Living North magazine review of my book Coalmines, Confessions

& Dancehalls with Return to the North (Autobiography ISBN 9781 45678 4546)

16th September Morton’s Club 1977

The night I met Marc, then followed him to the ‘ tree ‘
and his accidental death

That night in Morton’s Restaurant, where I played mellow piano...and sang even more ‘ mellowly ‘ there were only a few diners around 1am.

The evening had been as crowded and busy as usual....full of fascinating talented beautiful people..stars

They looked quite normal to me, some dress up, some dress down, often a table of fashionable diners stood out from the others, ladies in small chic veiled hats, and if I’d arranged my time better...as a  Fashion  Artist I could have made memorable sketches of these evenings.

Being used to ‘role play' I didn’t mix up my Art with Music or indeed with my ‘'Mother and Home Cooking roles', no I focused on the job now,   and after 1am..I sang a little motown  souly stuff, in fact I remember the song ..a Major Harris composition called ‘ Love Won’t Let Me Wait ‘ and was enjoying myself, when I noticed three people come on to a corner  table furthest away from ‘ my piano in the corner next to the long elegant balcony windows.’
A big black hat on a big black ‘ Motowny ‘ guy caught my attention. I never knew who everyone was by name, just occasionally recognised a famous  face. A good looking black woman and a tiny lad, urchin-like with a mop of curly black hair whose head was down reading the menu,or just resting.

If a voice in my ear had said ‘you will accompany these people tonight to a tragic scene' ..I think I might have left immediately.
No,  the voice I heard was the charming warmth of Richard Jones introducing himself and asking my name, pointing out his sister Gloria and Marc Bolan at the table.

Marc  had asked if it was Blossom  Dearie  at the piano (what a compliment) only I didn’t think so at the time.  Richard said they were  loving my music!!!  And they’d heard a lot of singers etc. In the last couple of days/nights  and I was the one they liked the most.
Wait on...was I hearing dreams?  No they were just being charming and I was ‘mellow' my strength was, the voice was no competition to anyone...you could talk while I played and sang, no-one felt they had to applaud, in fact the notes I received from the members dining, was ’ we don’t want to spoil your set  by applauding ‘

That atmosphere also meant I could happily cruise along without trying to impress.
After their dinner Richard brought Marc and Gloria over to say hello and of course then I recognised Marc’s pale powdered face from the 5pm. TV Show my son Sy aged 7yrs. watched sometimes with Louisa aged 11yrs. My daughter Charlotte aged13 yrs. may have watched..she was a Mod. Into Northern Soul and The VIP ‘s..  Marc wanted to send them autographs, we looked around for paper napkins, and he sent one to each. Sadly we don’t remember what became of them...

Thanking him I looked in his eyes and said ‘Marc you belong to another World‘

He ( like a lot of performers ) was quiet, almost subdued and thoughtful, as he smiled at my statement.

Gloria asked if she could play something, this was before they went down to the bar, she saw my Motown  Songbook  and opened it to ‘ If I were your woman ‘ and played and sang for a while.

They decided to check out the Bar downstairs, and I had to play here a little longer. Richard asked me please come down and join us. This was quite cool and I felt it would be rude not to join them again.

Eventually  I pack up my mike and tidy the music away, so around 2.20am I go down to the bar.

Richard greets me and draws me to their table...I don’t know who these people are, maybe Marc’s manager and a few friends or business associates, people are drifting home, some around the grand piano where Gloria is singing and playing without music...that I notice, if only I could do that.

Feeling tired, I try to leave but Richard has some scheme in mind, and wants me to wait...it’s well after closing time and I honestly don’t recall talking to anyone, and really want to go home, so we’re edging to the door and Richard is becoming agitated about his ideas of Gloria and I trying to do something together.  I’m absolutely sure Gloria didn’t have a clue what he was going on about, really didn’t involve Marc at all. Outside he’s is shouting at me...he was in a panic, looking back could be he didn’t know either what he intended, but HE KNEW it included me.

I wasn’t panicking, I had my car, and for some strange reason I agreed to go back with them to Richmond.

Then Richard relaxed... Gloria and Marc walked along the Square to the mini, giggling together!! And I waited in my car directly parked outside Morton’s front windows.

We  start off on the journey, one that I’d never experienced before, I was used to the West End and then North London. It was important that I followed Gloria, she knew the way, the roads looked shiny as though there ’d been a shower or it could be the moisture from the early morning, it seemed a long journey to me and every now and then I would lose sight, and Gloria’s mini would be round the next corner. Richard talked a lot, mostly about making me a star, and then dropped off to sleep, they’d had a long day.

There’s was a bend, a rise in the road and then suddenly I see her car by the tree.. looking ‘ odd ‘ and steaming. I stop my car some distance away, perhaps I was cautious or fearful, but I gently wake Richard and question what’s happened.. we must go and see. We heard no noise, so far behind and the hump in the road kept the noise to itself. There was just a slight moonlight above and I didn’t expect what we saw. Marc  lay in the back, still and quiet, but poor Gloria was badly injured with a wounded neck, lying on the floor. I insisted Richard lift them both out, as I felt any moment the vehicle could go up in flames. I rushed back to my car and brought it nearer, getting my mother’s old ‘air raid shelter‘ blanket from the boot and laying it on the road between the two cars.

I don’t know how Richard managed to get them out but I heard a car engine, and asked Richard if I  should rush out and stop the driver for help. The car whizzed past, Richard didn’t want me to stop the car. I think celebrities have to be so careful whom they trust because of false rumours.  If the driver had seen we were in trouble, the fact is that car didn’t attempt to offer help or stop at all. 

Richard was demented, but I had to get help immediately...he pleaded with me to stay, but what good would that do, we  had no mobiles, no lights indicating  houses in sight, I knew  there would be a familiar red telephone box  at a crossroad and I had to leave Richard alone, get in my car and drive off to call the Ambulance

Marc and Gloria were now on my mother’s blanket, and  Marc  just lay there looking the same to me as when I met him earlier ,his clothes still glittering and I could see no injury, he’d just gone, to that other World  I’d spoken about.

At the next crossroads I rang the Ambulance and waited by the box as they suggested...didn’t know the road I was on.

They came shortly and I followed to the Hospital where I rang my husband David Wager and my three children safe at home.

This is the first time since that night September 16^th 1977 that I have told my story of the tragedy.

Writing my Autobiography in 2011 is the only reason why I relate this sad event in my life.

Youtube book trailer : http://youtu.be/3Qge32Ut_lI