HARDLY credible, I know, but I’d forgotten the Moll’s birthday.

It had been a busy couple of weeks on the mean streets and I took my eye off the ball.

Blondie was wearing that expression that says: ‘I’m SO going to look surprised when he tells me where we’re going’ and it was time to hit the panic button or face the consequences.

As Toots put the finishing touches to her peroxide locks, I had a star-studded flash of inspiration.

My dame was going to be a movie legend for the night, at the John Fairweather in Cambuslang – for those of long memory, once a cinema on Main Street.

It’s now re-invented as a pub and restaurant, and I figured I could save the day by giving Blondie the Marilyn Monroe red carpet vibe.

We pulled up outside and sure enough, it still looked like a movie house – but no fleapit. that was for sure.

“What’s this, Tec?” demanded my beloved. “Are we going to the flicks? I’m hungry.”

I permitted myself a Bogart-like wry smile and opened the doors, muttering a prayer as she sashayed through.

They weren’t kidding. No attempt to disguise the fact this was once an old-school cinema. In fact, the whole dress circle was still there, populated by dummies of Charlie Chaplin, Marilyn and many more. But the rest of the place was now a restaurant with a welcoming feel – a theatrical triumph.

No usherette to help us find our seats but we followed the twinkly lights on the carpet and were at a roomy table in no time.

We decided on a sharing platter to start, along with a glass of red wine for the birthday girl and a Coke for her chauffeur.

It arrived in double quick time and was fabulous – Southern fried chicken strips, barbecued wings, onion rings, king prawns and chips with salad were just the ticket. The selection of dips, barbecue, piri-piri and (I think) garlic were so tasty we asked to keep some of them back for the next course.

For mains, I’d gone for the Philly steak sandwich with chips and was pleasantly surprised that for once it was mostly tasty steak, with just a light cheesy topping and some sweet stewed onions.

For perfection, the baguette could have been a little crisper, but the steak needed to be the star and it was sure ready for its close-up.

My pin-up ordered the salmon fillet, which came with a baked potato and a salad that looked allotment-fresh.

The fish was moist and delicious and the jacket spud was a great foil for lashings of butter.

Toots said the salad was every bit as good as it looked.

Well, it was time to confess to the Moll that there was no surprise chorus of Happy Birthday to You from a load of waiters.

But I told her she could have her heart’s desire from the decadent-looking dessert menu.

That gal never fails to surprise me.

“You know what, Tec?” she said. “Those movie stars didn’t get to look like that by guzzling chocolate fudge cake.

“Maybe I’ll just sign a few autographs on the way back to the car.”

What a star.