King of romance who's heart remains in great glen.

(From Leicester Mercury)

We meet at his home in Great Glen. I'd expected both him and the house to be flamboyant. Neither are. Tall and dark and still a looker at 72, he has charm, a lazy smile and a voice which is more LA than Leicester. It's a twang rather than a full-blown accent though, and an occasional "Pardon me?" when he hasn't heard a question indicates that he spends more time in his Bel Air home than he does here.

He's lost weight too - 33 pounds to be exact. "This time last year, I'd become plump," he explains. "But I went on an American diet, lost two and a half stone, and reduced my waistline from 43 to 34 inches." Not that dieting is new for him. He says he's been dieting all his life. Recently though, he has learned to cook. "I do the food shopping, and I look at all the labels too. I've learned how to reduce the fat content of meals, and I'm actually enjoying the cooking part. And I barbecue a mean steak! "Occasionally I forget the diet and have a splurge. I love Indian, Chinese, Japanese and Thai food. When we're here in Great Glen, I have a favourite curry restaurant in Oadby and I eat in the local pubs too." On a wet winter's afternoon when the East Midlands are particularly sodden and unkind, Enge still says he'd rather be at Glen House than anywhere else - the Victorian pile he bought in 1978 sits in 25 acres of grounds and includes a tennis court, swimming pool, golf bunker and putting area. There is also an old Leicester street lamp, a telephone kiosk and a pillar box, plus Engelbert Lane on a signpost, not forgetting the pale blue Rolls in the garage, with its EH number plate - his other car has AGD (think about it), and at one time there were racehorses in the stables too.

His wife Pat is largely responsible for the garden which has different areas of interest, including an oriental garden. "She worked harder on it than any of the gardeners did", he tells me proudly.

Then of course there is his famous pub, The Red Fox, a replica of the best sort of olde world English inn, snug and welcoming, with leather seating, horse brasses, hunting prints on the walls and real beer pumps - and a clocking in machine "to remind me that this is what I used to do every morning," he says, pulling down the handle with a reminiscent grin.

For the singer who has sold more than 130 million records world wide and is still, at 72 wowing audiences all over the globe, started his working life aged 15 as an apprentice engineer in a Leicester factory. "It was what my father wanted me to do. I was at school in Highfields, where we lived, but educationally the school did better by my nine brothers and sisters than it did by me." His musical education began at 11 when he started to learn the saxophone. "I did a paper round to earn the money to pay for lessons - four shillings a week." He gave up the sax aged 17 - "when I realised my voice made a better sound than it did!" He's never had a singing lesson in his life, but Enge reckons he owes his mother for his voice. "She was a violinist and a singer: she could make the chandeliers rattle." He began thinking about a musical career after he wandered into a Bond Street working men's club. "They happened to be auditioning for club acts, which I didn't realise. But I heard other people singing and asked if I could have a go. I did, and people came and asked who my agent was - I had no idea what they were talking about!" "But I then began to think about singing professionally - even though my dad kept trying to discourage me and telling me I should get myself a proper job. I then spent two years in the army, where I did quite a bit of entertaining, but back in Leicester again it was factory work during the week, and doing the clubs at weekends.

"I also started attending auditions in London, and got the "don't call us, we'll call you" treatment. You have to learn to take rejection, and believe me, I took a lot, and was often heartbroken." Back then he'd changed his name from Arnold Dorsey to Gerry Dorsey. He was lucky enough to meet a London agent who looked after him and got him on to Song ...