Moving on through the many years of Lucketts

"Someone tried to get me to kidnap her daughter," he tells me. "You see, I picked up the mother and she asked me to take her to a local chemist. Then she asked me to do her a favour.

"She wanted me to snatch her daughter out of the chemist and take her to a destination she would give me once we were on our way.

"Her daughter, she told me, was 18. So I said I couldn't do that. 'If you want me to take you to a chemist, I will do that and if your daughter wants to come, I'll take you both where you like'."

It transpired the mother did not like the person her daughter was working for, or rather the colour of the employer's skin.

"Her husband didn't mind her working there, and the daughter didn't mind working there but the mother was upset. So I took her down to the police station and told her they would help her."

In the course of their work, taxi drivers come across all shades of personality, experiencing at close quarters both the rich and the grubby tapestry of life and individuals: from the odd punter who does a 'runner' to the occasional female passenger who makes advances bored housewives believing it is a safe way to pick up a man.

And, rarely, in regard to the latter facilities, are they offered in lieu of payment for the fare but as an extra tip.

The intimacy engendered by being enclosed in a car for some time with a member of the opposite sex, may be the trigger-point for such rushes of blood.

Yet punters vary. As driver Stewart Walker remarkes: "It is a bit like being a hairdresser really.

"If they want to talk, you talk. Otherwise they sit staring out the window and don't say a thing.

"Some people tell you their entire life story. Some don't.

"Some of them will tell you quite confidential things simply because they do not know you."

Peter Cox, who is another of those who loves the freedom of the job, has been driving for 36 years. "People do strange things when they are in taxis. You can look round and discover they are naked in the back seat, changing their clothes. They don't warn you. They just do it."

While none at Lucketts have had a baby born in their taxi, a few would not be surprised if the odd one had been conceived.

Stewart chips in: "Maybe I had a few babies started in the taxi when I was working nights. In fairness, 99 per cent of punters are OK and 99 per cent of the drunks are OK.

"The worst are those who express a reluctance to pay. You get a whole mixture, like any job dealing with the public: you see the best or worst of it."

Bill Jefkins reflects on one occasion when he did fear one of his regular female passengers was going to give birth en route to the hospital.

"Did she flap? I most certainly flapped.

"I made a third lane down St Albans Road, but we made it in time. She named the baby, Bill, after me," he remembers fondly.

A more serious situation developed just recently for Lucketts driver Iftekhai Ahmed.

"I was taking a fare from Watford to Pinner when he became short of breath. He totally collapsed, I didn't know what to do.

"So I thought if I called an ambulance it would be too long so I took him to the hospital," he says.

"The hospital said it was a good job I made it on time, because he may not have lived. The very next day, his daughter phoned and thanked me for all I had done for them. I have only been driving a year.

"I was a bit nervous, as it is an experience I have not been through before," he adds.

Vic, the controller, having heard the anecdote previously, comments on the resultant problems if a customer finds himself incapable of making the complete journey and checks out en route.

"We had a bloke who died in transit. He was a regular and we used to take him from Radlett to the football.

"He died in one of those cars. As a driver, you have to go to the hospital, then the Town Hall. There are forms and all-sorts. It is quite long-winded, and there is the shock of it.

"Mind you, it must have been quite upsetting for the bloke as well," he observes drily.

It is by no means all doom and gloom. Bill Jefkins has picked up a few celebrities. "You pick up a few celebrities over the years, Sir John Mills, being one who is a very nice gentleman.

"George Michael, Hughie Green and John Barnes and all the footballers, I have ferried about town in my time."

These are the perks but taxi drivers often see the unseemly side of life.

In the old days when the Pickwick and New Penny discos flourished in Queens Road, just a brief walk from Lucketts office, there were 'punch-ups galore'.

As Vic, the controller, remarkes: "It seemed people did not feel they had had a good night out unless they came back with a bloody nose or a black eye."

"Yes," says Bill. "The front window has been broken a few times.

Two or three taxi drivers have been attacked."

"Which brings me to the subject of "runners" those who run off upon arriving at their destination without paying.

"You are always going to get a runner. Probably not that many. Sometimes you know they are likely candidates but sometimes you don't know at all. They surprise you," says driver Derek Crosdil, who has worked on the railways, buses and coaches but prefers the taxis.

"90 per cent of the work is local. I have my own car. We all have. The council tests it and licenses it annually. You get a council driving licence.

"Mind you, it has changed. The overheads for a taxi driver have got more expensive, mostly with insurance and running costs."

The drivers also have first-hand experience of traffic conditions.

"St Albans Road is the favourite for jams. Those so-called improvements have not made it any faster, just slowed it down," says Derek.

"It wouldn't surprise me at all if people who design the roads, don't even drive," the controller observes in his usual dry manner, in a tone that would be ideal for the Eyeore character in the Pooh saga.

Of course, the traffic has accelerated tremendously since the days of 'Lucketts Corner' under Bushey Arches when the firm was run by Jack Hutchings just after the war.

Lucketts had become a limited company by 1945 and when Jack took over the firm on the death of George Luckett in 1946, the company boasted one coach. Soon he had built these up to five in number but, by 1959, they had sold them off and were left with one AEC coach.

When Jack retired in 1960, his son George took over and promptly put all the drivers in uniform. Jack retired to Southsea while his son paid him a pension from the company.

George had turned his hand to most things, having served petrol, driven carriages and charabancs as well as cars.

A year after taking over, George brought in the two-way radios and, in 1964, the drivers became self-employed. They did not relish this development but, as far as George was concerned, it was the way to go. Around 1965, British Rail ended the lease on the premises, where Lucketts had been based under Bushey Arches they had used a World War II pill box in the location as a secure tyre-store, at a time when tyres were in short supply. By then the Railway Tavern had been renamed, in 1957 as The Arches, to avoid confusion with the Railway Arms in Aldenham Road and the Railway Tavern next to Watford High Street station.

However, for the majority of the locals it was still referred to simply as Lucketts. Regrettably, the historic pub fell victim to the traffic problems surrounding the Arches and it was demolished in 1973. By then, however, Lucketts, having briefly had a depot in St Albans Road, had moved to their present location in King Street.

July 4, 2002 17:30