previous visit, and her friend Kath. I commented on them to Frank. ‘I’m sure they’re lesbians,’ he assured me. ‘They never dance with blokes – only each other.’
Thankfully, Frank’s instincts were as off-target as his sexual politics (but give him a break, it was the sixties). Maureen and Kath came over to the bar next to me to buy a drink, and Kath greeted me: ‘Haven’t seen you for ages.’
‘No, I’ve been working,’ I said. ‘Let me buy you a drink.’ I was chatting away to Kath, but it was Maureen that I was really interested in. She quickly joined in the conversation and was just as outgoing as Kath: beautiful, vivacious and with a winning line in funny banter. They were quite the double act.
We began to hang out and slowly but surely Maureen and I began a proper old-fashioned courtship. At first I was still very focused on my career, or lack of it, but Maureen was fantastic fun and great company. She was also very switched on and with it, which I liked, and ahead of all the latest trends from working in boutiques on the King’s Road and in Carnaby Street.
She was the daughter of an East End car dealer, Alfie, and I got on well with him, her Irish mother, Rita, and her brother Ronnie. I was puzzled by an early trip to a Wimpy Bar where Maureen refused to eat anything and just sipped at a frothy coffee. She later confessed she was too embarrassed to eat in front of me in case she got messy. We were having a great time, and after a few weeks I realised this was something special.
Despite this, our relationship was a bit of a slow-burner at first, partly because we were both still living with our parents. They had always been great but I felt ready to move out, and began renting a bedsit in Earl’s Court. I was a child of my time: the décor was all Che Guevara and Jimi Hendrix posters and joss sticks. Well, it made sense back then.
With my music career enduring another hiatus, Derek wanted to skew things back towards the acting side and decided that I needed an agent. We started at the very top when Derek secured a meeting with Leslie Grade, who together with his brothers Lew Grade and Bernard Delfont seemed to run British showbiz at the time.
The Grades’ empire covered variety, film and theatre, and in between puffs on his giant cigar, the elderly, larger-than-life Leslie magnanimously agreed to represent me for 10 per cent of my earnings. He dispatched me to audition to be an understudy for an American musical called
Your Own Thing
that was due to open at the Comedy Theatre. I got the job, but the show closed before I got a chance to appear.
I auditioned for hippy musical
Hair
at the Shaftesbury Theatre and the producers wanted to use me but Leslie had other ideas. ‘Taking your clothes off and running around in the nude? You don’t want to do that!’ he advised me. In truth, I also had reservations about that aspect, so that was that.
Derek also secured me a few very minor film roles. This was a new experience and I enjoyed the filming but I think my fleeting appearances were too short even to count as cameos. I wore a brown suit and had a couple of lines in a film called
Smashing Time
. It was fun, but to this day I haven’t seen the film.
In a movie called
Assault
, I played a young man who goes into a chemist’s shop that is promptly blown up. The star was Frank Finlay, who took an avuncular interest in me and brought me a cup of tea in the canteen. Our paths were to cross again years later.
I spent a long boring day hanging around a wedding in a suit as an extra on
All Coppers Are
, whose title was changed to
In the Devil’s Garden
for America. I even dipped my toe into the saucy, uniquely British milieu of the
Carry On
films, although sadly my contribution was never to see the light of day.
Set in the court of Henry VIII,
Carry On Henry
was a typical lewd romp starring the
Carry On
A-team of Sid James, Kenneth Williams, Barbara Windsor, Charles Hawtrey, Joan Sims and
Thankfully, Frank’s instincts were as off-target as his sexual politics (but give him a break, it was the sixties). Maureen and Kath came over to the bar next to me to buy a drink, and Kath greeted me: ‘Haven’t seen you for ages.’
‘No, I’ve been working,’ I said. ‘Let me buy you a drink.’ I was chatting away to Kath, but it was Maureen that I was really interested in. She quickly joined in the conversation and was just as outgoing as Kath: beautiful, vivacious and with a winning line in funny banter. They were quite the double act.
We began to hang out and slowly but surely Maureen and I began a proper old-fashioned courtship. At first I was still very focused on my career, or lack of it, but Maureen was fantastic fun and great company. She was also very switched on and with it, which I liked, and ahead of all the latest trends from working in boutiques on the King’s Road and in Carnaby Street.
She was the daughter of an East End car dealer, Alfie, and I got on well with him, her Irish mother, Rita, and her brother Ronnie. I was puzzled by an early trip to a Wimpy Bar where Maureen refused to eat anything and just sipped at a frothy coffee. She later confessed she was too embarrassed to eat in front of me in case she got messy. We were having a great time, and after a few weeks I realised this was something special.
Despite this, our relationship was a bit of a slow-burner at first, partly because we were both still living with our parents. They had always been great but I felt ready to move out, and began renting a bedsit in Earl’s Court. I was a child of my time: the décor was all Che Guevara and Jimi Hendrix posters and joss sticks. Well, it made sense back then.
With my music career enduring another hiatus, Derek wanted to skew things back towards the acting side and decided that I needed an agent. We started at the very top when Derek secured a meeting with Leslie Grade, who together with his brothers Lew Grade and Bernard Delfont seemed to run British showbiz at the time.
The Grades’ empire covered variety, film and theatre, and in between puffs on his giant cigar, the elderly, larger-than-life Leslie magnanimously agreed to represent me for 10 per cent of my earnings. He dispatched me to audition to be an understudy for an American musical called
Your Own Thing
that was due to open at the Comedy Theatre. I got the job, but the show closed before I got a chance to appear.
I auditioned for hippy musical
Hair
at the Shaftesbury Theatre and the producers wanted to use me but Leslie had other ideas. ‘Taking your clothes off and running around in the nude? You don’t want to do that!’ he advised me. In truth, I also had reservations about that aspect, so that was that.
Derek also secured me a few very minor film roles. This was a new experience and I enjoyed the filming but I think my fleeting appearances were too short even to count as cameos. I wore a brown suit and had a couple of lines in a film called
Smashing Time
. It was fun, but to this day I haven’t seen the film.
In a movie called
Assault
, I played a young man who goes into a chemist’s shop that is promptly blown up. The star was Frank Finlay, who took an avuncular interest in me and brought me a cup of tea in the canteen. Our paths were to cross again years later.
I spent a long boring day hanging around a wedding in a suit as an extra on
All Coppers Are
, whose title was changed to
In the Devil’s Garden
for America. I even dipped my toe into the saucy, uniquely British milieu of the
Carry On
films, although sadly my contribution was never to see the light of day.
Set in the court of Henry VIII,
Carry On Henry
was a typical lewd romp starring the
Carry On
A-team of Sid James, Kenneth Williams, Barbara Windsor, Charles Hawtrey, Joan Sims and
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