I’ve never been one for projecting human emotions on to inanimate objects, but if I didn’t know better I would swear that this car is angry with me.
It has spent the past two decades safely tucked up in a garage, for the most part hidden away from prying eyes – bar the occasional outing when its owner is back in the country.
And now it’s being dragged out in the rain and mud, starting with a spiteful growl and reluctantly crawling into the miserable late-winter gloom.
There’s usually no hesitation in grabbing the keys to something new, but this time I’m happy to let owner Brian Mcnally take the wheel to begin with.
Looking back as he follows us out on to the road, I can’t help but breathe in as the long nose swings out, barely missing the offside banking as the left-hand-drive missile is eased round towards us.
In an instant the menacing grille fills the camera car’s rear-view mirror and I feel six years old again, willing my old man to slow down and let the exotic by, hoping that its driver has seen my eager glances behind and will floor it past us and off into the sunset.
Ironically, six-year-old me wouldn’t have had a clue what was drawing up behind this time.
An F40, an XJ220 or even a 959 would have been instantly recognisable to an avid consumer of all things supercar, but you would probably have to flick through your ageing deck of Top Trumps to recognise that low, sleek front end bristling with lights and scoops as a Robert Jankel Design Tempest.