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Tales from Portlaw
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- No Need to Look for Love
- 'The Love Quartet' >
-
The Priest's Calling Card
>
- Chapter One - The Irish Custom
- Chapter Two - Patrick Duffy's Family Background
- Chapter Three - Patrick Duffy Junior's Vocation to Priesthood
- Chapter Four - The first years of the priesthood
- Chapter Five - Father Patrick Duffy in Seattle
- Chapter Six - Father Patrick Duffy, Portlaw Priest
- Chapter Seven - Patrick Duffy Priest Power
- Chapter Eight - Patrick Duffy Groundless Gossip
- Chapter Nine - Monsignor Duffy of Portlaw
- Chapter Ten - The Portlaw Inheritance of Patrick Duffy
- Bigger and Better >
- The Oldest Woman in the World >
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Sean and Sarah
>
- Chapter 1 - 'Return of the Prodigal Son'
- Chapter 2 - 'The early years of sweet innocence in Portlaw'
- Chapter 3 - 'The Separation'
- Chapter 4 - 'Separation and Betrayal'
- Chapter 5 - 'Portlaw to Manchester'
- Chapter 6 - 'Salford Choices'
- Chapter 7 - 'Life inside Prison'
- Chapter 8 - 'The Aylesbury Pilgrimage'
- Chapter 9 - Sean's interest in stone masonary'
- Chapter 10 - 'Sean's and Tony's Partnership'
- Chapter 11 - 'Return of the Prodigal Son'
- The Alternative Christmas Party >
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The Life of Liam Lafferty
>
- Chapter One: ' Liam Lafferty is born'
- Chapter Two : 'The Baptism of Liam Lafferty'
- Chapter Three: 'The early years of Liam Lafferty'
- Chapter Four : Early Manhood
- Chapter Five : Ned's Secret Past
- Chapter Six : Courtship and Marriage
- Chapter Seven : Liam and Trish marry
- Chapter Eight : Farley meets Ned
- Chapter Nine : 'Ned comes clean to Farley'
- Chapter Ten : Tragedy hits the family
- Chapter Eleven : The future is brighter
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The life and times of Joe Walsh
>
- Chapter One : 'The marriage of Margaret Mawd and Thomas Walsh’
- Chapter Two 'The birth of Joe Walsh'
- Chapter Three 'Marriage breakup and betrayal'
- Chapter Four: ' The Walsh family breakup'
- Chapter Five : ' Liverpool Lodgings'
- Chapter Six: ' Settled times are established and tested'
- Chapter Seven : 'Haworth is heaven is a place on earth'
- Chapter Eight: 'Coming out'
- Chapter Nine: Portlaw revenge
- Chapter Ten: ' The murder trial of Paddy Groggy'
- Chapter Eleven: 'New beginnings'
-
The Woman Who Hated Christmas
>
- Chapter One: 'The Christmas Enigma'
- Chapter Two: ' The Breakup of Beth's Family''
- Chapter Three: From Teenager to Adulthood.'
- Chapter Four: 'The Mills of West Yorkshire.'
- Chapter Five: 'Harrison Garner Showdown.'
- Chapter Six : 'The Christmas Dance'
- Chapter Seven : 'The ballot for Shop Steward.'
- Chapter Eight: ' Leaving the Mill'
- Chapter Ten: ' Beth buries her Ghosts'
- Chapter Eleven: Beth and Dermot start off married life in Galway.
- Chapter Twelve: The Twin Tragedy of Christmas, 1992.'
- Chapter Thirteen: 'The Christmas star returns'
- Chapter Fourteen: ' Beth's future in Portlaw'
-
The Last Dance
>
- Chapter One - ‘Nancy Swales becomes the Widow Swales’
- Chapter Two ‘The secret night life of Widow Swales’
- Chapter Three ‘Meeting Richard again’
- Chapter Four ‘Clancy’s Ballroom: March 1961’
- Chapter Five ‘The All Ireland Dancing Rounds’
- Chapter Six ‘James Mountford’
- Chapter Seven ‘The All Ireland Ballroom Latin American Dance Final.’
- Chapter Eight ‘The Final Arrives’
- Chapter Nine: 'Beth in Manchester.'
- 'Two Sisters' >
- Fourteen Days >
-
‘The Postman Always Knocks Twice’
>
- Author's Foreword
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
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Celebrity Contacts
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Thoughts and Musings
- Bereavement >
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Bill's Personal Development
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- What I'd like to be remembered for
- Second Chances
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- 'Early life at my Grandparents'
- Family Holidays
- 'Mother /Child Bond'
- Childhood Pain
- The Death of Lady
- 'Soldiering On'
- 'Romantic Holidays'
- 'On the roof'
- Always wear clean shoes
- 'Family Tree'
- The importance of poise
- 'Growing up with grandparents'
- Love & Romance >
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'Shining Stars'

Stars shine, not because they’re bright, but because they light up the world around them. As a nation we are too often prone to believe the worse in people, even strangers, and particularly successful, famous and wealthy people who have reached the top of their professions.
“How did he/she climb the greasy pole of success so effortlessly?” we remark in that tone of marked suspicion. "They must have pushed someone out of the way or climbed over someone's body to get where they are now!" we believe.
“How did he/she climb the greasy pole of success so effortlessly?” we remark in that tone of marked suspicion. "They must have pushed someone out of the way or climbed over someone's body to get where they are now!" we believe.

“I bet he left a few dead bodies in his wake, climbing his way up that greasy pole?” we may say with the implication that in order to be successful one has to be a wolf in sheep's clothing
“I bet she’s not half as nice off-screen as she comes across on it!”
“You can’t possibly become a millionaire today while remaining honest in your dealings!”
“I bet she’s not half as nice off-screen as she comes across on it!”
“You can’t possibly become a millionaire today while remaining honest in your dealings!”

These and other similarly expressed sentiments are just a few of the more commonly held prejudices of ‘Joe Soap’ public, who in the main prefer to believe that most famous people are 'two faced.' I’ll confess that in the past, I was also tempted to share some of these views, but thank God, I now know differently.
In respect of those things that truly matter more in life such as happy home, healthy family, satisfying work etc; given the small difference of a million here and a few mansions there, I have found that famous people and big-named stars are really no different than you or I. Whatever their standard of living happens to be, they fear the prospect of not remaining in the public eye and working again. In many respects, they will constantly suffer the misfortune of always being on public parade and never being allowed to 'let their hair down' like any normal man or woman without it being reported on and photographed by prying press.
In respect of those things that truly matter more in life such as happy home, healthy family, satisfying work etc; given the small difference of a million here and a few mansions there, I have found that famous people and big-named stars are really no different than you or I. Whatever their standard of living happens to be, they fear the prospect of not remaining in the public eye and working again. In many respects, they will constantly suffer the misfortune of always being on public parade and never being allowed to 'let their hair down' like any normal man or woman without it being reported on and photographed by prying press.

Their celebrity, wealth and status do not grant them immunity to the everyday stress of life experienced by any parent or work-away-from-home partner. They still have to fill their fridge, find a suitable present for that awkward and impossible-to-please family member, and negotiate the road rage of that five-mile-tailback traffic jam to their next destination. Their irksome itch requires the very same scratch as yours or mine to relieve it, and their toilets and lavatories smell no more fragrant than ours after they have been put to use. Some of the more pressurised stars experience severe emotional turmoil and many have psychiatric and mental breakdown episodes, while a few even finish up dead via overdose or occasionally suicide!

And yet, allow ‘Joe Public’ into the presence of the famed and celebrated star and they often seem lost for words. Where previously, intelligence and confident speech existed, a dumbfound look of vacancy has effectively transformed the status of ‘admiring fan’ to one of ‘star -struck fool.’ Too often, when ‘Joe Public’ comes face-to face with their larger-than-life star guest they invariably resort to small talk.
I always feel it to be a great loss and diminution of character to see any person make any star bigger than they actually are at the expense of making themselves appear smaller in their presence.
I always feel it to be a great loss and diminution of character to see any person make any star bigger than they actually are at the expense of making themselves appear smaller in their presence.

I’ll never forget the summer morning when the star of stage and screen, Christopher Timothy, had come to a Batley school with me to read 'Tales of Bernard'. Whilst we hurriedly walked through the town, Christopher collided with a pregnant woman. The woman, who was in her eighth month of pregnancy, fell to the ground as a result of the collision. As we stared down we could hear her heavy breathing and see an angry face as she prepared to blast us both off the pavement with a few choice Batley sentiments. But before she could regain her breath enough to remind us that we were most certainly in the thick of Batley, Timothy instinctively grabbed her hand which partially softened her landing.
The quick reflex of Christopher had enabled him to grab hold of the falling woman’s arm and to cushion her bump with the hard-stone pavement. However, her shopping broke open and her fruit and veg was scattered all over the Batley high street. My instant thought I confess, was to prepare myself for the verbal onslaught that enraged Batley women are capable of giving any male with whom their views or person collide. I’d never previously encountered one from Batley who was eight months pregnant and given the woman's overall size and seeming disposition, I genuinely feared for Christopher’s continued good looks and manhood as a consequence, especially once she clenched her fist ready to strike her assailant.
The quick reflex of Christopher had enabled him to grab hold of the falling woman’s arm and to cushion her bump with the hard-stone pavement. However, her shopping broke open and her fruit and veg was scattered all over the Batley high street. My instant thought I confess, was to prepare myself for the verbal onslaught that enraged Batley women are capable of giving any male with whom their views or person collide. I’d never previously encountered one from Batley who was eight months pregnant and given the woman's overall size and seeming disposition, I genuinely feared for Christopher’s continued good looks and manhood as a consequence, especially once she clenched her fist ready to strike her assailant.

As Christopher steadied her to her feet with profuse apologies, the fallen woman recognised the TV and film star whose hand was now entwined with hers and gleefully proclaimed, “It’s him! It’s James Herriot. Fancy bumping into theesen love, and on the Batley high street of all places. I never knew tha' shopped 'round here!”
Now, had it been myself who’d knocked the Batley woman to the ground, I would have received a few Batley swear words, chosen for their vitriolic capacity to throw doubt upon the legitimacy of my birth, followed by a solicitor’s letter claiming punitive damages for assault and battery to herself and unborn child.
Now, had it been myself who’d knocked the Batley woman to the ground, I would have received a few Batley swear words, chosen for their vitriolic capacity to throw doubt upon the legitimacy of my birth, followed by a solicitor’s letter claiming punitive damages for assault and battery to herself and unborn child.

But not Christopher. He can bowl women over at will and send them reeling to the ground. He can bump ‘em off left, right and centre, and all he will get in response is an autograph request followed by a special invite to the Christening of the newly-born Batley babe whose proud parents have called Christopher for a first name and Timothy for his middle name of course! And the reason for the Batley bumper's response is quite simple. It’s not because he is a star, but because he’s a ‘loveable' star, which brings me nicely to the central point of this article.

What is it that distinguishes the difference between ‘celebrity’ and ‘star’ status? The difference is as marked as a night-time sky with stars and one without.
‘Celebrity' is the only status that is attainable by both genius and moron, artisan and workshy, accomplished and inadequate. It can be achieved in the New Millennium without an ounce of skill or intelligence in many instances, thanks to the importance that TV 'reality shows' play in the lives of today's society. Any Tom, Dick or Harry who manages to achieve brief yet wide public recognition will satisfy today’s requirement for potential celebrity status. Furthermore, it’s not even a prerequisite that what they become widely recognised for is in the public good, represents any special skill, or contributes one jot to the betterment of humanity. All that is required is that they are seen and that they are accepted as ready-made 'celebrities' by the mass and often undiscerning crass television voter!

Power, wealth, gross incompetency; indeed, any manner of notoriety can make one a celebrity today just as easily (and more often easier) as achievement and excellence in a specific field can.We live in a world of ‘individualism’ today, a world where ‘cult admiration’ trumps goodness and greatness: a world in which a public lecture given by The Yorkshire Ripper would be guaranteed to attract a more sizable audience than the Pope’s Easter Address or that of The Archbishop of Canterbury.

From the many celebrities I’ve met (over 850 between 1990 and 2000), the ones whom I view as ‘stars’ each displayed that blessed trinity of characteristics which set them apart from the man in the street; humour, humility and humanity in abundance. Most of them have served life-long apprenticeships in order to discover, identify and refine their talents and skills which justifiably led to their stardom. They are much-loved by the public because they are 'loveable in themselves.’
Therefore, as natural givers of a surfeit of love they are naturally deserving of receiving much love in return. They shine brightly because of their capacity to light up the world around them. They are generous, considerate, compassionate and conscience driven. They exhibit courage in the face of adversity and possess the capacity to feel beyond the immediacy of their own private and often most-pressing needs. A few are even born to a 'greatness' that is beyond their control, like the Dalai Lama; a man I would have loved to meet and a person who embodies the three aspects of humour, humility and humanity.
Therefore, as natural givers of a surfeit of love they are naturally deserving of receiving much love in return. They shine brightly because of their capacity to light up the world around them. They are generous, considerate, compassionate and conscience driven. They exhibit courage in the face of adversity and possess the capacity to feel beyond the immediacy of their own private and often most-pressing needs. A few are even born to a 'greatness' that is beyond their control, like the Dalai Lama; a man I would have loved to meet and a person who embodies the three aspects of humour, humility and humanity.

Perhaps the finest example of all and another person whom I would have loved to have met would haved been Mother Teresa of Calcutta. She epitomised everything that was good about humanity and displayed sheer industriousness and perseverance in the face of all odds. Her good deeds towards the sick and the poor lit up the souls of the world. She was undoubtedly a living saint who was powered by the soul of humanity and its needs!
It is by a fragment of these qualities that I know the ones whom I’ve been privileged to meet as ‘stars.’ It is such qualities, which make them much more than mere celebrities.
It is by a fragment of these qualities that I know the ones whom I’ve been privileged to meet as ‘stars.’ It is such qualities, which make them much more than mere celebrities.

During early 1994, I wrote to Roy Castle and invited him to visit a Kirklees’ school in March to read from a newly published book of mine, entitled ‘Maw’. Proceeds from the book sales were to be given to a local children’s hospice. A phone call from Roy confirmed his willingness to accept the invitation, health permitting. He had recently been diagnosed with a fatal illness which he hoped to beat. Recurring illness however, prevented Roy from keeping this reading engagement, but at 8.30am on the morning of the book launch, Roy phoned me up to wish me well. He had only recently been readmitted to hospital and had been discharged the previous night.

Roy Castle was a star I never met and only spoke to a few times on the telephone,, and communicated by letter with, but he was a man I wish I’d had the opportunity to know better under more favourable circumstances. So moved was I by this dying man’s humanity and humility, to phone up a stranger up North a short time before his own death in order to wish him well on the day of a book launch. Even in times of great pain, Roy never stopped thinking of others or placing their needs above those of his own. He was a true star that shone as bright as any other in the Galaxy of Greats!

I was so moved by his action that I promised to write my next book in memory of his life and to dedicate the proceeds from its sale to his charity, ‘The Roy Castle Appeal.’ “You’ll like it, Roy” I told him. I’ll never forget his reply:
“I’m sure I will, but I won’t be around to see it. I won’t be around next spring, Bill, but the flowers will still bloom, the grass will still grow green, the wind will still blow and the birds shall still sing their song.”
As Roy spoke these beautiful words to remind me that without him or I, life will still go on, he also reminded me of a truth I’d learned many years earlier when I discovered the reason ‘Why birds sing?’ The simple answer is ‘because they have a song to sing.’
Like another favourite entertainer of mine, the great Mario Lanza, Roy Castle loved his life and viewed all of his days, particularly those towards the end of it as being 'golden days'. I know that he would have liked the song below epitomising these feelings of his that endured throughout his lifetime.
“I’m sure I will, but I won’t be around to see it. I won’t be around next spring, Bill, but the flowers will still bloom, the grass will still grow green, the wind will still blow and the birds shall still sing their song.”
As Roy spoke these beautiful words to remind me that without him or I, life will still go on, he also reminded me of a truth I’d learned many years earlier when I discovered the reason ‘Why birds sing?’ The simple answer is ‘because they have a song to sing.’
Like another favourite entertainer of mine, the great Mario Lanza, Roy Castle loved his life and viewed all of his days, particularly those towards the end of it as being 'golden days'. I know that he would have liked the song below epitomising these feelings of his that endured throughout his lifetime.

Until the hour of his death, Roy Castle ‘had a song to sing’ and he sung it! Roy was a rare and remarkable man who managed to face life while staring death in the face. His like will not be seen so readily in the years to come. I’m pleased to say that his reading place was taken by the legendary footballer, John Charles (since deceased), who stood in at the eleventh hour. The entire story was personally recorded and sent to the school by magician, Paul Daniels.

The following year, I published ‘Nancy’s Song’, the book I promised Roy that I would write on behalf of his charity before he died. I think he would have liked it. In fact, I know he would!
One of the first celebrities I invited to read from it was the television star Gordon Kaye, who wanted to say 'Allo Allo' to a school of children in Huddersfield.
One of the first celebrities I invited to read from it was the television star Gordon Kaye, who wanted to say 'Allo Allo' to a school of children in Huddersfield.

Another celebrity reader to promote ‘Nancy’s Song’ in our Yorkshire schools was the late Brian Glover; a man of considerable wit, warmth and charm. We met but the once, during the mid 90s (1996, I think), outside the theatre in Halifax where he was appearing. Upon first meeting, he greeted me with that wide grin of his and the words, “Hello my old luv” in his unmistakable broad Yorkshire accent, followed by, “Have we time to grab a cuppa before the school? I’m parched?”

As we drove to the Slaithwaite school venue where he was scheduled to read, Brian seemed full of beans and appeared so full of life. He remarked upon the beauty of the surrounding view and rabbitted on about this and that in his gruff Yorkshire accent. It was apparent that wherever his work in the theatre or on film took him that his heart would always rtemain in Yorkshire. He was a man whom it was impossible to ignore or fail to like. His reading of the story was so moving.

Later that morning as he read to the schoolchildren from the book, ’Nancy’s Song’, I was wholly unaware of the irony of the occasion. ‘Nancy’s Song’ tells the story of a family man who is dying. I learned some months later, after I heard the radio announcement of Brian Glover’s death that he’d known of his own fatal illness when he read ‘Nancy’s Song.’ I’d seen Brian Glover perform on stage and screen on many occasions, but I suspect that the reading that he provided to the schoolchildren that morning was probably one of the hardest performances he had ever carried off. As he read the sad tale, his all seeing eye seemed to sense the poignancy of a situation that only he was privy to. He spoke his words with a softness and gentleness of a human hand nurturing a delicate bird. Like a cluster of sunflowers, he continued to stand tall among the small children with a dignity that could only become a dying man who bravely carries on until the end makes it impossible for any further acting to continue. Brian's warmth of personality is something I will never forget about him.
In the early 90s, Catherine Cookson contacted me after she’d heard about a children’s book that I’d written called, ‘Annie’s Christmas Surprise’ and had presented to three schools in Mirfield who were merging. She asked if I’d send her a copy, which I did.
In the early 90s, Catherine Cookson contacted me after she’d heard about a children’s book that I’d written called, ‘Annie’s Christmas Surprise’ and had presented to three schools in Mirfield who were merging. She asked if I’d send her a copy, which I did.

Two days later, I received a call from her husband Tom. He said his wife was very interested in my work and asked that if I wrote any more ‘Annie’ stories, would l send them a transcript of the stories: preferably in audio form as Catherine had been virtually blind for some time now. I’d written twelve seasonal ‘Annie’ stories (one story for each month of the year), which had some months earlier been recorded on tape by the actress Brigit Forsyth who played Thelma of ‘The Likely Lads’ TV fame. Three weeks after sending the tapes to Dame Catherine, Tom phoned me again and during the conversation passed the phone to his bed-bound wife. Dame Catherine thanked me for letting her hear the stories which she said she enjoyed immensely. The faintness of her voice made her sound like a young girl nervously expressing admiration to some adult 'father figure.'
Two weeks later, I received a letter in the post from Tom and Catherine, enclosing a cheque for a substantial amount, which covered most of the amount required for the funding cost of publishing a 500 limited-edition publication of the book. The twelve stories were eventually published in one book entitled, ‘Action Annie’ and all proceeds from its sale was given to Mencap. Norma Major who was the Prime minister's wife at the time asked permission to read from the book in a school in her husband's constituency.
Two weeks later, I received a letter in the post from Tom and Catherine, enclosing a cheque for a substantial amount, which covered most of the amount required for the funding cost of publishing a 500 limited-edition publication of the book. The twelve stories were eventually published in one book entitled, ‘Action Annie’ and all proceeds from its sale was given to Mencap. Norma Major who was the Prime minister's wife at the time asked permission to read from the book in a school in her husband's constituency.

There was also an open invitation to visit their home when I was next in the Jesmond area. In March of 1998 I decided to visit the Tom and Catherine, but before I went I received a letter from one of her friends telling me that both Dame Catherine and Tom were ill. A few months later, Dame Catherine died and within a month of her death, Tom had also died.
Although Tom and Catherine never had children to their union, they both loved children dearly. I pray that their next chapter of life together proves to be as pleasurable and rewarding as the time they spent together on earth as man and wife.
Success never changed the core characters of Roy Castle, Brian Glover and Dame Catherine Cookson. They remained troopers until the final curtain came down. They were unashamed of their humble beginnings and were indeed proud of their background and never forgot it or tried to hide it.
Although Tom and Catherine never had children to their union, they both loved children dearly. I pray that their next chapter of life together proves to be as pleasurable and rewarding as the time they spent together on earth as man and wife.
Success never changed the core characters of Roy Castle, Brian Glover and Dame Catherine Cookson. They remained troopers until the final curtain came down. They were unashamed of their humble beginnings and were indeed proud of their background and never forgot it or tried to hide it.

Another person unchanged by success and who refused to wear the mantle of 'celebrity' was Alf Wight, the vet-turned-author who created that much-loved character of James Herriot. Alf was a gentle, unassuming man who was considerate in the extreme. Upon meeting him, one could tell instantly that his wealth lay not in his considerable bank balance, but in the deep love he felt for the countryside he was brought up and had lived his life in.
Alf would often send me an autographed book of his to sell at one of my ‘literary lotteries' or a cheque to go towards onre of my charitable causes. I’ll never forget the very last book I received from him. Upon opening the book, I noticed the unsteadiness of the hand that had autographed it one day earlier and commented upon it. After receiving the book in the post, I was listening to the radio when it was announced that Alf had died two hours earlier.
Even on the eve of his death, and despite being in pain, the generosity of the man led him to autograph and post me the book by first class post that he said he would. It pleased me immensely that the winner of Alf’s last autographed books was John Thorpe, columnist of The Yorkshire Evening Post; a mutual friend to me and Alf over many years.
Alf would often send me an autographed book of his to sell at one of my ‘literary lotteries' or a cheque to go towards onre of my charitable causes. I’ll never forget the very last book I received from him. Upon opening the book, I noticed the unsteadiness of the hand that had autographed it one day earlier and commented upon it. After receiving the book in the post, I was listening to the radio when it was announced that Alf had died two hours earlier.
Even on the eve of his death, and despite being in pain, the generosity of the man led him to autograph and post me the book by first class post that he said he would. It pleased me immensely that the winner of Alf’s last autographed books was John Thorpe, columnist of The Yorkshire Evening Post; a mutual friend to me and Alf over many years.

The stars’ consideration never ceases to amaze me. I first met the film star Rosemary Leach in November,1990 when she was one of the celebrity readers of my first book, 'Everyone and Everything' in a Kirklees school. It was a few years later when I wrote and invited her to send an autographed book of hers for a charity auction that I was holding. When she replied she said that she had never written a book. However, she enclosed a book that she used often during her acting career, particularly in her early years of apprenticeship. She stressed that it meant more to her than any other book she has ever known, and hoped that the money it would raise would be of help to another. I was so moved by her gesture of selflessness that I made sure that I outbid all others for the book and I posted it back to Rosemary after the auction had been held as my gift to her.
During the summer of 1995, while on sick leave, I received a ‘mystery call’ lasting less than one minute in duration. Picking up the phone I said, “Bill Forde speaking” to which the voice of a woman replied without introduction, "I will try to come and read for you if at all possible. I will!” Before I could reply, the caller had rung off. I knew the voice, having heard it before, but couldn’t put a face to it. For the next day, the identity of the mysterious voice haunted me, and then I remembered to whom it belonged; Princess Diana.
During the summer of 1995, while on sick leave, I received a ‘mystery call’ lasting less than one minute in duration. Picking up the phone I said, “Bill Forde speaking” to which the voice of a woman replied without introduction, "I will try to come and read for you if at all possible. I will!” Before I could reply, the caller had rung off. I knew the voice, having heard it before, but couldn’t put a face to it. For the next day, the identity of the mysterious voice haunted me, and then I remembered to whom it belonged; Princess Diana.

I had first come into contact with Kensington Palace during 1990 when an aide to the Princess phoned me at home and said that Princess Diana would consider it a great kindness if I could send her a copy of two of my books, ‘Douglas the Dragon’ and ‘Sleezy the Fox.’ She wanted the books to read to the then young princes William and Harry as she had heard that they were ideally suitable for children aged 7-9 years. I was both greatly pleased and proud to send two copies of my books. And although I never did ascertain how my name as an author had come to royal attention, I was inwardly cocker hoop that the next King of England’s mother had read my books to him and his younger brother at their bedtime.

In the years that followed, I had written to Princess Diana and invited her to read to the children in one of our schools if ever she was in West Yorkshire. Although she never replied personally, I did receive notification from one of her staff that she would keep the invitation in mind and would be pleased to undertake the public engagement if it was at all possible at any future date. It was nice to think that my invitation remained in her mind, even if she never managed to act upon it.
I have felt privileged to have come into contact with such ‘stars’; each of whom brought happiness and light to everyone they touched.
Copyright William Forde March, 2012
I have felt privileged to have come into contact with such ‘stars’; each of whom brought happiness and light to everyone they touched.
Copyright William Forde March, 2012