Latest news with #GrouchoClub
BBC News
14-07-2025
- Politics
- BBC News
Suffolk MP facing sex assault charges given trial date
An MP accused of sexually assaulting two women at a private members' club in London must wait nearly a year before going on Suffolk and North Ipswich MP Patrick Spencer, 37, has been accused of assaults on two women at The Groucho Club in Soho on the same day in August 2023 - before he was entered not guilty pleas during a pre-trial hearing at Southwark Crown Court on Tony Baumgartner said a trial, expected to last about a week, would start on 13 July 2026. Mr Spencer, from Suffolk, was released on unconditional bail. Charges were brought against Mr Spencer in Conservative Party has removed the whip from him and he now sits as an independent MP. A prosecution lawyer had outlined some detail about the allegations against Mr Spencer at an earlier magistrates' court Polly Dyer said the alleged offences happened on 12 August 2023 at The Groucho court heard a complaint was made to the club and the matter was reported to Spencer was interviewed by officers earlier this year. Follow Suffolk news on BBC Sounds, Facebook, Instagram and X.
Yahoo
14-07-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Trial date set for suspended Tory MP accused of Groucho club sex assaults
A suspended Tory MP accused of sexually assaulting two women at London's Groucho club will face trial next year. Patrick Spencer, MP for Central Suffolk and North Ipswich, allegedly cupped the breasts of two women over their clothes at the Soho private members' club on an evening in August 2023. A complaint was made to the club and a report made to police, and Spencer, 37, was interviewed by officers earlier this year. Spencer, who denies two counts of sexual assault, appeared at Southwark Crown Court on Monday wearing a dark suit, blue tie and black-rimmed glasses. Prosecutor Polly Dyer told a previous hearing that the first woman 'felt Mr Spencer put his arms under her arms' before he 'cupped her breasts over the clothing', having interacted with him earlier in the evening while he 'seemed to be intoxicated'. Of the second woman, the prosecutor said 'he moved behind her and also cupped her breasts with his hands over clothing'. Ms Dyer added that neither woman consented to the alleged touching. Lawyers acting for the MP have previously said he 'categorically denies the charges' against him, adding: 'He has co-operated fully with the police investigation from the moment he became aware of it and he will defend the allegations robustly in court.' Spencer's trial date was set for July 13 2026. Judge Tony Baumgartner said his home address would continue to be withheld from the court while he considers the application. The politician, who lives in Suffolk, was suspended from the Conservative Party and had the whip withdrawn after the charges were brought. Spencer was first elected to Parliament last year with a majority of 4,290. He previously worked in finance for private equity firm IPGL, a company chaired by his father, former Conservative Party treasurer Lord Michael Spencer. He later took a job at the Centre for Social Justice think thank and then became a senior adviser at the Department for Education. He made his maiden speech in the Commons in July last year during a debate on the MPs' code of conduct relating to second jobs, during which he said the 'most important thing to the people across my constituency' was 'restoring a sense of moral probity and public spiritedness to our political system'.
The Independent
14-07-2025
- Politics
- The Independent
Trial date set for suspended Tory MP accused of Groucho club sex assaults
A suspended Tory MP accused of sexually assaulting two women at London's Groucho club will face trial next year. Patrick Spencer, MP for Central Suffolk and North Ipswich, allegedly cupped the breasts of two women over their clothes at the Soho private members' club on an evening in August 2023. A complaint was made to the club and a report made to police, and Spencer, 37, was interviewed by officers earlier this year. Spencer, who denies two counts of sexual assault, appeared at Southwark Crown Court on Monday wearing a dark suit, blue tie and black-rimmed glasses. Prosecutor Polly Dyer told a previous hearing that the first woman 'felt Mr Spencer put his arms under her arms' before he 'cupped her breasts over the clothing', having interacted with him earlier in the evening while he 'seemed to be intoxicated'. Of the second woman, the prosecutor said 'he moved behind her and also cupped her breasts with his hands over clothing'. Ms Dyer added that neither woman consented to the alleged touching. Lawyers acting for the MP have previously said he 'categorically denies the charges' against him, adding: 'He has co-operated fully with the police investigation from the moment he became aware of it and he will defend the allegations robustly in court.' Spencer's trial date was set for July 13 2026. Judge Tony Baumgartner said his home address would continue to be withheld from the court while he considers the application. The politician, who lives in Suffolk, was suspended from the Conservative Party and had the whip withdrawn after the charges were brought. Spencer was first elected to Parliament last year with a majority of 4,290. He previously worked in finance for private equity firm IPGL, a company chaired by his father, former Conservative Party treasurer Lord Michael Spencer. He later took a job at the Centre for Social Justice think thank and then became a senior adviser at the Department for Education. He made his maiden speech in the Commons in July last year during a debate on the MPs' code of conduct relating to second jobs, during which he said the 'most important thing to the people across my constituency' was 'restoring a sense of moral probity and public spiritedness to our political system'.
The Guardian
27-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
A moment that changed me: I had a wild London party life – until I met a man who lived on a houseboat
If you'd told me when I was in my early 30s that, by the end of that decade, I would be living in a houseboat, I would never have believed you. I was a devoted Londoner, born and bred, and very wedded to my city lifestyle. I'd got a 100% mortgage and bought a tiny flat with a balcony, where I would host parties – and defy gravity – every weekend. Romantically, I was jumping from one emotional disaster to another, falling for unsuitable people, closing my ears to those who dropped hints about biological clocks. I had my dream career in publishing and most weeknights could be found stumbling out of the Groucho Club and into a cab. In the early 00s, publishing was all about 'networking' and there was always someone keen to go for 'just one' – code for a late night of heavy drinking, often culminating in karaoke. I'd get out of bed at 9am the next day, get on the tube and be at my desk by 10, with my boss shaking his head knowingly at my 'breakfast meeting' alibi. Then I'd do it all again. I was a total ageing party girl cliche. My parents had given up on the idea of me settling down and, luckily, I had a younger sister who was getting married, which took the pressure off. I spent her wedding determined to be the last one on the dancefloor in my bright pink dress and feather boa, so that no one would guess I was as worried about my future as they all seemed to be. And then I met James. We'd actually crossed paths some years earlier, but our mutual friends began to nudge us towards each other around 2008, after we each went through a breakup. Something in me knew that I needed to tread carefully with him. James was super-smart and intuitive, didn't like arguments and stood up to me when I behaved carelessly. He challenged me in a way I hadn't encountered before. He also had a rootedness about him, seeming settled and happy on Taggs Island in Hampton, south-west London, where he lived. I'd heard some time before that James lived on an island houseboat, a place where you woke to the swans and the geese, and the rowers, with an eccentric and wonderful community, like a floating village. At that stage, I hadn't been interested in swans, or rowers, or community, but when he invited me to lunch at his home, I thought I'd better go and see what all the fuss was about, swallowing the expensive 40-minute cab ride to get there. That July day, everything sparkled on the river. We sat in the garden, surrounded by climbing roses, watching the boats going past, with friendly neighbours dropping in to say hello. We even swam in the river. By the end of the date, I didn't want to go home. Things became serious between us very quickly and we decided to try for a baby, but that didn't mean I wanted to give up my flat or my work-hard-play-hard lifestyle. Even though I could be in Waterloo in 40 minutes, Taggs Island felt like a long way from city life – and I was looking at an hour and a half's commute to work. When I became pregnant, I knew that living between our two homes was no longer feasible, but I found it hard to let go. I finally moved to the houseboat the summer before our son was born, after James convinced me that it would be an amazing place to bring up children: the freedom, the river, going to school by boat, a huge park on our doorstep. James was already a devoted islander but I found the change hard at first. I wasn't used to the lack of privacy, the island WhatsApp group that pinged all day long or the long commute as I got enormous and tired. And then, something magical happened. On one of the first days of my maternity leave, I was feeling lost and out of place, miles away from the 'real world', when I received an invitation from a lovely neighbour, who also had a baby, asking me for tea. We had a lot in common: she was also an older mum, a writer, and had previously led a Soho life. That tea on her balcony led to us spending most of our maternity leave exploring local child-friendly cafes together, and forging friendships with other mothers on the island. Some of them had grown up there themselves and had wanted to return with their own kids. It gave me a sense of the legacy and the unique appeal of this extraordinary place where I now live. After that, there was no stopping me: I leaned into island life, joining the local book club and even taking up kayaking. I began to discover what community means and how important it can be in supporting you when you feel like a fish out of water. I now have a floating office in a canal boat and enjoy working from there more than I ever did in the city – even if there are fewer opportunities for post-work drinks and late-night karaoke. River of Stars by Georgina Moore is published by HQ on 3 July (£16.99). To support the Guardian, order your copy at Delivery charges may apply.
The Guardian
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
A moment that changed me: I had a wild London party life – until I met a man who lived on a houseboat
If you'd told me when I was in my early 30s that, by the end of that decade, I would be living in a houseboat, I would never have believed you. I was a devoted Londoner, born and bred, and very wedded to my city lifestyle. I'd got a 100% mortgage and bought a tiny flat with a balcony, where I would host parties – and defy gravity – every weekend. Romantically, I was jumping from one emotional disaster to another, falling for unsuitable people, closing my ears to those who dropped hints about biological clocks. I had my dream career in publishing and most weeknights could be found stumbling out of the Groucho Club and into a cab. In the early 00s, publishing was all about 'networking' and there was always someone keen to go for 'just one' – code for a late night of heavy drinking, often culminating in karaoke. I'd get out of bed at 9am the next day, get on the tube and be at my desk by 10, with my boss shaking his head knowingly at my 'breakfast meeting' alibi. Then I'd do it all again. I was a total ageing party girl cliche. My parents had given up on the idea of me settling down and, luckily, I had a younger sister who was getting married, which took the pressure off. I spent her wedding determined to be the last one on the dancefloor in my bright pink dress and feather boa, so that no one would guess I was as worried about my future as they all seemed to be. And then I met James. We'd actually crossed paths some years earlier, but our mutual friends began to nudge us towards each other around 2008, after we each went through a breakup. Something in me knew that I needed to tread carefully with him. James was super-smart and intuitive, didn't like arguments and stood up to me when I behaved carelessly. He challenged me in a way I hadn't encountered before. He also had a rootedness about him, seeming settled and happy on Taggs Island in Hampton, south-west London, where he lived. I'd heard some time before that James lived on an island houseboat, a place where you woke to the swans and the geese, and the rowers, with an eccentric and wonderful community, like a floating village. At that stage, I hadn't been interested in swans, or rowers, or community, but when he invited me to lunch at his home, I thought I'd better go and see what all the fuss was about, swallowing the expensive 40-minute cab ride to get there. That July day, everything sparkled on the river. We sat in the garden, surrounded by climbing roses, watching the boats going past, with friendly neighbours dropping in to say hello. We even swam in the river. By the end of the date, I didn't want to go home. Things became serious between us very quickly and we decided to try for a baby, but that didn't mean I wanted to give up my flat or my work-hard-play-hard lifestyle. Even though I could be in Waterloo in 40 minutes, Taggs Island felt like a long way from city life – and I was looking at an hour and a half's commute to work. When I became pregnant, I knew that living between our two homes was no longer feasible, but I found it hard to let go. I finally moved to the houseboat the summer before our son was born, after James convinced me that it would be an amazing place to bring up children: the freedom, the river, going to school by boat, a huge park on our doorstep. James was already a devoted islander but I found the change hard at first. I wasn't used to the lack of privacy, the island WhatsApp group that pinged all day long or the long commute as I got enormous and tired. And then, something magical happened. On one of the first days of my maternity leave, I was feeling lost and out of place, miles away from the 'real world', when I received an invitation from a lovely neighbour, who also had a baby, asking me for tea. We had a lot in common: she was also an older mum, a writer, and had previously led a Soho life. That tea on her balcony led to us spending most of our maternity leave exploring local child-friendly cafes together, and forging friendships with other mothers on the island. Some of them had grown up there themselves and had wanted to return with their own kids. It gave me a sense of the legacy and the unique appeal of this extraordinary place where I now live. After that, there was no stopping me: I leaned into island life, joining the local book club and even taking up kayaking. I began to discover what community means and how important it can be in supporting you when you feel like a fish out of water. I now have a floating office in a canal boat and enjoy working from there more than I ever did in the city – even if there are fewer opportunities for post-work drinks and late-night karaoke. River of Stars by Georgina Moore is published by HQ on 3 July (£16.99). To support the Guardian, order your copy at Delivery charges may apply.
