Image credit: Makizox (CC BY-SA 4.0)
Dave started a new job last week. Bit further to drive than the old place, but the money's better and he gets more time off. Kids are going to school now too, so Sharon's using the BMW X3 to ferry the kids around in the mornings and it is a bit heavy on fuel. Better find something cheap to get to work in.
A few evenings spent scanning Marketplace doesn't really result in much success but a couple of days later, one of Dave's mates says his mum's selling her old Clio, any interest? Dave goes and looks it over one evening. A little 1.2 petrol, pretty good on fuel, 15 years old, a few dents here and there but it's only done 75k and she wants £700 for it. A quick spin around the block, seems OK. Sure, that'll do. Money changes hands and the Clio goes home with Dave.
There's only one space on the driveway which is reserved for the BMW so the Clio lives outside on the road. It still has a National Trust sticker in the back window and the floor mats are out of a Fiesta. One of the hubcaps is missing and there's a dent in the bootlid where the last owner reversed it into a bollard at Tescos last year. Over the next few weeks, Dave settles into his new job nicely and so does the Clio, 150 miles a week, asking nothing much. In fact, it's becoming almost invisible.
The next few months roll by and the Clio blends into Dave's life so quietly, he hardly remembers it exists half the time. The dirt's starting to pile up but while the X3 gets washed every few weeks, the Clio sits out on the road, forgotten. Once, the kids had a go at washing it with the left over water while Dave was cutting the grass, but they got bored halfway through so it's mostly just smeared the dirt around.
Its MOT comes up and Sharon drives it for the first time when she drops it in at their local garage while Dave gets to use the X3 for once. She doesn't like it, the brakes are rubbish and it's slow. It fails but only on a brake pipe and a couple of tyres, it gets given the cheapest tyres the garage sells and gets picked up later that day. A few advisories but they can be ignored for now, so the Clio plods on for another year.
The months roll by. A treat for it today, Dave runs it through the car wash while getting fuel on his way home. The engine management light's been on for the last few weeks, but it runs OK so quickly gets forgotten. Goes off by itself sometimes anyway. He uses it one lunch time to take some workmates to the pub for lunch, first time he's had passengers in it, they have a laugh squeezing three burly men into the back seat.
More months have rolled by, winter's come and gone. Dave's on a week off, pottering around the house and looking after the kids while Sharon's at work. She took the X3 so Dave takes the kids to the cinema in the Clio. Seems odd in a vague sort of way using it for something that isn't driving to work; usually it spends weekends and holidays stationary and forgotten out on the road. The kids don't really notice, bar an argument about who gets to sit in the front.
Another MOT comes and goes, another cheap tyre and some brake pads this time, the same advisories again but Dave can't remember what they were. It gets an oil change too, as he can't remember when it was last done. Probably overdue so might as well. Dave sealed up the sunroof last month with silicone, was easier than trying to work out why water kept getting in. Definitely smells a bit musty in here now, the leak and 18 months of coffee stains and accumulated dirt are starting to leave their mark.
Another couple of years go by. The family car's been upgraded, so a two year old Kia Sportage now sits, pride of place, on the driveway. The Clio still camps out wherever there's room on the street, there's some moss in the window seals now and the back wiper blade is peeling off. Someone clipped the passenger wing mirror a few weeks back, it's held on with duct tape now but at least the glass is still in it. It was running a bit rough the last few days, Dave drops it off on his day off and the garage changes the spark plugs and cleans a sensor or something, can't quite remember. Seems OK now. The alternator belt's been squeaking most of the time Dave's had it but he barely notices it any more.
Four years on, it's just gone over 100,000 miles. The interior really is a bit grim now, there's still a water leak somewhere. Sharon went in it the other day and complained it smelled musty but Dave doesn't really notice it now. The Clio finally manages to draw attention to itself when the battery goes flat one cold autumn morning. The RAC come out, put a new one in and Dave's only half an hour late to work. That evening, Sharon says he should really get something newer and more reliable, Dave agrees. One incident blots the last few years of service the Clio's given them and, just like that, its fate is sealed.
Dave goes to the same Kia dealer they got the Sportage from and finds a Picanto on the forecourt. Looks nice, it's got a fancy stereo in it and air conditioning too, plus the tax is cheap. It's quite a lot of money at £6,995 but it should last a fair while. The dealer gives the Clio a quick glance over and offers £100 trade in. Paperwork is signed, Dave drives off the forecourt in the shiny Picanto that smells pleasantly of cleaning products and newness, while the kids play with the touchscreen sat nav, leaving the Clio sat in the corner of the dealer's forecourt, forgotten almost immediately.
At some point later that day, someone at the dealer moves it into their back yard where it stays for several weeks, accumulating bird mess and with one tyre slowly deflating. Eventually, a lorry turns up and, along with several other cars that have been traded in for younger models, the Clio is jump started and driven onto the trailer, sharing close quarters with a smokey diesel Focus and a tidy Skoda Fabia with no MOT. The handbrake goes up - only just holds it - and the engine's turned off for the last time. The lorry leaves the dealer's compound and an hour later arrives back at the yard. Forks are placed under the Clio and it's lifted, delicately, off the trailer and onto the stained concrete of the dismantler's yard. Numbers and letters denoting its fate are written in marker pen on its back windows, the bonnet goes up and it sits quietly among rows of aging cars awaiting the same fate.
Within hours the battery is removed, the - now quite mouldy - interior is quickly inspected and the forklift once again lifts the Clio into the air. Placed onto a steel frame, fluids are clinically drained from the engine. Oil, coolant, power steering, brake fluid and petrol all gets pumped efficiently into storage before the Clio is lifted once more, this time by the roof, and placed in the crusher. A few short seconds later, after the brief cacophony of breaking glass and crushed steel ceases, the Clio is gone.
It did its job quietly, it never asked for much and it never got in the way. It perhaps deserved better and yet it lived as cars should, used for a purpose it fulfilled well, until finished with and recycled. It leaves no legacy, Dave can't even remember its registration number or what engine it had in it.
There's only one time it finally earned some recognition, long after it ceased to exist. A couple of years later over a lunch break, one of Dave's workmates is looking for a first car for their eldest daughter on eBay. There's an old Renault Clio up for sale locally, maybe it's worth a look? Dave leans over to look at the computer screen. "Oh yeah, I had one of those. Good car really".