He took me under his wing, asked me to take over Monitor, that jewel I had admired for so long. I was too intimidated. Wheldon was an inspirational figure and a brilliant raconteur. He fronted Monitor with great elan. He chatted as an equal with Henry Moore and Orson Welles. I always felt tongue-tied in front of Huw. I had a dream one night that he had (painlessly) extracted all my teeth and my gums were frozen.
While Boorman may have been a suburban boy, Tom Priestley wasn't. His father was J. B. Priestley, who did one Monitor before my mother mysteriously insulted him while a guest at his lunch-table. She certainly had not meant to do any such thing. Unfortunately I do not recall the details of the story. I'm glad however that the Preistley-Wheldon association has been amicably repaired. It was very good to meet Tom, and Nicholas's party in the Betty Wu gardens at Wolfson as cheerful as ever.