The Marquis

(Chandos Place, Covent Garden).

I was drinking a Czech lager in the space known as ‘Dickens Corner,’ in The Marquis Pub.

‘Dickens,’ because he used to drink here (and everywhere else, it seems). I mulled over his time spent in the nearby Charing Cross area, slaving at the age of 12, in a factory that made boot blacking.  His family were in the Marshalsea debtor’s prison. Like most writers he was; skint, but also absorbing his wretched experiences (like most writers) which he later used in writing ‘Little Dorrit,’ ‘Oliver Twist,’ ‘Nicholas Nickleby’ and so on.     

          You can’t brood on the distant past for too long in this lively pub. My mate Steve introduced me and I regretted that it had taken me so long to get there, I’ve had plenty of time, it has served beer in one name or another since the 1600s.

          The small bar is typical of a London boozer, with a good selection of beers, so that’s a plus for a start. Dylan growling ‘Positively Fourth Street,’ gave some drinkers ‘a lot of nerve’ to sing along. I gave the pub a double plus for the great music, but the best was hissing gently behind the bar.  

          We were served by, ‘The Girl from Ipanema.’ OK. I’m in a musical mood, but she was from Brazil and ‘young and lovely’. It was then that I noticed that they were spinning vinyl records. Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits was on the turntable and the back bar was stacked with vinyl albums and 45s. Customer’s requests were welcomed.

          When the stylus lifted from Bob’s tones, I left the ‘Corner’ to make my request. We had enjoyed a few tracks of ‘Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,’ and a beer or two, when a guy walked in with a guitar case hung over his shoulder and joined a group at the bar. He wouldn’t have looked out of place on the sleeve of a late Beatles album. Big hair, moustache, jacket and tinted specs, obviously a performer.  

          The bar is small and friendly so when I bought the next round we got to chat. He was Tom MCQ, a resident act at the Marquis; busker, storyteller, poet and singer-songwriter. He picked up my scouse accent, so that sparked off tales of my youth (misspent, but not much snooker) growing up to the Beatles sound, our local band. ‘Saw them 100s of times for about three shillings a time.’ (15 pence to our younger readers) And all that! When we shook hands I said, ‘Shake the hand that shook the hand of John Lennon.’ He liked it and so did the Girl from Brazil who took our picture. Tom then gave Steve and I his P.R. badges.

          With our last drink Steve requested the Rolling Stones. The rocking, ‘Get Off My Cloud’, brought the drinkers to their feet, singing and calling ‘Hey You,’ to each other. A pleasure to be there, a great atmosphere with a friendly happy crowd and staff and of course great vinyl.    

As we left Tom MCQ said that, ‘Shake the Hand that Shook the Hand of John Lennon,’ sounded like a song title. Wow!

Copyright © Ken Tracey 2024