This Is Your Life: Rita Hunter

Rita Hunter recalls her experience of This Is Your Life in her autobiography, Wait till the Sun Shines, Nellie...

Just before Mairwyn's operation I had a strange phone call from Lord Harewood. Would I take part in a short documentary about how singers learn their roles? It was to be on Wednesday 7th March. I groaned and pointed out that was the night after a performance of Siegfried - I never could sing the day after unless he wanted me to do an imitation of Dame Clara Butt. 'You won't have to sing much,' he said.

He had already asked John to get me to do it, but John had told him, 'She won't do it for me, Lord Harewood, you're the only one who could win her round.' You will have realised by now that a lot of people were manipulating behind my back. Lord Harewood even phoned my agents to get them to ask me, but they had no luck either. Eventually he phoned me again, and with a sigh I said yes, then asked him what I should wear. 'Why, whatever you look your grandest in my dear.' I went back to the lounge and said to John, 'Silly fool, how can I wear a grand dress? Everyone seeing the film will laugh. No one wears grand dresses to rehearse in.' John sighed and said, 'Wear whatever you feel right in.' Then there was a phone call from Betty, who said she was coming up for a few days as she wanted to see Siegfried.

The night before the filming John Barker came into my dressing room to discuss what we would do for the documentary. By now I was sick of the whole thing and wasn't looking forward to getting up early the next morning to go to the hairdressers. I said to John Barker, 'Are you getting paid for this rat-bag film we are doing, or is it another of Lord Harewood's charity efforts?' John Barker coughed in an embarrassed manner, but I thought, 'Oh hell, I've said it now, if the dressing-room is bugged, hard luck'.

I repeated 'Are you getting paid?' Poor John Barker said, 'No', and slid out of the room, leaving me to prepare for the Siegfried Brünnhilde, cursing all charity efforts.

The next afternoon about four o'clock I was standing in our front room looking for the car that was to take us to the theatre. When it pulled up outside the door I said, 'Come and look at this, isn't this typical of Thames TV. If it had been the BBC they would have sent a Rolls.' There was a hoot of laughter from Betty, and John, very much on edge, said sharply, 'Don't be such a bloody snob.'

We got into the car and off we went, and after a while I said to the driver, 'If you're going to the London Coliseum you're going in the wrong direction.' John said, 'Don't interfere, Rita, he knows what he's doing.'

I was not to be shushed. 'Are we going to the studios, perhaps?' The driver said, 'No, madam, the theatre.'

'Well, as I told you, this is the wrong way, it'll take ages this way.'

The driver said, 'We are a bit early for your appointment and so I thought you would like to see a bit of the countryside.'

'Not really,' I said sarcastically.

When we got to the theatre I said, 'Hello,' to the stage doorkeeper as we went in. He ignored me and seemed to have his head halfway into a telephone. Charles Kraus met me and said he would show me up to the ballet rehearsal room where we were to do the film. 'No need,' I said. 'I know where it is, I spend half my working life up there.'

Nevertheless Charles did climb up the stairs with us - there were a lot of them, the opera company could never afford to get a lift installed. Halfway up, just outside Lord Harewood's office, I stopped to get my breath and said to Charles, 'You know why George has his office way up here? The bugger knows that by the time you get up here you have no breath left to ask for a pay rise.' Charles blushed purple and began to cough. Little did I know that George was right behind his door waiting for me to pass.

There were quite a few people in the room - Helen from the press office, Bill Strowbridge from wardrobe - and though I didn't mind them being there I thought it strange as they were never at a music rehearsal.

I shrugged and thought, 'Let's get it over with and get back to Coronation Street.' The camera began to roll and John Barker began to play and I began to sing. I was sharply interrupted and as everyone now knows it was: 'Rita Hunter - this is your life'. The look I gave poor Mr Andrews could have killed a cobra. All I could think of was the lies I had been taking for weeks from John.

When he had left me in the hospital with Mairwyn he had gone to see the research people from Thames TV. When he had been late visiting the Clinic he had not been having a problem parking, he had been down the road at Thames TV. The reason my filing cabinet was in chaos was not my interfering child but my Kojak of a husband. The shoes that were missing were taken and hidden for me to change into before I went on to the TV set. He had even taken my evening dress into the theatre the night before and got the wardrobe to iron it. Oh, he was the crafty one.

Betty was there for a reason, too. She had quickly got Mairwyn ready the moment John and I left the house. She had to rip the sleeve out of a dress to get it to go over her broken arm. Another car was waiting round the corner to take her and Mairwyn right to the studio. Everyone asked me if I had known. No, I had not. I always prided myself that nothing ever got past me. This Is Your Life certainly did. I did not suspect a thing. Of course, looking back, it all seems so obvious - but I often wonder if the people responsible for the programme realise the strain they put on a relationship!