While the ST grips tenaciously and changes direction keenly, it feels like it’s got dumbbells attached to the hubs

The Fiesta is about to go, but it’s leaving behind the answer to a question we posed when it arrived: was this car a grower and could it display a long-term charm that would plump-up its initial three-star rating, cautiously increased to three and a half stars after further driving on British roads?

Well, there’s definitely a lot to like about the ST. It’s useful and versatile in a small-hatchbacky way, and it feels nicely sturdy, rattly passenger seat and squeaky clutch notwithstanding. The biggest niggle with this car is one that you can usefully avoid simply by not specifying the optional and utterly useless satnav. If you want digital directions, buy one of those 300-quid things that clips to the dash, saving yourself both £700 and the vein-bursting irritation of repeatedly circling a roundabout shouting ‘For God’s sake say something!’

Not that endlessly scrubbing round in circles is a complete chore because, like many a modern Ford, the ST is blessed with a remarkable level of front-end grip, not to mention brilliantly matched control weights and the ability to react precisely and without slack when you turn the wheel.

Personally, I warmed to the looks too. Chunky, poised and – perhaps crucially – not like yer boggo 1.4. A lot of credit for this transformation must go to those spokey 17in alloys, which really separate this car from the rental-fleet herd. It’s just unfortunate that they also create a major dynamic flaw…

You see, while the ST grips tenaciously and changes direction keenly, it feels like it’s got dumbbells attached to the hubs. Those whacking great alloys pick up every rut and ripple in the tarmac, distracting the car from the more important business of flowing neatly along the road. They also introduce a weird and inconsistent glassiness to the steering that sometimes leads you to believe the front-end grip has suddenly disappeared. I have moaned several times that this car would be better off without such big rims and, although I didn’t mean for some bastard to take this literally last month by nicking them, spending some time with the ST’s little brother, the Zetec S, showed just how sweet a sporty Fiesta can be on smaller alloys.

Another borrowed Fiesta, the Group N rally version, showed how much nicer our Fast Fleeter might be with a lower driving position and some better engine breathing. Our ST’s motor did loosen up as the miles piled on, but it was never going to be a tuneful or rev-happy engine, even when I fitted a Pipercross air filter. Low down this feels like a sparky car – it’s very low geared, so that helps – but it feels frustratingly tight-chested at higher revs.

Don’t get the idea that the Fiesta ST is a bad thing, because it’s not. But what’s annoying about it is that, having experienced a little of what it could be like with smaller wheels, a lower driver’s seat and a better sounding, freer-revving engine, it seems like a missed opportunity, a decent car that could have been a truly great one. And that answers the question: three and a half stars is about right.