ANJie

When the threat of redundancy or daily commute to the new location materialised, Brian was forced to consider purchasing his third vehicle. He had enjoyed driving Betsy 2 so much that he had already planned ahead for the inevitable and had prudently saved enough, he thought, to buy a similar model perhaps only one or two years old, with low mileage.

As it happened, it was about six months before the time he had planned on upgrading anyway, that he received notice that his plant was to close. Brian weighed up the options and he decided that commute to the alternative factory was his only choice. He enjoyed the work, despite the low pay, and was reluctant to try anything else. He had a few months' grace before the move but he was very aware that the old reliable warhorse would have to be retired before the move.

So he visited the main dealers to see what they had on offer. His old model was 14 years old by then, was still being manufactured and, although it had gone through an evolution of re-stylings in the meantime, it was still recognisably the same type of car.

His timing couldn't have been better. The style had just changed yet again, the transformation of bodywork so radical that the older models looked boxy and dated compared to the broad, spacious and curvy new design. This was despite the fact they were almost identical under the new pressed and painted mild steel shell. The dealers were having difficulty offloading the remnants of the ugly old style that they still had, untidily clogging up the car-dealer's lot.

Brian was a godsend to the salesman. Here was a customer who actually quite liked the old style, after all, it was still a vast improvement in looks on his even older model. Brian had assumed that he could not afford a new car, he had fully intended selecting one of the best of the used models. However, he was surprised that the price of a new unfashionable version was so reasonable. He took into account the salesman's comments that he would have three years of manufacturer's warranty compared to just one year's dealer warranty on a used one. Added to that, he could delay having to take a Ministry Of Transport safety test for three years with a new car. As further sweeteners to the deal, the salesman was prepared to throw in a set of smart alloy wheels, rubber mats throughout and the latest Satellite Navigation Kit, containing integrated radio and CD player with surround sound speaker system, into the basic model, which normally only came with a rather basic radio/cassette model.

Brian sat at the salesman's desk and thought it through. He fully accepted that he may have been a bit on the dim side educationally but he was always careful, he never did anything rash or unconsidered. He had already taken a test drive in the outdated model, which he felt very positive about. He quite liked the colour, a conservative blue that looked very attractive with its showroom shine. Weighing it all up, it cost only a few hundred more than the cost of a used one on the lot, which was easily outdone by the near grand's-worth of additions. To be honest, Brian had no real need of the alloy wheels, although he understood that they would be less likely to look unsightly over time if he was to maintain it as long as the previous model had motored on for. The sat-nav gadget meant absolutely nothing to him, in fact he had had so much trouble programming his first VCR, that he never upgraded to DVD. As for resetting the clock on the cooker after the fitter originally set it up, well it was, frankly, beyond him; so he left it flashing zeros after the first power cut. He was useless with computers at school and was only forced to use the factory one to log on for his time sheet. However, as he had recently replaced most of his vinyl Blues and Bluegrass records with CDs, that part of the entertainment package greatly appealed to him. The salesman was also prepared to offer a good trade-in on Brian's old car which solved the problem of what to do with her once Betsy 2 was replaced.

"Sold!" Brian smiled to the salesman, who grinned even broader back at him, and Brian happily signed the papers put in front of him and handed over his debit card. Two days later, after the registration had been completed and the wheels, mats and sat-nav unit had been installed, Brian proudly drove away the very first brand-new car he had ever possessed.

Brian had to admit to himself that he wasn't the sharpest chisel on the workbench. Everybody had always told him that anyway. Even at school they didn't think he had the remotest chance of getting an engineering apprenticeship, so he settled for his first job as a packer and loader at the local plastics factory. He was a good reliable worker, so much so that one day the foreman asked if he would try out on a plastics extruding machine and, Brian thought, why not? He took to it well and had been doing the same job ever since.

If someone physically showed him what to do, he was fine, and was practically-minded enough to run with it, and able to sort out any problems which arose. He just wasn't too good at reading instruction manuals. He had to admit that he had some misgivings about what to do with the dreaded sat-nav in those two days leading up to handing over his old car and taking over the new.

So when he was sitting comfortably in the car he had christened "Betsy 3" and had adjusted his mirror and fastened his seat belt, he found he couldn't delay the inevitable any longer. So he switched the unit on. He was delighted that, in addition to the radio, which was already tuned in to a popular music station, a map instantly appeared on the screen showing his route towards the by-pass, and he hadn't even had to punch any buttons yet. He liked this. He'd not slept very well the last couple of nights wondering how he would get the device to work and there it was working without him having to do anything.

When he picked up the car, the salesmen were all too busy to show him around his new acquisition. They were inundated due to an enthusiastic response by the public to the flashier new models, and Brian was almost shooed out the door with his embarrassing old model. He went without complaint, never liking to make a fuss.

He had two possible routes home around the ring road from the garage, which was situated quite close to the main road running east. The southward clockwise route around the ring road was fractionally the shortest way around and that was the way he had decided on travelling. However, as he approached the main road, the ring road appeared on his little screen, showing the northbound route as bright yellow and the southbound as a foreboding black, which looked ominous. Brian was uncertain how to proceed. He was a careful driver and hated to be in two minds. He needed help. Then he spotted a button, in a bank of buttons to one side of the unit, that was marked "Voice", so in desperation, Brian pushed the button, more in hope than conviction that he had any clue what he was doing.

A voice said, "Congestion ... delays ahead, please take the third turning off the roundabout and head ... North, along the B-three ... ough ... seventy ... nine." The voice was commanding, insistent even.

Brian obeyed without a second thought and even said, "Thanks, Betsy 3".

The unit replied, "You're welcome."

Brian approved of the polite reply, it somehow took the edge off the original brusque instruction. He certainly didn't think it was anything other than what was usual. He had no idea what everyone else expected from a sat-nav system.

The voice was only slightly mechanical, the road numbers in particular sounded curiously stilted, but Brian got used to the slight idiosyncrasies and in time grew to love the sound of the sat-navy's voice. It was a warm definitely female voice, a little on the bossy side sometimes and sounded a little annoyed, like the parent of a wayward child whose patience was being tested, on the few occasions he ignored her commands or missed his turning in error. The language spoken was English, but it seemed like the English used wasn't the first language of the woman who had input all the phrases. To Brian's untrained ear he thought perhaps she was Oriental, perhaps Japanese. This theory would have been no surprise really, as the car was Japanese-designed although built in Europe, and the installed Satellite-Navigation unit in the dashboard appeared to be of Japanese manufacture.

He signalled right in plenty of time and safely moved his new car into the righthand lane and took the turning to the right onto the ring road as he had been advised or instructed. He enjoyed a safe and uneventful journey home to his Mum's house, a house he later took possession of when his Mum had to go into full-time care.

Brian never found out what the problem was with the alternative clockwise route and never gave it a second thought. He put his trust in the machine from that point on and everywhere he went his journeys appeared to be much more often smooth ones than otherwise.

So trouble-free were his trips that he was minded to recall that only two years ago, he and Marianne holidayed in Scandinavia for a fortnight. Motoring through Norway and Sweden mainly, with a couple of days in Denmark and then a swift drive through Germany and Holland leading to the ferry home. The sat-nav performed perfectly on the trip, as she had promised to do so when he had pre-planned the trip, running through all the proposed routes with ANJie beforehand.

So it was when Rupert started espousing the claim that only the top sat-navs included Western Europe along with the usual UK maps that Brian took exception and spoke up for the first time. This was out of character, he normally never allowed those boastful types to get his rancour up but this time Rupert touched one raw nerve too many.

"Look, there doesn't appear to be anything special in your new sat-nav that is any improvement over my standard eight-year-old one. I have Europe maps on mine, too, as I took a trip through five countries just a couple of years ago. Mine has a much more natural speaking voice, she also warns me about road temperature, accidents and planned maintenance hold-ups, tyre pressures and brake wear. She even points out where I can find parking spots in unfamiliar towns. I have never even had to press any buttons to give her instructions or a password. She is so user friendly, she even calls me Brian when she speaks."

Well, that put the cat among the pigeons!

They laughed of course, Rupert included, at the splendid joke, but Brian insisted it was no joke. That was when Rupert grew angry.

"Brian," Rupert said, angrily, "You better put up or shut up!"

So, as soon as they got back to the company car park, they all bundled into Brian's car, registration HN05 ANJ, and Brian put the key in and started the engine in anticipation of amazing his carful of Doubting Thomases.

And ... nothing happened. Nothing at all. This was not at all as Brian had expected. The engine started with no problem, the battery and ignition system was in excellent condition, the fuel and air mixture tuned to near-perfection and the car's electronics performed almost as it always did. Except for the sat-nav. ANJie displayed the map showing the roads but her voice didn't kick in to greet him as he had told his guests that she always did.

"Hello, ANJie," Brian asked hesitatingly. Ever since he'd pressed the "Voice" button on his first day in the car, he had always chattered away to ANJie as if she was a best friend. And she always greeted him as soon as he turned the key and started the engine.

Today, though, nothing.

Nor did she answer any of his increasingly desperate attempts to communicate with her. He even turned her off and on again, hoping to get a response, but all was to no avail. That had never happened before, ever.

"Well," said Rupert, "Amaze us, Brian, tap in the destination, your own town for example, and show us what she can do."

Brian had never tapped in any co-ordinates before, of course, he had never had to and he didn't even know how to. He had never once read the manual or even take it out of its shrink-wrapped covering. Of course he had never read the manual, he had never read any manual.

After Brian hesitated, Rupert, who had jumped into the front seat, sighed and started tapping the screen, pulled up a menu and located the library of destinations and found it completely empty. Of course then he decided to take the piss out of Brian and openly laughed at him.

"Brian, you are a joke, you stupid thick bugger!" Rupert laughed, "This sat-nav is a non-starter, it doesn't work and the destinations are empty so you have clearly never even used it. You are either trying to make complete fools of us or else you are delusional, maybe completely off your trolley!"

Brian was red-faced and had no response, none at all. He switched the engine off, and with head bowed, mumbled incoherent apologies and excuses for the temporary non-performance of his car computer and everyone got out.

Alec and Rupert walked off back to work laughing their heads off.

Toby squeezed his friend's shoulder and told him not to worry about it, that Rupert was full of shit anyway and not to let him get to him. At least, he pointed out the bright side, they got a free breakfast out of the whole exercise.

Brian was more than a little upset about the result and even more concerned that he had upset ANJie. There was no other explanation, but now he had to get back into work.

Angrily, he slammed the car door, regretting that petulant action immediately, he never lost his temper like that. Brian never showed any sign of petulance, even Toby noticed, waiting to walk back into the factory with him. But Brian did dwell on the events throughout the rest of the day. His production rates were down as a consequence. Brian noticed his figures were down for the day.

Alec, looking at the time-sheets and production outputs at the end of the day, also noticed that Brian's figures were down. He knew his man, he liked Brian and respected his attitude to work. On the other hand that Rupert was an arse. OK, Rupert was a good salesman, but like all his kind he was so full of shit. The arrogant bugger didn't have a clue what went on in the factory in order to get his important orders out the door, and Alec was convinced that the "catch-up" effort to fill the order was down to Rupert forgetting to do the paperwork.

The last complaint about quality of the bespoke crates supplied to Rupert's important client was five years ago. That was while Brian was on annual leave and another operative had to produce them instead. The next time that Brian was due to take a holiday he had spent time producing extra quantities on a number of runs over a period of several weeks, for holding in stock. Thus, trouble-free orders were filled without needing to produce any at all during his absence. He had done the same each year since without problems.

Alec felt a little ashamed at the way Rupert had treated Brian and felt equally guilty that he should have given his worker more support.

During the afternoon Rupert also thought about the incident and at the end of the day called Alec and asked him if he had overstepped the mark. When Alec agreed he had, Rupert said he would make time on Monday to take Brian a cup of coffee and apologise. Alec agreed that was a good idea, and was pleased that the suggestion came from him before putting him straight about what efforts Brian had put in over the years to keep Rupert's precious account. Rupert was chastened, said he hadn't been aware and would make it up to him. Maybe, Alec thought, Rupert wasn't such an arse after all.

Alec recalled when the old West County Factory closed down several years earlier and he was informed by the Gov'nor that he had to take on a proportion of the old factory's staff and fit in all of their machines, most of which were pretty ancient and virtually worn out. Brian was not the brightest of the candidates and performed poorly in the interview process. Ordinarily, Alec would have rejected him out of hand but old George, the foreman of the old plant, had told him that Brian was his best worker and advised him to take him on regardless of his interview. "You won't regret having Brian in your team," George had said, sagely.

Old George also told Alec not to waste his time offering Brian overtime on Saturday mornings, it wasn't going to be worthwhile him travelling all that way for a few hours' work, but he would happily work late or come in early during the week.

Alec only now realised that he hardly ever spoke to Brian. He never needed to, so he left him to it. The guy came in, got on with the work without any problems and left at the end of the day, with best production figures and minimum waste in the whole department. Not only had he been George's best worker, in a short time he had become Alec's best by a country mile. As soon as the old kit from the other factory turned up on the flatbed for reinstalling, Alec could tell which one was Brian's. It was as spotless as his car was. In fact of all the kit offloaded six years ago, Brian's was the only one still going, it was twenty years old at least and was only designed to last ten.

Alec knew Brian had a sick mother, which is the reason why he wouldn't relocate, but until he sat behind Rupert and noticed that Brian's left hand on the steering wheel was wearing a wedding band on his ring finger, he hadn't realised that he had gotten himself married since he started working at the new plant.

Alec realised with a jolt that he knew more about his daughter's new boyfriend than he did his best worker, and his daughter's first date wasn't even due to happen until Friday! He had found out all about the boyfriend's past by accessing the Internet through Facebook. If Brian was on Facebook, he would have to invite him to be a friend. In any case he decided he needed to speak to Brian more regularly, find out how well his sick mother was for a start. He would begin again after the weekend.

Alec let today's production figures ride, knowing that Brian would get his head together in a day or two and more than make up any shortfall.

Alec looked around his office before switching off the light, realising that he had left his digital camera and connecting lead to his computer on the desk. Damn, he nearly left the blessed thing behind.

When Brian got into his car at the end of the working day, he inserted the key and said, as he always said, in as light and cheerful voice as he could,

"Hi ANJie," adding, "What happened to you today then? You really showed me up in front of my friends, you know," and he awaited a response, but nothing was forthcoming.

Brian was a simple man, but he had feelings and, if Rupert and Alec had hurt his feelings earlier, then he realised that his actions and words may have hurt his ANJie even more through his boasting. He realised that, in a moment of rash thought, a display of arrogance and showmanship that was so out of character for him, indicated that he had taken ANJie for granted and, by trying to get her to perform her tricks in front of strangers, must have deeply upset her.

He tried "Sorry, ANJie," twice, but there was still no response. He sighed as he buckled his seat belt and prepared to move off.

As he pulled out of the car park and headed on the usual road home, he found he missed the voice of ANJie even more. There was a silence where he was used to ANJie talking to him, giving him an estimated time of when he would get home or reminding him when to turn his lights on, or refuel. He had become accustomed to being comforted by her, warning him of traffic build-up en route and he missed her guidance around obstructions.

He had used ANJie as a sounding board over the years, too, telling her of his feeling that his relationship with Marianne was deteriorating by degrees, including her reluctance to start a family that he had desired for so long. ANJie usually calmed him during these moments, helping him relax and think through ways of improving things at home.