I was a terrible driver anyway, but when the accelerator of the huge Ford Granada got stuck to the floor as I drove through Birmingham, I was in big trouble. I had no option but to steer the car wherever there was space in the road. At one point, this meant anti-clockwise around a massive roundabout.

Eventually I could feel the car drain itself of fuel. I managed to bring it to a halt at the side of a dual carriageway, not far from a police station. I climbed out of the vehicle and dialled 111. Before I had even had a chance to speak to the operator, six armed police officers surrounded me. The women looked fearsome at the front, proudly displaying rifles over their bare six packs.

The police immediately began a search of the car. I was embarrassed at the amount of biscuit crumbs across the front passenger seat. I also hoped that they would understand that the Bay City Rollers mat on the floor at the back had been placed there for a joke.