A Change of Scenery.

Both Cyn and Cilla had nose jobs, so when I decided to go ahead I didn’t have to do any homework as they obviously had the best.   Percy Jayes, taught by the surgeon that looked after all the disfigured soldiers on their return from World War 2.   I took a few days off work and Richy and Maureen gave me some money towards it.   On my return to Roundhill, I was sporting a plaster on my nose, Maureen called us all to the staircase to see Jay with a bit of white paper stuck to his nose and when asked why, he replied, I look like BaBa.  

 
Mike and I decided to marry in '73, we booked the venue, a registry office on the Edgeware Road opposite Woolworths.   Maureen and Richy were taking the kids to France but they gave us £500 towards the party, their Mercedes stretch limo and the venue, a mews house in Mayfair.   Mike bought a suit and I a Jean Veron dress, plus all the booze, a very cheap wedding.   We invited everyone from Apple, our friend Ian Sellers took the photos.   Best party ever, Georgie Pekcham did his party piece, but the cabaret was Tony King and Cormac Clarke (of films).   Neil popped in for half an hour and was still there at 6am, we drove back to our new flat in Barnet only to return next day to clean it all up.   I went back to work on the Monday, everyone loved the do but no one knew what it had been in aid of. 

Richy and Maureen had been talking about Tittenhurst Park John’s house in Sunninghill, they asked if we would like a cottage on the estate, so within four months we had rented our flat and moved to the country.   I called the vet to buy cat carriers, 11 arrived.  Managed to get them all in to Maureen’s mini with me driving, the cats were howling until one clawed her way through the cardboard and proceed to cling on to my back for dear life, Maureen was trying to get her off when another managed to escape and landed on the top of my head, if only we had a camera.   By the end of the drive, all eleven had managed to get out and Maureen and I looked like the walking dead, covered in blood and scratches.   After quarantine  we let them outside and most turned feral, even Pinky the Siamese, we would often see her while out walking round the grounds.  
 
That first weekend was a nightmare, it was pouring with rain, August Bank holiday,  I decided to get a meal at the Little Chef up the road only to find it closed.   Mike was in the studio working with George on his album Living In The Material World, at this point I wasn’t very enamoured  of country life, so in floods of tears. I went over to the house only to discover Maureen, Stella and Flo (Maureen’s Mum) were also crying,   Ringo walked in, saw the state of us and decided the only solution was to get the booze out of the pantry and have a party, Mike joined us and a good night was had by all.    

We decided we couldn’t keep going up to Tramp so we had to find a local hostelry.   For a while we used the Thatched Tavern, but after celebrating Mike’s birthday one hectic night with loads of friends and very expensive rounds we got shouted at for leaving full glasses under the benches.   They must have made a fortune that night and we even ordered a bottle of brandy to take away.   So we moved on to our spiritual home, The Nags Head in Old Sunningdale, and so the fun began.