Part 27: Olive packed a picnic lunch…

Olive prepared a picnic hamper.

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Olive curled her tongue around her lips in startled vexation. She dropped her suitcases on the garage floor and stood thinking, her bent forefinger against her lower lip.
Then: “Well, I’ll just have to take it anyway—sorry—can’t wait—I’m a saleslady and have an important meeting at Dover.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, Miss. Hanson,” said the supervisor civilly, glancing at the storage tag on Olive’s car.

“Not to worry. If the car is too bad, I’ll take a train.”

She paid for overnight storage without complaining, though since the mechanic hadn’t repaired her car, she thought the charge was unjust. She thrust the suitcases into the car and chugged out, the motor spitting. At the first lay-by, she opened the car’s bonnet and fitted the loose spark plug cap properly into place. When she moved on, the motor ran smoothly again.

She drove out of Sidcup, back toward Chipwick and The Stables. There, she ran the car into that thick grove of oaks and maples she’d investigated earlier and parked the car in a grassy space beside the woodland track.
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The day before, she’d prepared a picnic hamper and left it on the back seat of her car. While waiting for the cover of darkness, she laid a light robe over the suitcases. From the hamper, she took a roast chicken, a box of biscuits, a bottle of coke, and a packet of potato chips. These she spread on the grass-a picnic lunch.
 
To be continued… 
The real world:
 
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Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
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Image by Chris Gehrmann from Pixabay