Loose Canon

It could not have been better stage-managed. Brian Brindley died over dinner at The Atheneum Club in London having consumed stuffed crab, and as boeuf en croute was being prepared in the kitchen. Surrounded by his acolytes, he would certainly agree with Sydney Smith that heaven was foie gras and trumpets but his heaven started on earth. There was much sadness in Brian Brindley's life. Emerging from Oxford (Pi in the High) he eventually took up an appointment as a Vicar in Reading having fought vigorously against the ordination of women and other manifestations of modernity. But one fine day a journalist from a nasty Tabloid tricked him into talking about his sexual life and fantasies, recorded the interview and printed extracts in his newspaper. The result was devastating and Brindley resigned. He retired to Brighton and was received into the Roman Catholic Church. But in the process he became a hero to countless thousands of people who love the Old Order. High Tories for whom ritual remains of the utmost importance. And having been stitched up by a tabloid newspaper only increased the admiration in which he was held. Alan Bennett, leader of the fan club, has written a brilliant op