Elisabeth Sladen: The Autobiography

If Sarah was here, there was nothing to worry about. Later that afternoon she would be calling me Doctor. The little eight-year-old in my head (who was frankly reeling at the fact that I was in that room at all) was soothed, and of course thrilled, that the Doctor’s one true assistant was there to look out for him.

Of course later I would get to know Lis and realise she was just as nervous as me that day, but in that moment she represented all that made me want the job in the first place. It was her voice that transported me. In one line she catapulted me back to Saturday tea times, the little catch in her voice as she confronted the latest intergalactic horror. The jeopardy was always palpable; everything seemed so real, almost raw. Everything Sarah did was alive and true. Lis’s absolute conviction in playing that role brought the worlds of Doctor Who to vivid, irrefutable life. There was no danger that a cheap set or a less than convincing rubber mask would puncture the magic when Lis was there, believing in everything around her with such passionate certitude.

And here she was, just the same: the same conviction, the same passion for it. She was utterly consummate. And of course, she looked the same. Everybody would say it, but Elisabeth Sladen never seemed to age, either in looks or spirit. As an actor you’re not supposed to get star-struck; it isn’t the done thing to be in awe of someone you are working with. It wouldn’t be very helpful if you couldn’t look your co-star in the eye when you’re supposed to be playing their boss, or their lover. It’s a professional necessity that you can at least pretend to be easy in the company of your colleagues. I would have to admit to a handful of instances where such professionalism has failed me though, and that afternoon, when I finally met Lis, was one of them.

Reading through the script was easy. I was doing scenes with Sarah Jane Smith, I’d played them out a million times in the playground as a kid, but actually meeting Elisabeth Sladen, who used to be on posters on my bedroom wall, and having to talk to her as an adult. It was too much. Except, of course, she was everything I could hope she would be. Charming, diffident, conscientious, giggly, determined, straightforward, a little crazy and enormously warm. She inspired absolute devotion in everyone who worked with her. Through her largesse and openness I very quickly moved from adoring fan to genuine devotee. I would quiz her for stories about Jon Pertwee and Tom Baker, and after a while she’d oblige, but always with absolute grace and generosity. She would never bore anyone with actorly anecdotes – she had way too much class – but if you could tease some out of her, they were always delicious.

That day around that long conference table was the beginning of a fantastic journey for me. For Lis it was the continuation of a much longer one (albeit the beginning of a glorious new chapter for Sarah Jane Smith). Those scenes in the episode ‘School Reunion’ where the Doctor sees Sarah again after all that time were some of the most thrilling I had on Doctor Who. It was the realisation of a childhood fantasy I never imagined I would entertain. It could only have been with Elisabeth. It was always the Doctor and Sarah.

I loved my time on Doctor Who. I had the huge privilege of working with a host of remarkable, gifted and often highly prestigious actors. My own travelling companions – Billie, Freema and Catherine – were second to none, but the experience just wouldn’t have been the same if my TARDIS hadn’t been graced by the lady who lit up my childhood and helped me fall in love with it all in the first place.

As a child I was delighted to know Sarah Jane Smith.

As an adult I was privileged to know Elisabeth Sladen.

David Tennant

September 2011

Prologue

I Wouldn’t Have Missed It For The World

IT SHOULD have been the happiest day of my life.

Sweeping up to the front door in a vintage white Rolls, a vision in ivory, from the flower in my hair to the heels on my feet; this was the moment I’d been waiting for all my life.

I entered the hall and saw him waiting: the man of my dreams. I stared into his eyes and the world melted away. Nothing else mattered. Not our guests – neighbours, an old editor, my hairdresser and accountant – or my trusty dog hidden under the table. Not even my son, who had given me away. Those people were my past. My future was standing next to me. In a few minutes it would all be over and we would be together. Forever.

Finally, the wedding music stopped and the ceremony began. The registrar’s words drifted past like clouds; she could have been saying anything. I wished she’d hurry up.

Just a few more seconds …

The formalities continued: ‘If any person can show just cause or impediment why they may not be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.’ Nearly there, I thought, just a few more moments.

And then the skinny man in the blue suit ruined everything with four simple words.

‘Stop this wedding – now!’

*   *   *

‘And cut!’

Thank God for that. I could finally breathe. A prop it might have been, but my beautiful frock was as uncompromisingly tight as a real wedding dress. After all, no one wants to look anything short of their best on their special day – even if it is only make believe.

It was May 2009. We were shooting The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith and the skinny man in the blue suit, none other than David Tennant, had just blown the doors off our show. It was an incredible entrance, so passionate, so electric and so above and beyond anything we might have expected considering he was coming to us direct from filming his last moments as the Tenth Doctor. You knew he could smell the freedom, almost touch the fresh pastures. But first … Seriously, no one on The Sarah Jane Adventures would have been surprised if he’d turned in a more low-key performance. To be honest, we were just grateful he’d actually turned up at all. But David – and the Doctor – always delivers (even when he almost certainly didn’t want to be there, but more of that later).

Back in my trailer, after an amazing first day with our guest star, I had to pinch myself. Was it really more than thirty years since I had first stepped into the TARDIS – and into the living rooms of millions of viewers? It seemed like yesterday, but that’s time travel for you. In fact, even though I’d said goodbye to relative dimensions in space in 1976, my character, Sarah Jane Smith, seemed to have lived on in the memories and hearts of so many fans. I don’t know why she was so popular, but the letters from new generations of audiences never dried up, not when I left Doctor Who, not even when the show was finally taken off air in 1989. People always cared about Sarah, and no one more so than the wonderful Russell T Davies, who not only brought her back in 2006