The first car of Monty and Valerie was actually a Standard 8 -- for about two weeks. From the passenger seat, Monty kept remarking how cramped it was -- and weren't the boys in the back seat feeling claustrophobic. What a poky car this was. Why didn't they change it to something bigger?

"It's fine dad, honestly," said 6- or 7-year-old Peter, far too short to be bumping his head on the admittedly low roof. Stephen, 4 years younger, was even less likely. Their mother concentrated on the driving for now, having only just passed her test. "Oh don't make such a fuss Monty," she'd have said periodically. But the theme kept returning.

They duly changed to a Hillman Minx within a fortnight.

Monty never learned to drive. He took a couple of lessons around this time, but shocked himself by his poor judgement of distances.

On resumption some 40 years later he presumably shocked the instructor, who at the end of their first session said that he was taking a holiday and would phone on his return. He never did. Monty got the message.

Well into his 90s after his beloved 'chauffeur' Valerie had passed away, he continued to walk all over the place at quite a pace. It clearly did him no harm.