A Delicate Instrument, by Janet Rowley

An original novel extract set in the twentieth century.

When our Vernon turned seventeen he bought half a motorbike from a man in Foleshill and wheeled it home in two journeys. The front half lived in the back yard under a tarpaulin. The engine lived in the front parlour, on sheets of newspaper spread across Mam’s good rug, because, Vernon said, it was ‘a delicate instrument’ and the yard was damp.

Mam told him it was a filthy lump of iron. Vernon told her it was a Triumph. They went on like that for a fortnight.

He worked on it every evening after his shift at the factory, lying on his stomach with his tongue between his teeth and oil to the elbows. He named every part as he cleaned it, laying them out in rows like cutlery, and he would not let anyone walk past without hearing what a carburettor did. He was loud, untidy and completely certain that he was right about everything.

But when I fell off the wall at school and came home with my knee in a bandage, it was Vernon who carried me up the stairs. He wiped his hands three times on a rag first. Then he sat on the end of my bed and told me, very seriously, that when the bike was finished I would be the first person to ride on the back.

‘Before Mam?’ I said.

‘Mam,’ said Vernon, ‘is never getting on it.’

What impressions does the writer create of Vernon?

You must refer to the language used in the text to support your answer, using relevant subject terminology where appropriate.