Morning old friends, as promised here is another gripping installment from my forthcoming (and fully updated) autobiography due out in the new year, available from all reputable book stores for just £5.99!!!. Right now let's settle down and fix ourselves a cold drink, a nice gin and tonic perhaps and feast on some delicious crusty bread spread with prime "head cheese" (any pork novices simply must try this delightful offal delicacy which is the tasty section of meat and tissue found in the pigs skull which is chilled and then set in gelatin!!!!) as I transport you back to May 1982...."My 5 bedroom mock tudor mini mansion in Barrow in Furness (above) is truly an imposing building but inside it is a peaceful, safe haven for my huge collection of dance artefacts and treasures. Housed within the ornate Tudor style outershell is a breathtaking array of tasteful decor and spectacular rooms but the most splendid and solemn of living quarters is Mater's shrine which is housed on the 2nd floor........
When I first moved into the glorious building the first thing I set about doing was hiring the services of Barrow based interior designer Roger Paquette who had the unenviable task of recreating Mater's simple but decorative bedroom from our old home in Rosamund Street in West Barrow, Mater and I lived in the nice 3 bedroom semi from 1966 to 1974 - the year of Mater's brutal m-m-m-m-murder....I still can hardly bring myself to utter the word but the truth will out, someone took her away from me and left me a shell, nay a fookin' wreck, stranded on a seabed of despair and loneliness. Deep down that person knows he has done wrong, that man is wandering around to this day gloating in the knowledge that he has killed not just one person in Hinge Sheepshanks but also me. On that day when Maters' head was thrust into the vat of scolding hot boiling lard not only Mater' died but I died too. Legal proceedings prevent me from discussing this in more detail but I'll say just 2 words.....Lockett and murder - the dirty fookin' bastid!!!
After the pointless slaying of Mater I left the pleasant, leafy surroundings of Rosamund Street and moved down to Bournemouth to mourn Mater'. I spent 4 painful years in my luxury caravan but in 1980 I knew that I finally had to move on and so plucked up the inner strength and courage to return to Barrow and rebuild my life, as luck would have it my dear old friend Selwyn Corbett was selling his luxury tudor home, he named a reasonable price I accepted and the rest as they say is chuffin' history..........
To recreate Mater's bedroom was truly to be a massive project for Roger as he painstakingly studied pictures and drawings to lovingly craft a perfect reproduction of Hinge's bedroom. On the day of completion, I handed over a cheque for £18,000 to the grinning Roger and he left me alone to soak up the pure majesty of Mater's finished shrine. Everything was perfect - her huge old oak wardrobe which housed her luxury dance gowns was in it's rightful place along with the ornate dressing table festooned with perfumes, hairbrushes and make up accesories. Pictures of myself and Mater on holiday and at prestigious dance functions adorned the walls and her old size 10 orthapaedic shoe sat serenley on the bed next to her glass eye which was fished out of the pan of hot lard on that deathly day and given to me back in 1978 after the official closure of the Hinge Sheepshanks murder case.
I must have spent 3 hours in that room alone that day, just sobbing hysterically into Maters' plastic wrapped pillow. It was a great help in my grieving process, to learn to take one day at a time and to return to normality....I retired from competitive dancing for 4 years in the midst of my grief and misery but I knew that Mater would want me to return to dance and this was confirmed late one night in a spiritually enlightening visitation by Mater!!!
Now I had never really believed in an afterlife but that fateful night in 1982 forced me to change my opinion. I remember it like it was this morning, By this period I was hitting the gin quite heavily and after a marathon binge session of 2 bottles of Gordon's finest and a handful of sleeping tablets I had just turned off 'Come Dancing' one warm July evening and after finishing off a large Corbetts sausage roll with lashings of pea juice had alighted the stairs to change into my velvet pyjamas. After cleaning my teeth I staggered into Maters shrine and gingerley sat down on her plastic covered sheets. Moments later and I felt a cold, deathly chill down my spine, suddenley Mater's old silver music box began to play a lullaby and I was bathed in celestial heavenly light. Fook! there was Mater' hovering over me in her 1946 British cup winning dance gown, her silvery soft hair slightly caked in lard.....chuffin' fook I thought as she beckoned me towards her, 'Tinkie poo, listen my son dearest Lester, you must move on, Mater is gone but she is fine and happy waiting for you dear Lester in heaven, Live your life to the full, enjoy all the pork and dance based experiences that you can and do not worry about me, the moment will be upon us one day and we shall be together again.....'
Minutes later I woke up soaked in sweat on Maters bed, the room was silent as I took a deep breath and slowly returned to my bedroom before falling into a restful Mater' dream filled slumber......that next day I vowed to live my life to the full again, Sheepsy was back and my feet of flames were reborn - Eeeeh fook, the sheer magic of dance!!!!!!"
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