Meeting Richard Burton.

Meeting Mr. Richard Burton (or an introduction to being
proud.)

The film Absolution was made at a boarding school near Shrewsbury in
1979. The school later asked for the removal of their name from the
credits, as once the content of the film was known it would not have
done the school any favours. Whether this was in part due to the
filmmakers withholding the worst scenes I'll probably never know. But
at least I got to meet Richard Burton.

The majority of the film was shot in the school holidays but for the
crowd scenes the director needed the whole school to go about its
normal business. Which, if normal business meant a roll call one
morning in excess of 15 times, or having to arrive at lunch at least
ten times one afternoon, then that is the normal business we gave him.
Richard Burton was largely unseen throughout most of the school term
but a small number of us knew where he was. In order to house the main
stars: Billy Connolly, Anthony Page (the director) and Richard Burton
and his wife, some of the on campus teachers were to vacate their
houses. And as one of those teachers was my tutor it was inevitable
that I should be one of the first to know where Richard Burton was to
reside.

I remember being at my tutor's house and him saying at the end of an
evenings extra maths lesson, 'You'll have to see me in the biology lab
next week as,' he cleared his throat, 'Richard Burton will be using my
house for a few weeks.' To be truthful my only knowledge on Richard
Burton up to that point was my mother's exclamation once that he had a
gorgeous voice. Though I think I may also have seen one his films. Him
staying there was no consolation to me, as I would be missing tea,
biscuits and T.V. after the lesson; that was the bonus of having Mr
Taylor as a tutor. I think Mr Taylor supposed I would keep it a guarded
secret and after telling nine or ten people I had to a certain
extent.

The next week I had asked Mr Taylor if Mr Burton had moved in yet, he'd
replied that he had, accompanied by his wife, Sally.

With this in my head I went to games practice that afternoon with a
renewed enthusiasm for cross country, Stuart Whitmore, a friend and
confidant was also as enthusiastic as myself to the point of pushing me
into the bushes mid run to lose the rest of the runners. Where we had
stopped was only a stones throw over the hedge to the path going past
Mr Taylor's house, or Mr Burton's as it now was. I remember we crouched
by the hedge for a while, considering spying through the window, until
I hopped over the barbed wire and started to jog down the path.
Whitmore followed. About ten yards from the open front door I stopped
and feigned a stitch while trying to look inside the house, Whitmore
stopped beside me and did the same. It was no good we'd have to get
closer. As we neared the door a dark haired lady appeared and said,
'Hello boys, you look out of breath, would you like a drink?'

We approached her and answered, 'Yes please,' while trying to appear
out of breath.

'Well come in then, orange do?' The front doorway opened into the
kitchen and the lady ushered us in. We leaned against the counter in
the kitchen and waited for our drinks.

A gravel voice emanated from the front room, 'who's there Sally?'

'Some boys, out of breath and thirsty,' she replied.

Then from the front room came the imposing figure of Mr Burton, 'Well
come in her you two, sit down.'

We entered the front room to see Richard Burton now reclining in the
far side corner of the sofa. The room smelled different to that which I
remembered, aromatic but pleasant. I sat the other end of the sofa and
Whitmore sat in the armchair.

'So what are you two doing here, lost?'
Whitmore mumbled, 'No, we're on a cross country.'

'Ha, on a cross country that goes through an out of bounds area is
it?'

That threw us and neither of us said anything. Luckily the subject was
changed quickly.

'Well where are you from,' he asked Whitmore, 'where do you
live?'

Whitmore replied The Wirral and Richard Burton asked the same of me. I
had always, not been embarrassed but really never been proud to have
been from Wales. It was a multi-cultural school and compared to Saudi
Arabia, Jamaica or India, Wales did not seem to have that much going
for it. Well, to a boy of 15 anyway.

I said, 'Wales.'

'Well now we've got something to talk about,' he enthused.

For the next 40 minutes we talked about Wales, I don't remember every
question I asked him or that he asked me, but I know that he had been
to Llanelli (my mother's home town), that he loved Wales and wished he
could work there more often. His wife, Sally, also joined in the
conversation even pouring tea for us later on. We spent nearly an hour
in the company of the two of them. Whitmore was completely enthralled
by the wicked anecdotes he told us and at one point actually had a fit
of uncontrollable giggles.

Eventually Richard decided it would be best if we left so as not too
get us into trouble, we did and he wished us the best in anything we
did.

The point of this is not that I remember meeting Richard Burton, but
because of Stuart Whitmore, a normally proud English boy, saying as we
walked back to school, 'I wish I was Welsh.'

JJBHUGHES
15/05/00

jjbhughes@hotmail.com