Page 175 - It's a Rum Life Book 3 "Ivy House Tales 1970 to 1984"

“Jags” had been my passion for many years and the only other car on the job was an aged
Daimler double six sold to me by a friend from Scotland and awaiting some bodywork. It
wasn’t tested or taxed but its wheels would turn and turn quickly.

Albert and I tied a rigid commercial tow bar onto the door handles passenger side and
complete with commercial “General Trade Plates”, we set off for Chingford at about 3pm
only about two and a half hours behind time.
By 5.15pm we had found the lorries in Essex and I left Albert (our No1 driver) to sort out
the tow home. Not having any time left to make Brighton that night I headed for Croydon
and stayed overnight with friends.

CONFRONTATION
Rising early on Friday I duly set off for Brighton. The car had performed really well so far
but just as I was about to join the M23 at Redhill a large piece of exhaust fell off. I stopped
to put it in the boot and as I slammed the boot lid, one of the four lovely headlights fell out
onto the road! By now it wasn’t just looking a bit tatty! Perhaps there really was some
resemblance to a wreck on wheels.

(Picture M23 at Redhill,
before the rush. It was just like this,
me and one police car!)

I had noticed a Police patrol car
watching my antics and as I pulled
away again they decided to stop me
and ask some questions!

After close examination of the motor
with bits missing, it didn’t need a car
specialist to tell things were not going
well. Next came the question of the trade plates and why so far from home.
Fairly quick thinking brought, “It’s on route to Brighton for a client,” I said.

Well I wasn’t in much doubt that they were going to do something about the mobile rust
heap, what with watching me pick up all those bits off the road!
It was still only 9am, for them their day had started really well, a multitude of charges all on
one set of wheels!
I ended up with a ticket and notice of intended prosecution and carried on to Brighton with
a warning that it wasn’t advisable, as if I was stopped again, I would face a double dose of
charges.
Not a lot of choice really considering the circumstances. The rest of the journey was a blur
comparatively.
I managed to get the money and get home in time to pay the weekly wages once again!

IN COURT IN CROYDON
The remainder of this lengthy tome consists of my receiving a letter from South London
Police a week or so later and my deciding to appear in Court at Croydon at the appointed
time.
The consequences of not doing so I considered were too grievous to comprehend. As the

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