Derek Jacobi

‘I was a war baby, an evacuee, with one parent fighting. Our Yuletide festivities were very simple’

Christmas cheer was rather meagre for me until 1945. I was a war baby, an evacuee, with one parent fighting a war, the other a working mum. Our Yuletide festivities were very simple and resolutely homemade, lacking any religious dimension (apart from the carols). In my mind it was a time of gentle entertainment and mild indulgence.

I remember waking up with a pillowcase full of presents by my bed, placed there, I knew full well, by my dad. The smell of actual and once-a-year-only roast chicken wafted around the house. Later, all our small family would gather beneath the proudly and inexpertly made paperchains to exchange gifts and play games like ‘Cod’em’ which involved finding a sixpence hidden in a row of clenched fists. (It sounds simple but often led to shrieks of outrage.) It was a wonderfully warm, loving oasis. No television, only the King’s Christmas Message on the radio.

I recall, perhaps wrongly, that snow was almost guaranteed in those distant days. And trips to the pantomime were essential. Being a London child, I was taken to the great Palladium shows where on one occasion I was taken up on to the stage by Prince Charming, played by the beautiful Evelyn Laye, to be rewarded with sweets and a balloon.

I’ve never done a Christmas pantomime myself, although the offer of Ugly Sister or Dame has been made many a time, and promptly turned down, not out of fright but out of the exhausting thought of having to perform in three shows a day. The urge to don the big frock, however, has never quite gone away.

The childhood wonder of Christmas stayed with me throughout the difficult teenage years and traces linger still, despite the pleasures on offer now appearing rather more garish and overblown by comparison. Nevertheless, Christmas is still a magical event.

The aspect that I find difficult is the frequently important choice of ‘gifts’. I suppose an actor, used to delving into the psyche of others should be adept at picking out the ideal present but I find it well-nigh impossible. But I am good at faking my own reaction to a received present that I find totally inappropriate and awful. My gleeful surprise, wonderment and joy when given the package and my welter of grateful thank you’s is Oscar worthy.

When I think of Christmas, the image that keeps coming back to me is ‘family’ – not necessarily blood relations (those in my case have all disappeared and even in my advanced age I feel well and truly orphaned) but a family of friends, close friends, with whom I can remember and recreate that sense of belonging and sharing and above all, of having fun.

I will always look forward to 25th December, waking up that morning to the comforting prospect of a day of delights, a day of tastes and smells, of giving and receiving and hopefully of heartfelt laughter. It was always special and may it so remain.

Derek, 81, is a celebrated stage and screen actor and producer, known for I, Claudius, Vicious and Last Tango in Halifax