George Harrison and Pattie Boyd separate

George Harrison and his first wife Pattie Boyd split up on 3 July 1974.

They had met in 1964 on the set of the A Hard Day’s Night film.

We got on a train at Marylebone Station one day and the train took off – and suddenly we were in a film! And in the film there were little schoolgirls in gym-slips, who were actually models, and we were quite fascinated with them – George even married one: Pattie Boyd.

In 1965 she moved into Kinfauns, Harrison’s Esher bungalow, and in December that year he proposed to her while they were driving in London.

They married on 21 January 1966 in a ceremony in Epsom, Surrey. Paul McCartney was the best man, and Brian Epstein also attended; John Lennon and Ringo Starr were on holiday abroad with their wives to distract journalists from the event. Following the wedding the pair spent their honeymoon in Barbados.

Their relationship declined during the early 1970s. He was often unfaithful towards her; she, meanwhile, was being pursued by Eric Clapton.

I was aware that Eric found me attractive and I enjoyed the attention he paid me.

It was hard not to be flattered when I caught him staring at me or when he chose to sit beside me. He complimented me on what I was wearing and the food I had cooked, and he said things he knew would make me laugh. Those were all things that George no longer did.

Although she had previously succumbed to Clapton’s advances, Pattie remained with George Harrison for several years as their relationship faltered. One night, at a party at the home of pop impresario Robert Stigwood, Clapton had confessed to Harrison his feelings towards Pattie.

During the early hours, George appeared. He was morose and his mood was not improved by walking into a party that had been going on for several hours and where most of the guests were high on drugs.

He kept asking ‘Where’s Pattie?’ but no one seemed to know. He was about to leave when he spotted me in the garden with Eric. It was just getting light, and very misty. George came over and demanded: ‘What’s going on?’ To my horror, Eric said: ‘I have to tell you, man, that I’m in love with your wife.’

The breaking point for Harrison and Boyd came on 3 July 1974.

Eric took me aside and pleaded with me once more to leave George. We were alone together for what felt like hours, and he was so passionate, desperate and compelling that I felt swamped, lost and confused. But now I had to make a choice. Would I go to Eric, who had written the most beautiful song for me, who had been to hell and back in the last three years because of me and who had worn me down with his protestations of love? Or would I choose George, my husband, whom I had loved but who had been cold and indifferent towards me for so long that I could barely remember the last time he’d shown me any affection or told me he loved me?

That night Eric left and went off almost immediately to America on tour with the band who had made 461 Ocean Boulevard. On 3 July I told George I was leaving him: it was late at night and I went into the studio and told him we were leading a ludicrous and hateful life, and I was going to Los Angeles to stay with Jenny [Boyd] and Mick [Fleetwood]. When he came to bed, I could feel his sadness as he lay beside me. ‘Don’t go,’ he said.

Half of me wanted to stay, and to believe him when he said he would make it better, but I was at the end of my tether. I must have weighed about eight stone and I was really, really thin. I said, ‘I’m going.’

The next day, with a great sadness in my heart, I packed some things, said a tearful goodbye to Friar Park and our two Siamese cats, then flew to America.