When Brian Brindley, who held his 70th birthday party in 2001 in the Athenaeum Club, returned from the lavatory, he asked his young handsome friend to do up his flies. ‘Oh Brian. That’s the first time someone has asked me to do *up* their flies,’ Martin retorted.

Moments later, he collapsed on to the thick pile carpet. Brian was pronounced dead by a doctor member, but clubs don’t like people dying on the premises so paramedics collected his body. I joined him in an ambulance which sped off to St Thomas’ hospital. When I turned round, I could see his corpse which was being pumped with electricity jumping up and down in the back.

Brian had the local branch of GYMNOS coming to stay for Christmas. This acronym stands for Gay Young Men’s Naturist Association

Brian had the local branch of GYMNOS coming to stay for Christmas. This acronym stands for Gay Young Men’s Naturist Association

At the hospital, we were joined by my partner Keith Day and Damian Thompson, author of his famous obituary. He was then officially pronounced dead.

Brian Brindley had been disgraced ten years earlier by the News of the World and went to live in a dank basement flat in Brighton where he resigned from Holy Trinity, Reading and left the world of ecclesiastical responsibility; he had been a Canon of Christchurch, Oxford and Chairman of the Business Subcommittee of General Synod and had led the fight against women priests.

He had no interest in finance, so when his financial advisor revealed that he had an annuity policy which had come to fruition and he had £65,000, he enthusiastically bought a four storey house in Western Terrace in Brighton which he decorated fabulously in a combination of styles, including the Sir John Soane’s Museum and Brighton Pavilion. The rear dining room was painted with murals of Brighton, including one of Brian in full ecclesiastical clobber daintily walking down a path by the Pavilion. He was........

© The Spectator