I vividly remember when I met Philippa that her big, involved family was hugely attractive. My human family now is what it's all about. There's something wonderful about the characters of animals, and I now have a family of them around me. At my next school, I was put in charge of the school menagerie – feeding, letting out, shutting up the animals – including the sheep. I probably threw myself into plays and making people laugh just to have a break from being hit. School was a weekly agony to be borne, cemented by my chronic bedwetting. Life there seemed to be all about waiting for some adult or classmate to be beastly or thwack you. He was a real force and we all loved him.Ībout a year after my father's death, I was packed off to boarding school.
DOES MR. BEAN HAVE A DAUGHTER IN REAL LIFE FULL
Very exciting and glamorous, he'd always make me feel amazing and full of confidence like I'd picked the right thing to do in life. Her brother was the actor Jeremy Brett, who became famous for playing Sherlock Holmes. Mum worked as a secretary for Orson Welles, for what sounded like a very miserable year. I have a very funny picture of them dressed as leaves popping out from behind some wobbly looking staging. Dad's parents were music hall entertainers – at one point in a troupe called the Brownies. But he could be silly too – he and his colleagues would finish a show in the evening and then go and do a couple of hours' cabaret to wind down.īoth parents had roots in the theatre. Unlike my mother, who was unashamedly delighted when I decided to become an actor, I always feel that my father, had he lived longer, might have been a touch disapproving of some of my career – I think he might have tutted a bit at Men Behaving Badly. I remember him being quite a strong, silent type – quite serious. He was an actor and away from home a bit.
My sister is older than me – I was a typically infuriating little brother who nicked her toys and was probably a right pain.Īlthough Dad died of cancer when I was eight, he is very much there in my childhood memories. Later on, Wimbledon Common was my stamping ground – riding my bike, climbing trees – all sorts of hearty boy stuff. As a child, I remember being parked outside pubs with a bottle of pop and a packet of crisps and left to wait for the grownups. Why on earth we went to a park when we lived so near the common is a mystery, but it had formal gardens and lawns – perhaps it was that very difference that took my parents there. My earliest memory is a picnic in the park near our house, which was next to Wimbledon Common.
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