What confuses at first is the P25’s low-end torque: it will pull strongly with no sign of road car lag from 2000rpm. But it’s best for the gearbox to keep it turning faster. Warm to that task and you will start emitting those wonderful wap-waah, wap-waah downchanges that for many will justify the entire outlay.
The chassis is magnificent – as grippy as any road user could need and almost utterly devoid of attitude as it grips. The steering wheel is firm and stable in your hands. There’s a hint of cornering roll, just enough, but the car tracks like an arrow, deviating obligingly when asked yet offering brilliant turn-in as the first resort. Want to turn tighter? Just add lock. Need more? Turn again and feel the instant, precise response. In the P25, slip angles don’t seem to apply.
For all its outrageous capability, the car’s creators remain somewhat divided on how its suspension should be tuned. This is still a prototype. Some think the price demands plushness, along with a better-damped throttle for those of us, unused to competition cars, whose every right-foot tremor is transmitted faithfully to the powertrain. For now, the P25 is set up to be driven very decisively, so it’s a challenge for those of us who have been feather-bedded by road car controls that hide our mistakes. Of course, for more than half a million quid, Prodrive will give you the P25 you want.
If I owned this car, I would use it much more than, say, a McLaren. It’s smaller and more agile. Despite the price, you can park it easily. There’s more room on the road, too. And for all its low seating, the all-round visibility is great, courtesy of old-fashioned thin pillars. I would overdose on the post-4000rpm shout of the engine (which makes no promises it can’t deliver) and enjoy the challenge of the gearbox, albeit with a hint of extra throttle damping to cover my indiscretions.
Above all, I would be thinking about driving an important car, a machine that commemorates a golden era of motorsport. Also a car that proves that supercars don’t all have to adopt a particular shape and size. Best of all, however, would be the sense of purpose. As Lapworth said just before we parted company and he drove back to base: “First of all, this car is built to be effective. Sure, it feels good, and sure, it’s impressive. But most of all, it’s effective.”