And I really think he did. Jon loved his gadgets and all the physical stuff so this story was loaded with them. I just wished I didn’t have to ‘enjoy’ them as well! But when Bagpuss jumps into a helicopter, all his friends jump in too …
Live and Let Die had been the big Bond movie of the previous year, full of speedboat, car and all other sorts of chases. That was definitely an influence on Terry and Barry when they came to shaping Robert Sloman’s script. In one episode there’s hardly any dialogue at all. Jon is either on the water, in the air or pounding the tarmac in an incredible pursuit sequence.
Part of the chase had Jon haring across a lake in a speedboat. By the time he got out, he looked like the proverbial drowned rat. He was happy to go on but Barry said his hair needed attention. It had been completely matted by a combination of wind and water. So, there he sat, rollers in his hair, when a PR person appeared and said a local journalist had arrived early for her interview.
‘Fine,’ said Jon. ‘Bring her over.’
People who say Jon was vain really didn’t get it, did they? And trust me, since his death I’ve heard quite a few whispers to that effect. The truth is, the vanity was all for the programme: he wanted his Doctor to look a certain way and he was very protective of that. But personal vanity? Yes, he liked to look good, but only if he was on show. Behind the scenes, or off duty, he was as laid-back as anyone. It was all about the show. Why else would he give an interview in full rollers and back corset?
And remember, Jon was always the first one to make a joke about his nose – or his lisp. He had us all in stitches trying to get through the line, ‘Don’t struggle with the spiders, Sarah!’ In fact, I remember him moaning back on my very first day, ‘Christ, with my S’s, why did they give me someone called Sarah Jane Smith?’ So, there was no ego in that respect.
Even so, Jon could be proprietorial at times. On one occasion Nick Courtney, on location with us, offered to drive me in Bessie back along this muddy track to the catering truck.
Jon literally put his arm across me and said, ‘Darling, I wouldn’t advise going with the Brig.’
So I didn’t. A minute later, Nick jumped behind the wheel and, honest to God, within moments he was nearly in the ditch. Thank you, Jon!
Bessie wasn’t the only old favourite recalled for Jon’s farewell. Barry also found a way to include the Whomobile in the chase sequence – in its new, improved flying mode. I had to jump in as well, which was fine. Not so fine, however, was driving around in it beforehand. We were being made up outside the BBC, somewhere near Kingston. Then Jon said, ‘Come on, I’ll drive us to location.’
So he did – right through Kingston High Street!
In rush hour!
If you’ve seen the car, you’ll know from the outside it looks like a silver manta ray. On the inside, however, it feels like being in a goldfish bowl on wheels. Everywhere we went people were staring and Jon was waving back. Then we hit the high street and all hell broke loose. Cars were weaving all over the place, so Jon had to take evasive action a couple of times. We couldn’t have had more close calls if he’d fitted a giant magnet on the front. It was as if every road user was doing a double-take at the same time. My heart was in my mouth because the Whomobile didn’t seem to be made of the sturdiest stuff.
And then, inevitably, there were sirens.
‘I think they’re for us, Jon.’
‘I think you’re right.’
A policeman came over, so Jon wound down the window.
‘Hello, officer, how can I be of assistance?’
‘Hello, Doctor,’ the policeman said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be talking to a Time Lord. ‘I’m afraid you can’t drive this through Kingston High Street.’
‘But it’s got a registration plate.’
‘That may be so, but in my view it’s a hazard.’
In my view it was as well, but I never mentioned it.
Boats and cars were only half the story. The Whomobile took to the skies at some point to chase the villain’s gyro copter so there was a BBC chopper on standby to do the filming. During one lunch hour at Membury Airfield Jon couldn’t resist suggesting, ‘Come on Lissie, let’s go for a ride.’ I didn’t have time to say no; he just pulled me over to where the pilot was polishing it. Bearing in mind my Toronto flight, you’ll understand I really wasn’t happy, but Jon was so excited and I climbed in.
Whoooosh! It was like going up in a rocket. Suddenly the ground had vanished – and so had my stomach for flying.
‘Isn’t this wonderful!’ Jon beamed.
He was lucky I didn’t throw up on him there and then.
‘That’s the last time I go up in one of these things!’ Famous last words …
Climbing out, the pilot warned us to mind the rotors which were still spinning. He didn’t have to tell me twice – I was almost doubled up clutching my stomach anyway so I was safe. But accidents do happen.
The pilot of the gyro copter wasn’t so lucky. His blades were much lower than the bigger chopper’s and he got caught. He was lucky not to lose his head. As it was, the blood poured out like water from a geyser. He screamed the place down and everyone ran out to him, of course. By the time I got there I noticed our makeup girl, Deanne Turner, crouching next to him.
‘Oh, Deanne, aren’t you lovely, looking after him,’ I said.
She stood up and leant into my ear.
‘I’m actually matching his blood against all my fake colours,’ she confessed.
God, I thought, that’s TV for you.
I remembered that event years later. We were filming a scene in The Sarah Jane Adventures in a wood and I’d decided not to risk running down this narrow pathway in the dark. With branches everywhere it seemed foolish to take the risk. So Katherine, my amazing stand-in, was all kitted out in my coat, boots and wig – which is a thoroughly disconcerting image to look at, I must tell you – and ready to go.
On cue she shot off into the wood, twice as fast as I could have gone. A yard from the end, she stumbled and fell arse over head. Watching from the sidelines were me, Stuart our costume designer, and Emma on makeup. As soon as Katherine went down we all leapt up together, hands in mouths like the three brass monkeys.
‘Katie!’ I screamed.
‘Jacket!’ cried Stuart.
‘Wig!’ went Emma.
It just shows you …
* * *
We packed a lot into that week. Tidmarsh Manor served as a monastery, Mortimer railway station was where I joined the action answering Mike Yates’ call, while Le Marchant barracks in Devizes and the River Severn also provided various location opportunities. Before we headed back to the Acton Hilton as normal, Jon announced a little surprise. By way of a thank you to everyone on the team and to give his further career a leg-up, he was throwing a drinks party at his house in Castelnau, near Barnes. I’d never been before and I was expecting it to be grand but this place was something else, absolutely stunning. I don’t know how much of it was down to Jon or whether his wife, Ingeborg, was responsible, but it really was beautiful. I know who the cook in the family was, though, and Ingeborg put on an impressive spread. Jon was on drinks duty that night and he could have done with one or two himself because he seemed on edge. As soon as I stepped in, he fell on me like a long-lost brother and pressed a glass into my hand. ‘There you go, Lissie, enjoy that.’ God, it was the strongest vodka and tonic I have ever tasted in my life. The next day at North Acton he said, ‘Lissie, were you all right last night? You were awfully relaxed.’
‘Bloody hell, Jon, after that drink I wasn’t relaxed – I was comatose!’
It really was a nice touch to have Barry directing Jon’s final episode. They had a natural understanding and this time, more than ever, Barry was inclined to humour more of his star’s script suggestions. To be honest, though, there wasn’t much Jon could add to a story heavily weighted in his favour. Venusian aikido, plenty of running, lots of saving-the-day action; they’d even brought back the Brig and his UNIT team for a final hurrah. Barry wanted all Jon’s friends to be around him when the moment to say goodbye came.