‘I was in the middle of writing my own series and I thought, “I’m too busy to read this”. But after I read the first chapter I fell in love with the Chummy in the book. And when I read the scripts I thought, “These are brilliant”.’
Pippa invited Miranda to lunch at Neal Street Production headquarters. As we tucked in to our sandwiches, we were told that Sam Mendes – director of the latest Bond film – was auditioning girls in the room across the corridor. Peering through the glass door, we watched them trooping in and out of his office. ‘Why doesn’t he ask us?’ said Miranda, ‘We’d be much better.’ The three of us laughed a lot that day, which seemed to seal the deal – ironically, perhaps, as this would be Miranda’s first straight role. She was keen to stretch herself dramatically after the success of her eponymous sitcom. Since it was first aired on TV in 2009, Miranda has won her an army of fans and a mantelshelf full of awards.
‘Not having to get a laugh is a nice change,’ she admits. ‘Having done two series of my situation comedy, it was marvellous to do something a bit more real.’ In addition, as the writer, star and executive producer of her series, she enjoys the chance to simply focus on performance. ‘It is a huge pressure off, acting rather than writing. The writing is the hard pressure to me,’ she says ruefully, half way through writing the third series of the sit-com.
Other pleasures include being able to take her Shih-Tzu Peggy to work with her – St Joseph’s, the disused seminary where we film, has thirty acres of dog-friendly grounds – and the company of her fellow actors. There is a genuine chemistry between them all. ‘It really shows on camera, and it works off camera as well. The cast is a great mix of women who just all gelled. I love them all. It’s been lovely to work with them again, making the second series.’
Miranda does take working with tiny infants very seriously. ‘The responsibility of working with babies is great. You are holding this priceless newborn, just terrified you are going to drop them.’ She adds, ‘And they do things like wee in your glove.’
In the final episode of Series One, I wrote a line for Miranda that, when she read it in rehearsal, actually made her punch the air. Told by her mother, Lady Browne, that she must wear white for her forthcoming wedding, Chummy retorts, ‘Sorry. No longer entitled.’
She cites this as one of the best things about her role in Call the Midwife.
‘Getting the man! Now, that was a first.’
Q&A
What is your favourite outfit?
Last year I made myself a Crimplene skirt suit that I like to wear in church. There’s plenty of stretch around the derriere, so it’s frightfully comfy, even during quite long sermons.
Where do you go on holiday?
When I was a child in India, I thought there could be no more exotic place on earth than Blackpool, and I still have a soft spot for the seaside. Give me a 99 and a donkey ride, and my heart could burst with joy.
Who is your dream date and where would you go?
Am I allowed to say my husband? And we’re both sneakingly fond of a good brass band, so we’d go to Hyde Park bandstand and sit in deckchairs and have tea.
What is your favourite record and film?
It sounds awfully frivolous, but I could listen to Jim Reeves singing ‘Chapel In The Moonlight’ till the cows come home. And I do love High Society, it was the first film Peter and I ever went to together.
What is your most treasured memory?
I slept in the street the night before the Coronation, and got a grandstand view of the procession. Her Majesty waved at me as her carriage went by, I still get a wee bit teary when I think of it.
Your favourite meal?
I do rather relish half a pint of whelks, with bread and butter.
What do you do in your spare time?
Now that I’m married, the ironing.
What’s your secret vice?
I sometimes buy a sherbet fountain and guzzle the whole thing without stopping. I suck the sherbet through the liquorice stick and everything. In private, obviously.
And your most shining virtue?
I have unusually warm extremities. My patients like this, and so does my husband.
Where would you like to be in five years’ time?
Here. I have never been happier.
PROFILE
TRIXIE
In late May 2012, Pippa, Hugh, Philippa and I met for lunch at a restaurant on Piccadilly in London. Our rather special guest was slightly late and we sat craning our necks, with our eyes trained on the door. We wondered if we would recognise her when she arrived. Moments later, there she was – blonde, trim and exquisitely turned out in pink and grey, with a toning hat to top off the ensemble. She looked around, spotted us and gave a confident wave. Any doubt evaporated. It was the real Trixie.
Soon after Call the Midwife was broadcast and after Jennifer’s death, Pippa had been contacted by Michael Bruce, a British ex-pat living in Switzerland. He revealed that his wife, Antonia, had nursed with Jennifer Worth in Poplar in the late fifties and they believed she had been the inspiration for the character of Trixie. Pippa immediately responded and it was agreed that we would meet when Antonia came to England in the summer.
At first, we were rather nervous. The onscreen Trixie is a little more vampish and colourful than the girl presented in the book, and though Jennifer never objected, it was always possible that Antonia might. But she was, in fact, extremely cordial, clearly understanding the demands of drama, and she said how much she’d liked Helen George’s performance.
We were all curious to hear more about Antonia’s time ‘on the district’. Initially, she said she wasn’t sure how much she could remember – her Poplar days were, after all, some fifty years ago. Nevertheless, she had brought with her a leather file containing case notes and photographs from her training days. There were no snaps of Jennifer, but many of Antonia, including one of her looking radiant, fresh-faced – and distinctively blonde – on a tennis court, posing with some other midwives. It seems extraordinary that they had any energy for sport as their working days were so long and punishing – Antonia once attended three separate deliveries in a single night. In fact, one of her strongest memories is of the sheer grinding hardness of the work. But there is also much that she recalls with joy, including sitting in