A Tuesday Tale - a cocktail party

A lot of years ago, whilst working in London, I wangled, obtained, received an invitation to a pre-Christmas cocktail party at Number 11 Downing Street. For overseas friends, this isn't the Prime Minister's London home, it's right next door to Number 10 though and is normally occupied by his 'mate' the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

I had no-one to take as an escort so I asked a work colleague (who I secretly liked, a LOT) if he would accompany me. We were both single at the time and whoop, whoop, he agreed - not in a huge rush of enthusiasm I should say. I think it was more because I was a bit like Cinderella who wanted so badly to go to the ball - or perhaps Bridget Jones who always lands in a pickle.

Our office was within easy walking distance and on the designated evening we worked late then I changed into a dark 'cocktail party suitable' dress and we left the office and wandered up to the venue - err, my escort strolled and I tottered (on impossibly high heels). Straight in through the gates to Downing Street and then into No. 11 - well, after almost being strip searched.

I do remember thinking they could do with a new stair carpet as we went up the stairs, the walls of which were lined with caricatures of past Chancellors. The reception room where the cocktail party was being held was very grand and, without giving any secrets away, I doubt if I'll ever stand right beside a Gainsborough again with a glass of I forget what in one hand and a sausage roll in the other! The nibbles were delicious and, not having had an evening meal I did feel a bit peckish - in between circulating and socialising  I managed to at least stop the tummy rumbling!

My escort had also been circulating but he arrived back at my side and said 'Can I have a quiet word' - ooer, I went all weak at the knees thinking that he was about to say something rather nice/how much he liked me/compliment my outfit or maybe even ask me on a date!! All ears, I coyly tilted my head to one side, he bent forward and whispered these magical words in my ear..........'I think you'd probably want to know this -  you've got flaky pastry crumbs all over your front'!!

Right there and then my glass coach turned back into a pumpkin :( But on hindsight it was probably better that I had the chance to brush the offending crumbs away - a bit like getting home after a dinner party, looking in the mirror and seeing a wedge of bright green spinach between your two front teeth!

Oh, I almost forgot to say - my escort from that evening is currently having his morning shave - yup, it was Len. So things did all turn romantic - eventually :))

Di
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