Ooh! What a Lovely Pair Our Story (3 page)

Who said that?

Me, mainly.

Thanks to Lynne Spencer, the teacher who’d encouraged me to audition for
Why Don’t You?,
I’d had an audition for the second series of
Byker Grove.
Even though I’d decided I wasn’t keen on performing after
Why Don’t You?,
Lynne had given me yet another push. The audition was at school, and I had a plan – turn up, do the audition, not get the part and forget about the whole thing. My plan was, however, foiled, when the producers sent a letter to my house asking to see me again. The idea of another audition put all sorts of questions in my head: Would I have the courage to go through with it? Would I still get teased at school? And did they even have a drunken bloke on a bus in
Byker Grove
?

The second audition was held at an old stately home called the Mitre, in Benwell, where
Byker Grove
was filmed, so I thought I could get away with not turning up – because it wasn’t at school, Lynne wouldn’t be there, so I could just say I was sick, or the dog had eaten my letter, or something else equally mature. I hid the letter from my mam and only told my mate Ginger about it, and that’s when fate intervened. Or rather Ginger did, because he was the one who let my mam know what I’d done.

My mam went mad, and rang the producers to tell them I’d definitely
be at the audition. She took me down there herself and, when we arrived, she was brilliant, she said, ‘Right, now it’s up to you. If you want to do it, do it. If you don’t like the experience, that’s fine, but at least give yourself a chance.’

So I did the audition, in a little darkened room at the Mitre, and I remember thinking, ‘This place isn’t even in
Byker.
They’re crafty, these TV people.’

I’d learnt two pieces of script – one as PJ, and one as a different character and, of course, I always had a drunk up my sleeve – not literally, but you know what I mean. And, just like the audition for
Why Don’t You?,
I was nervous, but unlike the audition for
Why Don’t You?,
I was also terrified. This was a whole different kettle of fish to the auditions I’d faced at school.

Even now, when we watch kids audition for
Britain’s Got Talent,
it takes me and Dec back to our first auditions, because we know exactly what they are going through. Although if, by some strange twist of fate, Simon Cowell had been at the Mitre that day, I’m not sure I’d have made it – but we’ll come to The Prince Of Darkness later in the book.

I got through the audition without any major disasters, went home and, later that day, the producer rang the house and offered me the part of a character called Robert.

I was over the moon. I’d gone from feeling fairly lukewarm about it all to being ecstatic. I’d seen the first series of
Byker Grove,
so I knew it was a much bigger deal than
Why Don’t You?
It was a proper acting job, with long-term prospects, so I thought it would be worth putting up with any hassle I might get at school. When I got the news, me, my mam and Sarha indulged in the traditional celebration of running round the sofa and screaming.

Then the phone rang again. I thought, ‘That’ll probably be Steven Spielberg, he’s heard about
Why Don’t You?
and now
Byker Grove,
he’s probably about to cast me as the new Indiana Jones or something.’ To my surprise, it wasn’t Steven Spielberg, it was the producer of
Byker Grove.
They’d changed their mind – they didn’t want to offer me the part of Robert, after all. My heart sank, until he said they’d like to offer me the part of PJ – PJ the DJ. I thought, ‘PJ the DJ? That sounds cheesy,’ but of course I took it and, as soon as I put the phone down, I did what any other twelve-year-old would have done in that situation: three more laps of the sofa.

I think the way we got into
Byker Grove
also tells you something about our different personalities. I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry, we’re not about to get all deep and psychological, this is just a quick observation.

I jumped straight in and couldn’t wait to get going, and that’s what I’m like with people – I’m happy to talk to almost anyone, being what’s technically known as a complete show-off.

I, on the other hand, took my time to decide acting was for me, I wasn’t sure at first, and I suppose that does reflect my personality. Even now, I never jump straight into things – except swimming pools – I always reserve judgement and take my time. If you don’t believe me, it took me twenty minutes just to come up with that sentence.

I think there’s a lesson there for everyone reading this book – if you ever bump into us two, talk to Dec, he’s much better with new people than I am.

We had our parts, and we were ready to go. Just to refresh your memory, and our memories for that matter,
Byker Grove
was a weekly kids’ drama on BBC1 set in a youth club in, well, Byker, which is a real area in the east end of Newcastle. Most of the characters were aged between twelve and sixteen, and the series ran from 1989 to 2006, although, obviously, the actors changed, otherwise you’d have had a load of people in their thirties going to a youth club, and that would definitely have damaged the show’s credibility.

So, it’s the late eighties, we’ve got our first proper acting jobs, and nothing was going to stop us making a go of our new careers.

Well, nothing except a complete lack of any genuine acting experience…

Chapter 2

I turned up on my first day at
Byker Grove
absolutely terrified, and I noticed there was a pattern emerging here:

Audition for
Why Don’t You?
– nervous.

Audition for
Byker Grove
– scared.

First day at
Byker Grove
– absolutely terrified.

Between you and me, I was starting to think it might be some sort of allergic reaction to performing. I considered having a stiff drink to steady my nerves, but then I realized I was thirteen years old, so I took a deep breath and headed into the Mitre.

I walked into a big room where all the cast were and immediately felt intimidated. There were teenage actors everywhere, all laughing, swapping stories and generally having a great time. Most of them had been together for series one, so they’d already formed friendships, whereas the only relationship I had with them was based on watching them on the telly on a Tuesday afternoon. And even then I sometimes used to watch
Children’s Ward
on ITV instead…

How could you?

I know, I’m sorry.

They really were a daunting bunch – they were all mates and, in my eyes, they were famous.

Oh yeah, having been in series one of
Byker Grove
together, we were
huge
celebrities – it was like a Geordie
Ocean’s Eleven.

Lyndyann Barrass, aka Spuggie, was there – I’ll never forget that shock of red hair. There was Sally McQuillan, who played Donna; she was
the Queen Bee. Jill Halfpenny, who went on to bigger and better things, was also in the room. Like I say, I found them all very intimidating. The weirdest thing of all was that, for the entire day, we didn’t do any filming. I didn’t know it when I arrived, but the whole thing was designed as an ice-breaker to welcome the new kids, and with me, well, let’s just say there was a lot of ice to break – a pickaxe would have come in handy.

We all sat in a big circle with Dee Wood, one of the chaperones, and played word-association games. I didn’t have a clue what was going on. The only word I could associate with the whole thing was ‘cringiness’. After that, we moved on to a game that they all knew and I didn’t, called, ‘I went to the shops and I bought…’, where you had to recite a shopping list. Or something. I was so confused, I nearly popped out to Tesco when it was my turn.

Of course, this was the first time me and Dec met. People often ask us about that first meeting, and you probably think it was this magical moment where we instantly connected, immediately hit it off and then started finishing each other’s…

… sentences.

But it wasn’t…

… like that at all.

That first day was terrible. It couldn’t have been scarier if I’d been walking into the Royal Shakespeare Company as the new Hamlet.

As you can imagine, I felt like a complete stranger on the edge of the group. And there was a good reason for that: I
was
a complete stranger on the edge of the group.

I just thought you were a grumpy bugger.

In fact, I still think you’re a grumpy bugger.

Pretty soon we were all talking to each other – you know what kids are like, they’ll talk to anyone, especially when adults force them to. The first
thing I noticed about Dec was how small and young-looking he was, and we quickly got chatting about a subject we both had in common, something that’s caused us tears, pain and no end of misery over the years: following Newcastle United. We also bonded over the fact that we were both from the west end – a lot of the other kids on
Byker Grove
were from other parts of the North-east, whereas we lived fairly close to each other.

I must say that, on the whole, everyone was really nice to me. I must say that because some of them might be reading this…

But, as I said, there wasn’t a magical moment where Dec and me bonded and decided to spend the rest of our lives together.

You make us sound like a married couple.

Don’t be ridiculous, married couples spend every waking minute together, always know what the other one’s thinking and constantly bicker with each other.

No they don’t.

Yes they do.

No they don’t. Look, what did we say? Not in the book…

Okay, okay.

As well as the kids who’d been in series one, there were also professionals, grown-up actors. People like ‘Little’ Billy Fane, who played Geoff, the youth leader in charge of the Grove.

Thanks to a long career in local theatre and panto, plus some TV work, Billy was a household name in the North-east. Our parents knew who he was, and the two of us certainly looked up to him.

Although, back then, we looked up to most people – we were even smaller than we are now…

Byker Grove
was a very well-run production, very professional, and a lot of that was down to Matthew Robinson, the producer. To us, he was the godfather of the whole thing. Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t put a horse’s head in PJ’s bed or anything, but you knew he was definitely in charge. He directed the first six episodes and a lot of the following series, and he always had a bit of an aura about him. For a start; he’d come up from London or, to give it its proper title in Geordie, ‘that London’, or if you’re over eighteen, ‘that bloody London’. He’d worked on EastEnders, during the golden era of Den, Angie and, of course, Ethel’s little Willy, and that immediately impressed everyone.

And, let’s be honest, impressing people with a little Willy isn’t easy…

When Matthew started on
Byker Grove,
he made a major announcement: no stage-school kids. Because he’d worked on EastEnders, whenever he made a major announcement it was followed by the sound of drums going duff, doof, duff, dufff, duff d-d-d-d-doof. That was the EastEnders theme tune, by the way, which isn’t easy to type. Matthew was adamant that he wanted children from real, working-class backgrounds like ours, and that was really admirable.

Matthew taught me, Dec and the rest of the cast so much, including how to actually act, which, looking back, is kind of vital when you’re making a drama. He also taught us how to use pauses… which… was… great.

See? I’ve still got it.

Pacing yourself was really important, because when you first get a group of kids reading a script together, it all sounds like this:

‘
HeyPJfancygoingtothegrovetoseeSpuggieandhaveawater fightbeforewegototheshopsintown?’

He also taught us how to work together as actors, and how to get the mood of a scene right. And when you have huge storylines, like going to the shops in town, or going to the shops near the Grove, that kind of stuff is crucial. It’s got to be done with gravitas, with impact and with emphasis – in all the right places.

Imagine the bit in
Empire Strikes Back
when Darth Vader tells Luke Skywalker he’s his dad – it was like that, but with shops.

Matthew had the patience of a saint – and he needed it, working with a bunch of hyperactive kids who’d never really done any acting before. He also lived and breathed
Byker Grove,
and he really took to Newcastle as a city. After about a year there, he could even speak some of the language. He would also be careful not to go on about London – sorry, ‘that London’ – all the time.

The most important and valuable thing Matthew taught us, though, was professionalism. He treated us all like adults and made sure we understood that, when you were filming, you were at work, and time was money. We might have been kids, but we were getting paid, and there was a word for what we were doing. It was called a job, and he made sure none of us forgot that.