Cocktail girl

Why?

Because I ended up there recently, was deeply impressed by what I found and decided you lot needed to be enlightened, super-quick. The glamour! The celebrity! The excellent V&T! And I wasn't even in London

Er ... how?

The Cocktail Girl has occasion to leave our great and gracious capital every now and again, you know - and not just to go to New York. Or LA. Or St Barths.

Really?

Yes, really! Admittedly, I get a bit nervous outside the M1, but needs must, and once in a while I am required to venture forth. Venture north, even. So. I'd heard talk of Nino's for some months. 'The Ivy of the north', they said. There was mention of high Waggery: resident Wags who fancy a low-key, pap-lite night out will eschew the glitz of Manchester and gravitate towards this mid-sized Italian restaurant, which has been deemed Wag-worthy by the board of Supreme Wags. Question is - is it Cocktail-Girl Worthy?

Well, apparently it is. You already told us that.

And you kindly stop spoiling the jeopardy element of this column! So. I pitched up there unannounced one Friday night at prime time (eightish), accompanied by two Up Northerners, who hadn't booked, because Nino's doesn't take reservations for parties smaller than four. Well, loves, let me tell you: the joint was rammed. The Up Northerners expressed nervousness about securing a table, but I told them not to worry. I am, after all, me, which is generally enough to get me a squeeze on any door.

Boring.

But it wasn't necessary to invoke the power of the CG's rep, because Nino's smiley lady maître d' said she'd have a table for us in 15, and directed us through to the bar to wait. Which is where things got really interesting.

In what way interesting?

In a celebrity way of course! My favourite way.

No kidding.

No sooner had I ordered up my V&T (which, as I say, was extremely well-constructed: delivered in nice glassware, with the right amount of ice, and the optimum tonic-to-hard-liquor ratio - plus I didn't have to specify that I wanted bottled tonic, as opposed to ghastly tap stuff); when Lip off of Channel 4's Shameless entered the premises, along with his super-glam lady. He ordered a bottle of Pinot Noir with no small degree of panache, and then was led to his table (a discreet number toward the back of the central segment of the restaurant). Cor! I thought - there's nothing like the proximity of fame to make the Cocktail Girl's heart beat faster. And then guess who rocked up?

Er, the Queen?

As good as! Only Agyness bloody Deyn, star of the international catwalk and Burberry ads, second hottest model in the entire world after Kate Moss! In she stalks, all Hoxton hipster clothes and elfin blonde crop, accompanied by a party of about seven, some of whom seemed as east London as she did, some of whom were much more Rawtenstall in aesthetic. I began to hyperventilate, and concoct convoluted reasons to go and stand in La Deyn's willowy proximity.

And that's a good thing?

Hell, yes. The Up Northerners, oddly, were entirely unmoved by the presence of a supermodel. 'Oh, she comes from round here,' they said. Then our table was ready, and that was that. Well, apart from me contriving to go to the loo at the same time as Deyn.

Is Nino's really the Ivy of the north, then?

Reckon so. I had some excellent lamb incidentally. But I won't tell you about that. I am not the Lamb Girl, am I now?

· The bar at Nino's, 245 Bacup Road, Rawtenstall, Lancs, 01706 215868