Diaries 1969-1979_ The Python Years - Michael Palin [31]
Thursday, November 19th
At 6.00 I was awakened from a deep and satiated slumber – Helen said she felt stronger contractions, but was unsure whether to ring the hospital. Went to sleep again.
At 6.30 woke to hear Helen expressing dissatisfaction with the telephone – it was out of order and she was trying to ring the hospital; the contractions were stronger than ever.
Thomas was crying and outside the rain was beating down the village in heavy waves. I felt grim – but got up, dressed, went over to Edward and Jayne’s1 and got them out of bed to use their phone. When I got back Helen’s contractions were quite severe – she was in favour of getting an ambulance – but I bundled her and Thomas into the car and set off through the rain for UCH [University College Hospital]. Arrived there at 7.00. No porter in reception, didn’t know where the labour ward was, and Helen was leaning against a trolley in considerable pain. Eventually a porter appeared and all he could do was reprimand me for parking on an ambulance place. Left Helen in the lift with him and went back to the car. Drove Thomas over to Camden Town and left him at Mary’s, then arrived back at the hospital at about 7.45. Fortunately it was a day in which I only had one shot to film. At 8.00 I rang the location, and was able to get out of that one shot so, by incredible coincidence, I had the day off.
I settled down in the waiting room and snoozed. At 8.45 I began to feel very hungry – I’d been up for two and a half hours. I found a nurse and, with breakfast in mind, asked her what state Mrs Palin was in. The nurse giggled a little and said ‘She’s delivered.’ A little boy – 6lb 120z.
There Helen was – in a very modern delivery room – looking for all the world as if she’d just been to the shops and back. Hair neat and unsweaty, face a healthy, unruffled pink. Apparently she had given birth in the admissions room just after 8.00 – she had been bathed and was being put in a wheelchair to go up to the delivery room, when she had to tell them that the baby’s head was sticking out. The doctor was off having breakfast, so two nurses delivered the child.
After tea at Mary’s I visited Helen at 6.30. William, or Matthew as he then was, was small, wrinkled and wizened. When I touched him his face creased into a look of bitter discomfort and annoyance, but I really loved him.
Friday, November 20th
Back to filming. Unsettled, mainly wet weather, set the schedule back, but I enjoyed the day – it was somehow less bewildering than yesterday.
At lunchtime I bought ten bottles of wine and we all celebrated William’s birth. Eric was appalled by the name William and felt Matthew much less boring. Terry was the opposite.
It’s funny, but I have doubts about Matthew – as Terry said, it’s ‘Hampstead children with page-boy haircuts’. Happy with William.
Monday, December 7th
As I lay, half-awake, watching William being fed, the lights all went out. It was the first power-cut I can remember since the days we lived in Sheffield, caused this time by a work-to-rule of the electricity supply workers. Our lights were out for two hours. Apparently they were switching off selected areas in rotation. The work-to-rule is now three days old, and we have had five power-cuts, the longest being three hours yesterday afternoon.
Tuesday, December 8th
A Python cast lunch at fashionable Parkes restaurant in Beauchamp Place.
At our luncheon – I had lamb which was mainly very expensive – we talked about the future. It seems that all of us are prepared to start work on