Laurence Olivier: The outrageous confessions of an upper-class Lolita (MAIL ON LINE)

Laurence Olivier, Robin Day, Lord Lambton ... as a teenager, PETRONELLA WYATT was groped by a bevy of her famous father’s friends. Here, in an article that will justifiably enrage many, she says society must be less censorious of such behaviour. Even more controversially, she argues young women can be terribly manipulative

A PROVOCATIVE PERSONAL VIEW By PETRONELLA WYATT PUBLISHED: 20:17 EST, 11 March 2013 | UPDATED: 07:20 EST, 12 March 2013

As the sun beat down on the Mediterranean villa, I found myself dazzled not by the brightness of the day but by the fame of the elderly man sitting beside me.

The legendary actor Laurence Olivier was an acquaintance of my father’s, who had rented a holiday house not far from where Olivier was staying.

My father and I had been invited to lunch that day. The others had gone swimming, leaving Olivier and I alone. He asked me how old I was, and I told him I was 15.

‘ “San Quentin quail” as they used to say in Hollywood,’ he replied.

‘What’s that?’ I asked, puzzled, blissfully ignorant of his reference to the notorious jail.

‘Forbidden fruit, my dear. What a pity. You have such a lovely little figure.’


It is true that I was very curvaceous, and often passed for 18.

Olivier was undaunted. ‘Come and sit on my lap,’ he instructed. Awestruck, it did not occur to me not to comply.

Once I was perched on his lap, Olivier planted a wet kiss on my lips. It was not a pleasant experience, since his breath smelt like a starving coyote’s. He complimented me on my breasts, touching one of them with his hand. Then he sighed and released me, thanking me for being ‘kind to an old man’.


No doubt many people will be offended by this, arguing that as Olivier had suborned me, he might have suborned others. They will assume I was traumatised, my innocence lost. How full of righteous vengeance must my father — the politician and journalist Woodrow Wyatt — have felt, his precious child having been violated.

In fact, I had never felt more flattered in my life and, on the journey home, I burst out gleefully: ‘He groped me! Laurence Olivier groped me!’

Did my father choke on my words and threaten vengeance? No, he laughed.

‘The old devil! Did he do anything else?’

When I said Olivier had also kissed me, my father asked: ‘Did you enjoy it?’ Many will argue that my father should have been thrown into jail with Olivier. But when I was growing up, so many of my father’s friends made passes at me that if I had sued each one, I would still be in court to this day.

As well as Olivier, there was broadcaster Robin Day, the actor Albert Finney and Lord Lambton, the notorious Conservative minister who was secretly photographed smoking cannabis in bed with two prostitutes.


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