Foreign Secretary and South Shields Labour MP, David Miliband, invited Patrick to give South Shields’ 2008 lecture, which Patrick said he was “honoured” to be asked and jumped at the chance. He was pleased it was, in acting terms, “a dark day”, one which he was not working (for the RSC in Hamlet), and could commit to attending immediately.
After introductions from the event sponsor, head teacher of the school and finally David Miliband, it was Patrick’s turn to take to the stage. Wearing a smart navy blue suit and burgundy tie, his familiar voice rang out across the hall, all eyes and ears watching and listening.
He described himself as an “old Labour” man, the ‘old’ derived from him being a Labour supporter from a very early age. At the tender age of 5, he was picketing on election day with a placard and a song, singing away to anyone who would listen to vote for the Labour candidate (Patrick gave us a rendition of the song, which he commented, made very little sense!). A policeman gave him a “clip round the ear” and told him to go home or he’d tell his father, to which Patrick replied it was his father who’d sent him. He commented that today he would have sued the policeman for assault, which got many laughs and applause from the audience.
Patrick danced between his childhood and his career, weaving his story very creatively and effectively. He told us that his father had been born in Hebburn, a neighbouring town to South Shields, and was indeed a “local lad” by his roots. He described the conditions he was brought up in; a “one up one down” house, the happy days of a bath on a Friday in front of the fire in the zinc tub, being careful not to touch the side nearest the fire. They upgraded when he was 15 to a council house, which was luxury in comparison; a front gate to close on an evening seemed to be a particular memory.
He told an interesting tale of his grandfathers; one, Freedom Barraclough and how you could tell Patrick loved his name!) had no choice but to be a socialist with a name like that. The other, William Stewart, who deserted his grandmother and was found in London working as an actor, only to disappear stage right one evening when the police were waiting to arrest him stage left, never to be seen again. His mother and brother were both keen on amateur dramatics themselves. His mother in a distinct group of women actresses who only took on roles as men (I think that was it!). His brother, Trevor, is apparently still well known in their hometown for his “good looks and not bad acting skills” in the local productions.
He recounted how his elder brother would read him bed-time stories as a child, Shakespeare of course, and until well into his teens did he think Shakespeare was talking about “shovelling coal” in Hamlet rather than “shuffled (off this mortal) coil”. His Yorkshire dialect getting the better of him! In what I tend to think of as one of those “fork in the road” moments, he described how he had the choice of whether to go sit his 11+ exam (and if he passed, go to the grammar school) or head in the opposite direction and wander the Yorkshire countryside. It didn’t appear to be a very hard choice as Patrick recalled that he turned his back on the school and enjoyed a day in the woods, looking down on his village and school where his friends were sitting their exam.
Continued here
