There is always time for a good cigar and a glass of brandy

When we checked into “The Olde Bell” at Hurley we were given our allocated room number, told it was an upgrade to “The Old Malt House” and that Winston Churchill had stayed in the building during World War II. We were also invited to the Halloween events in the main building later that evening.

Myths about where he stayed abound across the country much like each village green with an ancient oak claims that it was their tree that King Charles II hid in to avoid the roundheads.

We went through a side gateway, past an old but still intact bomb shelter. The doors around the lobby showed the way to the rooms ahead, The Gardeen Room off to the left and The Library off to the right. The only indicator that we were in 2025 and not much earlier times were the signs telling guests there was to be no smoking or vaping within th building.

After leaving our luggage in the room we went for an explore. Less than five hundred yards from the hotel was an imposing brick built gateway. The gates were open and we could see some rather grand houses in the exclusive enclave that were engulfed with SUV’s and other high end cars. On one of the gate posts was a blue plaque. These are normally put in places marking famous peoples’ associations with a property. This plaque didn’t identify an individual. Instead, it commemorated the “Operation of Strategic Services” (OSS) that was based in one of the buildings we could see during the latter part of World War II. It was a communications centre for sending and receiving messages to and from secret agents working in Europe at the time.

It all made sense then. Churchill would not have come to this obscure village by the Thames in Berkshire for a bit of a jolly at the height of the war across Europe. He would have come here to meet the people at the station, to observe them working and learning what intelligence was being fed back to powers that be who were already planning the D Day landings.

Back at The Old Moat House we both ventured through the heavy oak door into the library. Once our eyes had adjusted to the sudden change from the light outside to the dark of the room we could see that the walls were covered in dark wood panelling and lined with shelves of books. In the centre was a large table with a green baize covering surrounded by chairs. The only signs of colour in the room in contrast to its dark wood were a few signs banning smoking and vaping.

Heather went on up to the room while I looked along the shelves. The collection included copies of The Bible, complete works of Shakespeare, plays by his rival Marlowe, Jung, Arthur Bryant, Neville Shute, Ernest Hemingway and Sauel Pepys. I found “The Saint in Europe” by Leslie Charteris and took it up to our room for some light reading.

I never ever sleep well for the first night away in any hotel. It must be something to do with the noises so different from home, the creaking of the buildings especially in old ones like we were staying in, over tiredness from the journey and an underlying restlessness.

When I woke up at five I knew that there was no way I was going to get back to sleep. I dressed as quietly as I could, got dressed and went downstairs heading for the library. On the staircase there were a couple of those plastic signs about smoking that had fallen off of the wall.

Last night the door to the library had opened easily. This morning, I was trying as hard as I possibly could to open it silently but there was some resistance. I tried again and it opened. The room was even darker than it had been the night before and the air was permeated by the smell of cigar smoke. I switched the light on and there on the table was a nearly finished cigar smouldering in ash tray. Next to it was brandy balloon whose contents were only just settling as if the glass had been very recently swirled to warm the brandy and release its aromas and flavours. It must have been a good brandy as some of its “legs” were still clinging on to the side of the glass doing their utmost to defy gravity. And there was an open book. It was one of the volumes of Pepys’ diaries that populated the shelves. It was open at the entry for 1st November 1668.

“Up, and with W Hewer at my chamber all tis morning…going further into my great business…”

I am sure Churchill had “great business” to attend to during his stay here but never before a good cigar and a decent brandy.