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A morning cigar and a glass of wine with Sir John

Lloyd Evans

Wednesday, 13th February 2008

At 84, John Mortimer is still thrilled by his latest theatrical success, appalled by the cult of ‘health and fitness’ and sorry that the Labour party he loved has vanished.

I fish for gossip, hoping for an indiscretion, but Sir John is one of those rare creatures who looks for the good in everyone. ‘I’m of the school that likes Cherie. Very kind to me always... Ken Livingstone, I always found something to like about him.’ He’s happier discussing his family whose photos adorn the shelves on all sides. When he mentions his daughter Emily his voice softens and weakens. ‘She lives in Brooklyn, which is really sad.’ ‘Is her partner American?’ ‘Yes, yes... he’s er, he’s an actor too.’ Pause. While I wait for his name, I say, ‘I should probably know it.’ ‘Yes,’ he mutters. ‘So should I.’ Another pause. ‘Alexander!’ he laughs. The couple’s son Sam is much closer to his thoughts. ‘Last time we met we were talking about Diana and I said to Sam, “But you know, Diana’s dead.” And he said, “Of course she’s dead. That’s why she’s called Princess Di.”’

Emboldened by wine, I mention a half-remembered snippet from a Kathy Lette interview. ‘She said you could have sex with her if you could catch her. How’s that coming along?’ He chuckles. ‘She’d get away. My legs aren’t too strong.’ I leave him, having enjoyed myself enormously but aware that my interview has partially failed. I’ve uncovered no juicy revelation or nugget of scandal. Sir John has stuck religiously to his earlier line, ‘Nor set down aught in malice.’ Perhaps this is the tactic of a shrewd professional charmer, but my guess is that there’s no calculation about it at all. More likely he’s stumbled on the secret of a happy life.

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