I had a drink tonight in Shepherd Market (named after Edward Shepherd, its architect and the site of the old May Fair) and felt a sudden deep wave of nostalgia for its old, scuzzy character in the days when I worked – rather briefly – as a delivery boy for Heywood Hill.   I have resisted nostalgia for old Soho, preferring its new found smartness to its old seediness, but in Shepherd Market I found myself missing the old ambiguity between aristocracy and tarts:-