Tales from The George on Holyport Green

Don and Anne Smith were what could best be described as "infrequent regulars" at The George which is how I got to know them.

Anne worked for the BBC either at the Television Centre in West London or Broadcasting House in the West End. Don also worked in the West End where he was head chef at the famous and still running nightclub, "Annabelle's". His working hours were the reason for them being "infrequent irregulars".

They asked me if I could help them at a house party they were holding on a Sunday before Christmas. I went to their home in Court Close at the appointed time and was greeted by Don smoking a cigar and holding a glass of champagne.

"Come in, come in" he urged me "Anne, Alan's here...go on in, she's in the living room."

The room was filled with cigar smoke, music and heat from the open fire. Nothing seemed to be ready for the guests who would be arriving in an hour.

Anne waxed lyrically about the baritone voice coming from the stereo system.

Don then told me what was going to happen. Anne would be the hostess, he would be getting the food ready in the kitchen and my role was to meet, greet, take coats upstairs, sort out drinks and keep them flowing. It was while I was taking the coats upstairs I noticed a series of framed menu cards with caricatures of Don poking his head around a door at some diners. The thing was these weren't just menu cards from restaurants but were from Downing Street where he had prepared state dinners.

Before long the house was filled with guests and the party was in full swing. Poor old Dieter Fischer-Diskau, despite his best baritone efforts, was overpowered by the conversations and banter that flowed as freely as the drinks.

In any lulls I had in my duties I would help Don in the kitchen anyway I could. It was a small kitchen and Don took up most of the floor space but we managed to work together. I flitted around picking up washing up, drying washed dishes and anything else he needed help with. I had to flit around him as once he got into that kitchen his feet seemed to take root to the floor and they never moved. It was just his upper body and arms that moved like a gyroscope. And somehow from that small kitchen he produced a large enough banquet to feed all of his guests and still have some left over.

The time flew and by about six in the evening the gusts started to leave. I collected the coats from upstairs while Don and Anne said their "goodbyes" to their guests at the front door. Everyone left filled with good cheer, good food and liquid hospitality.

After the last guest had gone I started to clear up the glasses, crockery and cutlery.

"No, no, no Alan...we'll do that later...sit down and relax...at last I can hear my Dieter" Anne said.

Don put an envelope in my hand and thanked me.

The next party they organised was on a mid summer Sunday and followed the same format as the pre-Christmas one.

I arrived at eleven as arranged and again Dieter Fischer-Diskau was filling the house with his baritone notes competing with the trills of the birds in the garden. Deutsche Gramophone album covers were scattered on the table.

Just like last time we sat around for a few minutes having a glass of champagne before they went up stairs to get changed. Just like last time the first gusts arrived at mid-day and the party started. And somehow Don, with his feet planted to the kitchen floor managed to prepare enough food for all of the guests without moving his feet an inch.

Everything went as planned, that is if there ever was a plan. Everyone enjoyed themselves and by about six gusts started leaving. By half six there was just the three of us.

"At last I can hear my Dieter again..here Alan, I think we should all have a relax listening to Dieter again" Anne said as she flopped on to the sofa.

I asked Don why they never had parties on a Saturday.

"Ah, that's because I am normally working and there is another reason" Don answered.

"Oh?"

"If you have a party on a Saturday not many people have to go to work on Sunday. They would hang on until the next morning which I don't mind but...most people have to go to work, do the school runs and all that so they never stay late. They are more than welcome to and we never told them the afternoon would finish at six. They just decide that is the best time to go. Anne, could we have some Brubeck now?"