 Houdini and his Hermits prepare for a series of illusionary tricks, but they're all "saw" points as far as Keith Hopwood is concerned. A bit of toe-tickling by Barry Whitwam isn't helping matters. "I'm very worried about turning twenty," Peter Noone, Herman of Herman's Hermits confided to me. He really seemed to mean it, too Our chat took place during a lunch break at Shepperton Studios outside Lindon, where the Hermits are filming "Mrs. Brown, You've Got A Lovely Daughter." "It's very sad to think I'll be leaving those teenage years behind me," he continued. "After all, my teenage years have been very good to me. It's terrible to think I'll be twenty on November 5th," said the reluctant young adult. Although a celebrated personality, Peter's as down to earth as ever. I discovered this when hunting him up for this interview. First I was misdirected to the VIP commissary. No sign of Herman, nor the Hermits. I was then misdirected to another commissary, used by the extras and film workers. Still no Herman. Someone pointed me in the direction of the bar, but there was no Herman there either. Next to the bar was an old, English-style public house, and that's where I finally found Herman, rather Peter, sipping root beer and chatting to film propsman, Harry Dyer. Seconds after starting to chat, we were joined by Hermit Derek leckenby.  Peter Noone relaxes in the studio commissary at Shepperton. He has a root beer with Hermit Derek Leckenby, and the man in charge of props, Harry Dyer. He's enjoying film work in London because at lunch time he can mingle with whom he pleases. In America he was given VIP treatment during lunch breaks - not exactly his cup of tea! "I suppose you're sad that your teen years are drifting away from you too," I said. "Not me," said Derek. "I'm the youngest thirty-year-old teenager in the business." We were soon joined by Hermit Keith, but Peter held the floor in a very humble way. "I was really knocked out the day I became a teenager," said Peter, "because I was allowed to put on long trousers. I've never worn short trousers since. And to think my father got married at twenty," he said, as if he thought the end of the world would come if he, Peter, happened to fall into the tender trap at that age. Despite reports that Peter drives both a jaguar and a Cadillac, he commented: "I don't have a car because I still haven't got a great sense of responsibility. If I could pass the test I'd probably get a flashy car and end up killing myself." (Peter has not graduated from anything other than a provisional license.) "My ambition from the time I was a drama student at Manchester School of Music was to own a Rolls-Royce by the time I was nineteen. But now I don't particularly want one. Apart from anything, if I bought a Rolls, it would be because I want to be able to always afford one. There are people who buy a Rolls Royce when they're on the crest of a wave, and then later they don't do so well, so they have to flog it and buy something else. I don't know if I would settle for anything inferior. "You need a lot of money in the bank to guarantee the upkeep of a Rolls for the rest of your life. My money goes straight into the bank," he stressed. There are plenty of so-called millionaires. I want to keep most of my earnings and be a millionaire for real." How does he feel about becoming an ex-teenager who is on the verge of becoming fabulously wealthy? "I'm not aware of being rich," he replied, "because I suppose you only become aware of it when you do flashy things - like putting a hundred quid (approximately $300) on a roulette wheel. I still only put half-crowns (approximately 35 cents) because I have a fantastic respect for money. "I suppose it's inherent," he said, "because my dad's an accountant. Although I must admit that when I was a little kid and sang in the Gilbert and
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 Fiddling around at rehearsals for "Mrs. Brown, You've Got A Lovely Daughter," Herman and Derek with twangy guitar, rehearse a new hit song "Holiday Inn." Sullivan operetta "The Mikado" at school, I just enjoyed singing it for the love of it. Never thought of money in those days, I didn't. When you haven't got any, you don't. It's only when you've tasted the forbidden fruit that you want more. Property's the thing to put your money in," he said. "It's fantastic." (Herman is a skillful investor - he reads the Financial Times every morning. He reads the London Times as well.) "But I hate people who cheat at the Times' crossword," he said. At one stage, Peter admitted that he wanted to become a part-time hermit by getting his father to open up a business and a home for him in Switzerland. He wanted to go there because it is "a beautiful country ... the people were great and everywhere it's so clean." However, his father, Denis Noone, hadn't quite warmed to the idea of venturing into Switzerland's cold climate. So instead, Denis and Peter Noone went into partnership in owning and running a hotel. "Where do you live when you're not making films?" I asked, unknowing. "Liverpool?" "Manchester," he corrected me with a frown, as if I just wasn't with the Manchester scene. "But neither am I living there any more," he said, bringing me up to date. "I live at Herne Bay." "Do you have a bachelor flat?" I asked. "I live with my mum and dad and the rest of my family. That's the best way for it to be," he said. "While I'm making this film, the boys and I are living at a hotel in the town of Shepperton here." Meanwhile, back at home, Peter's father runs the hotel at Herne Bay. We stood through lunch and Peter insisted on buying me rounds of open cheese, ham, and pickle sandwiches. "Isn't this an unusual lunch," I said, "root beer, pickled onions, and cheese?" "I never eat during the day when I'm working," he said.  "A succulent brew," says Herman as he savors a morning cup of tea on the set of his new MGM movie, "Mrs. Brown, You've Got A Lovely Daughter." How different was filming in Britain to filming in the United States? "It's much the same," he said, "people are pretty nice to us all over. But we wouldn't be able to lunch like this on a Hollywood film set. "We couldn't mix with the grips and all the little technical people working on the film. We'd be expected to have lunch in the commissary or privately," he said. "I've got to do some more films over the next couple of years under my contract. But I get the same amount of money whether I do them here or in America." How's his little sister, the child model, getting along, I asked. "That's all terribly exaggerated," he replied. "She's really done very little modeling and we don't want her to do any more for a while. We don't want her to become precocious and lose her sense of values as a child." Although Mrs. Brown has a lovely daughter who wins Herman's heart in the film based on Herman's hit record of 1965, there's still no serious lovely leading lady in Peter Noone's life. He still talks about the love scene in his first Hollywood movie ... "In the film, I had to kiss the girl," he explained, as if it were something that a mere mortal would quaver at. "It only happened once, but I was terribly embarrassed. "You see," he said, taking a swig of root beer, "she was already married." That's how it's been for Herman during his teens. As for turning twenty - he's still got plenty of new adventures to look forward to.
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