Sladen, Elisabeth - Elisabeth Sladen - The Autobiography

I was meant to lie on a sofa and this dog, Digby, had to come over and wake me up by pawing my arm. Fine .

We did the first take and I screamed. Digby’s claws had cut straight into my flesh.

‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘This dog is drawing blood!’

Woodhouse came bustling over. ‘Now, look,’ she tutted, ‘ you wouldn’t find it very easy to balance on three legs, would you?’

‘Bloody hell!’ I said. ‘Can’t you cut its claws?’

Not one of my happier jobs.

Good times were just around the corner, though. Once again the setting was a place that had been kind to me on many an occasion. Yorkshire Television had enjoyed a successful debut year with Thora Hird and Christopher Beeney – In Loving Memory – and I was hired for the opening show of the second season. Thora was great pals with Keith Barron, so we had a mutual friend to laugh about. She was very funny, extremely dry and had us all in stitches when her replacement hip slowed her down.

‘I’ll be along in a minute, chuck,’ she’d say. ‘I’m sitting on steel here!’

Most of my scenes were with Christopher. I was Mary Bennett, his girlfriend, and so we found ourselves in a series of those gentle period courtship scenes. (I did panto with Chris a few years ago, so plenty of time for catching up and remembering Thora.)

It was a nice little job though not exactly lucrative. I was invited to come back for the Christmas Special but my agent said I could make more money elsewhere. I’d never really turned down parts on financial grounds before – it didn’t sit well at all.

There was slightly more money to be had elsewhere on ITV. A lovely director, Bill Bain, had put together a great cast for Name for the Day , part of the Play for Today strand. I played Jo, then we had super Richard O’Callaghan as my husband, Pauline Quirke as an asylum patient, and a gorgeous actor who used to have me in hysterics – Simon Cadell (I was so pleased for him when he became so successful in Hi-de-Hi! ). I made great pals with Pauline – we went out together quite a lot and I even got an invite to her wedding, which was beautiful. We’ve lost touch, which is a shame, but I was so happy working with her.

The play itself upset me quite a bit. It was extremely wearing keeping a straight face among the chaos. Afterwards Bill Bain sent me a letter. He said, ‘It’s very hard playing the only straight character in a humorous play when everyone else is trying to be funny. Well done!’

People like Bill are few and far between. He didn’t have to send that note – he was just one of those people who are so kind and want to help others. And he reminded me so much of a certain someone else from my past – who was once again about to become very important to me.

It all began with a call from my agent.

‘Are you interested in playing Lady Flimnap on TV?’ he asked.

The name rang a bell. ‘Can you tell me anything else about it?’

‘I’m not sure what it is – it hasn’t been written properly yet. All I know is it’s from Gulliver’s Travels .’

‘Oh, I remember,’ I said. ‘She’s not exactly the star of it. Maybe I’ll pass on this one.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Todd. ‘Let me see what else I can dig up on it.’

He rang back later and said, ‘Barry Letts is writing and directing it.’

That’s all I needed to hear.

‘OK, tell them I’m in!’

I would have walked over hot coals to work with Barry again. When I left Who he’d told me, ‘I’m going to write to some people and recommend they see you.’ And he did – I saw a copy of it. He said: ‘I really think you should see this person because I think she could become one of the best actresses of our generation.’ I’m not sure much ever came of it – I did go to see people but perhaps I don’t sell myself well enough. All I know is, he didn’t have to do that. So the opportunity to work with him, however small the role, was not to be missed.

The day after I agreed to do Flimnap, Barry rang me himself and I remembered yet again why he was so special.

‘I’m so pleased you’re going to do it,’ he told me. ‘I’m going to write the part up just for you.’

What a gentleman.

* * *

Barry coming back into my life seemed like an omen and while he beavered away on the script I accepted an invite to another US Who convention. This one hadn’t been organised by Lucy but if it was half as much fun, I’d be in for a treat. Once again Ian Marter was also on the list – as was Barry, something I was really excited about – and there was a ticket for Brian. I couldn’t wait. Fort Lauderdale, here we come!

The event opened at two o’clock on 5 February 1981. At about ten past Ian and I were still standing outside the hall – it was so packed we couldn’t get in. Boy, when Americans decide they like something, they really go for it! I probably hadn’t thought about Who more than once since the LA convention – and that was during the meeting with John Nathan-Turner. I’d forgotten how massive the show had become over there. I never expected that level of attention. And I definitely didn’t expect to have to be physically passed over the audience’s heads just to reach the stage!

We had a brilliant time. It was blissful being with Ian and Barry again without the shadow of work hanging over us, although we weren’t alone. Our hosts had pulled out all the stops and I loved meeting lots of ex- Who alumni for the first time. In audiences’ minds we must seem like one big family but the truth is that I didn’t meet most of the other Doctors and their crew until I started frequenting conventions. Even though we’re strangers, we have such a rich shared history and meeting them is like having your own support network. No one else knows what you go through on that show.

A relief for me was seeing Brian fit in so easily. He and Ian really hit it off – it would have been awful if he’d felt like a spare limb. I think they both had their experiences of being at the periphery of the Who spectrum – even Ian – and so they bonded over that. Most of that bonding, naturally, took place at the bar way into the small hours. On one occasion it also included a drunken paddle in the surf.

Ian, Barry and the rest left after a week, then Brian and I drove down to Key West for another fortnight’s amazing holiday. We’d only been there a few days when we were stopped by a policeman.

‘Is everything all right, officer?’ Brian asked.

‘It will be if Sarah Jane will give me her autograph!’

As I’ve said, it’s amazing where you find Who fans.

* * *

Filming on Gulliver in Lilliput began in June 1981. I was so excited to be working with Barry again, and I was even looking forward to slipping into the old rehearsal/record routine at the Acton Hilton and Television Centre.

Technically it was quite a tricky shoot. Gulliver was so much bigger than me that the actor – Andrew Burt – had to stand at one end of the studio and I was up the other end by the blue screen. Luckily the Beeb still used monitors then so I was able to position myself on Gulliver’s outstretched palm. If he moved, I could react – I don’t know why they ever took the screens away.

We had several weeks of filming but time was extremely tight by the end. It was touch and go whether we’d complete on time and Barry’s nerves passed down to the cast. I remember at the very end of our studio time I had to blow Andrew a kiss but I just didn’t do it. I was so anxious about cocking it up and making the whole production run over schedule that I just skipped it.

Costumes on the whole film were stunning – thanks to Amy Roberts – but mine was out of this world. I was scaffolded inside the narrowest corset they could find. So decadent, it felt like being in an opera – people kept wandering in just to see our underwear! (There was one marvellous scene where I had to tease my husband pulling on my stockings. Still a favourite, I believe, for some fans.) The downside is it took so bloody long to get into that outfit there was never time to take it off again. From early in the morning until ten at night, I was trussed up like a Christmas turkey. For lunch I could just about manage a hard-boiled egg and I still felt as though I’d eaten a whole chicken. When I was cut out at night, my body was covered in striations.