So I said, ‘Dougie, what if Sarah’s carrying something? Then at least I can shove it shut with my bum?’
‘That’s my girl!’ he laughed.
So that’s what we did. It’s not brilliant, nobody really notices, but it adds a splash of colour to the script.
As it was a six-parter, there were three studio blocks and three pairs of filming days. Pretty standard stuff, although this was squeezed a bit because we had to pay back the rehearsal time from the start of production. You’d be amazed at how much these programmes are decided by balance sheet rather than plot.
It was budget, of course, that kept a limit on the number of retakes, although when you’re working with snow machines, you have to expect the odd hitch. One scene had to be redone when there wasn’t enough snow for the so-called ‘blizzard’. Another was stopped when we were literally deluged in the stuff. These things happen. I remember opening a door at Chase’s house when we were being attacked by the Krynoid – a giant plant monster that won’t stop growing – and the trees that were meant to be blocking my exit were nowhere to be seen. ‘OK, let’s try that again …’
As I said, these things happen, but I was really proud when someone told me that I’d made the fewest mistakes of anyone on the entire shoot! I think they only had to stop once for something that was my fault. I don’t know who was keeping tally of these things or why – maybe it would come out of your fee if you caused too much trouble? That’s a scary thought. Of course, it would have been two stops if we’d noticed at the time how I attacked the Krynoid’s tendril with an axe – hitting it with the blunt side!
Rather unusually, Dougie had arranged a further location shoot to take place during the studio block, but we had to squeeze it into a weekend. So, on Saturday, 6 December, we boarded the bus and headed out for deepest Antarctica – or Reigate, as it actually was. There was a really great atmosphere on the coach – it was extremely jolly, like an old-fashioned charabanc day out. I happened to be sitting next to Tom and as it neared five o’clock, I pointed out this would be the first episode of Doctor Who I’d appeared in that I wouldn’t see broadcast. How would I be able to discuss it afterwards with Dad?
‘Hmm,’ said Tom. ‘That’s a shame, isn’t it?’ The glint in his eye told me he was already hatching something.
‘You know, Elisabeth,’ he said as we drove down one Surrey street, ‘we could probably knock on any of these houses and ask to watch their television.’
I laughed. He was probably right, but I didn’t expect him to try and prove it.
Suddenly he leapt up and staggered down the aisle towards the driver. The next thing I knew, the coach had pulled over and half a dozen of us were marching up to a random front door.
‘Are you sure about this, Tom?’ I giggled.
‘Oh yes,’ he said, his face alive with mischief.
Then he rang the bell and we waited. To this day I will never forget the look on the woman’s face who answered.
‘Hello, my dear,’ said Tom in his most charming voice, ‘I’m the Doctor and this is Sarah. We wondered if we might be able to watch ourselves on your television tonight?’
‘Oh, come in, Doctor!’
And so we did. Me, Tom, John and a couple of others squeezed into a complete stranger’s living room and enjoyed the third episode of The Android Invasion. Absolutely hysterical then and mind-boggling now – wonderful, wonderful Tom!
* * *
We were in Surrey to film the Antarctic scenes in – you guessed it – a quarry. The owners were very excited to have us there. They had all their sand pushed up into realistic snow formations by the time we arrived and had even applied the snow effect over the top.
I don’t think it’s ever explained why we hadn’t originally flown to the South Pole in the TARDIS, but that’s where we end up by the serial’s final scene. I don’t know if the TARDIS was offended we hadn’t used her, but we went inside, closed the door – and the bloody roof fell down! Lucky I’m so much shorter than Tom – I think he caught the brunt of it. It gave me a shock, though. Funnily enough, it was only on Android that the Doctor had said she was due her 300-year service.
The odd time machine malfunction aside I can honestly report that the whole Seeds of Doom experience was a joy from start to finish. It sounds like nostalgia but it’s true. If I genuinely had a TARDIS, I don’t think I would have changed a thing. I really did have a simply marvellous time.
So why did I find myself knocking on Philip’s door and saying, ‘I’m sorry, Philip, but I’ve had enough. It’s time for me to go’?
Chapter Eleven
Eldrad Must Live!
WORK THIS one out. I’d never been happier on Doctor Who – Tom was amazing, the show was reaching audience heights not enjoyed since the 60s; there was a real buzz about it, people were even recognising me on the street …
But it was time to go.
Mentally I’d opened the door back on Dartmoor on The Sontaran Experiment. After that it was only ever a case of when I would walk through it.
Of course, it was exactly because we were doing so well that the decision was so easy. What’s that old comedians’ mantra? Leave ’em wanting more.
The Seeds of Doom had seen the last appearance of UNIT – at least in the 70s. That was a conscious decision. Robert Holmes and Philip Hinchcliffe had been keen to phase out a lot of the older ties – Nick Courtney, John Levene and even Ian Marter had all been given the chop. There was even talk of a TARDIS redesign after it had collapsed on us in Surrey. That only left one remaining link with the past.
In any walk of life you want to jump before you’re pushed. There was no hint from Philip that he was thinking along these lines but I thought it was only a matter of time: He’s the new boss, he wants to stamp his mark. And the moment I broke the news to him my suspicions were confirmed.
Yes, Philip looked surprised, shocked even. Then he said, ‘OK, Lis, if that’s what you want.’
The moment the words left his lips I knew I’d been right. If Philip had begged me to stay, maybe I could have been persuaded. But he hadn’t and that told me everything I needed to know. I’ve actually helped you out by saying it first, haven’t I? I thought. Maybe he didn’t want to be the person who killed Sarah Jane.
Actually, there was talk of killing her off but I didn’t want that – I don’t think it’s fair on kids who’ve grown up with a character to see her die. It’s bad enough seeing the Doctor disappear every few years, but at least he regenerates. Even worse, though, I really didn’t want to see Sarah married off; that would have undone all the ‘strong woman’ messages we’d delivered over the years. I don’t think it would have been respectful to Barry Letts’ legacy, either.
Rushing into a hasty exit during Seeds of Doom would have been equally disrespectful, however.
‘Stay for a little while and we’ll give you a proper send-off,’ Philip suggested.
That sounded fair. And in any case, rumour had it the next serial might even be shot in Italy.
* * *
On 19 March 1976 I signed up for eight more episodes of Doctor Who. Eight more! Then I was off. Tom was the perfect pro. He’s an actor, he knows the score. It’s not like other jobs – people come and go all the time. Even so, ‘I’ll miss you, Elisabeth,’ he boomed, and we had a hug. Then it was down to business as usual.
Actually, that’s not strictly true. The more Tom thought about it, the less happy he got. The next day he said, ‘Christ, why have you got to leave? They’ll get me some bloody girl with a stupid name like Jasemine or Jessonquin, something I can’t pronounce!’ (In the end, despite Tom campaigning for no new companion, ‘because no one could replace Sarah’, they brought in Louise Jameson as Leela.)