‘Well, is the dog going to answer?’ I asked.
‘Oh,’ Leeson said, ‘he can, if you like.’
I felt such a fool. Why on earth hadn’t anyone told me that John adds his parts afterwards? How was I meant to know I had to leave a gap? Little things like that can really put a stick in your spokes. How to make the star of the show feel like the new girl in one easy session …
Forget Nathan-Turner, forget Black, forget Leeson – most of our woes originated from a single robotic sources, though.
K-9.
When I’d signed up for the show it had been such a rush, especially as I was head down in Gulliver world at the time. Possibly working with Barry gave me an unnaturally positive outlook towards everything BBC. I really should have paid greater attention. When I agreed to have a dog as a co-star – or be the co-star to a dog, as some people said! – I had no idea how unmalleable he would be. Honestly, worse than a Dalek! At least you can talk to the person inside a Dalek and get them to try to co-operate. At one point during our ritual scene, K-9 had to be attached to a fishing wire and literally dragged through the mud to save the day.
Expecting this box on wheels to negotiate a winter terrain was one thing but I thought any difficulty would iron itself out when we reached the studio. In fact it just created new problems. If you watch the show you can hear my boots clanging around on the floor. That’s because carpets were vetoed – the bloody dog needed smooth, hard ground before he would budge! That meant doorways were an issue because, of course, they have a runner across them. Watching this so-called futuristic creation struggle to move from the hallway to the lounge was a joke, especially when it was trundling along so slowly.
At one point I had to flee from a room. I did a take, then John Black said, ‘Lis, you need to hold the door open for K-9.’
‘I’m going to save the universe but first I want to stop and open a door for a dog?’ I asked.
It made no sense at all – it’s amazing how that thing saves anyone.
The other problem you have with the dog is that obviously he’s only about a foot tall. So if he’s talking and you want more than your ankles in shot, you have to find an excuse to bend down. When you’re trying to discover a way to save a sacrifice’s life, this can be a slight inconvenience.
Our time in the Cotswolds ended with a photoshoot with me flanked by K-9 – and the giant Alsatian that played Commander Pollock’s dog. Forget my old neighbour’s Rex, I’d been scared of a Dulux dog! At least this time around there was no Barbara Woodhouse to scold me …
Nathan-Turner’s master plan had been to shoot K-9 and Company during Doctor Who’s summer break. That didn’t work with my Gulliver schedule so it was put back. So a lot of the problems could apparently be traced back to me … Great.
With the Who team tied up we were despatched to Birmingham’s Pebble Mill to record there. If I’d felt sidelined on location, I was positively isolated now. Normally my closest allies on a shoot are the costume and makeup girls. Not this time. First chance they got, they disappeared to their rooms to have a Southern Comfort. I think they’d had problems in the past with London teams thinking they were superior. Whatever the reason, it just added to my mounting worry.
With the costume people ignoring me I found a new place to hide in the studio. John Leeson had the tiniest space with a curtain cutting it off from the melee. Every chance I got, I popped over.
‘All right, John?’
‘Oh, Lis, do come in!’
I was surprised by another friendly face while we were there. One afternoon I was waiting to go on when I got a tap on one shoulder and a familiar voice said, ‘How’s my favourite assistant?’
It was Chris Barry.
Favourite? I thought. I wish I’d known that when I was working with you!
He was recording in another studio, so we caught up as often as possible to mull over old times or catch up on gossip about mutual acquaintances.
It’s probably quite clear by now that I was no fan of the finished show, but there were positives. I really liked the way the whole thing centred round Aunt Lavinia – who, of course, I had impersonated to gain access to UNIT back in The Time Warrior. So that was nice. The line that came after I unpacked K-9 gave even better continuity.
‘Oh, you didn’t forget!’
It meant nothing to me at the time but I now know this was a direct reference to my closing conversation with the Doctor back in The Hand of Fear.
Hiccoughs and hitches besieged the show right up to broadcast. It had been scheduled to go out on 23 December 1981 to the highest possible audience. Two weeks earlier it was mysteriously bumped back to 28 December – traditionally a veritable viewing wasteland. It didn’t stop there. On the evening of 28 December, a failing of the Winter Hill transmitter meant the entire northwest of England was without coverage. In the event, the 8.4 million viewers scored was an incredible achievement. Despite my misgivings, it augured extremely well for a future series.
JNT rang me a few weeks later with the news. There had been a change of faces at the top of the Beeb – the new suits wanted to distance themselves from Who. Despite the spectacular viewing figures, the answer was therefore negative: we would not be getting a series.
It was a body blow, if I’m honest. I don’t think I turned in the best performance but in the face of the problems, we did all right. The series would only have got better but the decision had been made.
So that was that, I thought. I’d brought Sarah back and it hadn’t worked. Back to the mothballs for her …
On the plus side: at least I’d never have to set eyes on that bloody dog again!
Chapter Fourteen
Think Of The Fans
THE FIRST time I walked away from Doctor Who it was with a spring in my step. Now I was dragging my heels. I hadn’t had the best time on K-9 and Company. On the other hand, if the show had gone to series we could have achieved some spectacular things, I was sure of it. Despite my own misgivings, I could tell from my fan mail that K-9 was a massive hit with kids. No one could explain why we weren’t being commissioned for more.
I’m not one to dwell. The only way to cope with disappointment is to put your head down and work – but where? The answer, I realised, was Bristol. Brian had been there quite a lot recently under the direction of Little Theatre boss David Neilson. ‘Come down,’ he enthused. ‘You won’t be disappointed.’
If David’s name seems familiar, you’ll probably recognise him as Roy Cropper from Coronation Street. Roy’s one of the comedy staples in Corrie and David’s hysterical in real life – but in a completely different way to Roy. There’s none of the pushover about him. He’s utterly in control; a really, really great director and a terrific actor.
As well as being with Brian, the big draw for me in Bristol was the chance to do Twelfth Night again. That was the play in which we’d met. What a perfect play in which to share the stage again?
Then Brian’s agent rang and said, ‘You’ve got a part in a TV series’, and all that romanticism flew out the window.
‘You’ve got to take the telly – it’s four times the money and half the work,’ I conceded.
So that was the end of our little commemoration.
Brian had been slated to play Feste while I was offered Olivia or Viola. I have always wanted to play Viola. If I’ve got any dreams in acting, that would be one. Then I looked at the rest of the cast. If I was being honest, there was another girl in the company who was born to play her. The idea of her playing Olivia was laughable, really, whereas I could get away with either. So that was the end of another dream. I took one for the team and donned my Olivia frock. Thirty years later my chance of playing Viola has probably sailed.