I want to ‘convert’ from my old soft-top BMW to a gleaming Mini

I WANT a mini. A mini car, you’ll be relieved to learn, not skirt. I really want a Mini. I have no chance of achieving a Mini. If the force is with me, I might be able to afford one in four years’ time, but financial constraints don’t stop me looking at that ad of the Minis, falling domino-fashion, and picking out the one I’d like to be driving tomorrow.

Scrupulous honesty demands that I confess to owning a usable car. Please note that ‘usable’ is not the same as ‘perfectly good,’ because the latter it most definitely isn’t.

The usable car is a convertible BMW, and confessing the make and model establishes me as rich, having notions, and being discontented with something everybody else would be grateful for a sniff at. Got that off your chest, have you? Good. Then, we’ll proceed. This is a Beamer I have known and loved. This is a Beamer that, nine years ago, my husband brought home, having traded in my previous car without my knowledge or permission, he being the kind of guy who, if he decides to do you a favour, does you a favour with boots on. The great thing about a convertible is that you can have the roof down even at dawn on quite cold days, as long as you roll the windows up and have the heat on. The bad thing about a convertible, contrariwise, is that in a downpour it’s like being inside a drum with a manic tympanist beating on its outside.