Finding Harry

Chapter 8

It was September 1959 and we were celebrating Cliff's second year in the business, at Bruce's apartment in south London. The whole gang was there – Tony, Hank, Bruce, Jet, Norrie Paramor (Cliff's latest manager), Cherry Wainer and Jackie Irving (two dancers at the Palladium), Cliff, and myself. There were also a number of carefully selected girls who Bruce and Jet had gathered from the local bars. There was loud music and a lot of alcohol. Norrie sat in the background whilst the guys (and gals) had themselves a party. But it was clear from the start that Cliff was definitely not into all this. He didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't swear or act recklessly, and he definitely had the utmost respect for every woman in his presence. He certainly didn't grope girls, or flirt outrageously, but instead became rather shy and contained in their presence.

Five minutes had passed, and Cliff had greeted everyone in the room, taken a few biscuits from a tray that sat in the middle of the room, and already he was leaving. I watched him as he walked out the room silently, as if trying desperately not to be noticed, and stepped cautiously up the stairs. I left it a while, and then went on after him.

He was in a small upstairs lounge, sitting on a sofa and idly nibbling at his biscuits, as if deep in thought. I knocked gently at the door and pushed it open slowly.

"You alright?" I asked.

"Yes, fine thanks," said Cliff, with a quiet smile. I went to sit next to him.

"What's bothering you?"

"Oh, nothing, it's just...well, I don't feel I can really identify with all of them downstairs. They're so different from me..."

"I know what you mean – they're getting drunk and flirting outrageously, and you just feel that people should act in a more respectful manner..."

"That's it exactly!" said Cliff, his eyes meeting mine.

"I feel the same way, I wouldn't worry...give it a few years and you'll find yourself a group of friends who think and behave just like you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I promise," I said. He looked comforted.

"Do you want a biscuit?" he asked, holding one out to me with gentle fingers.

"No, thanks," I said, "I've already had a few."

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

"So why are you here, anyway?" asked Cliff, seemingly out of the blue.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you had the opportunity to go back in time – why pick the 50s, and why pick me to visit, out of all the people?"

"Oh I don't know – I guess it was just always a pretty obvious choice for me, ever since I became a fan of yours."

"So what do you like about me? What's so great about Cliff Richard?"

"Oh," I said, "Things will become more and more apparent to you as you grow older, but basically, you're just such a lovely guy..."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah, really..."

"But aren't there loads of people around who are like me?"

I gave a surprised look, "! No! Certainly not where I come from, anyway – nearly everyone drinks, smokes, swears, and has sex outside of marriage. And I personally think it's despicable. You're one of the few famous faces I can think of who holds the same morals, values and beliefs as me. You're someone I can identify with – a role model."

"Really?"

"Yeah..." I said, going on, "Plus, you're really funny, you're fit, healthy, talented, kind, generous, passionate, gentle, caring, thoughtful, pleasant, lovely, and not to mention gorgeous!"

"I'm really all those things?!"

"Most definitely."

"Wow, Hannah, you sure do know how to make a guy feel good about himself..."

Another silence as we sat, smiling, and staring at the dark red carpet.

"...So do you love me?" he asked, looking into my eyes. Now this was a difficult question.

After a slight pause for thought, "...Of course I do," I said, "But not necessarily in a sexual way. I just care about you, that's all, and I think you're an absolutely terrific guy." He smiled, and we stared further into the carpet.

"It's getting late," said Cliff, a few minutes later.

"Yes, and you've got to be back at the studios tomorrow," I said, "Do you wanna head off home?"

"Yeah I think we'd better," said Cliff. We got up and went back downstairs to say our farewells. They were all pretty much out of it, though, and I don't think they knew we were leaving. Jet had pulled himself three girls, who were all giggling and surrounding him. He was such a user, he really was. Bruce also enjoyed taking advantage of the ladies, and was, himself, trying to get a gathering. I just cringed inside. I was so glad I'd found Cliff.

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