Deep Heat

Encounters with the Famous, the Infamous, and the Unknown

Robin Soans

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2012
• Print ISBN: 9781849430906
• eBook ISBN: 9781849436908
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

There was an owl sat up an oak;The more he heard the less he spoke;The less he spoke, the more he heard;Oh that we were all like that wise old bird.
The verbatim monologues in Deep Heat are drawn from conversations Robin Soans has had or overheard, or are edited versions of interviews he has conducted in the course of research for his plays. Subjects range from people who have held high office to those who have blown them up; from those who live in large country houses to others whose home is two blankets and a pile of leaves in the corner of a disused garage. So much of what is passed on as historical fact is the version of events that those with an ulterior motive choose to project. This book doesn't seek to judge, nor provide solutions; it seeks to redress the balance by giving a fair hearing even to those who may not share the same views as ours. Useful as audition pieces for actors, but equally of interest to the historian and sociologist in all of us. We are after all human, full of contradictions, and we can never inch our way towards greater self-knowledge if we don't see more of the picture than is traditionally the case.

1

PHILIP

THE UNDERSTUDY (1)

Philip (50) in the Green Room of a provincial theatre. Faintly over the tannoy we can hear the evening performance.

PHILIP: Just a sec. (A voice on the tannoy announces ‘Lights up on Act I, lights up on Act I’.) There we go…phoor…curtain up; not that I can relax and drink half a pint of Tequila…nothing like that… let’s just say we’ve gone from red alert to orange.

This is a very nice Green Room. Someone told me once why they’re called a Green Room, but it’s gone clear out of my mind. We’re in Malvern this week; to tell you the truth it’s a very nice town altogether. I’m staying…I’ve got digs in a house halfway up the hill, owned by a man called Tony. I’ve stayed there three times before…spotlessly clean…he does a very nice continental breakfast…and he will do me a boiled egg if I leave a note on the hall table the night before. I said I didn’t want the fried breakfast when I first phoned him up...you know when I just plumped for something off the digs list, and quite soon into the conversation he said, ‘Will you be wanting the fried breakfast?’ and I said, ‘No’ and he said, ‘Actually that’s a relief, cos you feel you have to ask, but to be honest I think the smell of the fat catches in the curtains, and it’s very difficult to get rid of it.’ Other than that he said, ‘No smoking, no pets’ and I said, ‘Fine, that suits me fine.’ My room doesn’t have that sweeping view across to Bredon…actually it’s quite dark…darkish anyway…I’ve got a cedar tree outside actually…you can see the cones…they’re rather exotic…not like an ordinary fir-cone…nothing like.

Right…cup of tea and a biscuit and the Guardian Quick Crossword…I try not to race through the crossword…make it last until the interval. I limit myself to two custard creams a night. I don’t want to get podgy. If I’m being honest, I was contemplating a sandwich, and I went down to the supermarket to get one…and I got in a right state…there’s just so many to choose from, aren’t there…and they’ve got so many ingredients in them these days…takes you half-an-hour to read the label…and they’ve all got these sauces and spreads and what have you…and some of them are reduced calories, and you think ‘Oo, should I be having a reduced calorie?’ And there’s this whole new palaver about hidden salt, and a sandwich from what we gather is one of the prime offenders, but being frank with you I like a bit of salt in a sandwich. I’ve been known to add salt and pepper if they’re to hand, cos I don’t know about you, but a sandwich can be a bit bland…and we are all getting a bit hysterical about this’ll kill you and that’ll kill you. I’m sure a sandwich isn’t going to put the kybosh on me, but then you never know…famous last words. Anyway, then my eye alighted on a prawn in brown bread I think it was…and I thought, ‘Oh a prawn, mmm’, and I looked and it said three pound something or other, and I thought ‘Ridiculous…I’m not spending three pound something or other on a prawn, and a bit of brown bread.’ Then I thought ‘Actually just as well because…’ and I know this isn’t a nice subject but…you know when you go to the seaside, and there’s all this…you know, isn’t there?…and it’s all in pipes going out into the sea…you’ve got actual jobbies floating past on occasions, haven’t you?…and then you think about this prawn inching about on the seabed…I mean what if it’s inching about near the outlet of the pipe?…and that’s not taking into account whether it might be a foreign prawn near one of these industrial plants that’s pouring mercury into the sea, and we haven’t even got to the nuclear waste that’s devastating the ocean floor… what I’m saying is, when you might be called into action at any moment, can you risk eating a prawn at five-thirty in the after- noon? I saw Simon buying a prawn sandwich, and to be honest I thought ‘Rather you than me’, and in the end I just left the shop without anything, came back here, went through the lines just to make sure they’re solid, and thought, ‘Better safe than sorry… I’ll have a cup of tea and a biscuit at curtain up.’ And actually I’ve got half a carrot salad in the fridge at Tony’s, so I can always plug a gap if I’m peckish when I get home.

One across…British sculptor…eight letters. Well I know that, at least I think I do…just check it with one down…culinary or medicinal plant…four letters…well that’s going to be herb, and the H gives me Hepworth, which is the sculptor. So that’s herb and Hepworth. Two down flower of garden and field…five letters beginning with P. Now there, you see, he’s being sneaky cos you think poppy, but then it could equally be pansy…there is a field pansy, a wild pansy…I have to admit that with the field bit it’s more likely to be poppy, but I’ll leave it til I’ve got the third letter. Talking of pansies…now this is another example of where I think there’s just too much choice nowadays. I’ve got two small raised beds either side of my front door at home in Brockley…and I like a bit of colour as I go in and out, and actually it’s cheery for other people when they knock on the door or deliver a pizza flyer or come to read the metre or whatever it is they’re doing…and I have geraniums and ageratum in the summer, and winter pansies and polyanthus in the winter, and it never seemed a problem to me…I just went down to the local garden centre, and bought a box or two of pansies, and they were either yellow, red or blue, and one year I’d have one colour and another year another and so on…but now it’s almost impossible…there’s so many different varieties, and splodges of this colour, and splodges of that, and pastel shades, and Victorian shades, that was one, and miniatures, and multi-colours, and some which call themselves violas…well I picked up one box and thought ‘Oh no’ and put it down again, and I did this for about twenty minutes by which time I was in such a mither I thought ‘Sod it, I’ll just have the polyanthus then.’ Funnily enough the postman remarked…he always says he enjoys the splash of colour outside my door, first thing he said when I changed the summer bedding to winter bedding, he said, ‘Oh no pansies this year.’

Oh hang on…see if he gets a good laugh…this is the line about the fart…it usually gets a good laugh…(Laughter over the tannoy.)…there…not bad. I got a good laugh on that in the understudy run which we did in Richmond in week two. There weren’t many there, but a few friends turned up, and I got quite a response on that line. Not that I do it anything like Simon… that’s who I’m understudying…Simon Nicholls…you all know him…he plays that vicar detective on the telly…there’s always a crowd at the stage door, and of course some of them can’t tell fact from fiction and ask him for advice about spiritual problems, or if they’ve got a long-term injury ask him to bless their leg or something. No, there’s no way I can copy him exactly, and anyway I want to bring my own personality to the part. I keep the moves the same…I wouldn’t want to throw the other actors, but you’ve got to bring a bit of yourself on stage, haven’t you?

Eight across…Indian currency…five letters beginning with R…yes, well that’s going to be rupee…and there you see…that gives you a P third in two down…P blank P…so it’s poppy, thought it was, but I don’t like to fill it in til I’m sure.

I take my understudy role very seriously as you can tell, and it is a responsible position. I know I don’t get the glory, but they also serve who only stand and wait, and you never know when your hour will come, do you, and it’s no good being thrust into the limelight half-cock, if you see what I mean. I sometimes think people don’t realise the hard work that goes on under the surface. No one goes on ‘krill watch’ do they? ‘Come on everyone, let’s pack up a picnic and go and watch some krill.’ But the truth is there wouldn’t be any whales if there wasn’t krill for them to feed on, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t think krill get the credit they deserve. Whether the audience realises it or not, the understudy is an insurance policy to make sure they get their evening’s entertainment. Children at the circus can only really enjoy the trapeze artists, cos they know there’s a safety net. You couldn’t have some glitter-clad nymphette plummeting to her death every five minutes could you…and that’s what I am…a safety net…and if anything happens to Simon…you know… laryngitis can attack the greatest…or if in mid-performance he gets a peanut stuck in his windpipe, or he trips over a stage brace and concusses himself on the sideboard…there I am to seam-lessly take up the mantle, and carry the audience safely through to Curtain Down.

Then again, this is only part of my work. I am an actor in my own right. I’ve been head juror on Crown Court, I was the man across the street in One Foot in the Grave…I got a good laugh on that. I had my head chopped off in a thing about The Plantagenets…I was a delivery man in Upstairs Downstairs. I nearly hit the jackpot last year…I got down to the last two for that Specsavers advert where the man and his wife sit down to eat a cheese sandwich…there we are…sandwiches again…it seems to be a recurrent theme this evening doesn’t it?...and actually they sit down on a roller coaster thing and go whizzing about all over the place…funnily enough a friend of mine got that part and I thought he did it very well, so I wasn’t that upset about it.

There’s something not quite right…listen…that’s not Simon and Gillian…listen…

He turns up the tannoy. The house manager’s voice.

H.M.: Ladies and Gentlemen, I regret to inform you that our leading actor Mr Nicholls has suddenly been taken unwell; nothing too serious, just something he’s eaten I’m afraid; but never fear, we have measures in place for just such a contingency, and the performance will continue just as soon as the understudy is ready, and we hope that you will continue to enjoy your evening.

The stage manager’s voice over the tannoy.

S.M.: Mr Roper to your dressing room immediately please. Mr Roper to your dressing room immediately.

PHILIP: (Sits open-mouthed for a few seconds.) Oh my God…it’s me…it’s my moment. Steady, Philip, steady…you know it…all those hours pacing the bedroom carpet; you know the lines as well as your own name or that an orange is an orange…say it to yourself, ‘An orange is an orange. I know the lines. Go on say it.’ ‘An orange is an orange, I know the lines.’ There. ‘And thank your lucky stars you didn’t have that prawn sandwich.’

2

PHYLLIS

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE TOWPATH

Phyllis (68) is sitting on a seat by the towpath of the canal in Nottingham. Night. She has two carrier bags.

PHYLLIS: Oooooo…oooooo…I’m being spooky now...can you tell? Ooooooo. I’m a bit pissed as well, I’m not denying it, a bit ratarsed. I love it like this…this fine mist…all the streetlamps and that… and that water look…it’s like it’s been polished and buffed. I were nearly in it earlier. About an hour ago. I was in a mess with mi bags, and it threw me off kilter. I couldn’t get both handles at once, and I went to grab the second handle, and lost mi footing. I thought ‘Here we go again.’ I were in last year. A fisherman pulled me out, and as he pulled me out mi knickers got pulled over mi head. I couldn’t see where I was, mi head was in mi knickers. It was very nice of him to pull me out though cos I can’t swim. Anyway I was heading back in tonight cos mi leg wasn’t working when I went to grab mi bag, and this hand, it came out of nowhere and pulled me back, and there was this young man standing there, and he asked me if I was alright, and I said ‘Fine’ and he said ‘Can I walk you home?’ and I said ‘Could you walk me to the next bridge?’ and he said in a very educated voice ‘Of course I’ll walk you to the next bridge’ cos he thought that was where I lived and I couldn’t tell him I didn’t live anywhere really, could I?

He set off much too fast. I said, ‘What’s yer name?’ and he said, ‘Robin.’ And I said, ‘Is that Robin…Rob…Robbie or Sir?’ And he said, ‘Anything you like except Sir’ and I said ‘Alright Robin, Rob, or Robbie, I’m very pleased to meet you but you’re walking at scout’s pace, aren’t yer?’ And he said, ‘What?’ And I said, ‘One, two, three, four…’ …and I was trying to imitate him, and I almost fell in again cos mi leg wasn’t working again, and he pulled me back on to the path, and asked if I was alright, and I said ‘It’s no good if you walk at scout’s pace’ and he said ‘Sorry, I’ll walk a bit slower’ and I said ‘You’re educated aren’t you Robin, Rob or Robbie?’ and he said ‘Yes’ and I said, ‘I can tell, but you mustn’t walk so fast’ and he said ‘Right.’

We got to the next bridge and he said ‘Is this it?’ And I said, ‘No, it’s the next one’ and then I said ‘I’ve been drinking’ and he laughed and I said ‘Why are you laughing?’ and he said ‘What have you been drinking?’ and I laughed and said ‘What haven’t I been drinking? I’ve had lager, I’ve had whiskey, I’ve had white wine, I’ve had vodka, but that’s not the reason I’m unsteady on mi pins…no that was this fella as hit me…well he hit me on the chin…I didn’t mind that cos I could see it coming…it was fair and square, do you know what I mean…but then he kicked me on the leg, and I thought that was sneaky…you couldn’t see it coming down there, and it hurts. Well mi chin hurts…but I’m not inconvenienced by that…whereas the leg is an inconvenience, especially when you’re near the edge and your bags are giving you trouble…’

You see that line…I must tell you this…that line…well do you know I was sitting here by the canal one night…not on this seat, the next one down, and I’d only had three glasses of white wine and this girl walked past, and I said to her, ‘What’s that hill?’ And she said ‘What hill?’ And I said, ‘That hill.’ I said, ‘I’ve lived by the canal all my life, and that’s never been there before.’ And do you know what it was? It was a factory, and they’d painted the roof green, and I thought it were a hill. I did feel a fool. But I don’t know…if you half shut your eyes even now…in the mist…

Robin, Rob or Robbie and I got to the next bridge, and he said ‘Is it this one?’ and I said, ‘No, it’s the next one.’

I have…I’ve lived by the canal all my life. I lived with my grandma and I used to say to her could I go and swim in the canal, and she would say ‘No, it’s dangerous’ and I would say ‘It’s alright…I’ll take my water-wings’ and I would jump in. We loved the water…there were four of us girls, and we loved the water. None of us could swim, but we all had water-wings. And do you know what there was at the bottom of Grandma’s garden? There was a barrel factory. And we would borrow the barrels and fill them with water, and you’ll never guess what we put in next… you know Daz…we put in whole packets of Daz…and then we’d get the step ladder out the house, the step ladder that were used for papering and that, and we’d climb the ladder, and jump into the barrels, and the Daz would make that much froth it would shoot up round us in great plumes like ostrich feathers in the wind. I can’t tell you how we laughed…and then we’d take the barrels back to the factory. Next to the factory were the mine… it were still there then…it’s gone now…a coal-mine just down there, and when the men came up to the surface, do you know what we did…they’d take their clothes off and we’d cover them all over with the red mud that came off the banks of the canal, and then they’d dive in, and as the mud came off, all the coal dust came off as well, and they’d come out shining and clean.

We got to the fourth bridge and I said to Robin, Rob or Robbie ‘This is my bridge now, thank you very much’ and then I said ‘Do you know something?’ and he said ‘What?’ and I said ‘You’re a real gentleman. Do you know how I know that?’ And he said ‘How?’ And I said ‘Cos as we’ve walked along, you’ve steered me round all the puddles, and my shoes are all dry…and you’ve walked through all the puddles, and your shoes are all wet. I live just here…I’ll be fine now…bless you Robin, Rob or Robbie, and I mean that. Night.’

I went a few yards and tucked myself into a nook of the bridge, tried to hold mi breath…waited there a minute and came back. I could just see him…Robin, Rob or Robbie…I didn’t want to disappoint him…could just see him, the back of him…striding back up the towpath…double scout’s pace if you ask me…

3

EDWINA

I was researching Life After Scandal when I met Edwina Currie. Matthew Parris had already told me that you couldn’t meet her without being impressed by her sharp intellect and insight. I phoned her up and she said, ‘Alright, I’ll meet you at the Atrium next Tuesday at twelve o’clock…it’s opposite the Houses of Parliament. I’m on air at two o’clock but that should give us two hours. I’ll talk about salmonella, but I’m not going to talk about John Major. I’ll leave you to do the booking.’

The Atrium has something of a Spanish holiday resort about it…a lot of pot plants, light filtering down through a glass roof…and we sat on a raised balcony above the main body of the restaurant, which would have been a swimming pool if it was a hotel. I was there in plenty of time, with my red book…I use large red A4 size notebooks and rapid-flow pens…very rapid flow when you have someone as articulate as Edwina Currie to interview…and a glass of fizzy water. I was the only person in the restaurant.

Edwina arrived exactly on time; and as it turned out talked only about John Major. I was impressed by her…and I thought but for circumstance she would and should have played a more significant role in public life. She would be much better employed sorting out social problems in inner cities than appearing on Celebrity Wife ...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Half-Title Page
• Copyright
• Title Page
• Contents
• INTRODUCTION
• 1 | PHILIP
• 2 | PHYLLIS
• 3 | EDWINA CURRIE
• 4 | JONATHAN AITKEN
• 5 | HALA JABER
• 6 | VITYA
• 7 | YA’AKOV
• 8 | MUHAMAD
• 9 | RENA
• 10 | SHARON
• 11 | UDAY
• 12 | SIR GERALD
• 13 | THE STEWARDS OF SANDOWN PARK
• 14 | CATHERINE
• 15 | NORMAN TEBBIT
• 16 | MO MOWLAM
• 17 | PAT MAGEE
• 18 | MARTIN SNODDEN
• 19 | ALI BOYRAZ
• 20 | MARGARET COOK
• 21 | PAUL
• 22 | CONRAD
• 23 | LEONIDAS
• 24 | CHLOE
• 25 | CAROLINE
• 26 | MELISSA
• 27 | PHILIP