Vineyard tours, art classes and ‘knit and natter’ groups - meet the real-life Thursday Murder Clubbers

It’s in the weekly art class at St George’s Park, a retirement community for over-60s in Burgess Hill, West Sussex, that I rub shoulders with a retired BBC comedy producer and a former RAF officer. In the cafe later, over an oat latte, I talk to a woman who used to work in theatre. She tells me that many of the residents have illustrious and influential careers behind them but I note that, in an age of self-promotion, this crowd is humble. In fact, the whole retirement village feels a bit… well, Thursday Murder Club-y. Which isn’t surprising, as the novels by Richard Osman were based on this very place.

As the nation awaits the release of the film starring Dame Helen Mirren as Elizabeth Best and Pierce Brosnan as Ron Ritchie, I’m spending three days at St George’s Park to experience the community from the inside.

‘It’s a happy place – people come here because they want to,’ says Brenda Osman, a long-term resident and mother of Richard, author of The Thursday Murder Club and also Mat, who plays bass with the band Suede. We’re sitting outside Brenda’s apartment, and residents wave as they pass. She’s clearly proud of her sons. In her front room hangs a framed award for Suede’s iconic Dog Man Star album. ‘They just played to thousands of people in Chile,’ she says, nonchalantly. The photographer and I – both massive Suede fans – try not to swoon.

'Richard loves it here,’ she continues. I panicked when he first told me he’d written the book; I skimmed it quickly to make sure there was nothing incriminating!’ Brenda is part of a book club here, as well as a ‘Knit and Natter’ group. ‘I don’t think you’ll find anyone with negative things to say about this place,’ she adds. It turns out she’s right.

On the first day of my stay, I attend a ‘Move and Groove’ class. Fleetwood Mac blasts through the speakers and I’m sweating like mad. The man next to me, Mick, in a bright purple and blue shirt, knows the steps, and I take furtive side glances in a bid to keep up. ‘Bet you didn’t think you’d be doing this in a retirement village!’ he shouts above the music. This turns into a bit of a catchphrase during my stay, since nothing is quite how I’d expected.

Set in more than 250 acres of countryside, St George’s is one of the UK’s 200-odd IRCs – integrated retirement communities – many of which have bars and bistros as well as art and fitness classes. At St George’s, there’s also a working farm, swimming pool and gym, allotments, an apple orchard, a bowling green, a birdwatching station… the list goes on. My granddaughter described it as 'Center Parcs for old people!’ resident Pat tells me over dinner. Her skin glows with health and her eyes sparkle. ‘There’s a lot of joy and laughter here,’ says Pam, the art class leader, who’s 93 but looks 60.

Also in the class is Michael, editor of monthly newsletter the Village Voice who, in his previous life, worked for the United Nations. Seeing his excellent sketches makes me regret sharing my own effort – a childlike drawing of my cat. ‘It’s not too bad, love!’ my fellow art club attendees reassure me kindly. After art class, I go to my room. How do people keep up with it all? Mick’s comment about this place being a surprise rings in my ears as I doze.I ’m the only one napping, it seems.

The UK retirement housing market is growing, driven by an ageing population and evolving tastes for more community-orientated living spaces. Research by Aston and Lancaster Universities commissioned by not-for- profit retirement housing developer the ExtraCare Charitable Trust found that people who live in retirement villages cost the NHS 38% less per annum (compared with their costs when they first moved in). Their exercise levels increased by 75%, anxiety symptoms decreased by 23% and memory improved by 24%. 85.5% of residents never or hardly ever felt lonely. These benefits are compelling.

'The idea that retirement is about doing nothing doesn’t exist any more,’ St George’s Park’s CEO, Philip Smith, tells me. ‘Activities here are created by residents, although people don’t have to do them. Some do loads and others choose to do less. There’s no pressure.’

I say to Philip that many of the residents have obviously lived fascinating lives before coming here. He agrees, informing me that one resident flew more than 49 sorties in the Second World War. One refreshing thing about life here is that, in a world where people show off a lot (or maybe that’s just me?), residents aren’t remotely interested in how many followers someone has, and they’re not addicted to their phones. I vow to reevaluate my priorities the minute I get home.

Another difference is that people are eager to tell you their age. ‘Our oldest resident is 102 years old,’ Philip says going on to point out that romance also blossoms on occasion. ‘We had a couple who met and got married in the village.’

And staff tend to stick around: ‘The longest has worked here for 47 years,’ says Philip, who has himself been at St George’s for more than 19 years. ‘The place gets hold of you in a good way.’

I also meet Sharon, membership secretary of the residents’ association. As we sit in her allotment, enjoying the sun shining through the apple trees, she tells a story that I suspect is quite common. ‘I had a big house but never really talked to my neighbours because they were out at work,’ she says. Now, by contrast, one of Sharon’s roles is to help induct newbies into village life. She invites them for coffee so they feel encouraged to make new friends and try out new things. She also has her ginger cat, Jazz, to attend to. A specially designed Astroturf-covered ramp ensures he doesn’t get mud on his paws when climbing through the cat flap, proving that even the pets get five-star treatment here!

In the restaurant that evening, Richard Wright, chair of the residents’ committee, tells me about some of the activities lined up over the coming months. These include a river cruise, a vineyard tour, a midsummer garden party and a trip to see Top Hat. I realise that it’s 9.30pm and wonder what time this group will go to bed. They’re still chatting and brimming with energy, while I’m well and truly flagging.

What I’ve learned is that St George’s Park is definitely not about ‘retirement’ – not in the conventional sense, in any case. What I can see is growth. And joy. And it’s pretty damn inspiring.

The Thursday Murder Club is streaming on Netflix from 28 August