The end of Beverley

Three weeks ago, my car was stolen from the street outside of my house by three 13-year-olds from Patchway, and recovered by the police the following night after a chase from Nailsea to Brisol, involving a helicopter. Three days ago, I finally received a call from my insurance company's engineer to confirm that the car was a "total loss".

He asked how much I thought it was worth. I said "maybe six or seven hundred". "You'll be disappointed then", he replied. He offered me £225. Apparently, they don't take into account the fact that there were only 55000 miles on the clock, and instead value it like any other K-reg, which would have an average mileage of more like 155000. The fact that it has an automatic gearbox means nothing either.

This evening, I went to the compound that it had been recovered to, to remove any personal items. I was hoping to collect about twenty cassette tapes, a bluetooth headset, a maglite, some maps, and my cup-holder. None of them were there. All that remained was a Brighton & Hove Albion ashtray that Jonny had bought me for my birthday, just one week after they had dived their way to victory against Bristol City in the play-off final. I left it in the car.

So, in the end it was a pointless journey, although it was good to see the car again for one last time and immediately obvious why it was a write-off. I knew that they'd forced the ignition with a screwdriver, but it turns out that they also smashed the front end in, no doubt at the climax of the chase. I wonder if i'd be entitled to any royalties if it ends up on "Police, Camera, Action".

They also put another big chunk in the driver's door, to join the one that appeared after a shift at work about 18 months ago. I'm really glad now that I never got round to getting that fixed.

I was never very emotionally attached to the car when it was alive. Jonny, H & Kim once named it 'Beverley', probably because they wanted 'Bianca' to have a friend, or something. I refused to concede that my car should be called Beverley, or even that it should be a 'she'. However, after seeing it sitting there helpless in the drizzle, ready to be sent to the breakers to be crushed into a tiny cube, it somehow seems more appropriate in her death. So, here's a picture of Beverley in the prime of her life, at the Gower...

To be honest, I'm not really that disappointed, as a red automatic Ford Fiesta was never my first choice for a car. I've owned it for the last four years because my generous Grandmother gave it to me when my last car died. Well, guess what? My very generous grandma has come up trumps again. When she heard about my plight she saw it as the perfect excuse to go out and buy herself a 'smart car', which she's been hankering for for some time. So, yet again, I've been lucky enough to inherit her car. It's the one in the foreground...

And yes, you've guessed it. It's an automatic.