Those fleeting ‘made it’ moments…
I have totally buried the memories of the brief affair I had with the Jag. I had no right to as I was not a gangster, a train-robber or a minor member of the aristocracy. I was just a young copper with some spare money and a growing appreciation of motor vehicles. I don’t even know how I came to buy that particular make. It’s as if it simply conjured itself into being and placed itself right there in the shadows of my past.
The first thing that I noticed about the Jaguar was that it different. It had leather seats. What’s my thing with leather?
I put it down to the smell, the reek of opulence, me getting above my station. I don’t know how I came to buy it (if such a short period from acquisition to sale could be classed as ownership). It was a private sale…
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