Bad start to 2018

You remember I said that the boring subject of Volvos was now over? Well I lied.

A friend of mine drove me to Stroud to collect my latest Volvo in his smart Mercedes (almost having another head-on collision en route) where it was waiting for me on the forecourt of the seller. I already had the keys from when I bought it last week (the seller was out), and it was taxed, insured and allotted a parking space back in Bath.

He parked up and I almost told him to go back to Bath immediately. Good job he stayed - it wouldn't start.

After ten attempts to get the thing running, I was beside myself with fury and called the seller to tell her so. I demanded my money back - in cash - by the end of the weekend, and she agreed.

I then got back into the Mercedes in the blackest of black moods and we drove away. We stopped at a pub on the outskirts of Stroud where I bought my friend and his wife lunch by way of compensation for the lift. I started to drink beer because I knew I was not driving and needed to drown my sorrows and angst.

Halfway down the second pint, I had a text message from the seller's husband saying that he had gone home and immediately started the car, so would not be giving me my money back. He also insisted that I should stop 'harrassing' his wife and told me that the car was now on the road, all signed over to me in my name.

I tried calling him but he had blocked my number, so I told him by text that I would return in 20 minutes and I wanted him to be there.

He only answered the door after I began hammering on it, then he stood on the threshold step to put himself at the same eye-level as me. He is a short-arse.

"I have one question for you," I began. "Did you start the car on the slope, or did you roll it down on the flat?"

He had left so little petrol in it that I had thought it highly likely that it was a case of fuel-starvation, but I was unwilling to roll it down the hill onto the road in case it wouldn't start down there. It would have blocked the road and - as already said - the car was now in my name.

He looked me in the eye and insisted that he had started it on the slope. He was lying.

If the bloody little skinflint had put a bit more petrol in it, he would have saved all of us from three hours of stress, hassle and inconvenience - I would have happily driven it away and never bothered him again.

Now I have put air into the tyres and topped up various fluids, it drives very well. The following morning it started first time - with £40 worth of fuel in it.

Last night, I parked it on a slope. I have at least one weekend of mild stress ahead before I get in it to start it on Monday...

Just as I finished writing this, the car above parked outside - I was alerted by the growl. My Volvo is silver too.