When this tiny tavern fills up with suits at lunchtime, shoehorn yourself in at its island bar for a pint of Fuller’s Chiswick, ESB, London Pride or Gale’s Seafarers Ale, taking care lest a pinstripe’s straying Champagne cork (from a bottle at well under the going West End rate) hits you head-on. Beyond the foliage-festooned frontage lies a fine sepia-tinted interior, all Fanny by Gaslight come evening, with brilliant-cut frosted mirrored glass, elaborate carved mahogany and an impossibly intimate snug. This little gem recalls the days of Downton Abbey, when hostelries such as this were designed to give those ‘downstairs’ a taste of ‘upstairs’ living. Food is suitably ersatz Mrs Bridges: bangers, fish & chips, sarnies and pies.