My favourite job!

Following on from the gruesome toads, here are my memories of a much nicer way I earned a crust.

Moving on a couple of years, I'm now approaching my 21st birthday and working behind the bar and living in, at 'The Millstone' in Derbyshire,  I enjoyed working here very much, this country pub was mostly frequented by the 'sports car brigade', and I had a lot of fun with the young, well heeled regulars.  The downside was - I had to work very long hours - 'Mine Hosts' loved to throw 'private' parties after closing time, and the bar staff would often still be serving the Landlord's friends at 2 0'clock in the morning - and then we would have to be up at 8.0am to clean the whole of the pub, including the private quarters.  So when I heard that the Lilybank Hotel in nearby Matlock was looking for someone to run the cocktail bar, I packed my bags in a flash!

And what a difference life was here!  I started work at 10.0am, the bar had already been cleaned by the hotel cleaner, even the dirty glasses had been washed, dried and put away - all I had to do was think about which outfit I was going to wear.....

When things were a bit too quiet, I'd take everything off the mirrored shelves behind the bar, dust off the various ornaments and re-arrange them - phew, tough work!

The funny thing was - I didn't drink! Never could understand the 'pleasures' of the likes of whiskey, gin or brandy - which was probably just as well, because the husband and wife managers, practically drank the place dry!  I always knew they'd had a good night by the number of empty soda syphons left outside their door, it was also a fairly good indication of how long it would take them to get up the next morning.......

Occasionally, I would deign to dust off the myriad bottles of liqueurs behind the bar, they came is such amazing containers, and the labels led one to believe that they must be quite delicious.  So I would unscrew the stopper and take a sniff - if it smelled nice, I'd tip a little onto my finger and gingerly raise it to my lips. They were all, without exception, too potent for my fledgling taste buds!

It's Easter 1962 - the local bye-elections are taking place in Derbyshire - for once the hotel becomes alive - buzzing with reporters, photographers and the leaders of the Liberal Party - Joe Grimond and Jeremy Thorpe, there's also a debonnaire, young (ish) man called Ludovic Kennedy, who has come to interview the two leaders.  Naturally, the cocktail bar became their 'headquarters', and as they were all staying in the hotel, they could drink all day and all night long, (and they did!) 

I enjoyed myself enormously during this long Easter weekend, there was one particular young man who would come into the bar and sit quietly reading his newspaper, it was only when he seemed to find the courage to approach the bar, and remain on one of the high stools, chatting, that I discovered how nice he was, and I began to look forward to seeing him.  His name, I discovered, was Peter Eckersley, and he was a reporter on the Daily Mail - he would also go on to write for Coronation Street, and eventually married one of the actresses - Janet Reid.

Discovering that I would soon be celebrating my 21st birthday, was an excuse for EVERYONE to celebrate early - the normally severe and unsmiling manageress, took it upon herself to concoct all manner of cocktails - paid for by our guests - in an attempt to get me to partake of an alcoholic drink.  She succeeded - and I discoverd the delights of gloriously named (and probably very expensive!) liqueur cocktails.  I never looked back, suddenly my awakened tastebuds were able to appreciate the joys of gin and lime (with lots of ice...) and pernod and lemonade.

But oh how deathly quiet the hotel seemed, after their departure...... sigh.

Tomorrow I'll tell you about the pop star who came to stay - and it was a case of bolt your doors girls!

Freda