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‘I’ll have to check the schedules. Can I call you back in five minutes?’
I can’t concentrate on the rest of my checklist while I’m waiting. The questions that are racing round my head are, ‘What if I’m not losing my touch at all? What if I’ve been sabotaged every time? But why would Emily want to do something like that? What on earth could I have done to upset her?’
I’m no closer to answering any of them when Ian calls back.
‘Sorry, Sophie,’ he tells me. ‘I’ve got the stock, but I don’t have any drivers that can get out there again today. If you can pick it up, you’re welcome to it.’
‘Put them aside. I don’t care what happens, or who calls you, or anything. Those bottles are mine, okay?’
He laughs. ‘No worries. Understood.’
Now all I have to do is work out how to get from Sevenoaks to Lewisham and back with sixty bottles of Champagne when I don’t have any transport. I search for car hire places and I’m relieved to find a couple nearby. However, neither of them has any cars on site unless they’re pre-booked, so that proves to be a dead end. I check to see whether I can get back to Uckfield and pick up my car, but that will take way too long. I really don’t want to involve Toby in this mess, as it looks unprofessional and he’s got other stuff to worry about, but I’m running out of options.
‘Toby, I’m really sorry to bother you,’ I call to him, ‘but there’s a slight issue with the Champagne, and I need to go to Lewisham to sort it out. I’ve tried both the car hire places I’ve found on the internet without any joy. Do you know of anywhere else round here I might be able to rent a car?’
He considers for a while. ‘To be honest, I didn’t know there were any car hire places around here at all. I’d lend you mine, but I need it myself and I’m not even going in that direction, otherwise I’d give you a lift.’
‘Okay. Don’t worry. It’s my problem to solve, not yours.’
Shit. What am I going to do? In desperation I load up a site featuring cars and vans for sale, put in Toby’s postcode and a one-mile radius and wait for the results. There are only three. A Range Rover and a Lexus that are both way too expensive, and a battered Transit van that would make my old Land Rover look smart. At least it’s not much more than the car hire would have been, and I only need it to get me to Lewisham and back. I have no idea what I’ll do with it afterwards, but I’ll cross that bridge later. Maybe I’ll be able to flog it to Gerald. He seems to have a penchant for beaten-up old vehicles. The thought makes me smile.
I call the number and a man answers. After introductions and a brief conversation, he tells me that the van is still available. He’s a little surprised when I ask if I can see it immediately, but agrees and gives me the name and address of the café he works at. I’m in luck; it’s literally next door, so I arrange to meet him in the car park behind, where he says the van is parked.
Toby has obviously been listening to my conversation and lets me out of the back door of his studio without a word. To be fair, he doesn’t need to say anything, as the crinkle of amusement in his eyes tells me exactly what he’s thinking. I scan the parking area behind the building and the van is not hard to spot. It looks even more ropey in the flesh than it did in the pictures, but as long as it’s roadworthy and will get me out of the hole I’m in, I don’t care. As I’m walking towards it, the back door of the café opens and a man in a chef’s uniform comes out. He has close-cropped hair and a scar across one of his cheeks, and is definitely not the sort of person I’d even consider buying a used vehicle from if I wasn’t desperate.
‘Are you Sophie?’ he asks.
‘That’s me,’ I reply. ‘You must be Matt.’
‘Pleased to meet you. This is the van. Can I ask why you’re so interested? If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like the sort of buyer I would have expected.’
He’s got a point. I’m wearing my work uniform of tailored blouse with matching jacket and skirt, with kitten heels underneath. I’d match the van better if I was wearing my overalls.
‘It’s an emergency.’ I tell him, honestly. ‘I’m doing an event for Toby Roberts, and sixty bottles of Champagne that are supposed to be here are in Lewisham. I tried renting a car, but no joy. So, your van is the only option. I assume it will make it to Lewisham and back?’
‘Oh, it’ll make it, all right. I know it looks shabby, but the mechanicals and structural parts are all good. I’m only selling it because my fiancée doesn’t like it, so we go everywhere in her van and I never use it.’ He indicates a shiny modern van with ‘Daisy’s Diner’ written on it alongside a logo of two interlocking Ds.
‘Are you saying’, he continues, ‘that you only need it for one journey? What are you going to do with it afterwards?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t got that far.’
‘Look, Toby’s my neighbour, and this thing he’s doing is for charity, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Take the van. Do what you need to do, replace the fuel you’ve used, and then bring it back, okay? It seems silly to buy it just for one journey.’
‘But what if I have an accident or something? I’d only be covered third party on my insurance.’
He laughs loudly. ‘If you crash it, you’ve bought it. Okay?’
‘Are you sure?’ I can’t believe this man I’ve never met before is just lending me his van, however shabby it is.
‘Absolutely. Here’s the key. Give me a call when you’re done and I’ll come out and get it from you.’
I don’t need to be told twice. Thanking him profusely, I take the key from him and hop into the cab. Unlike the Land Rover, I can’t see out of the back, but Tony went through a phase when he was certain I’d need to be pulling trailers, so we spent much more time than I wanted to reversing trailers around the yard while watching in the wing mirrors. This is going to be much easier than that. The engine starts with a clatter, I reverse it swiftly out of its space, and I’m soon on the motorway heading for Lewisham.
18
