Not that Kinda Girl
Lisa Maxwell, an addition to the quick-witted Loose Women team, is a bundle of fun and laughter and a natural storyteller. Here, for the first time, she tells her astonishing story - a tale of remarkable spirit, incredible experiences and family secrets.A much-loved presenter and respected actress, Lisa got her first onscreen role at the age of just 11. In the eighties she became a TV presenter on series like Splash and No Limits, interviewing the icons of the time and partying with the likes of George Michael, Robert Downey Junior and Michael Hutchence, before moving more firmly into comedy, appearing on sketch shows like, The Les Dennis Laughter Show, The Russ Abbott Show and her very own, self-titled, The Lisa Maxwell Show. She narrowly missed out on the part of Daphne in a little show called Frasier. And then for seven years played the part of The Bill's DI Sam Nixon, before joining Loose Women in 2009, where she quickly became an audience favourite.But behind the fun, glamour and onscreen success, is a south London girl, hiding the secret she's been taught never to talk about. An illegitimate child, brought up in Elephant and Castle, Lisa's life very nearly took a different path. Lucky for her, her dear old Nan had a kind heart, and in a last minute change of plan she was brought home to her grandparent's flat on the Rockingham Estate.With warmth, honesty and humour, Lisa takes us to the heart of the Elephant, revealing a home filled with love, laughter and drama. From having the drawer of an old chest for her bed to hiding from the Tally Man, waiting for her Nan outside the betting shop to dabbling in petty crime, discovering her dad was still alive, and always looking for a way to be in the lime light, Lisa has written a colourful memoir of life as a daughter, a granddaughter, a mother, and an actress.
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Lisa Maxwell
Not that Kinda Girl
A Story of Secrets, Longing and Laughter
Dedication
For Paul and Beau
Contents
Dedication
Introduction: Down at the Duke
1 Meet the Family
2 Early Days at the Elephant
3 Italia Conti Girls
4 My Secret Shame
5 First Love
Photographic Insert I
6 Moving On
7 Down to the Wire
8 The Lisa Maxwell Show
9 Life in LA
10 Meltdown
11 Coming Home
12 Falling in Love
13 Beautiful Beau
Photographic Insert II
14 Being DI Sam Nixon
15 Running on Empty
16 As One Door Opens …
17 Father Unknown
18 Finally Me
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Copyright
About the Publisher
INTRODUCTION
Down at the Duke
As I walked towards the Duke of Sutherland in Walworth I could hear Nan’s voice belting out one of her favourite songs:
‘I’d like to be good …
And I know that I should …
I’m just not that kind of a girl …’
Just hearing her voice gave me a warm feeling. I’d always loved these words, because they’re funny and so familiar to me, from my earliest memories. As I pushed the heavy pub door open she was still at the piano, her left hand vamping a rhythm without moving across the keyboard, her right picking out the tune. She reached the last two lines:
‘Old Tommy Tucker …
Everyone knows he’s a dirty old … fella!’
The pub erupted in cheers and laughter, even though everyone there had heard the song before. I made my way through the fuggy, crowded bar, inhaling cigarette smoke and beer fumes, to the upholstered bench seat where Nan always sat with Grandad and their friends. She was basking in the applause and free drinks being sent across to their table.
‘Oh my Gawd, look who’s ’ere! Hide your wallet, Jim,’ she said when she spotted me.
‘I’m saying no, clear off out of here!’ Grandad would always say before I even had time to speak.
They were both laughing, and so were their friends.
I’d launch into my speech: ‘Guess what? I’ve seen these shoes in Grants in the Walworth Road, and they’ve only got one pair in my size. They were so nice, they said they’d put them by for me …’
As I wriggled myself in between them on the bench seat, I’d look at Nan.
‘You’d better speak to your grandad,’ she’d say, so I’d turn puppy-dog eyes on him.
‘Please, Grandad – they’re really nice,’ I’d tell him.
‘I bet they are,’ he’d say.
‘Please, Grandad, I won’t ask for anything else ever again!’
Huge guffaws from everyone round the table.
‘How much are they?’ he’d ask, already putting a hand in his pocket.
‘Only £14.99.’
‘Here’s fifteen nicker – clear off, that’s yer lot!’
I would skip out of the pub with the whole group smiling and watching me and, I imagine, thinking, ‘Aw, how could you resist her?’ Even though I was 16 I was tiny, slim and, because of my stage-school training, confident. I knew Nan and Grandad were proud of their little Lise whenever I went into the pub, they loved me – and I also knew, from an early age, that when Grandad had a few drinks inside him I could get anything out of him.
Nan, Grandad and Mum adored me. I lived with all three of them and I was the centre of their universes. I never went without anything; they spoiled me rotten. As far as Mum was concerned, nobody could ever point a finger at me and say I lacked anything. Except one big thing she was unable to give me: a father.
On my birth certificate there are two stark words, words branded on my soul: ‘Father Unknown’.
Today, with more than half of all babies born to unmarried couples according to the Office of National Statistics, the stigma of being illegitimate has pretty much gone. It’s a word you never hear now, and a good thing, too: it means illegal, beyond the law. That’s a terrible stamp to put on a child. I was born outside the law, and back then in the 1960s only 5 per cent of all babies did not have married parents.
My birth was something friends and family whispered about, hoping I wasn’t listening. A child born ‘out of wedlock’ was something to be ashamed of, the subject of gossip and innuendo: a stain on a family. This was something I was aware of from the very beginning. I always felt the love I was given was tainted with embarrassment and shame, a shame that has coloured my life in so many ways; it has affected my relationships, my work, everything. It’s a shadow that stretched long and deep and out of which I have only recently emerged into the sunshine.
Yes, I have always been bright and bubbly, funny, up for a laugh and a party, but the parties, the drinks and the laughter, everything was a way to keep on moving, to make sure I never stood still long enough to look deep inside myself. Finally, in the last few years, I have come off that merry-go-round and found a quiet, happy place in life where I can face up to myself and my story. I’ve come to terms with my birth; I know who I am. It’s been a long and at times difficult journey, but writing this book has also helped me find myself and lay to rest the ghosts that have haunted me.
CHAPTER 1
Meet the Family
I was only three years old, too small to see over the balcony outside our second-storey council flat at the Elephant and Castle, but there was a metal grille set into the brickwork that gave me a view of the estate below. While Nan tried to drag me back indoors, I was clinging to the bars, screaming and kicking hysterically. Below, I could see my mum getting into a minicab with a man in the back.
