the collection with love.
‘Oh my goodness, look at this stunner,’ said Michelle, nodding at an early 1960s London taxi with its unmistakable rounded silhouette. ‘Dad would love it!’
Danny nodded, but Michelle suddenly looked awkward, clearly regretting the unguarded mention of her father while she was on enemy territory.
‘Gah, I hardly know where to look first,’ she said, covering her blunder by turning away to stare at the elegant Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow instead.
Danny chuckled. He’d always thought the Rolls looked like it should belong to royalty.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I probably sound like a total idiot.’
‘You really don’t,’ said Danny, beaming at her. Her delight was a relief… a balm, even! There was something about her reaction that was just confirming that Michelle Singer was exactly the kind of person he’d always thought she was.
Hoped she was.
Michelle grinned at him before continuing to tiptoe reverently between the cars. When she reached the far corner of the yard, Danny saw her come to a standstill again.
‘Do you have a favourite?’ she asked, glancing back at him with something like wonder in her eyes.
