Best Day of My Life: True stories to inspire, move and entertain - Told by a cross-section of the UK's celebrities and courageous everyday people. Giles Vickers Jones
But that’s another story …
Deputy Editor of Heat
I’ve had many great days in my life, but one that sticks out as truly magical was the time when I was eight years old. It was the middle of the school holidays and we were having an Indian summer. Bored of playing on scorching-hot tarmac and the brittle, faded lawns in our close, I asked my mum if I could venture further into the cornfields. The place were the Big Kids played. Every morning I would see them go off like excited explorers, armed with packed lunches and various camp-building paraphernalia, and not return until dusk. I was intensely jealous and used to spend hours sitting on the kerb in front of our house wondering what adventures they were having in those huge, swaying swathes of yellow that encircled our village.
To my surprise, Mum agreed and I set off with my friend Hayley who lived next door. We felt so grown up! Despite promising to stay near the edge of the fields, we soon got lost in the four-foot-high corn as we wandered through, occasionally chasing each other. Eventually, we found ‘our’ spot and it was better than we ever imagined. We made tunnels and camps and built houses complete with kitchens, gardens and bedrooms. Once we’d finished one area, we’d move on. Occasionally shouts and voices would carry across from other kids playing out there but, for most of the day, it felt like we were the only ones in our little world. It was wonderful.
I remember as the light was failing we came across an abandoned shed where a local tramp was rumoured to live. I think his name was ‘One-eyed Bill’ or something. We saw a bundle of black rags in the corner and Hayley made me go in to check them. I remember the abject terror and exhilaration when the rags stirred and something horrible ran out towards us and out the door. Looking back, the pheasant was more scared than us, but at the time we thought it was the ghost of One-eyed Bill – or worse – and ran back through the fields, screaming our heads off. We eventually reached the edge again and decided it was time to go home for dinner.
Compared to many people’s definition of the best day of their life, it must seem mundane and ordinary, but, to me, that is what’s so special. It signified a time of innocence, the simple, happy pursuit of childhood pleasures before life started to be about paying bills and meeting deadlines. I am 32 now and, whenever I am squashed under someone’s armpit on the tube home from work, I think about that halcyon day. It puts a smile on my face.
Comedian
Idefinitely know what the best day of my life is. Apart from the day I was born, obviously. Can you imagine if I hadn’t been born? It wouldn’t just be me who would have lost out, it would be you! Yes, you! No, the best day of my life would have to be when I appeared on The Royal Variety Performance. I couldn’t believe it when I got the invitation; I was so excited I kept re-reading it to check that it was Alan Carr and not Jimmy Carr they wanted.
Then I checked that it was Her Majesty Elizabeth II attending and not someone shit like Princess Michael of Kent or that bloody Edward. If I’m performing, I want the real deal. I want A-list royalty; I want ermine, I want a crown, I want orbs. I mean, Dame Shirley Bassey was headlining so Liz had a lot to live up to when it came to making an entrance.
The venue wasn’t the Palladium, which was probably the only disappointment, as it was at Cardiff at the Millennium Centre, where I would be performing alongside Sir Cliff Richard, Dame Shirley Bassey, Charlotte Church and Will Young. So not camp at all then really! The only way it could have been gayer would have been if Dale Winton, Lulu and Christopher Biggins joined the Village People for ‘YMCA’ as the finale – but, thinking about it, wasn’t that the year before?
Of course I was nervous. This was before I had done any television. I was just a baby and at the sound check I realised I was the only one who hadn’t had extensive reconstructive plastic surgery. I was 28 and I looked the oldest there. Also, The Royal Variety Performance was renowned for being a tough crowd. Hen parties and stag dos I can deal with, but the thought of a whole room of snooty Welsh people and the reigning monarch slow-handclapping terrified me. At least if Sir Cliff Richard dies on his arse he can wheel out ‘Devil Woman’.
There wasn’t much camaraderie that night – all the big stars stayed in their rooms – but Charlotte Church was lovely to me as she always is. I passed Cliff on the stairs and said, ‘Good luck!’
He replied sharply, ‘I’ve already been on,’ which was a bit embarrassing, but to be fair I’d had the runs and had locked myself in a toilet and missed him. I can’t be everywhere.
There were rumours Dame Shirley had demanded extra sequins for her dress and they had sent it back to India to have more sewn on and it was then in the process of being flown back first-class to Heathrow just in time for the show. Oh, the drama! Can you imagine getting them to fly a dress from another continent just for you? I wouldn’t have minded so much but they looked pissed off when I asked them to get me a cheese baguette and a can of Tango and the canteen was only downstairs.
In the dressing rooms, everyone receives a goody bag full of posh presents, aftershaves, scented candles and sweeties. I was sharing a dressing room with the band McFly and we all opened our goody bags together. They are lovely lads, but I had to laugh when their manager told them off for eating too many of the ‘luxury jelly beans’ because the ‘e-numbers’ would make them get all excitable. Who says rock ’n’ roll is dead?
Before long, it was showtime and it was a huge success. All my worries were for nothing. I never fluffed my lines, I never fell off the stage and more importantly I never mentioned Diana. The night before, I’d had the worst anxiety dream where I’d ended my set that night with the words: ‘You’ve been lovely, I’ve been Diana the Princess of Wales.’ The Queen would have loved that, wouldn’t she?
Speaking of the Queen, I finally met her at the end and, although I’m not the biggest royalist, there is something about her. I bowed when she shook my hand and I said, ‘Hello, Ma’am.’ Well, that’s what Will Young had done and he’s posh so I followed suit.
Then she said, ‘You were very entertaining!’
Oh my God, can I have that on my posters for my next tour? By Royal Approval, I am entertaining. Somebody pinch me!
Then I heard her say it to Il Divo, then to McFly, then to Charlotte Church, then to Ozzy Osbourne, then to these two acrobatic dwarves from Croatia whose act was to spin half-naked on what looked like a silver wheelie bin. Christ, if she thinks they’re entertaining, she needs her head testing!
When she started saying it to the woman who sold the ice creams, I realised I’d been duped. She says it to everyone. It’s a line she dishes out to every Tom, Dick and Harry. Damn it! Anyway, for that tiny moment I felt very special indeed; I felt proud and warm inside and I wasn’t going to let Her Majesty’s cheeky white lies spoil the best day of my life.
Features Editor, Heat
How can I possibly pick one day? The answer is: I can’t. So I’ve whittled it down to two. The first is more serious (and, if I’m honest, a bit on the worthy side) and the second involves me and a famous midget …
The best day of my life (part 1)
Euston Train Station. Destination: An adventure/activity hostel in the Lake District. I’m wearing a pair of ridiculous orange baggy trousers. Well, they were cool at the time (they were Maharishi, it was 2001 and I’d seen Jennifer Aniston wearing some a few weeks before). I’ve recently started working as a writer for Heat magazine, having just finished a five-year stint as a presenter on youth channel