Garden squares in London are sometimes called London’s best kept hidden secrets, not without good reason. Some gardens are private, only accessible to key holders living around the square.
Edwardes Square off Kensington High Street is one such enclave and I recall blagging my way into Grosvenor Square Gardens (for blogging purposes) three years ago. The ownership of these squares is an arcane legal cloister in which lawyers meet to discuss this abstruse area of the law. If I may digress, a friend lives on a London square where the gardens are private but where one resident was/is excluded, on the grounds that too many transient people lived there – it is a Youth Hostel.
You can imagine where I go when in the environs of St James’s and it’s not the gardens in St James’s Square – until yesterday. London today is populated with workmen. Eros is being buffed-up on Piccadilly Circus and there are many more men in high vis waistcoats than shoppers on Jermyn Street. Quite a few of the former were having an early lunch in the garden at the heart of St James’s Square. I was working up a thirst for a Winter Pimm’s before lunch; an aperitif recently invented at my club by a mixologist member with the assistance of our barman.
If I take you on a vapid virtual tour your eye will be drawn to the central equestrian bronze of William III.
In the north-east corner a cherry tree flourishes, planted in memory of Yvonne Fletcher who was killed on the square by a Libyan marksman from a window of that country’s embassy in 1984. She was twenty-five years old and her killer has never been brought to justice. If that’s not disturbing enough there is a temporary bronze nearby.
The south side of the square is more cheerful. The Nash summer house looks like a posh bus shelter.
Contemporary sculpture is not always a success but Marcus Cornish’s stag in the south-west corner is unexpected and pleasing. You may have seen his Paddington Bear at Paddington station.
Hurrah for the amateur mixologist. Surely you won’t leave your devoted readers hanging regarding the ingredients in a Winter Pimm’s? (If the exact details are not to be divulged, then perhaps at least the main components . . .)
Our bartender spilt the beans but, as you know, he is so discreet that I can seldom hear what he’s saying. However, I think sweet white vermouth with orange curaçao, gin, ginger beer and a splash of angostura bitters on the rocks makes a Winter Pimm’s. My club hasn’t invented a cocktail since 1861!