Brian Viner: 'I've opened fetes, named beers, judged gardens, fairy cakes and perry'

Home And Away

The voice on the telephone was frightfully well spoken. "Mr Viner?"

"Yes."

"Ah splendid. You don't know me but my name is Rupert Harewood-Stewart..."

I confess that I looked at Jane, who was chopping parsley, and rolled my eyes. When phone calls start like that they usually continue with something like "...and I was wondering whether you could possibly write about me in your column in The Independent? I have discovered a foolproof way of keeping foxes away from chickens, which simply requires each chicken to be sprayed daily with Chanel No. 5. Foxes loathe it."

But it is both churlish and hypocritical of me to complain about the low-level recognition factor, or whatever comes below Z-list celebrity, with which this column and the books it inspired have imbued me in parts of north Herefordshire. The truth is that I enjoy it. I'm proud to be patron of the fund-raising campaign to repair Marden church roof (its total currently nudging £40,000, I'm delighted to report), having previously been a patron only of the King's Head, the Queen's Arms and the Fisherman's Rest. And it's lovely to be asked to open village fêtes. I've opened several, which is how I know that you can't cut a ribbon with garden shears, and indeed can make a complete pillock of yourself trying, although that's another story.

Since moving from city to country in 2002 and chronicling the subsequent experience in these pages I have judged gardens, fairy cakes, cider and perry (which is how I know that there's no point even trying to string a coherent sentence together after 130 sips of fermented fruit juice, but that too is another story). I've been asked to name a new beer, and I've cut the first sod at the new Ludlow eco-park. I've even declared an alpaca sale open. Which doesn't make me Bruce Willis or even Wincey Willis but at least it's more than Liz Jones, upsetting the locals down there in Somerset, has been invited to do. And I keep getting asked to give talks, too. Admittedly, the Ledbury branch of the University of the Third Age isn't the Royal Society, but then I'm not Tony Blair or even Lionel Blair. And that's the end of that joke, I promise, even if I can think of another B-list celebrity who shares a surname with a A-lister.

The point is that it's important to keep one's level of renown in perspective. Which is easy enough round here, where I tend to get the speaking, sipping, snipping or sod-cutting call once the few genuine local celebrities have declared their unavailability. The famous gardener Monty Don is one, actor John Challis another, and Jo Brand another, on account of the fact that her mum lives in these parts. But sometimes, one's sense of perspective gets washed away in the flood waters of flattery. And so it was during my phone conversation with Rupert Harewood-Stewart, whose name I have changed to protect the innocent.

"I was wondering if you'd be generous enough to do something for me," he said. I said that I'd try. "I have a friend who lives near Ross-on-Wye," he continued, "who is starting an organic vineyard. I've been down there and it really is a remarkable operation, and he wants to have an official opening, at which he'd like someone in the public eye to say a few words."

Before I could say bashfully that I'd be only too happy, and what date did he have in mind, and let there be no question of a fee though a bottle of the organic wine might be nice, Mr Harewood-Stewart ploughed on. "I am advising my friend on PR and what he and I would like is someone highly respected in the Herefordshire community, someone with a strong appreciation of the county's unique qualities, someone, frankly, who people would turn up to listen to."

I don't mind admitting that at this point, I preened. But I also felt that a little burst of modesty was called for. "Highly respected in the Herefordshire community" seemed a little over the top, and I wasn't sure that my name would be all that much of a draw in Ross-on-Wye. But there was no interrupting Mr Harewood-Stewart. "So I do hope, Mr Viner, that you don't mind me calling you," he said, "because my friend and I were wondering, if it's not too much trouble, whether you could possibly put us in touch with Monty Don."