Jaguar E Type. Over thirty years ago, so long ago that it now seems I may have imagined it, I once rode in an E Type. It belonged to a security guard - he was a bankrupted company director and rather reminded me of Darren Nesbitt (the same cruel mouth and lazy sensuous sinful eyes). He helped my wife and I get a clapped out Mini rewired. Why, I'm not sure. Maybe he made a bit on the deal - perhaps the garage gave him a cut or something. Or maybe he just liked us.