I met Pam Ayres in a Tenerife hotel

Still jaded from the journey

And fuddled from the flight

The dinner hall a Babel throng

The food a cheery sight

Humanity resplendent

Could I be a***d to look

But wearily, exhaustedly

I focussed on my book


Avoiding conversation

But curious nonetheless

I peered askance at fellow guests

To analyse their dress

A fork mid face and platter

My eye beheld a dream

A long ad-mi-red heroine

Applying salad cream!


I kicked my hapless husband

Suggesting covert gaze

‘It’s her! I swear! Pam Ayres herself!

Ne-ver in my born days!’

Guffawing and harrumphing

My love pooh-poohed my find

So I began surveillance

And stalked her from behind


For 24 hours? 36?

I tried to catch her eye

And once or twice a nod she gave

And winked as she passed by

The chiselled bob, the crinkled smile

So sure I’d made a match

And readied then my book and pen

To thrust before my catch


Then 3 days in- unthinkable!-

Pam lurched towards my side

With knowing glint and gurning grin

She spoke with injured pride


‘Du bist ein English damme

Ich kenne was du thinken

Ich heisse nicht Pam Ayes

Aber so frequentisch am linken

Mein Mann, er heisse Helmut

Noch nie Dudderley, ach so

Und wir in Bremen wohnen

Noch in Oxfordshire, also’.


Und mit ein grosse saluten

Sorry, and with a stiff salute

She wheeled around and took her leave

My husband, in hysterics

Chuckled deep into his sleeve


I brooded on this incident

My disappointment deep

No greeting from my heroine

Just words that made me weep

Dejectedly, I sought the lift

Escaping to my room

But then, raw Cotswolds vowels

Surreptitiously did boom


‘Another one, me darlin’

Did you see that woman’s face?’


‘Oi surely did, Dud, number foive

This German scam is ace!’


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