1984 - July 1996: Life for Angelica (named from the letters AGC on the number plate) could have begun anywhere; we shall probably never know, although I'd gladly bet a small green plant that it was somewhere in France*. I like to imagine she had a happy childhood, playing in fields of corn, scrumping apples from the orchard, splashing merrily in the local stream before skipping home for tea and crumpets with the vicar.

Born in 1984, daughter of the tragic film star Madame Isabelle Gaurand, it wasn't long before vivacious young Angel was bopping along to the sounds of This Charming Man and Papa Don't Preach (a fickle teenager with confused musical influences). By the mid nineties, however, the British recession and a string of failed relationships had brought her to the less glamorous shores of Worthing, England. It was here that Angel settled down with her new fiancé, the notorious screen-writer Bertrand Marsouiller. Following several unsuccessful attempts to have a child, Marsouiller died suddenly in a gas explosion near his family's home in Grenoble.

Facing up to middle age and the prospect of joining the local Conservative Party, Angel was rescued from a mid-life crisis by my parents in the summer of 1996, whereupon successive outings around the Sussex countryside, accompanied by the unrelenting soundtrack of homemade Foster and Allen compilations, led Angel to find peace and inner sanctity.

November 1996: A change of pace and a change of lifestyle, as Angel puts her troubled past behind her and moves north, to the thriving metropolis, heartland of the rich and famous, and sunshine capital of the northern hemisphere, known simply to you and me as.... Salford. Hmmm.

If by now you're wondering what the hell I'm on about, I should explain that whilst typing this, I'm also trying to keep half an eye on the film Driller Killer that's on the telly. I hope you understand. Anyway, back to the car....

In a bid to revisit her youth, Angel takes me on a hell-raising experience travelling at 92mph on the motorway towards Hyde. (There's nothing scary about going at 92 miles per hour, it's just the thought of going to Hyde that bothers me). But the glitzy lifestyle of pets, trucks and back axle rock 'n' roll, leave the red devil in rehab, and.... hang on a minute, something's just occurred to me. Now that I've mentioned I'm half watching Driller Killer on the TV, I'm gonna get loads of psychopaths sending stuff to me, thinking I'm one of their clan. All I can say is, that if Peter Pan was on TV instead, I'd just as likely be watching that.... well, maybe....

1997 - 1999: Hoorraaahhh!! Driller Killer's just finished, and now they're showing Maîtresse with Gerard Depardieu. We're only two minutes into the film and there's a Renault 4 taking pride of place in the opening scene! And another one.... oh my god they're everywhere, this is too much excitement for one evening, I might just have to forget typing the rest of this page and watch the film instead. But I wouldn't want to disappoint you.

Em, right, quickly, what happened from 1997 to 1999? Oh, Angel got married for a second time, I took her for a surprise 455-degree spin that ended in a bus shelter, em, oh I don't know, make up your own story, I'm getting bored with this. The above photo is from Clapham, London in 1999. Earlier on that day at around 5am, Angel and I were the only car on Tower Bridge, which gave me a warm, custard-like feeling. Right, next....

Autumn 1999 - Spring 2000: A sad time indeed. There is something I should explain at this point. For those of you around the world who are unfamiliar with the term 'scally', the words 'Manchester, Salford, lad, shell suit, utter and bastard' are all you really need to know. Put them together and what do you get? A trashed car I'm afraid. Oh yes, there are no depths of pointless depraved mentality to which certain individuals in this area will not lower themselves. I only hope these people can grow up with more respect, understanding, and a better education, in order that they can improve their prospects, advance their careers and gain a broader knowledge of society and culture.... then get their head caught in a mincer.

Spring 2001: I must now report the sad news that such strains endured by Angel took their toll, and she only had a short time left to live following her ordeal. I did manage to milk a further six or seven months' use out of her, which was incredible considering her condition, but it all had to come to an end eventually, and a year or so after I left her, she found her way to the other side. She shall be immortalised on this website, and her memory will live on. In the meantime, let us remember the car that started all this off.