Wendy and Me


By Larry Jaffee

Like everyone else who had the pleasure of knowing her, I am deeply saddened by Wendy Richard's passing.

It was about nine years ago when I first had the opportunity to make her acquaintance.

How it came about was somewhat unusual. One day in early 2000 I received an email from John Burns, Wendy’s then boyfriend, later her husband, saying that they would be in New York and would I fancy a drink?

I was surprised, since over the years her agent had repeatedly turned down the requests Dan Abramson, the Walford Gazette’s co-founder, had made for an interview. When I arrived at their Upper East Side hotel, off Central Park, I was half expecting to be read the riot act about something that had offended her in the Gazette.

I do remember them both being bothered by a paparazzo for the British tabloids milling around the hotel lobby (we met at the bar), and wondering who had tipped the man off. (I didn't have anything to do with it, and thankfully they believed me.)

She was glad to hear that I had been selling the hard cover of her autobiography, which had been published earlier in the year. In fact, her book was selling way faster than the memoirs of either Barbara Windsor or Mike Reid, both issued around the same time. This surprised me somewhat because I thought that Peggy and Frank were more popular characters.

I kept that first meeting all casual.

I never pulled out a tape recorder or notebook, which seemed to be what Wendy preferred. Interestingly, that was how the relationship remained over the dozen or so meetings in New York and London (at her local pub, The Beehive in Marble Arch) that she, John and I would have in the ensuing years. I never did a formal interview with her, which I now regret.



Tim Wilson, however, interviewed her in 2000 for the Gazette in support of her book, originally published in issue #33 and reprinted on page 4.

Wendy was always friendly, and asked about my family, whom she met in 2001 when I organised a dinner party in her honour with about 15 New York-area fans at a nice Indian restaurant. (All the dinner party proceedings are captured in issue #34.) We bonded over being dog owners, and she doted after her Shirley, as I did with my Elvis.

Wendy was always quick to offer support or a first-hand quote when something came up in the U.S. regarding EastEnders, such as the BBC America cancellation in September 2003.

She submitted a personal memory when her friend and Are You Being Served? colleague John Inman died.

And she also told me how devastated she was by the 9/11 attacks. New York was their home away from home. I once gave Wendy as a gift a rare promotional DVD of Everyone Loves Raymond, her favourite American TV show.

During this period, her boyfriend John and I became close, too. We’re about the same age, and both enjoy sports. He often told me about the progress of his two daughters, and three years ago when I became separated from my wife, we talked about what it was like to be a divorced dad.

I realised that it was largely because of John that I had such a great relationship with Wendy. He was constantly thinking of ways for her to get closer to her many fans.

In fact, a few years ago John and I discussed the possibility of mounting an EastEnders convention in the U.S. with Wendy as the star attraction. Sadly, that never came to fruition.

Wendy’s importance to EastEnders became clear to me when in January 2003 I met the then EastEnders executive producer Mal Young at his office. He told me he used Pauline Fowler as a litmus test regarding creative decisions about the show. Mal would ask himself, “What would Pauline think?”

And most of all, I was so touched by Wendy calling my mother in December 2007 to offer words of encouragement right before she was to have cancer surgery. My mom was so moved that someone famous would take the time to speak with her.

I’m going to miss you, Wendy; you’re a peach!




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