HIL COLLINS has been through the mill this year, finally admitting the breakdown of his second marriage, and turning for comfort to a younger girlfriend. Nobody really knows what has gone on between him and his 36-year-old wife Jill, but what made it look worse was the evidence of irritable faxes that he had sent her. His image as the good guy and genuine geezer took a nose dive, although it hasn't stopped the audiences turning out for the sell-out British leg of his worldwide tour, The Both Sides.

One person who is solidly behind him is his mother June, who accompanied him to Buckingham Palace this month to see him receive the award of Lieutenant of the Victorian Order for his work with the Prince's Trust. They both glowed with pride as they stood for photographs.

She was at Wembley a week later in a family group with her daughter Carole to see the first night of his British tour. "I wasn't nervous, I've seen him perform so many times over the years. The only time we were nervous was at Hammersmith when he'd just taken over from Peter Gabriel as the front man for Genesis years ago.

"I felt so proud of him at Wembley. I sat back in my chair and thought, 'All these thousands of people and he's got them in the palm of his hand'. It's quite something. When I saw the bagpipes I thought, `Oh My God, what's this going to be like'. But he played them very well, after only three lessons."

Carole had heard him in Lisbon when he wasn't so proficient, and in a strange variation of the usual rock star myth, you can imagine him sitting alone in his hotel bedroom in the middle of the emotional turmoil, battling away with the bagpipes until he had mastered them.

he story of Phil Collins, drummer then lead singer for Genesis and now millionaire solo singer at 43, is not one of a debauched reveller or effortless genius. It's the tale of a driven perfectionist, a trait which has ultimately been his personal tragedy as his marriages fall by the wayside from the lack of time he is able to give to family. His best-loved songs - smoochy, emotional - draw on his own romantic anguish. His 1993 album, Both Sides, was inspired by and dedicated to Lavinia Lang, a former classmate.

An example of Phil's precocious perfectionism is in June Collins' photograph album. Aged five, and on stage in a Butlin's talent contest, he is dressed as Davy Crockett.

"He's there, this little tiny fella in the middle of an enormous stage with his microphone, and he walks up to the musical director and says: 'Excuse me, you're playing it in the wrong key.' I was so embarrassed, but he got away with it," says June.

"He's particular; if he's wrong he just can't be doing with it," says his sister.

The fact that he was away touring America with Genesis when his father, Greville, died 22 years ago affected him profoundly. "He's never really got over the fact he wasn't around. We couldn't get hold of him because he was flying back on Christmas Eve," says Caroie. His mother remembers the Christmas morning. "He came to the door singing a Christmas carol, armed with presents, and I had to say: 'Your Dad died this morning at 8 am.' It was a bit of a shock to him. He did once say to me, 'It'll never happen to you, what happened to Dad'," says June.

"Now he looks after mum with kid gloves. Because of what happened, he's particularly fond of her," explains Carole.

His background is comfortable, middle-class Hounslow, an unglamorous suburb of West London. Now in her well-preserved seventies, June still works every day in the theatrical agency she runs with daughter Carole at the Barbara Speake Stage School.

Phil is one of its most famous old boys, joining at 13. "When he got the part of the Artful Dodger in Oliver!, he was at Chiswick Grammar and the headmaster said if he wanted to do it, he had to leave. I said, "It's up to you," and he left. I didn't push him, I didn't have to. All three of my children have known exactly what they wanted to do. I didn't interfere, just let them do it. I don't think it's any good pushing children."

She should know, having worked as a children's theatrical agent for the past 30 years. It all started through Phil. "His father said he'd like Phil to have elocution lessons and through them I met Barbara Speake who asked me to set up an agency for her school."

Their father wasn't a snob, but wanted them all to speak nicely says Carole. "We were living in Hounslow and picking up the accent."

The school is in a modest building which looks like the church hall it once was. The routine is still similar to that of Phil's day, with smart, red and black uniforms and a mixture of academic and ballet, tap, modern dance, singing and drama lessons.

N THE offices at the front, there's a gold disc for Collins' album, Face Value, and photographs on the wall show him meeting the Prince and Princess of Wales - other pictures of former pupils include Jack Wild, Naomi Campbell and Michelle Gale.

It's homely and down to earth, like something straight out of a Noel Streatfield novel. A setting for starstruck brats it's not. A class of 15 six-year-olds - eight girls, seven boys - learning tap dancing in the utilitarian hall are totally unselfconscious, faces lit with obvious delight.

The Collins children were a gifted family. Carole competed as an ice skater and older brother, Clive is a cartoonist talented enough to make it his living. Phil had his first drum kit at five.

"He used to tap and drum from being very small. If he sat down at a table, he'd be tapping on it. He still does if you go out to a restaurant with him. I knew he'd go into showbusiness, as Carole did. They both just loved to get up on stage," says June. "Their father worked in insurance so really he wanted them to have ordinary jobs. But he was very proud of them."

Phil's big break was his six-month West End run as the Artful Dodger. "His voice gave way. It broke on stage in the middle of a song, and had to speak the rest of it. He killed himself laughing about that," says June.

He started a band at school and went out with most, if not all, the four girls in his class. "He had a great time, although it was all pretty innocent, nothing deep," says his sister.

His mother drove him to concerts. "I'd take his drums in my little mini until the kit got too big. When he was in Flaming Youth, they bought an old van which broke down all the time. In the middle of the night there'd be a phone call saying, 'Can you come and fetch us?' My husband would go, he was very good like that. He'd bring all his friends round, and there'd be all these groupies eating all my food and sleeping on the floor."

"Not groupies mum, you mean the people in the group, the musicians," says Carole.

They were a close family and still are. "Phil was a very good boy, wonderful to his grand-mother who lived with us, very caring. He was quite normal, played football. It's just he had set his heart on drumming and whatever he did, he did very thoroughly.

"When he got into pop music, I don't know what he got up to but I never heard of any trouble. The only problem I ever had was with his hair. He loved it long and I didn't. When he got his first flat, I said I'd buy him some duvet covers if he'd cut it."

Phil lived at home until his father died, when his mother gave him the money to put down the deposit to rent a flat in Epsom.

It was the relentless pressure of touring which broke up his first marriage to Andrea Brett, one of the girls in his class at school. She moved over to Vancouver with their children, Joely, 22, and Simon, 18, but remains close.

"He gets on very well with his first wife. She's happily married and they've always got on. He likes a friendly association. It's civilised, they've made it work. We even had her in the audience of This Is Your Life."

As far as June is concerned, his work hasn't affected his personal life. "He's still friends with people he was at school with, they still see each other."

N AN interview earlier this year, June's grand-daughter Joely Collins, who is an aspiring actress, talked warmly of her father, but admitted his work kept him away from his young family. "Dad's a workaholic, always has been. When I was growing up he was hardly there. But when he was around, he was a wonderful father. I'm sad his second marriage hasn't worked out, but it isn't a shock. Dad has always worked, worked, worked. He loves life on the road. I can't condemn him for that. Now I am working in showbusiness, I totally understand why he loves it so much. I do too. But sometimes, when I was younger, it was more difficult to understand."

None of the family doubts his emotional commitment to his children. June says: "He's been a very good father. When they were a bit younger, he used to ring them every Sunday at 8 pm our time, without fail, wherever he was. And whatever they wanted, he saw to it. They'd stay with him for three weeks in the holidays, and when he was in America he always saw them then as well. They are sweet kids, doing very well. Joely has got a part in a television series and Peter Gabriel has taken Simon under his wing, and he's drumming with him. Simon said to me a few years ago, 'What do you think my chances are of making it on my own?' I said, 'It would be nice if you could but I wouldn't be ashamed of using your father's name.'"

The picture with Phil Collins and his second wife is more troubled, with public squabbles over access to his daughter, Lily, five, and sympathy inevitably going to Jill, the wife abandoned while Phil continues restlessly to travel the world.

"That will have to take its course. I don't interfere and don't voice an opinion either. It's better that way, he'll do whatever he has to do," says June, which suggests she holds the same fatalistic view as her son - that his relationships have their own destiny and are beyond his control.

Does she think that he works too hard? "I feel he gives everything he has got. He enjoys it, and when he has a break, he has a thorough rest."

Carole adds: "People like to say, 'Oh he can't stop,' because they don't understand what makes him tick. But if you enjoy something and it's your hobby as well, you can do it 24 hours a day. It's like my mum, she doesn't need to work, but she enjoys it and it keeps her young."

His relationship with his Swiss girlfriend, 24-year-old Orianne Cevey, still continues. He has denied he is going through some sort of mid-life crisis and says simply: "By the time I had met Orianne, my marriage was over. I was unhappy and she made me happy again. And I'm following my heart."

June will visit him in the flat he is renting in Geneva over the holidays, and the rest of the family will go out in shifts. "He can't have us all at one time because it's too small," says his practical mother.

She will no doubt be keeping her counsel as usual. But with her two other children happily married, June Collins must be wondering if her restless younger son will ever find peace.