For the best part of a decade, Sarah and Mick Dore have welcomed people who find themselves alone at Christmas into their pub for a proper, homemade Christmas lunch.
In its first year, about two-dozen people arrived, but year-on-year, its numbers have grown to the size of a small primary school. In the coming days, thanks to donations from their suppliers and “generous, generous people”, they are preparing to host more than 250 people in the pub free of charge.
“For some people, Christmas is the worst day [and] they can’t wait for it to be over,” Mick says. “A guy told us one year this was his first Christmas dinner with someone else in 17 years. Loneliness is a scourge isn’t it? It kills people.
“I think this has become a lifeline for a lot of people,” he adds. “We always made a thing of saying, ‘Look, you don’t have to be on your own. You can come down and have a beer on us.’”
When they open their doors at midday on Christmas Day, a steady stream of pensioners, widows and widowers, parents who share custody of their children, students and anybody else who wants a meal and some company are greeted with a hug, drink, and seated for a three-course meal.
“We had one woman who was broken up with on Christmas Eve, so she had nowhere else to go. She was brave and came in teary-eyed and by the end of dinner, she was smiling,” Mick says.
While their visitors tend to be local, people have trekked across London for a meal at the Alexandra pub in Wimbledon before. One year, they had a guest who had walked more than three hours from London Bridge.
“There is a real sense of camaraderie,” Sarah says, explaining that people don’t just appreciate the meal and company, but the realisation that they are not the only one in their situation.
“We’ve got people who have come for dinner for a couple of years, and then they volunteer the following year. It’s like a spider’s web,” Mick says. “Connectivity,” Sarah chimes in.
And people don’t just leave with full bellies. “Loads and loads of long-term friendships and relationships are formed here too. People come here and they meet someone, and then they get in touch six months later to say, ‘I’m still friends with them now, you know’. It’s amazing,” Mick adds.
The lunch is donated, prepped, cooked, served and cleaned up by volunteers, the couple explain. “We had one lovely lady bring us a bag of potatoes. I said: ‘Thank God you brought these in because we had a potato shortage,’ and 15 minutes later, she came in with another bag.”
“That’s what Christmas is all about,” Sarah says. “It’s not commercial, or about the present you get or whether you didn’t like this or that. It is about people.”
“It’s absolutely lovely when the fire is crackling, it’s deadly quiet outside and you hear chatter and laughter around the room. That is Christmas,” Sarah says.
Asked what will happen to the tradition when the couple retire and someone else takes over, Mick said it will never stop. “We’ll have to carry on, people carry it on, I hope. If they don’t, I’ll come back out of retirement specially to do it.”
“I remember going to my nan’s house for Christmas. We’d have all the family round and we’d have some dinner. And I’m sitting on a camping chair and you’ve got someone there sitting on a barstool and that’s what it’s like right here … it’s just a bit of chaos and a bit of a shambles, but it kind of works, you know?”
The lunch is available to anyone alone at Christmas and is served from midday to 3pm. Vegetarian and vegan options are also served.
