‘I no longer start a sentence with “Do you mind terribly"'
I don’t care about the age thing at all. I just care about being nearer to death, which is something I don’t want. I may be a bit creaky sometimes, but I accept that as being just part of the package. I’m careful about what I eat. I try and walk a lot. I also swim fairly regularly. I do a tiny bit of yoga just to keep myself pliant.’
Age is said to make some people more mellow. Not Sheila. ‘I’m no longer a grumpy old woman,’ she announces. ‘I’m now an angry old woman. More on behalf of other people than myself. And I’ve become more direct.
‘I no longer start a sentence with, “Do you mind terribly if I say to you that it would be a good idea, blah, blah.” Now, I’m much more likely to say, “I think it would be a really good idea if we did this.” I can’t be bothered to wrap it all up, to sugar-coat it.’
So, is she happy? ‘Well, I have moments of happiness. I’ve trained myself to say out loud “I am happy now” in an attempt to hold on to the moment. But I get upset more easily. I’ll walk down the road, see someone looking miserable and be griefstricken on their behalf. John used to call it my Messiah complex.’
John, of course, is her second husband, actor John Thaw, who died of oesophageal cancer in 2002. ‘I’ve only got myself to answer to now, and in a way that’s very liberating. The older you get, the more you appreciate your own company. But it can also be dangerous, because you can get things out of proportion if you don’t talk things through with someone else.’
Theirs was a famously passionate, if tempestuous, marriage. Even today, grief can still ambush her emotions. ‘I see an old couple walking together, hand in hand, and think, “That could have been us.” I love classical music I have Radio 3 on the whole time. Occasionally they’ll play something modern and I grapple to appreciate it. But I can hear John saying, “Oh, for God’s sake…” And it makes me smile.’
Sometimes the two of them worked together. ‘John and I did a play, So What About Love?, before we got together a couple of years later after my first husband had died. Then we were in Kavanagh QC on telly. It was all right, but I’m not sure it was an entirely good idea.
‘I’m a different person when I’m working from when I’m at home. When I worked with John, they all adored him. They were a gang. They had their in-jokes. I’m not criticising him for that. But I think it’s really good, if you have a family, to go to work and be this slightly different version of yourself.
‘If you leave the house together destined for the same place of work, it muddies the water somewhat. I was totally different around him when we worked together. I had to be. He was the leading actor; I had to treat him with respect. Going to work on your own is a marvellous safety valve for a relationship, because it takes the pressure off.’
Left to her own devices, Sheila worries about the world. A Quaker by choice – ‘and we’re pacifists’ – she is deeply disturbed about the ongoing spread of war. Bombing Syria, she says, is not the answer, because innocent civilians will inevitably be killed. ‘I do think it’s a male thing: this reflex reaction to fight back.
‘I can’t prove this, but if Mrs Clinton became the US President and with Angela Merkel a strong German Chancellor, perhaps the world might become a gentler place. The Quaker approach is all to do with going into war centres and trying to bring people together. I worry that a lot of Westminster politicians are increasingly out of step with the wishes of the man and woman in the street. People are much less inclined to go to war than they used to be.
‘And why do we have to have Trident? Because other major powers do? Well, why not set an example by decommissioning it? You can say what you like about Jeremy Corbyn, but he’s certainly opened up the debate. My grandchildren love him.
‘I’ve seen so many changes in my life, and of course I don’t have the answers. I’m bewildered and appalled by what’s going on, although it’s important not to panic. There are always going to be people who choose violence, but we mustn’t let them change what we believe in.’
To offset the occasional despair she feels at the craziness of the world around her, Sheila has always had her work. And, despite her age, she’s never been busier.
She’s currently enjoying great success at the Southwark Playhouse playing Edith Bouvier Beale opposite Jenna Russell in the musical Grey Gardens, about Jackie Kennedy’s eccentric aunt and cousin. With the run entirely sold out, there is now talk of a transfer. She’s considering writing another volume of memoirs following two bestsellers. And she pops up regularly on television – she was recently in an episode of Casualty – and radio, both in plays and as a recurring panellist on Just A Minute. ‘I’m determined to cram in as much as possible before I die,’ she says.
And her epitaph, if she could write it? ‘Not interested. Quakers only have their name and dates on their headstones. When I die, I die. That’s it. Gone. If anything survives of me, it will be in the spirit of my children. Beyond that, I have absolutely no interest in me or my reputation. All that dies with me.’
Grey Gardens is on until 6 February at the Southwark Playhouse, London SE1: 020-7407 0234, www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk
Age is said to make some people more mellow. Not Sheila. ‘I’m no longer a grumpy old woman,’ she announces. ‘I’m now an angry old woman. More on behalf of other people than myself. And I’ve become more direct.
‘I no longer start a sentence with, “Do you mind terribly if I say to you that it would be a good idea, blah, blah.” Now, I’m much more likely to say, “I think it would be a really good idea if we did this.” I can’t be bothered to wrap it all up, to sugar-coat it.’
So, is she happy? ‘Well, I have moments of happiness. I’ve trained myself to say out loud “I am happy now” in an attempt to hold on to the moment. But I get upset more easily. I’ll walk down the road, see someone looking miserable and be griefstricken on their behalf. John used to call it my Messiah complex.’
John, of course, is her second husband, actor John Thaw, who died of oesophageal cancer in 2002. ‘I’ve only got myself to answer to now, and in a way that’s very liberating. The older you get, the more you appreciate your own company. But it can also be dangerous, because you can get things out of proportion if you don’t talk things through with someone else.’
Theirs was a famously passionate, if tempestuous, marriage. Even today, grief can still ambush her emotions. ‘I see an old couple walking together, hand in hand, and think, “That could have been us.” I love classical music I have Radio 3 on the whole time. Occasionally they’ll play something modern and I grapple to appreciate it. But I can hear John saying, “Oh, for God’s sake…” And it makes me smile.’
Sometimes the two of them worked together. ‘John and I did a play, So What About Love?, before we got together a couple of years later after my first husband had died. Then we were in Kavanagh QC on telly. It was all right, but I’m not sure it was an entirely good idea.
‘I’m a different person when I’m working from when I’m at home. When I worked with John, they all adored him. They were a gang. They had their in-jokes. I’m not criticising him for that. But I think it’s really good, if you have a family, to go to work and be this slightly different version of yourself.
‘If you leave the house together destined for the same place of work, it muddies the water somewhat. I was totally different around him when we worked together. I had to be. He was the leading actor; I had to treat him with respect. Going to work on your own is a marvellous safety valve for a relationship, because it takes the pressure off.’
Left to her own devices, Sheila worries about the world. A Quaker by choice – ‘and we’re pacifists’ – she is deeply disturbed about the ongoing spread of war. Bombing Syria, she says, is not the answer, because innocent civilians will inevitably be killed. ‘I do think it’s a male thing: this reflex reaction to fight back.
‘I can’t prove this, but if Mrs Clinton became the US President and with Angela Merkel a strong German Chancellor, perhaps the world might become a gentler place. The Quaker approach is all to do with going into war centres and trying to bring people together. I worry that a lot of Westminster politicians are increasingly out of step with the wishes of the man and woman in the street. People are much less inclined to go to war than they used to be.
‘And why do we have to have Trident? Because other major powers do? Well, why not set an example by decommissioning it? You can say what you like about Jeremy Corbyn, but he’s certainly opened up the debate. My grandchildren love him.
‘I’ve seen so many changes in my life, and of course I don’t have the answers. I’m bewildered and appalled by what’s going on, although it’s important not to panic. There are always going to be people who choose violence, but we mustn’t let them change what we believe in.’
To offset the occasional despair she feels at the craziness of the world around her, Sheila has always had her work. And, despite her age, she’s never been busier.
She’s currently enjoying great success at the Southwark Playhouse playing Edith Bouvier Beale opposite Jenna Russell in the musical Grey Gardens, about Jackie Kennedy’s eccentric aunt and cousin. With the run entirely sold out, there is now talk of a transfer. She’s considering writing another volume of memoirs following two bestsellers. And she pops up regularly on television – she was recently in an episode of Casualty – and radio, both in plays and as a recurring panellist on Just A Minute. ‘I’m determined to cram in as much as possible before I die,’ she says.
And her epitaph, if she could write it? ‘Not interested. Quakers only have their name and dates on their headstones. When I die, I die. That’s it. Gone. If anything survives of me, it will be in the spirit of my children. Beyond that, I have absolutely no interest in me or my reputation. All that dies with me.’
Grey Gardens is on until 6 February at the Southwark Playhouse, London SE1: 020-7407 0234, www.southwarkplayhouse.co.uk