Sir: I refer to the open letter by Ray Harris ("Dear Cliff Richard", 31 May) in which, with great perspicacity, he puts his finger on what started "youth culture" in Britain, namely the film Summer Holiday. A brilliant analysis and exposure, appearing for the first time in the press, apart from the review by that doyenne of film criticism, Penelope Gilliat, who talked about "the essential communism" of the film when she reviewed it in the Observer.
However, and with some reluctance, I do have to point out to Mr Harris that Cliff and his bus crew did not make up the words as they went along; they were, in fact, supplied with most of the songs by myself and my late partner, Peter Myers.
Of course, we soon realised the horror that we had unleashed upon an innocent and unsuspecting world. Peter found he could no longer live with his shame and died in 1977. I, being of a much more callous nature, still live on but not a day goes by without a feeling of contrition for yet one more dastardly deed of youth, for which I know I am ultimately responsible.