Walking around the car it seemed to be OK, but driving it was another matter.

Unlike the last Alfa I’d driven this one rattled, badly. At high speed it seemed fine. Driving around the nearby housing estate it produced more noise than my old Golf : then there was the engine management system.

It started off saying there was a front bulb out, which became a rear fog light. The key didn’t lock the car remotely so we tried with the key in the lock. That seemed to work fine. Then Richard opened the passenger door and got back in as I said proudly the driver’s side was locked. Martin tried to get into the back door but that was locked. I unlocked the doors and the rear door stayed closed. We tried to open it from inside and it still stayed shut.

“I can put it on the ramp for you and we can have a look”, said the salesman happily. We agreed he should do that and call me later as we retired home no closer to a car…

With lunch on the go I opened the door to see Joanne dressed up, makeup on and case packed for her to go to the local theatre where her ballet class was doing two shows today. After standing in the porch and trying to go en pointe in her shoes she rushed off to appear before her adoring audience with a cry over her shoulder of, “don’t get red, get a grey car !”.

There was nothing for it : I had to face up that I needed to get one and needed one now. I’d purposely only taxed the Golf for six months and that was about to run out. So, off I went up the motorway to visit a dealer with a larger pool of cars to look at.

As it turned out they only had one which was the spec. I wanted. 2 litre, 5 door and, oddly, grey. After checking it over on the forecourt we went for a test drive. No rattles, an engine management system which only wanted to tell me the outside temperature and gently remind me if a door was open (which they all did) meant that this was the one.

In what seemed a few moments the deal was done and I was driving back in a car which was more rattling and sulky. Six days to go.