Of Cars and Tow Trucks by Mandy Baker Johnson

Contrary to most people with whom I go out and about, I like a good, long drink before setting off.

This particular Tuesday was no different. I drove around Nottingham picking up Auntie Mo (in the middle) and Mum (right) before setting off up the M1 towards Meadowhall.

The early morning rush was over and I settled down to cruising speed. All was well until the junction before Meadowhall.

I felt something stirring in my insides that should not be stirring. I coughed and flashed my engine malfunction light, before limping across to the hard shoulder. Lorries and other cars whooshed by, making me shudder.

I focused on trying to get my breath. I don't like it when I go wrong. Mandy and Adi like it even less.

After a few minutes Mandy turned the ignition in the hope that I might have decided to start working again. As if I have any choice in the matter.

'Come on Geoff, be a good boy,' she coaxed, patting my dashboard.

I'd have loved to oblige but I really didn't feel well.

Mandy sighed. 'I need to ring the RAC.'

We sat and waited. I wondered what would happen to me and whether it would mean a painful (for me) and expensive (for Mandy and Adi) trip to the garage. Garages are to cars what dentists are to humans. Not my favourite place to go to.

From the wriggling about on seats, I guessed my humans were all keen for the loo. Even I could see there was nowhere suitable unless they wanted to try breaking their necks climbing over a fence and steep grassy bank.

'Can you ask him to bring a Port-a-Loo with him?' one of them joked.

I'm glad I'm a car. My concerns are more running on empty than being too full.

We were all glad to see the distinctive orange van appear in my rear view mirror. I wondered what he would find when he opened my bonnet and poked about in my engine. He even plugged his laptop into the dashboard for a quick diagnostics test. Very impressive. He got me going again and followed us to Meadowhall.

Mandy sent Auntie Mo and Mum into the shopping mall, while she stayed with the RAC man who was humming and hawing, and trying to figure out a way to get us safely home.

He promised a flat bed trailer. I was ever so excited. It's not every day a car gets to ride on a flat bed. Wey hey! It was almost worth the faff of breaking down to get to ride on one of those.

This is what arrived. A van with something that folded out to create a tow truck. I was towed all the way back to Nottingham on two wheels. A least we all got safely back.

Mandy Baker Johnson is a private medical secretary and freelance writer. She enjoys blogging and recently co-authored her first book, Drawn from Words. She volunteers with a Christian charity working with women in the sex industry, and is currently researching this area for her second book.