Jeremy Vine: ‘My wife wouldn’t marry me unless I was a member of the National Trust, which is the most middle class thing that’s ever happened to me’
Lotte Brundle talks to Jeremy Vine about approaching 40 years at the BBC, his new book and coping with the death of his former colleague Ann Widdecombe.
Jeremy Vine is on his bike. ‘Hold on, I am cycling past a building site,’ he says, when he picks up my call. I check that he’s not cycling his penny-farthing, which resulted in a recent nasty injury. Just a regular bike for him today, he confirms. ‘Cycling is riddled with those sort of problems, isn’t it?’ I say empathetically.
‘I never like the words "riddled" or "problems" connected with cycling,' he replies. 'Cycling's mainly full of joy and solutions. Car driving is riddled with problems. Car driving has destroyed our cities and our countryside in many ways, but that’s a conversation for another day.’
Jeremy takes a flying leap to re-mount his iconic penny-farthing.
Bicycles aside, he has been enthusiastically giving me his recommendations for Appledore, a historical fishing and shipbuilding village in North Devon. These include the Flame Factory, a pizzeria and burger house; The Crowbar, a pub and restaurant; and Jack Sprats, a bistro. ‘I love it,’ he gushes. He is a patron of the town’s book festival, which will be running from September 18-27, and also holidays there each summer.
It is also near where his new murder mystery book is set. The second in a series, Turn the Gap follows the Sidmouth-based murder-solving local radio broadcaster Edward Tennis, who’s ‘maybe past the peak of his career and is worried about the next generation.’
Jeremy pauses.
‘Not that that’s me, you understand?’
It is his listeners on BBC Radio 2 that keep him grounded. ‘I used to think I was going to tell them the news, and now I realise they tell me.’ His television program on Channel 5 also keeps him busy. ‘I do them every day. I do two hours of TV and two hours of radio and I have never been more professionally satisfied than I am now, at the age of 61.’
'I’ve had a couple of stalkers, and that’s no more than any other broadcaster'
Before joining the BBC, Jeremy Vine worked at the Coventry Evening Telegraph. Here he is photographed for a story about how his car kept getting stolen.
Ann Widdecombe was a regular guest on his show until her death on July 8. ‘I was very upset. She really almost felt like a friend,’ Jeremy says ‘It was such a powerful connection between me and Ann, Ann and the audience and the audience and me. Sort of a beautiful triangle. And it's so tragic that we’ve only really seen it because of this awful thing.’ He agrees that people have parasocial relationships with famous personalities, particularly radio presenters.
‘I’ve had a couple of stalkers, and that’s no more than any other broadcaster. I’d say I’ve probably had three. I mean, stalking is the industrial disease of broadcasting, it unfortunately comes with the territory,’ he says. Alex Belfield, who stalked Jeremy, was recalled to prison in February this year for breaching his licence conditions.
'I could never sell my penny farthing'
‘It creates this wonderful illusion, particularly radio, that you’re having a personal conversation. But if you create that connection, I suppose the change in the modern world is that the person on the other end, if they have bad intentions as with Ann Widdecombe, they are able to come back.’ Does he regret becoming a well-known personality then? ‘I don’t regret it. I love having my audience. It’s the best thing in the world to do the job I do.’
Jeremy has worked at the BBC now for 39 years. ‘When I arrived I just thought everyone looked like I do now, 60-year-old blokes. Now, though, I look around and I’m so proud to work in New Broadcasting House — somewhere so many different people are doing different things.’
He has two children, aged 19 and 21, with wife Rachel Schofield, who is also a journalist. It is her he credits with his love of nature. ‘Actually, she said she wouldn’t marry me unless I was a member of the National Trust, which is the most middle class thing that’s ever happened to me.’ He is still a member. He lives in London, near the Thames, and although he sometimes dreams of moving to Devon, I think he’s far too enamoured with his life in the London media circus.
Your aesthetic hero
Oscar Wilde. He was so funny. He would have been massively famous now if he lived today, but the fame would have ruined him.
A possession you would never sell
I could never sell my penny-farthing. I bought it for £1,200 from Roger in Stockport, and ever since I bought it, for some reason, a lot of people have gotten very excited about riding penny-farthings. Roger now has a three- or four-years-long waiting list. So I know if I ever sold it, I would probably never manage to get another one.
An exhibition that has really impressed you
The Marilyn Monroe exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery. I just think it really gave you an insight into her life. She was quite fragile, and all the issues that we see with people who became famous in the early days were not ready for what fame did. Elvis being the other classic example.
There was one photo where she was posed on this sort of velvet curtain, and she was topless. She'd done it for $40 for a calendar, and she forgot all about it. And then when she got her first movie, somebody found it and said, ‘Oh, how can this woman be in the movies when she's a topless model?’ And she came out fighting and said, ‘I had to do that because I had nothing to eat.’ I was so impressed with her. You know, she had some agency.
A book you’ve found inspiring
The Last Enemy by Richard Hillary. It changed my life. He was a Spitfire pilot whose plane blew up. He fell into the sea and his face had been blown off. He was then repaired by an amazing cosmetic surgeon in East Grinstead called Archibald McIndoe. I begged the publishers to read it for Audible. I didn’t really want to be paid or anything, so I gave the fee to RAF charities and they let me read it.
A hotel you could go back and back to
The Hotel Du Vin in Glasgow, because when I used to present Eggheads I always stayed there, and it was so lovely.
The last thing of note that you bought for yourself
Sadly, I had to buy a new smartwatch, because I lost mine.
The music that you work to
As I am writing my books I have to concentrate, so I will listen to the Calm Music playlist on Spotify.
The items you collect
My daughters’ drawings.
What you’d take with you to a desert island
It’s got to be a radio, hasn’t it? One on which I could listen to all my favourite DJs from the past 50 years.
Your favourite painting
I used to go to the Kelvingrove Museum in Glasgow on my days off from Eggheads and I always went to see the same painting, which is the Salvador Dalí painting, Christ of Saint John of the Cross. And I'm so inspired by how the hell he had done this painting and what it's all about that I then wrote a novel about it called The Diver and the Lover.
Christ of Saint John of the Cross by Salvador Dalí.
The last podcast you listened to
I was just listening to one about Fred and Rose West, actually. I am quite a true crime person.
The thing that gets you up in the morning
Writing 400 words of my next book.
The person that would play you in a film of your life
Jason Isaacs from The White Lotus.
The most memorable meal you’ve ever eaten
I went to Nairobi on the job, as a correspondent in Africa, and I went to a place that served amazing steak and meat. It was a once in your lifetime thing.
The best present you’ve ever received
My daughter gave me a cartoon, which I think was in The Times, that had me in it. Also my mum is 87, so anything she gets me, I always treasure.
