IT IS only a stubby little button, less than half an inch across, standing unobtrusively on the door panel, somewhere near the door handle.

Its purpose: to adjust the angle of the door mirror. By hand. There's another on the passenger's door, where the driver can't easily reach it.

It's not, therefore, adjusted electronically from a handy all-purpose control as so many cars are these days. Even our own seven-year-old saloon does it all from a power button near the driver.

Not on this Skoda. And this sums up the dilemma for the VW Group, which has now grown so large that it encompasses five different brands, at very different levels of the market: Skoda leads on to Seat, then comes the main Volkswagen catalogue, followed by upmarket Audi and now the even posher Bentley.

So it's not that VW doesn't know how to make a power mirror adjuster. Its problem is which of its marques is entitled to this level of luxury. Where does it draw the lines of distinction?

Audi, at prices which don't even start until above £20,000, attacts a very different type of customer from a Seat, with only one model breaking that £20,000 barrier.

The matter of equipment levels is, therefore, a major decision within the VW fold, which now encompasses cars costing the best part of a quarter of a million, but starting at a modest £6,695.

Lowest price in the group, eh? That'll be the Skoda, presumably.

No, £6,695 would buy you the Seat Arosa.

Cheaper than a Skoda, eh? Well, maybe so after all, the Arosa is a tiny car. So the Skoda comes next?

Er, no. Next up is £7,195, and that's for the cheapest VW Lupo (similar to the Arosa).

Hold on, what about the Skoda?

Prepare yourself for a shock. The cheapest Skoda, a Fabia hatchback, is priced at £7,685 almost a thousand more than the cheapest Seat.

I don't understand these price levels. But now comes the next surprise: the entry model for this latest Fabia saloon is priced at a substantial £9,100 (for the 1.9-litre SDI diesel, producing 64bhp).

That's not only not very cheap it's a darned sight more expensive than . . . well, almost any mini you can name. A Rover 25, which oozes style and is filled with all sorts of goodies to cosset you, can be had for £7,995.

After all that VW has done to improve Skoda's image in the battle to shake off that old reputation, why does it saddle the marque with such high prices?

It's one thing to insist that Skodas are really VWs in disguise (apart from the Skoda logo on the steering wheel, the driver would never know it wasn't a real VW), but it's a very different matter to convince the buying public especially when buyers can have their pick of the entire market for less.

And in these days when most cars are well-stacked with equipment, why does poor old Skoda appear less posh than the rest?

Ah well, time will tell. The Fabia is still a fine car. In planning it, VW allowed Skoda first use of the platform which was designed for the new-generation Polo, not here until spring.

The resulting Fabia was a smashing little hatchback, and not really so little. It has proved what an excellent car it is, and quickly won an impressive collection of awards.

It was named car of the year for 2000 by What Car? and Auto Express. This year both those magazines named the perky hatchback Best Supermini.

So it is a very good car. OK?

Now there's this saloon, which is everything the hatchback offers plus a boot, so you can carry more luggage (the Fabia's somewhat upright shape helps to provide more room for taller items), all hidden from prying eyes because it's a proper boot.

To try it out, some friends conveniently asked me to take them to the airport, en route for a long stay in the winter sunshine, and there was plenty of loadspace for all they needed to help them survive.

Load space is even larger than the Fabia estate, and with the rear seats folded down, it's even bigger.

But it's inside the cabin where the space is most valuable. Because of the car's longer-than-average wheelbase, legroom is excellent for both front and rear seats. It's tall and wide too.

Storage space is good, with pockets all over the place, and cup-holders.

My test car was officially the Classic SA, although the car is available in only one trim level. Air conditioning is an extra, but the usual face vents are fine.

Two 1.4-litre petrol versions are available, and aren't much more expensive: £9,400 for the 100bhp and, strangely, £500 more for the less-powerful (75bhp) automatic.

All have power steering, but ABS is an extra on all but the top model.