The Steak & Kebab


There are some places that inadvertently feature as a key location in your life.

The Steak & Kebab Restaurant. The name just screams prawn cocktail, steak & chips and the obligatory Black Forest Gateaux, or, as a friend of mine always calls it, 'Dark Forest' which I always think gives the desert an air of RR Tolkien. In fact, this time-warp restaurant situated in a leafy square in the Manchester suburb of Didsbury, managed to serve up a great European menu alongside the  steaks.

1981 - I climb the narrow curving staircase leading from the main restaurant to an upstairs room. Joyously crammed with a long trestle table. The white linen looking cream in the candle-light. I join the party for after-dinner  drinks. Marion, my house mate of only a few weeks is 21 and this is her celebration party. The other guests include Marion's parents and sister and a good number of young friends. An open Methusala of champagne helped me overcome the crippling fear of a room full of strangers and a birthday girl I hardly knew.

1982 - Marion and I are having dinner. I forget how beautiful she is because I see her every day. A guy approaches the table and says "I'm really sorry to disturb you but I'm a really big fan". Marion looks at the guy, then to me and back to him. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?". The guy laughs. Marion's confused, I'm confused. The guy is persistent "Look I know you are out for dinner but could I please get your autograph?" He holds out a paper napkin and a pen. Marion tries to grasp the situation once more "Why would you want my autograph? I'm not anyone, I mean I'm not famous". The guy looks back slightly embarrassed to his friends at his table and back to Marion. "you're Sharon Davies". Marion looks at me and laughs out loud, covering her mouth in that way she does. "I'm not. Really. I don't even swim that well". It' really awkward but I am drunk enough to find some enjoyment in the cripplingly embarrassing situation. The guy isn't buying it "Look I know you want your privacy but I really am a fan and would love it if you signed this for me". She new she was beaten. Still giggling she takes the pen and asks "What's you name?". "Shaun. If you could make it out to Shaun that would be great". Marion signs the napkin in broad bleeding inky strokes 'To Shaun. Lots of Love. Sharon Davies. xx'

1982 - Dinner. Two bottles of Chardonnay and some dessert wine on board. We have that conversation that only people under 22 may have. Marion fixes me with a glassy stare. "When are you Thirty". I pause. Maths was never my strong point. "1992..no 93. Why?". Suddenly serious "We should meet here on your thirtieth birthday. Wherever we are in the world and whoever we are with, we should make a deal that we meet up here for dinner at 8.30. What do you say?". I pick up my dessert wine and offer it as a toast "you're on!".
On the 26th January 1993 I was in Birmingham in the third week of rehearsals for a national tour of 'Aspects of Love'. Marion was in her apartment on West 34th Street NYC.

2009 - I was in Manchester visiting a friend for the weekend. I was due to drive back to Glasgow on Sunday afternoon and my friend suggested that we went somewhere for lunch. He lived in Didsbury and I told him about a place that used to be called the Steak & Kebab Restaurant and how it was my favourite haunt as a teenager. We walked over and found that the place was now called Dimitri's. Still a restaurant and pretty much the same décor and menu as I remembered. We got a table  in the corner and ordered the Sunday roast. Over drinks I reminisced about my nights with Marion. "What happened to her?" my friend asked. "Oh, she travelled the world, met a guy in Thailand. Married him and went to live in New York. I went over to see her for a week in 1990". He asked "and when were you last here?" "Oh, must have been 1985 or so, 20 odd years ago. In fact we sat at the table there" I turned and pointed toward a table on the opposite side of the room where a couple were seated. A man I didn't know and Marion. We were both revisiting the restaurant for old times sake. 24 years after our last visit. Apart from the amazing surprise of meeting up again I could not help but wonder at fate.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Hitler's head in a box (spolier alert!)

Blackpool Opera House 1980