Ashley grinned at me and hugged her friend.
“Judy, this is Nicky, my… friend, from England; Nicky, this is my best friend, Judy Nixon, founder member and current president of The Loser’s Club!”
I shook hands with her. “It’s nice to meet you, Judy, I’m very pleased to finally meet some of Ashley’s friends!”
She beamed at me, and looked at Ashley’s secret little smile.
“Whoo, that accent, how do you stop yourself climbing all over him… wait… NO, you already have, Ashley, you slut! Fucking-A, girl!”
Ashley was blushing scarlet, but grinning slyly, and Judy started demanding details. I felt I should say something at this point.
“Hello, excuse me, I’m still here…” and Ashley picked up on what I was saying, damping down her friend with a promise to reveal all another time.
“I brought you the English assignment, Jude, it’s not due back ’til Monday, so no need to go crazy. There’s also a History assignment, and oh, look, a math assignment!”
Judy took the papers from her and flicked through them
“Thanks Ash, I was afraid I was going to have to fuck that creep to get my English Lit grade, you saved me from a completely forgettable experience!”
The two of them hugged and we left as we had to be back to help finish dinner. On the way down the stairs, she explained why she was bringing assignments to her friend.
Apparently Judy likes to wear very short skirts, and very skimpy underwear, and the English teacher always made her sit in the front row, on the pretext that she needed watching. During the lesson, he would gradually slide down lower and lower in his seat until he was staring up her skirt at her crotch. She had objected, vocally, and at some length, using certain short and expressively robust Anglo-Saxon words, and had gotten herself suspended for a week, hence the side-trip for us.
As we were walking back to the car, I saw that one of the double-garage doors was up, and there was a man with the bonnet up on a black Range Rover Vogue, looking baffled. Ashley waved at him.
“Hi, Dr. Nixon! Problems?”
He waved back distractedly.
“Hello Ashley, yeah, something’s wrong with the suspension, it’s not adjusting, and I just spoke with the dealership, their so-called experts were out here earlier, they couldn’t work out what the problem was, and now they’re saying 4 weeks for a replacement air-suspension. 4 weeks!”
She nudged me. “Nick knows British cars, do you want him to have a look?”
Dr. Nixon Looked at me. “Are you a mechanic, young man?”
“Yes I am,” I replied, “newly qualified, but I have a Jaguar-Land Rover certification.”
He looked closely at me.
“English, eh? Well, you should know about these cars then. What’s your opinion? New air-suspension system?”
I took the keys from him and turned the engine on and pressed the EAS button three times to jack it up fully, but not feeling the car rising up.
I went to the front of the car and unclipped the plastic cover to the suspension compressor at the left side of the engine bay, undid the three mounting nuts with a spanner from the open tool kit on the bench next to the car, and disconnected the outlet hose from the compressor for the air-suspension system. I could feel the motor gritting and vibrating, and when I put my finger over the outlet nozzle I wasn’t feeling anything like the pressure I should have felt if it were working properly.
I grinned over at Judy’s dad. “This is your problem, Dr. Nixon; the compressor is basically dead; if you touch it you can feel the impeller gritting and knocking, so the seals and bearings have failed. The good news is, they’re nowhere near as expensive as a replacement air-system. They’re about 250 in England, so probably about $500 here. It’s a common fault with the Vogue and HSE 4 and 4. 6 litre EAS models, but not in vehicles as young as this; they usually fail somewhere around 150, 000 miles. The good news is, it’s easily fixed. If you get your dealer to order you a replacement Land Rover compressor, not an after-market one, I’ll come back and put it in for you. In the meantime, don’t drive it, you’ll permanently damage the suspension, and a complete replacement system costs 4, 000 in England, so it would probably be at least double that here.”
Dr. Nixon smiled at me, pulled out his cell and dialled a number, when it answered he handed the phone to me.
“Tell him what you just told me, and give him the part you need!”
I spoke briefly to the parts bloke on the other end, reading out the part number on the compressor body, and he gave me a 48 hour collection time.
I handed Dr. Nixon his phone and he grinned at me.
“What’s your name, son?”
“My name’s Nick, Nick Davies, I’m staying with Ashley and her Mother, I’m …” Ashley jumped in with “… a family friend from England!”
“Well, Nick, Nick Davies, if you can diagnose the problem in a few seconds, perhaps you and I should have a talk. The so-called specialists from the dealership were here for over an hour, and all they could come up with was that I should probably have the entire suspension system replaced! Are you planning on staying in Albany?”
I told him I was, that I was waiting for my paperwork, that I was an American citizen but brought up in England, so I had to wait for my papers and qualifications to be issued and assessed, and that I was in the process of getting my Social Security number.
“OK Nick, if you come back on Thursday, put that back in for me and get it to work, I think we should have a talk afterwards.”
I promised him I’d come as soon as the part was ready, and he thanked me. As we were walking back to the car, he stopped me again.
“Nick, what other European cars are you trained?”
I had to think for a second, all my papers were still with the Employment people,
“I have service and repair certifications for Jaguar-Land Rover, you already knew that, BMW and Mini-Cooper, Mercedes-Benz, Audi, Alfa Romeo, Fiat, Renault and Peugeot-Citroen, SEAT, Volvo and Saab, and I also hold a Lotus powertrain specialist mechanic’s certificate. In 5 years, they cram in a lot in Technical College in England!” I grinned.
Dr. Nixon looked at me closely. “Have you got a job lined up anywhere yet, Nick?” he asked, and I confessed that I hadn’t looked; I was still waiting for my assessments to come back.
“Look, I have some friends in town who might like to talk to you, how about we get this little problem here out of the way, and then we can start making some calls; with your background, I think some people are going to be very interested in you, so we’ll make some calls once you’re done here. See you Thursday!”
We shook hands and walked back to the car, Ashley nudging me excitedly. Once we got in the car she leaned over and kissed me.
“Wow, you sure charmed him, Nicky, I’m gonna have to keep a close eye on you!” she laughed. “I think you’ve scored a hit there! Just imagine, if he could help you find a job, how cool would that be?”
I chucked her chin.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ash, I haven’t done anything yet!” I reminded her, “Let’s see what happens Thursday, first!”
We got home and helped mother with the final preparations for dinner, but it was still only not quite 5 pm, too early for dinner for me, so I told mother I’d take Ashley out for a drive, look around town and relax after the busy day.
“Sure, Nicky, whatever you want, dinner at 6. 30 sharp, OK?” she smiled.
Ashley followed me out, trying not to grin, and thanked me politely as I opened her door for her and handed her into the car. When we’d first come in, she’d changed into a tight white polo top and grey sweatpants, and looked lithe and athletic with her glossy, bright bronze hair tumbling loose around her shoulders, framing her beautiful face and setting-off her startling green eyes.
“So where we really going, Nicky, and what do you want to do, as if I didn’t know!” she grinned
I looked at her innocently.
“I was just wondering if you had any more ‘quiet places’ you might want to show me, somewhere we can actually talk, instead of just… you know!”
She cocked her head at me and grinned. “Just…’talk’, huh? OK, I’ll show you another “quiet place”, if all you want to do is… talk!”
I back-pedalled a little. “OK, I may want to do more than just talk, but talk first, OK?”
She winked at me and pointed down the road.
“That-away, Nicky, and don’t spare the horses!”
Following her directions, on a different route out of town, we drove a long, meandering route until we were in a rural, almost wild part of the outskirts of town.
“Where are we, Ash? I’m lost, I’m not sure I could find my way home from here.” I admitted.