Here I was, flying across the Irish Sea, with the Womble beside me, George and Kenny opposite. And then, more seriously, I say: "Your mum and dad - have they always been proud of you?George's lovely sisters (who are extremely funny) are on board too, along with the rest of the entourage. " "No," he says, "I've just always been interested in Margate, 'cause I used to go there as a kid." "Yeah," I say, "There used to be a massive Cypriot community down there." I remember in 1974 it was my and my brother's birthday party. " George goes quiet for a while, looks up sadly and replies: "Yeah.Even though it was his boyfriend, Kenny, who lit George's fire, I still mentally associated George with millions of screaming female fans.Years later, I bumped into George and Kenny at Heathrow airport, as we all rolled off a BA flight from Berlin.We shared a spirit of camaraderie as we waited for Kenny to clear immigration.And then the pair of them swiftly disappeared through a secret door, special services.He even told me his name, but it made no difference to me. He spoke with the most amazing, jaw-dropping, sexy Texas twang.
They trusted me implicitly, but there was one golden rule.George gave me his phone number and I promised I'd ring him.