(Picture is not the actual car)
IT seemed like a good idea at the time. The TR7 belonged to Mrs Mouth and was proving unreliable, impractical and quite unsuitable for her needs.
By now I had a company car for everyday needs but the Escort Estate was no fun so a solution was clear: I’d take ownership of the TR7 to use at weekends, enabling Mrs Mouth to buy a sensible replacement.
It was March 1987. The car was a bright red 1977 model, registration POJ805R, and it really was a pretty rotten car, all things considered. It was a novel experience to get behind the wheel of an authentic sports car again but its unreliability continued and, truth be told, it had little to commend it.
After a few months I sold it, cheaply, to a friend whose plan was to take it apart and rebuild it into pristine condition. I believe the cost and the bother of it all defeated him, too, in the end.