"Used Car" (1932) by H. R. Wakefield

"Used Car" (1932) by H. R. Wakefield was collected in The Clock Strikes Twelve and Other Stories by H. Russell Wakefield, which I wrote about here.

"Used Car" (1932) reminds the reader -- at least this reader -- that Wakefield can be as droll and cold-bloodedly clever as Guy de Maupassant.

Mr Canning, on attaining a certain affluence, had built himself a very comfortable and aesthetically satisfying house in West Surrey. Like everything else about him and his, it suggested super-tax but not death duties. His social standing was well established in the neighbourhood, for Mrs Canning, a handsome, well-upholstered matron, had a shrewd Scottish flair for entertainment, and a flexible faculty for making the right people feel at home; while Angela was lively and decorative and hit balls about with superior skill. On reaching home the next evening he found these ladies had already taken a trip in the car. Their verdict was favourable. Mrs Canning liked the springing and the back seat, though one of the windows rattled, while Angela was satisfied it would do seventy. 'But,' she added, 'Jumbo loathes it.'

'How do you mean?' asked her father.

'Oh, all the time we were out he was whining and fussing, and when we got home he dashed into the garden with his tail between his legs.'

'Well, he'll have to get used to it,' said Mr Canning in a firm tone, which implied that he would stand no nonsense from that pampered and good-for-nothing liver spaniel. 'Has Tonks got that stain off the cloth?'

'He's working at it this evening,' replied Angela, 'it only wants rubbing with petrol.'

After dinner, while they were sitting round the fire in the drawing-room, Jumbo with his paws in the grate, Mr Canning tried an experiment by giving his celebrated imitation of a motor-horn, which usually aroused anticipatory ecstasies in Jumbo. This time, however, he stared up uncertainly at his master and the motions of his tail suggested no more than mere politeness. 'You see,' said Angela, who possessed a deep insight into the animal, 'he doesn't know whether you mean the old car or the new.'

'Oh rot!' said her father, 'he's sleepy.' But he was half convinced. 'Anyhow,' he presently continued, 'I'll take him with me to South Hill on Saturday. I've always said he was a perfect half-wit.'

'He's a perfect darling!' said Mrs Canning indignantly. 'Come here, my sweet.' Jumbo lurched reluctantly over to her, his demeanour suggesting that, while affectionate appreciation of his charms was gratifying, when a fellow was sleeping peacefully with his paws in the grate it was a bit thick to keep on disturbing him. 'We're going over to the Talbots' tomorrow,' Mrs Canning went on, 'but we'll be back in time to send the car to the station if it's raining.' Her husband grunted drowsily and returned to his perusal of Country Life.

'Hullo, William,' said Angela at three o'clock the next afternoon, 'I see you haven't done anything about that stain.'

The chauffeur appeared somewhat piqued at this insinuation, his manner implying that, considering he had taught Miss Angela to drive when her hair was still in a pig-tail, she ought to treat him with more deference. 'I did my best, Miss,' he replied. 'I gave it a stiff rubbing with petrol, but it didn't seem to make no difference.'

'I wonder what it is?' said Angela.

'I don't know, Miss, but last night it felt sticky to the touch.'

'It's quite dry now,' she declared. 'Have another go at it this evening. Ah, here's mother.'