Doris Rogers is a versatile ‘mum’

TO talk to the woman who combines motoring and acting and whose latest part is a “mum” I made a date with Doris Rogers. She switched on the ignition, put the car into first gear, released the handbrake and slid smoothly into the thick Manchester traffic.

“Lady drivers?” she said. “I think there’s a lot of nonsense talked about us. If you get a good woman driver, she’s better than a man. She takes more care.”

She pulled up gently at a zebra crossing to let a bunch of pedestrians across. Two male drivers in front of her hadn’t bothered. Doris lifted an eyebrow in my direction.

“I see what you mean,” I said, feeling that our sex had been let down rather badly.

On Thursday, in Granada’s Family Solicitor she plays a Yorkshire mum, whose daughters get into trouble with the law. With us in the car was one of her “daughters” in the play, Daisy Frisby, played by Diane Aubrey.

Driving is a passion with Doris Rogers. She uses her car extensively for her work and her busy social life.

“I’m thinking of taking the advanced driving test,” she said. “I enter rallies, you know — small ones.”

I posed a delicate question. “How long have I been driving?” she replied. “I shudder to think. I bought my first car in 1936, if that gives you a clue. It cost me £15. It was a magnificent two-seater.

“What bodywork! I used to be sore for weeks after a long drive. It was like trying to pull a bus round corners.

“I loved that car, though, I sold it eventually — for £7 10s.”

Since then Doris has had a succession of cars.

“My favourite car? I liked them all. I had one of the first baby cars in London. The buses used to terrify me. I was convinced they would run right over me. And then, of course, there were the London policemen. One told me he thought I was going to run up his sleeve!”

We passed the Manchester Albert Hall. “See that place?” asked Doris, never taking her eyes off the road.

“I remember being on stage there when I was about nine. Very odd. I was reciting poetry in French. I can’t imagine why. No one understood a word!”

Doris talked about the kind of drivers she hates: “I can’t stand those people who amble along at a snail’s pace, hogging the crown of the the road.

“Not, of course, that I’m a speed hog. I’m far too nervous to drive fast.

“My favourite drivers? Lorry drivers. Those are the real gentlemen of the road.”