Hay assembled his 'bitsa' 3 litre using ingenuity and widely sourced parts, over eight years

Most of us give up any hope of owning our dream car, but spiralling values of vintage Bentleys in the early '80s didn't deter a teenage Michael Hay: "It was a book in our school library called Cars, Cars, Cars that really switched me on. On the back cover was an overhead shot of a 1926 3-litre Speed Model." Although Michael was only 14, that image triggered a craving to own one.

"In 1981, I was unlucky enough to be involved in a bicycle accident which landed me in hospital for three months, followed by another six struggling around on crutches. However, with the £3000 insurance money I started seriously looking for a Bentley. By then I was 17 and had already met several owners including Tim Houlding. He had a built, 4½ litre from scratch between '77 and '81 and his was the first Bentley I rode in. That exhilarating late-night ride will never be forgotten."

Hay hit gold when he spotted an advert in November 1982: "I caught a train up to see the owner, Douglas Miller. What remained was a chassis frame, front and rear axles, a radiator and a steering column, which was better than it sounds. It took all my insurance money. The removal company that transported the parts down to St Albans joked about my delivery of scrap when it finally arrived."

This discovery had started life as a 3-litre model with saloon coachwork by Harrison. It had been broken up in 1960: "The chassis had been really butchered. To shorten it from 10ft 10in to 9ft 9½in they had cut it and crudely arc-welded 1/4in plate on each side. The car had also been involved in an accident as the front dumb irons were twisted. The track rods were missing, the radiator shell was cracked and the front axle had no brake linkages or backplates."

It needed great imagination to see a finished car in the remains lying on the drive but Hay was inspired. It would be another four years before he passed his driving test, so trips in the quest for spares were by bicycle or train.

This, assembled, is the extent of the first pile of bits Hay bought in '82

Hay had joined British Aerospace in 1983 and trained as an engineer, which proved useful during the long rebuild. "Much of the car went in there and I came to know the sandblaster really well. Some aluminium welding was also done at work but most of the car was built in my parents' garden shed or a nearby lock-up."

Toughest task was finding the mass of missing parts: "I'd been a member of the BDC since I was 14, so I was by then pretty familiar with the cars. Over the years I collected bits from all corners of the country. My luckiest find was a cheap cylinder block which turned out to be better than expected. The engine I built myself, with the exception of the line boring."

"Often I would salvage and repair parts that other owners had discarded. The back axle I built up. It needed a new crown wheel and pinion as it had at one time run out of oil and was in a real mess. I made the shackles, the kingpins and the brake rods from scratch." The backplates are typical of Hay's ingenuity. He found a set that had been converted to hydraulics. To return to Perrot mechanical spec' he machined a block of Duralumin for each mounting bracket and fixed these with 'Hysol', a cold setting adhesive used on aircraft door frames. "They would have cost me £200 each to replace and I built the pair for £40."

The gearbox was his biggest nightmare: "The gears were worn but usable, but I had to remake many of the missing parts including the complete gearlever shaft from scratch."

Competition for parts was a problem, particularly with Hay's limited budget. One enquiry was typical when the vendor asked: "How many 8-litres do you have?" "I have one 3-litre and most of it is under my bed," was Hay's response. His eccentric case not surprisingly endeared him to owners and specialists.

Engine block — a lucky, cheap find

By January 1987 the Bentley was a rolling chassis although much of it was still mocked up. The body kit came as a pile of wood: "The cost to have one built professionally was by then outrageous. There were no drawings but the joints had been marked. I had no experience at woodwork, so I cut out the joints with my milling machine and chiselled out the radius. The body was assembled in the garden one summer holiday."

Slowly the car started to take shape, the scuttle was built, the wiring done and the dash fitted but certain parts were still elusive. It took Hay three years to put together a deal for a dynamo which eventually included a complex transaction involving three parties swapping bits.

By June 1990 Hay was close to start-up but he didn't quite make his target of the last BDC rally at Hatfield House. The starter motor running backwards didn't help.

For the first year the Bentley became known as 'the air conditioned special': "With its uncovered body it was very draughty, but I just wanted to learn to drive it — all I'd driven up to that point was a Morris Marina. There is no secret about driving a Bentley and, providing the car is set up correctly, it's very logical."

A return to student life to study philosophy has prevented Hay from using the Bentley on a regular basis hut, since completion in 1990, he has covered more than 25,000 miles. "It's still an unrivalled experience driving it alone on quiet country roads and, whenever I can, I get out behind the wheel."