Inside it’s all pretty minimal, with some ugly plastics, but there are two rather surprising Back-to-the-Future digital screens displaying gears, speed, revs, fuel and so on.
Hit the red electronics button to bring it to life, waggle the immobiliser and push the blue-lit pulsating starter button and there’s a whirr from the engine, intrusive but not outrageous.
Get the E10S moving, however, and that turbo soon kicks in, very loudly. It is, frankly, hilarious; I haven’t heard anything that strange since Audi took diesel R8s to Le Mans and they puffed and whined their way round. The car sounds more like a jet engine, with a loud scuff and whoosh of air every time you floor the accelerator pedal.
Edwards admits some customers hate it and want it quietened down, but I adored its strange nature.
The steering is linear and there are no nasty surprises from the chassis - it’s rear-wheel drive and will show you the back end if you floor it in a roundabout, but it signals its intentions ahead of time and is easily gathered up with another puff of the turbo.
Is the E10 a match for a Caterham Seven? That’s a matter of taste, and personally I prefer the Fifties styling and quirkiness of a Caterham. Will it trouble Lotus or Ariel? That’s a more interesting question; the E10 certainly has more raw dynamic appeal than the former.
Put it this way: if you’re after some affordable thrills on track or road, a E10 is certainly worth considering.