Probably the best thing that ever came out of my first marriage was passing my driving test. I remember the date clearly, February 15th 1978, and I was the only one of 6 of us in the bank taking our tests that week who passed.
In later years, being a driver proved very popular as whenever there was a party to attend, I was the designated driver as I didn’t drink.
I never minded actually, but one Saturday afternoon Ex Partner refused to give me the car keys when he’d had more than a few and nearly killed us on the way home. I have never been so afraid as he careered into the hedges on both sides of the lanes and rounded bends on the wrong side of the road at speed over the seven mile journey.
After that, I never let him drive me anywhere, even if he was sober.
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