Buying a new(er) car from a garage is perhaps never the easiest things in the world. This time, though, from the Saturday afternoon when we’d set out to have a look at what might be available (but were definitely ‘NOT going to buy a car today’) to Tuesday afternoon, a few hours before we were due to collect the new(er) car, things seemed to have gone remarkably smoothly.

First of all, the garage offered us far more for Hilary’s old Ford Ka, which we were part-exchanging than we had expected; secondly, when we went online and transferred money from a savings account into my current account to pay for the car it had, miraculously, appeared in my account instantly – rather than disappearing into the ether for four or five days before reappearing, like it usually seems to; and third, everything had gone smoothly with the Insurance Company and, because of the English Bank Holiday holding up the post, they had agreed to fax confirmation of cover to the garage so that the car could be taxed and ready for us on Tuesday.

So, all set! Nothing to go wrong! Or so we thought.

And then, on Tuesday afternoon, three hours before we were due to collect the car I had a phone call from the garage: ‘We still haven’t received your insurance details.’

‘But on Sunday they said they’d fax them straight away.’ I said.

‘No,’ they said, ‘definitely not arrived.’

So I phoned the Insurance Company, pushed the buttons and waited 17 minutes on hold to speak to someone. Eventually someone answered, was very helpful and faxed the insurance stuff through whilst I was still on the phone and confirmed that the fax had been successful.

I phoned the garage. ‘No, still not arrived.’

I phone the Insurance Company. Only 13 minutes on hold this time. Of course, I spoke to a different person and had to explain the whole thing again. This person confirmed that the fax had been sent but that it would take up to 30 minutes in ‘the system’ before actually being sent.

So I waited half an hour, phoned the garage and . . . ‘No, still not here!’

What am I going to do? Then a brainwave. See if they can fax it to me, then I can take it into the garage. So, I resurrected my old fax machine which hadn’t been used for at least 3 years, connected it to a phone line . . .

. . . and phoned the Insurance Company again. Eleven minutes on hold, so getting better. A different person. Explained it all again – and got them to send me the fax instead of the garage.

And sure enough, it arrived a few minutes later.

‘Phew!’ All sorted then – and I raced into the garage with it.

Then, at the appointed hour, Hilary and I arrived ready to take delivery of the new car. We did the paperwork, signed the log book etc and then I handed over my debit card – just a few moments to go!

No! My debit card was referred for security reasons because, on my priest’s stipend, I very rarely use it to pay such a large amount and the bank thought my card might have been stolen. No problem – except it took ages (at least ten minutes) – and the salesman was put on hold several times. Then I had to produce my driving license, then the bank wanted to talk to me and ask me some security questions . . . .

. . . .And then, just as they were about to issue the authorisation code so that the transaction could go through . . . . there was a power cut – and the phone went dead! Aaaaaargh!

It looked as though we were going to have to go through the whole thing again the next day . . . until . . .someone said that the portable card swiper thing had a dedicated phone line and didn’t go through the switchboard – and therefore might work.

So, they phoned the bank referral number again, eventually got the authorisation code and the transaction went through. What a relief! And, literally just as we finished, the card swiper declared that it’s battery had run out.

So, just in the nick of time!

Sometimes I wonder if it’s just me!