The woman – whose name I had no intention of ever knowing – and I sat in silence while she licked her lips and I tried to decide what to eat. It was fair to assume that since she booked the table, she would also be footing the bill. This took the edge off her distracting eroticism as I was benefiting from the natural glow one gets when saving money.

“Say something dirty” she purred, just as I reached the soups.

“I beg your pardon?” I asked.

“Say something dirty to me, you scrumptious little saddo” she replied.

“Something dirty?”

“Yes – something really dirty.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to. Say the dirtiest thing you can think of.”

“Excrement” I said.

“Oh.”

“Excrement smeared on the walls of a gaol in protest.”

“That’s not quite what I had in mind” she told me. Obviously her concept of dirty and mine do not see eye to eye. I’m pleased to say that hers is obviously the erroneous one as every word I said conforms to the definition in my Stout Boys Pocket Dictionary.

“Say something erotic” she declared. Women – always changing the subject. I should’ve had my employee on hand to take notes. Fortunately, this was a cul-de-sac as I don’t know anything erotic. I remember the time Francois Devine was given the wrong medication but that simply made him erratic and my Stout Boys Pocket Dictionary confirms that the two words have substantially different meanings. She took my silence to mean I wasn’t going to say anything erotic.

“Then tell me something fascinating” she offered. “Tell me what was happening thirty seven years ago today.”

Things were looking up – there was a chance, just a chance, that this wouldn’t be an excruciating evening after all.

“The cast were in rehearsals for episode two of the story you will no doubt know as ‘Doctor Who and the Silurians’. The episode, I hardly need mention, was recorded two days later in studio 1 of the BBC’s Television Centre.”

She moaned at this piece of news. At first I thought she might be ill and I could run away having told her I was going to fetch medical assistance. Then she turned the moan into an ‘Oh yes’ and I realised she was enjoying my fascinating technical recollections.

“Thirty five years ago today” she panted.

“The cast and crew were recording episode five of the production known as ‘The Sea Devils’. It was the first of a two day block utilising studio 8 at the BBC’s Television Centre.”

“Oh god yes” she cried.

“Excuse me” said a lady behind me. “I’d like to hear what she’s just heard.”

“Thirty five years ago today, the cast and crew of the ‘Doctor Who’ series were recording episode five of ‘The Sea Devils’. It was the first of a two day block utilising studio 8 at the BBC’s Television Centre” I repeated.

“Oooh – yes – I know how she feels. Ohh – golly – it’s been a good few years. Get your hat, Alfred, we’re going home.”

With that she and her husband quickly paid their bill and rushed from the restaurant. It was heart-warming to know I had kindled an interest in telehistory in two of the older members of the community. Although, on the downside, it would mean I might not be able to park in the disabled space at the written records archive in future.

“Twenty six years ago today” panted my dinner companion. She appeared to be having terrible trouble with her napkin as she was frantically ferreting around in her lap as I disgorged my fascinating technical information.

“The crew would’ve been preparing for the location filming for the story you know as ‘Logopolis’. It commenced on the 16^th December and was completed on the 22^nd of the month.”

“Yes yes yes.”

“Indeed.”

“Forty years ago” she panted.

“The cast were rehearsing episode three of ‘The Highlanders’ which was recorded at studio 1 of the Riverside Studios later that week. They were also preparing for the Ealing filming required for ‘The Underwater Menace’ which took place on Stage 2 between the 14^th and 16^th of the month.”

“Mmmmmmmm” she squealed.

“This is all very well – Francois Devine will never play such games with me because he knows what I know and I know what he knows and we both know that knowing what each other knows means the game will either be over very quickly or last forever. We’ve never been brave enough to have a go and find out which it would be. But, and I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, I…”

Before I could finish my excuses she made further demands of me.

“Thirty years ago today”

“I really don’t think I…”

“The day I was born” she added.

“Oh very well. It was the first day of location filming for ‘The Talons of Weng-Chiang.”

“More”

“Filming lasted until the 24^th of December.”

“Keep going.”

“Filming locations were Ealing Studios, Wapping Pier Head, Wapping High Street, Clink Street, Southwark, Ivory House, St Katherine’s Dock…”

She banged the table and began moaning like an American criminal being electrocuted in line with the perfectly reasonable penal code in force in the state in which he was foolish enough to commit one of the clearly defined capital crimes.

“… East Smithfield, St Mary Overy’s Wharf, Cathedral Street, Bridewell Place…”

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

“…Broad Oak, Cambridge Park in Twickenham, Northampton Repertory Theatre, St Crispin’s Hospital…”

“OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

“…and the empty rates office in Fish Street, Northampton.”

“That was amazing” she gasped.

“A simple feat of memory – I find a brief overview of a few key facts is essential to keep in ones mind while working. It saves having to look up the simplest and most common place of details.”

“I mean, like, wow. That was the second best birthday present of the day.”

“Now, as I was trying to say, I really don’t have time to sit here in this above average restaurant playing trivia games with you. I think I’ll skip dinner if you don’t mind.

“Just what I had in mind” she said, making absolutely no sense at all. “Let’s leave this crummy joint and go upstairs to my room.”

“On the other hand, the veal does look superb.”

“Forget the veal – come with me you foxy little savant.”

“What have you,” I gulped involuntarily, “in mind?”