I was in a Land Rover showroom the other day. It is my guilty pleasure to test-drive cars I can’t afford but with a genuine aspiration to one day own one.
I have too many children and animals and a battered nine-year-old Discovery, so I was being true to my own desires. Sue me.
Allow me to set the scene for something that happens often but shouldn’t. Ever. I had driven the car and made buying noises. The husband was not in the car for the test drive. We sat down in the plush surroundings, drinking their coffee, discussing when I might ever be able to buy the car. My car.
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