He's pulled!

Gareth towed away my Corsa but hooked something else too...

Published by: Polly Taylor
Published on: 20th July 2010

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, the car shuddered violently. ‘It’s no good,’ I called to my mum Karen over the sound of the spluttering engine. ‘I’m pulling over.’
As I bumped it on to the kerb, the engine made a strange choking sound. Then stopped.
Looking at her disappointed face, I felt awful. We were on our way to her dad’s house for lunch, and she’d really been looking forward to it.
‘I’m sorry’ I shrugged. ‘I’ll call the breakdown people.’
Standing by the side of the road, the huge tow truck trundled towards us. When the recovery guy got out, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.
Tall, rugged, twinkly brown eyes… He was gorgeous. ‘He’s a hunk!’ I whispered to Mum, nudging her in the ribs.
‘Behave!’ she said. ‘You’re spoken for.’
True, me and my boyfriend had been together four and a half years, but what I hadn’t told Mum was that we were arguing loads.
It looked like our relationship was heading in the same direction as my car – for a breakdown.
‘Hi, I’m Gareth,’ the driver smiled. His two front teeth were slightly crooked. Adorable!
‘I’m Natalie,’ I introduced myself, leaning on my Vauxhall Corsa, I hoped I looked like one of those F1 promotion girls!
As he gave the car a once-over and tinkered with the engine, I couldn’t help checking him out in his oily overalls.
Emerging from under the bonnet, he shook his head.
‘You won’t be driving this home,’ he sighed. ‘I’m supposed to call another recovery vehicle, but as I’m here I’ll tow the car myself and give you two a lift home.’
Before Mum could blink, I’d pushed her out of the way and clambered into the cabin of his tow truck, taking my place in the middle seat, next to hunky Gareth.
On the journey home, we chatted away like old friends. Sparks were certainly flying, and they had nothing to do with my faulty engine!
‘Fancy coming in for a coffee?’ I asked, as we pulled up outside my house.
‘Love to,’ he said.
‘Natalie!’ Mum hissed. I pretended I hadn’t heard her.
Sat in my living room, we nattered about nightclubs, our shared love of animals and, of course, his car, a Ford Focus.
‘It’s my pride and joy,’ he smiled, showing me a picture of it on his mobile phone.
Before I knew it, three hours had passed!
‘Here, take my number,’ he said, getting up off the sofa to leave. ‘I can fix your car cheaper than any garage.’
Over the next few days, I couldn’t stop myself from texting Gareth and thanking him for rescuing me. It also got me thinking – if Gareth was on my mind, what did that say about my relationship with my boyfriend?
Weeks later, we split.
Me and Gareth, though, were still going strong.
A few days later, my phone beeped with a message from him.
Want to borrow my car while yours is out of action?
His pride and joy? I couldn’t believe he’d trust me with it!
Later that week, I excitedly got behind the wheel.
‘Be careful!’ he yelled as I sped off down the road. But I wasn’t used to driving such a powerful car, and a few minutes later, I crashed into a central reservation.
Thankfully, I wasn’t hurt.
Gareth’s car on the other hand…
‘He’s going to kill me!’ I cried to Mum down the phone. ‘Can you call him and tell him what’s happened, please.’
‘Okay, fine,’ she sighed.
Minutes later, my phone beeped. It was Gareth.
Forget the car! All I care about is if you’re all right, he’d texted.
What a sweetie!
That night, I went around to Gareth’s to apologise for the damage I caused to his car.
When he answered the door and I looked into his worried face, I couldn’t bite my tongue any longer. ‘I really like you,’ I confessed, blushing.
‘I really like you, too,’ he said.
‘Well, you’ve pulled,’ I chuckled, pulling him in for a kiss.
Eighteen months later, Gareth proposed and we started planning our wedding.
‘I don’t want a boring, traditional wedding,’ I told him. ‘Let’s do something different.’
‘Maybe you should arrive in a tow truck,’ he chuckled.
Clearly he was joking, but…
‘Let’s do it,’ I said.
Gareth phoned a friend at work and he arranged to borrow the biggest tow truck they had. His pal even cleaned the cab for us –  and when the big day arrived, he helped me to get inside without ruining my long, white gown.
Everyone thought we were mad – but the moment certainly meant something to us.
Now me and Gareth love to
joke that a clapped-out Corsa wasn’t the only thing he pulled the day I broke down!
Natalie Down, 25, Poole, Dorset