Fiesta!
When I first met her at university, and for about ten years after, Ali had this Ford Fiesta that she’d painted with a roller, dark blue. With its matt finish and angular construction it was probably invisible to radar, a one litre stealth hatchback. The filthy little engine sat in the middle of its spacious bay like a lump of coal and its wasp-in-a-biscuit-tin sound was easily recognisable as she pulled into the drive.
It broke down and blew up but refused to die. It wasn’t flash or fast but it went from A to B and nobody got hurt. As Ali put it, “It exists. It just…is. It’s always been crap and it’ll always be crap and I don’t care.”
