Although I had planned to trade my Cerbera 4.5 and Tuscan for the ultra-TVR, when it came to it, I just couldn't face letting the 4.5 go. Too much history, too many memories - it had earned its stripes as a 'keeper' and member of the family. The Red Rose Tuscan, fun as it was and to many people's eyes a prettier car, never got under my skin like the 4.5. A pop star bought the Tuscan at the end of March 2005 when he got his first big chart hit.

Anyway, the really big "WOW" - my first driving impressions of the Boss Cerbera. Even starting the engine is special. I can't begin to describe the sound the high compression, hand-made motor makes when it explodes into life. It sounds supercharged due to the gears on the front of the engine and the characteristic induction whine of the Tuscan-style airboxes. There's none of the clatter normally associated with the 4.2 and 4.5 versions. It sounds and feels like a potent thoroughbred.

And boy does it go! I had, wrongly really, been obsessed by BHP while Ravey and Giles Cooper kept referring to the torque. Giles was dead right about the torque and, compared with the V10 M5, the Boss Cerbera's 440lb·ft means its torque to weight ratio is almost DOUBLE the M5 - in fact it's not much less than a Mclaren F1. Consequently, the ability to break traction is comical. It can do a 180 turn on not much more than tickover. If I pop the clutch at 80 in 3rd, it will smoke the rear tyres and any clumsy gearshift up to and including going into 4th can do the same. Full bore acceleration mashes the rear end into the tarmac and the nose rears up - it's splendidly violent as the engine unleashes its fury on the chassis and riding the traction knife edge is pretty exhilarating. Yep, it's a proper fright all right.

The surge of torque is there from the beginning but starts coming on strong at about 2250rpm - maybe 1000rpm lower than the 4.5 and there's much more of it. It keeps on building, seeming to reach a mighty plateau from about 4,000 through to 6,500rpm. Passing through 5K with the throttles wide open, there is the most visceral snarl that makes your spine tingle. It revs - and pulls - to nearly 8K but there's no need to go up there except on track. As for hooking it up to some laughing gas? I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but I really don't think I need it.

I soon learned to contain its desire to barbecue the tyres in a way that flatters to deceive. The Boss can be driven briskly and feel well behaved. A quick twitch of the foot is enough to make passengers pass comment but there are another few inches of pedal travel beyond a twitch.

It's the devil's own job to launch it tidily. My early theory was to 'granny start', then punch in 2nd and feed the power in hard but smooth, then grab 3rd and really lean on it. This is not particularly conducive to timed acceleration runs from zero but at traffic light grands prix, it's quite amusing to let another driver think they've got the better of me, only to bellow past a split second later and demonstrate they don't stand a cat in hell's chance of seeing me again. 40 to 140+ in 4th gear is a good trick.

Commuting between Milton Keynes and Blackpool (200 miles each way) meant I clocked mileage up pretty quickly, although I spread it between the Boss, the 4.5 and The Duchess …and TVR's press car fleet. My driveway over the last decade has often hosted multiple TVRs but in the spring and early summer of 2005, there was a constantly changing line up of Tuscans, Sagaris, T350s, Tamoras and my Cerberas. With comings and goings at all hours of the night to avoid M6 traffic and meet press call schedules, it's probably a wonder I didn't get an ASBO. Particularly when the Boss erupted into life at 4am. Lying in bed at night, I can hear the railway that's about 4 miles away. I imagine the Boss could be heard most of the way out to the M1.

After a few weeks, the Boss developed a fault. It first appeared as I came out of a roundabout and gave it a dab in 2nd before intending to short-shift to 3rd. The throttles stuck open which in a car capable of gaining 15mph per second was alarming. In the moment I had to decide what to do, I ruled out dipping the clutch (would buzz the motor) or switching it off (would lose the power steering/brake servo). I stood on the brakes, which meant I emerged from the roundabout in a cloud of smoke - front wheels locked, rears spinning. And then the throttle released. Three builders sat in a pickup truck were parked on the other side of the road - there was a row of three open mouths in the windscreen. I doubt I looked any less shocked myself.

It didn't do it again for a while until I took my youngest brother out for a spin one night. We went for a demonstration of its capabilities down a dual carriageway then I took the twisty route back to his house. The roads were cold and damp. Not far from his house, there is a sharp left-hand bend just before passing, downhill, under a narrow bridge. I dropped down to 2nd, and as I clogged it to go under the bridge, the throttles stuck open. I knew the drill this time - I stood on the anchors pronto. The Boss wasn't giving up without a fight though. The road was wetter and colder under the bridge so the locked front wheels couldn't resist the inexorable thrust from the spinning rear tyres. For a moment my brother thought I was show-boating then saw my face and the way I was wrestling with the steering until the throttles released. He hasn't got back in the car since.

Various attempts to fix the sticky throttle seemed to work to begin with but then the problem would return. To not touch cloth in my trousers required that I did not touch carpet with my right foot.

The Boss Cerbera and I had a busy schedule in 2005 - more of that next time, including its one and only (so far) timed acceleration run and Vmax attempt. After which the throttle got fixed.