IT was on the 25th anniversary of the Man versus Horse race in the small Welsh town of Llanwrtyd Wells that we bumped in 2004 into Cynthia Payne, the woman who, when learning the game, really did put a “Huge chest for sale” postcard in the window of the local paper shop.

She’d seemed pretty bored, sitting back and thinking of England perhaps, until the conversation turned to George Reynolds.

Madam Cyn became much more animated. It reminded her of the time that she’d asked George if he were looking for business – and of the unexpected reply.

She’d met the worktops millionaire and his then wife Susan, on Esther Rantzen’s television programme, at the time 15 years ago when George was also chairman of Darlington FC and lived lavishly in Witton-le-Wear.

Payne, who died last week at the age of 82, had even spent a “brilliant” Christmas at Witton Hall and watched Darlington beat Lincoln City 3-0 at Feethams – “whipped them into shape”, the Echo incorrigibly observed.

So the suggestion of business was perhaps to be expected – but strictly, strictly, in the non-euphemistic sense.

The strumpet of Streatham, the woman with more luncheon vouchers than a Civil Service canteen, had hoped to open Madam Cyn’s Show Bar in the West End and wanted George to invest.

“I’ll make it like a bordello,” she’d enthused. “Lots of memorabilia of what happened, waitresses dressed as French maids and two old fashioned policemen in Dixon of Dock Green uniforms.”

The menu would have included spotted dick – she was very keen on the notion of spotted dick – and any amount of tarts.

George made his excuses, as they say, but – though not wanting to be a sleeping partner – had still made a big impression. “I always thought he was a bit on the daft side but he’s a very careful businessman,” she said as man chased horse.

“He put all that money into Darlington Football Club because he wanted to feel loved. I sussed that out the first time I met him. We all need love in our lives. It’s terrible the way they treated him at Darlington.”

I still have their business cards. George’s, gold coloured, supposes him “Gentleman, entrepreneur, adventurer, maker of money and utter genius.”

The woman who once described herself as a glorified social worker listed after dinner speaking, sex law campaigning and lecturing at the Sex Research Centre at the University of California among her interests.

On the back of the card she wrote: “To Mike. Thank you for your past custom.”

Cheeky madam.

NO Payne no gain, Madam Cyn had also made several other North-East visits, the Echo on one occasion describing her as a brother keeper. Ill reputedly, she’d been something quite similar.

Twenty years ago the going rate was £600, her speech succinctly summed. “In my 30s I was doing it, in my 40s I was organising it and in my 50s I just talk about it.”

She’d appeared at a ladies’ evening at the Rolling Mills club in Darlington, spoken at Sunderland dogs – greyhounds – and at a do organised by the Nissan netball club, preceded by a short tour of the factory.

“A quickie,” mischievously observed Ian Reeve in the Northern Echo.

She’d particularly enjoyed Nissan. “It was quite exciting to be surrounded by so many young, virile men. It reminded me of the queue on my stairs.”

THE two halves of today’s offering are improbably linked by the multi-faceted Gadfly column of May 9, 1990.

One snippet noted that the Sunderland Echo had been obliged to apologise for the suggestion that Madam Tussaud’s had a model of Christine Keeler, Payne’s co-worker in the oldest profession. “They conceded,” added Gadfly, “that there wasn’t a graven image of Ms Cynthia Payne, either.”

The final paragraph noted that Sedgefield Borough Council had won a “well merited” Durham County Council environmental award for its work on Ferryhill town centre.

“Assuming that they get a few bob as well,” the column concluded, “might they not send a bit of it on Shildon town centre?”

We’re back on familiar territory.

THOUGH technologically truncated, the column two weeks ago noted that, amid an eerie and eviscerated town centre, Shildon had more hot food takeaways per head than anywhere else in County Durham.

The response has been tremendous, perhaps summed by an email from Marsha Lishman in Bishop Auckland. “We need a miracle to bring your town centre back to life.”

Ray Price in Chester-le-Street supposed that other towns – Bishop, Newton Aycliffe, Spennymoor – were equally as ghostly. Darlington, too.

“Remember the ‘Town on the move’ initiative? Now it’s a parking nightmare due to over-enthusiastic wardens and poor road design improvements.”

Shildon has approximately 20 takeaways for a population of 10,000, mostly in the main street. It’s by no means alone in being overtaken by an avalanche of fast food.

And now, just when the dear old place might be assumed to have reached polysaturation point, someone wants to another.

THE Durham County Plan, published in September 2012, states that “reducing levels of obesity” is one of the council’s key objectives.

Within commercial centre boundaries, it adds, the number of takeaways should be no more than one retail unit in 20. “An over-concentration of fast food takeaways can have a detrimental effect on vitality and viability.”

Shildon had 8.2 per cent – and that was three years ago. Consett was the next most bloated.

In order to promote healthy lifestyles among young people, says the plan, takeaways within 400m of schools or colleges “will not be permitted”.

Shildon’s latest application is for Jubilee Road, part of a post-war housing estate away from the town centre, but next to a community centre where activities for children and young people take place several times a week. Two schools are within half a mile.

Mrs Joanne Harwood, who lives opposite the proposed site, draws it to the column’s attention. Her formal objection, one of a considerable number, talks of obesity and Type 2 diabetes spiralling out of control, of property devaluation, noise pollution, loss of privacy, traffic disturbance, litter, cooking odours, vermin and “negative visual impact” on the green area roundabout.

“Having a fast food takeaway next door,” adds Mrs Harwood, “would contradict everything the community centre stands for.”

County Council cabinet member Brian Stephens, who lives nearby, shares her views. “If this is granted planning permission in these circumstances, what impression will it send out?” he asks in a letter to the planning department.

“This is an undesirable precedent that could have repercussions throughout the county. Hot food takeaways should be located where they can do least harm – in the town centre.”

There’s a possibility, presumably, that fast food joints could become demonised – but if it became a choice of living next door to a knocking shop or a kebab shop, Madam Cyn may well have had the answer.