Brian, you were born on 15th August 1931 in Woodford, Essex, the first-born of parents Leslie and Olive, who were married in February 1931 – we can all do the maths. Your father Leslie was an established, self-employed insurance broker and your mother was a milliner. You were
fairly well off in those days, having a live-in maid, a car and – shall
we say – a comfortable lifestyle.”
Brian George Mortleman: “Well, it wasn’t so unusual then. There
was a big gap between employers and employees. After the war, things
changed. My father died on Christmas day 1943, and although we were
well provided for we were by no means affluent.”
KY: “Now is the time for your first record. What’s it to be?”
BGM: “Well Kirsty, I have noticed that your guests often choose
at least one piece of classical music, however common they are. So
let’s get that out of the way. It is the Adagietto from Gustav
Mahler’s 5th Symphony. I find it very moving and hauntingly sad. Not
for the happy times in life.”
KY: “That was played from a record of the original
soundtrack of Visconti’s film Death In Venice. Moving on, your
brother Alan was born a year and 12 days after you on 27th August
1932. You both went to a private preparatory school locally, but in
1940 you were sent as boarders to West Buckland, a public school near
Barnstable in Devon. How was that?”
BGM: “Well Kirsty, it was as a form of evacuation to get us out
of London. We hated it . As little boys of 8 and 9 we were too young.
The usual intake was at age 13 but the school took a few younger pupils
as part of its war effort. We were there for over two years and stayed
down there for holidays. I think I have blocked a lot of that time
out of my memory.”
KY: “Time for your second piece of music. What’s it to be?”
BGM: “As a child I loved going to the pictures and to this day
I love cinema, particularly the old films. In those days, performances
were continuous. You could pay your shilling, or perhaps one and ninepence, and sit there for as long as you liked. There were always two
films, the news, trailers, and perhaps a ‘short’ like Look
at Life. At some cinemas – for example, The Rialto in Leytonstone – a
theatre organ would pop up, and a grinning man in evening dress would
invite the audience to sing along, following the words on the screen
with the bouncing ball. A favourite of the time was Mares Eat Oats and Does Eat Oats and Little Lambs Eat Ivy. I should like
to have that to remind me of those times.”
KY: “The version you have just heard was by The Berlin
Philharmonic Orchestra and the banjo was played by George Formby.
What happened when you left boarding school?”
BGM: “We came back to London and got places at state grammar
schools. I went to Wanstead County High School and Alan went to Sir
George Moneaux Grammar in Walthamstow. Both good schools. Dad died
during this period and I think this had a more profound and long-lasting affect on me than I realised at the time. It must have been
very difficult for my mother with two young children, doodlegugs and
V2 rockets to contend with. I had to grow up quickly and do my share
to keep things going.”
KY: “Time for record number three.”
BGM: “I used to make radio sets. I started with crystal sets
and built up to three-valve sets that needed high-tension batteries
and accumulators. I used to listen on earphones to American Forces
Network and the big American swing bands. I still like that sort of
music. The Glenn Miller Orchestra playing American Patrol can
represent that era for me. How my poor mother put up with all the
wires and equipment I will never know. I suppose it kept me out of
mischief.”
KY: “That was American Patrol played by The American Forces
Orchestra, conducted by Major Glenn Miller before his tragic death in
an aircraft accident. Well, he couldn’t have done it afterwards could
he? Be fair. Were you a good scholar? Did you enjoy schooldays?”
BGM: “The answer is no to both questions. I was an
average scholar and an average sportsman. To be quite honest, I think
childhood is overrated. Don’t get me wrong – I felt loved and secure, but I wanted to be grown up. I am grateful to Wanstead County High
because I made a lot of lifelong friends at school, many of whom are
still around. I am glad I went to a co-educational school, which I
hope has given me a balanced view of the opposite gender. I don’t
think I took proper advantage of opportunities offered. However, many
teachers failed to inspire – “Oh, when will the bell go for the end of
the lesson?”. Some teachers were bullies and – in a couple of cases I
can think of – almost sadistic. But young adulthood and the world
awaited me. There was the lure of having some money of my own,
there were girls, there was the prospect at 17 of learning to
drive a car.”
KY: “Before we talk about that, what about record number four?”
BGM: “If you wanted to meet girls, you had to be able to dance – I mean proper ballroom dancing, where you actually hold the girl and have to know the steps. The main dances were the waltz, the
quickstep and the foxtrot. The samba, the rumba and the tango were
also popular. There were a number of novelty dances like the Palais
Glide and the Hokey Cokey. I took dancing lessons at the Wanstead
School of Dancing, owned and run by Lionel and Eve Wagget. Eve was a
pretty and pert little redhead. I suppose she was about 30 at that
time. She taught me to the strict tempo music of Victor Sylvester and
his Orchestra. The music blared out from a good-quality gramophone in
the corner of the room. I enjoyed dancing, and although I was never
in the running for medals, I got by. Dances always finished with a
waltz, so I think for record number four I will choose the Anniversary Waltz played by Victor Sylvester.”
KY: “You have just heard the Anniversary Waltz played in
strict 123 time by Victor Sylvester and his Ballroom Orchestra.
Brian, you mentioned the world of work. What did you do when you left
school?”
BGM: “I intended to go into the family insurance broking
business, LR Mortleman Ltd, but it was decided that first I should
get experience elsewhere. I started as a junior clerk at The Law
Accident Insurance Society in Billiter Street in the City of London.
I was 17 and had passed my school certificate with matriculation
exemption. I couldn’t imagine why they wasted my educational talents
on doing the filing. However, I managed to get it all in a frightful
muddle. I progressed and I enjoyed working with a nice bunch of
people, some of whom became lifelong friends. I did a stint working in
Lloyd’s, firstly as a junior broker and latterly in an underwriting
box. This experience served me well and in 1960, aged 29, I went into
our family business, which I ran from then onwards. I enjoyed working
for myself and being my own boss. We had a staff of about 20, the
majority of whom were married women returning to work after bringing
up children. We managed to create a happy atmosphere which, apart
from anything else, was good for business. I always tried to be fair
and sympathetic. I liked my staff and I’m pretty certain it was
mutual. Many of them remained friends for years. I have a host of
happy memories of my time running a family firm, but this is not the
place to tell them.”
KY: “Now we come to record five. So far, Brian, you seem to be
fulfilling your potential as a nobody. I certainly wouldn’t be doing
this interview were it not for the BBC’s politically correct
policy. Anyway, what is your next boring choice?”
BGM: “This is where love and romance entered my life. I went on
a holiday abroad for the first time, with an old school friend of mine
named Michael Cutter. He was a six-foot-four, tough rugby player who went on to have three England trials. He never played for the
country, but he had a long career at the highest level of amateur
sport. He was good-looking and women liked him. Not many days after
we started our holiday we were sitting in Piano Bar in Dinard when we
spotted two attractive girls as brown as berries sitting at another
table. We thought they were French and we tossed up to choose who
would approach them. He lost so I send him over and he asked them, in halting schoolboy French, if they would care to join us for a drink.
“Don’t bother to speak French – we are English,” they said.
Eventually they
joined us (because there was no back way out, I was told later). And that was how I met my wife Rose. The Piano Bar was run
by a huge Belgian called Freddie. The pianist was very good, in a
demented sort of way, and one of the tunes he played a lot was called Sweet Lorraine. This became ‘our song’, and on our
50th wedding anniversary our son James gave us a CD with 50
versions of it. My favourite is the one by Stephane Grappelli and that is my
fifth choice.”
KY: “You have just listened to the Stephane Grappelli version of
Sweet Lorraine, played by the Hot Club of France with Django Reinhardt
on guitar. I’m quite surprised Brian – that was quite romantic. Have
you got any children?”
BGM: “Well Kirsty, even us nobodies have our romantic moments.
In answer to your question, we have one son, James,
born in April 1969. He came along 13 years after we were married and
after Rose had had a couple of miscarriages. He is now married to
Lisa and they have two children, Ellen (aged 9) and George (aged 7). I think James is a much better parent than I was. However, I
think I must’ve done something right for him to turn out so well. I
do remember thinking when he was little and chattering away that I’d
better listen to this because one day I may be the one chattering
away and him the one expected to listen. I remember dancing round the
house to the tune of Stealin’ Apples played by Benny Goodman, banging
saucepan lids in time to the music. We enjoyed that, and I would like
that record as a memory of James as a little boy. I am pleased to say
he entertains his children in similar ways.”
KY: “You have been
listening to the Benny Goodman Orchestra playing Stealin’ Apples. It
was recorded in Sweden. Brian, tell me, have you done anything
interesting during the course of your extremely boring life?”
BGM: “Not really, although
in 1977 Rose and I went to a Royal Garden Party in Buckingham Palace.
It came completely out of the blue and not because of any meritorious
act of ours. The Fire Officers’ Union were clients of mine. In these
more democratic times, the Royal Garden Parties were no longer the deb's
delight they were before the 1950s. They had been democratised, and
unions got an allocation of places. It was the Fire Officers’ Union practice to include one of their advisors in their party. In 1977,
the year of the Queen’s Silver Jubilee, Rose and I got an invitation.
It was a memorable occasion for us, and a surprise to see the extent
of the Royal Garden. I can’t think of any music that I want to
commemorate it as I often hear the National Anthem. On second
thoughts, there is a tune which is appropriate because of the line “there were angels dining at the Ritz and a nightingale sang
in Berkeley Square”. After we had been to the palace, we went to
the Ritz and had tea. My choice for record number seven is A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square.”
KY: “You have just heard
the 1940 recording of A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square sung by
Vera Lynn. Before your final choice, I will ask a question that I ask
of all my guests, which is... How would you cope on a desert island?”
BGM: “Not at all well. I
would miss my family and friends and would end up a weeping, useless
wreck.”
KY: “Before your final
choice, I have to tell you that you are allowed one book. We give you
the bible and the complete works of Shakespeare. What will it be?”
KY: “You are also allowed
one luxury.”
BGM: “An inexhaustible supply of cheese.”
KY: “We now come to your last
record. What is it to be?”
BGM: “I should need
something to make me laugh and remind me of England. Being fair-skinned, I would burn in the midday sun. I have two colours for sun-drenched beaches: maggot white and lobster red. When I was a youth, I
hoped all my freckles would join up to form a beautiful tan. It
never happened, so I settled for maggot white. I would like Mad Dogs and Englishmen Go Out in The Midday Sun sung by Noel Coward in
his plummy English voice.
KY: “It is yours. If you
had to save one record from the waves, which would it be?”
BGM: “Sweet Lorraine.”
KY: “Thank for sharing your Desert Island Discs with us.”
BGM: “It has been a
pleasure.”
KY (off-air to producer after BGM has left): “What a boring idiot! Thank God it will
never be aired.”
x
