It was a preposterous car, of course, and not even the car I'd originally wanted. I had wanted a Rolls Royce Silver Cloud III, the sort of car you step up into, not crawl down into, like a Porsche. I'd worked out the way to do it was to by a Bentley S3, and have it converted by a Rolls dealer into a Silver Cloud. I wanted one in light blue and grey, a stunning livery.
Alas, by the time I was able to step into that league the Silver Cloud was history, a 'classic' car, more of a collector's item. But there was a newer car made by Rolls Royce that looked quite exciting, the Bentley Turbo R. Furthermore, there were good secondhand values to be had. I took the plunge. I knew within seconds I'd done the right thing. The interior smelled of walnut and leather rather than of oil and petrol. In the back, set into the backs of the seats in front, were two pull-out cocktail cabinets, each with lead crystal glasses and decanters with sterling silver stoppers.
It had a massive 6.8 litre engine, powerful enough to thrust you back into your seat with g-forces when you put your foot down. A car on the horizon up ahead could be alongside in seconds. Fortunately it had massive disc brakes to match its awesome acceleration. It was big. I had a photo taken of me sitting cross-legged in the middle of its gigantic bonnet, and had a garage made to fit it. It had to go when I moved into Cambridge with its narrow streets, into a house without a garage. Ah well, at least I'd got the Rolls out of my system.