For analysis:
In the yard, we made our farewells, the two men lifted their forks and I put my hand on the car door, but nothing happened. I tried to turn the handle, but it wouldn't move. I went round, trying the other doors, but the result was the same. I was locked out.
My little beagle, Dinah, was the culprit. While I was treating the calves I had heard her barking at the farm dogs, which was one of her hobbies, and in the process, as she threw herself at each window, her paws had pushed down the knobs that locked the doors.
I called to the brother. "Look, I'm very sorry, but I can't get into my car."
"Oh aye, what's happened?" They came over and looked in side and Dinah, tongue lolling, tail lashing delightedly, looked out at them. Behind her, my keys hung in the ignition switch, just an arm's length away but maddeningly inaccessible.
I explained the situation and Josh looked at me in surprise. "You allus carry that little dog with you, don't you?"
"Oh, yes."
"But you don't take your keys out when ye leave the car?"
"No...no...I'm afraid not.
"Funny thing it never 'appened before, then."
"Well, yes, it is, when you think about it. And it's a great pity it's happened way out here."
"How's that?"
"Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to give me lift home to get my spare key."
Seb's mouth fell open. "Back to Darrowby?"
"Afraid so. Nothing else I can do." I tried not to think of the ten miles.
The Hardwicks looked at each other in alarm, then at the vast heap of turnips and back at me. I knew what they were thinking. It wasn't only the turnips; there were always a thousand jobs to be done on a farm and I was about to wreck their chances of getting some of them done this morning.
But, nice fellows that they were, they didn't tell me what a daft bugger I was. Seb blew his cheeks out. "Aye, well, we'd better get started then." He turned his brother. "Aye, well, we'd better get started then." He turned to his brother. "I'll have to leave it to ye, Josh. When you've shifted them turnips you'd better get on the mucking out. We can move that lot o' sheep down t'low garth this afternoon."
Josh nodded and wordlessly seized his fork again while his brother got the family car out.
(pp. 178-9 of Every Living Thing, James Herriot)
“In a week or so it will be spring,” Brian told me.“Then would be a good time for you to be out there."
“It's a good time now," I said. “It's spring now.”
“This morning I could see my breath.”
“We're not made of glass, you know.”
“Mary, that cabin is no better than sleeping out. Maybe you've forgotten. There's no heat, no—”
“I remember that,” I said, “but it's the only place I know of to go.” Then I saw his face close over, braced for me to begin my story. I said, “And I certainly do thank you. Last time we were there the children loved it.”
The closed look didn't fade. He said, “Tell me this, Mary. How long were you planning to stay?”
“Well, I hadn't made any definite plans yet.”
“I mean—”
“Probably not long,” I said. I felt I had to help him out.
“I hope you don't mind my asking but do you have enough money?”
“Oh yes,” I said. “Because if you don't, now—”
“Brian, you know better than anyone that Jeremy's just sold four pieces,” I said
Actually the little money Jeremy had made was still in the bank, and I had left the checkbook on his bureau, where he would be sure to find it.
(Celestial Navigation, Anne Tyler)