Pam Ayres

What was the next good thing to happen [after Radio Oxford]?

Well the the next thing really was on opportunity Knox, yes ... I was on it four times altogether ... I sort of got curious and I thought, I'll go along to this audition and see what a professional bunch of people think of me act. And I went along and they were very enthusiastic. I was amazed. And so I went on the show at the end of 75. And I won it

Could you look after yourself on a desert island?

Well, I'm not much of a cook ... I hope a lot of cocoanuts would drop in the vicinity because I'm not confident that I could cook a lot, and I certainly couldn't kill anything.

What would you say has been fundamental to your success?

Well, I'm clearly not in that category, am I? I'm not a scholarly poet at all. I think I've got the common touch. I write about things that I hope people will identify with. Some of my most successful poems for instance They Should Have Asked My Husband is about the husband who knows it all and it doesn't matter. What you talk about is going to come in and monopolise the conversation. And I'm not saying my husband's like that because he's not, but everybody knows somebody like that. And I search for those subjects. There's always a temptation to think that because something looks simple and it goes to tum ta-tum ta-tum, ta-tum, ta-tum, ta-tum, that it's easy, but actually it isn't because you've got to find the right word that says exactly what you want to convey and you've got to get the stress on the right syllable. And I find it like a fascinating jigsaw to put it together. And the best thing is to get a big laugh at the end. And that's the most difficult thing, because you don't want it to peter out. You want it to have a, you know, finish with a big bang at the end.

In writing [Woodland Burial], did you have an aim for it to be a public bit of work that would be used a lot? What was the thinking behind it?

Woodland Burial is a short poem I wrote after I walked through the church in the village near where I used to live called Preston. And it was a January day and it was grey and the churchyard was in the shadow of the church and and the gravestones were all leaning over at drunken angles and I thought I don't want to go here, it's dead, you know, in all sorts of ways. I thought I'd rather go into a forest where something gorgeous can grow out of what used to be me. I'm a great believer in compost eats, and I thought it would be nice if the bits and pieces that made my body were utilized by something as gorgeous as a tree, and birds would live in it, and insects, and things would make use of it. I agonised over whether to put it in my book, because it is so serious. It's about death. I was astounded really and delighted with the response because so many natural burial grounds approached me and said, Do you mind if we use this you know, put it on the wall? And I've been to lots of natural burial grounds where they've got it in inscribed on plaques on the wall, and that's a very nice feeling.

Tell me a little bit about your family background.

My dad was in the Grenadier Guards. He signed up. He lied about his age and joined up. I admired him. I think he was very um traumatized by what he'd seen. He had bad um temper explosions which scared us all. But I understand it now. I understand the the terrible things he saw. I don't think you just get over it and walk away. When dad came out of the army, he went to work for the Southern Electricity Board as a linesman. He used to shin up the poles and fiddle with the wires at the top. My mum was a very bright girl. She was offered a scholarship, but her mother was widowed, so her mother used to take in washing and she died of TB. So they really had a terrible life of poverty. But they were very loving. And she went into domestic service in Cromwell Road in London. She was offered a scholarship to a grammar school, but she couldn't take it up because they couldn't afford whatever you had to buy, the uniform or something. But she was bright. She loved English. She could always advise me on the right word to use or if I didn't know what a word meant.

Your father was pretty strict and had these rages – did you want to do things that he wouldn't allow you to do?

Yeah, I mean I don't want to paint a black picture of my dad. I loved him dearly. He was funny, he was strong, he looked after us, he grew all these vegetables. You know, we're all still going strong. And I think that they laid a foundation of good health for us at a time when nothing was known about what was a good diet. But we had loads of rabbit and loads of vegetables and loads of fruit. So I loved him dearly. He was funny, but he did have these extraordinary rages. And I know I had a boyfriend I was absolutely nuts about. And one night he brought me home in his car half past ten or something. He brought me home from the dance. And I heard the window clang open of him. That's bedroom. And he bawled out, he said, Pam, is that you? And I wound the window down. I said, Yeah. And he said, Well, bloody well, come on in, then And I was so shamed, and I got out of the car and slunk indoors, and and that was the moment when I decided I was going to leave home.

When you went into the RAF, how did it suit you in general?

The great glorious thing from my point of view about the Air Force was that it gave you the opportunities to perform. There were all kinds of opportunities to get on a stage, whether it was a choir or an amateur dramatic group or a folk club, you know, and I was longing to be a performer. I was very unpolished, but I knew where I wanted to be. I was at RAF Brampton, and I'd gone along with a boyfriend to watch a rehearsal. And the girl who was playing the lead hadn't turned up. And they asked me if I'd read in. And I read in, and they all said, Oh my god, what a marvellous accent. And then the girl dropped out completely. And I stepped in at 10 days' notice and I took on the part and I learned it. And everybody was thrilled. And at the end of the performance, the squadron leader, it was like God, got up on the stage and said, I'd like you all to know that Ayers has stood in at 10 days' notice and learned the entire thing. And I do give her a hearty round of applause. And the next morning I was summoned to the group captain's office, who was the CO of the whole place. And he said, I've never laughed so much in all my life. And he said, What are your ambitions in the Air Force? And I said, I want to go to Singapore, I want to go to the Far East. And within weeks, I was posted. So it could have been a coincidence, but I don't know. Perhaps he put in a good word for me. And I used to work with this man, and he'd been posted to Singapore. And he used to say, Oh, God, that's living. You get out there, that's living. This is just existing.

After your big break on TV, what did you want for yourself at that point? What was your plan?

I didn't have a plan at all. I thought they know best. I knew I loved writing my kind of material. I knew I loved performing it. I was terrified. It always terrified me, but I wanted to do it. You know, you go into that kind of environment, a television environment, and think, well, they know best what's best for me. And did they know best? I don't think so. No, I I don't think so. I was very sort of categorized as some sort of rustic idiot, you know, leaning over a five-bar gate saying, Oh, and I went along with it to a certain extent. Purely financially, it was ecstasy time because I had money, I was able to buy a house, I bought a little house which cost £11,500, a little semi-detached house. And you know, that was beyond my wildest dreams. I bought an MGB GT, the sports car of my dreams. So that was fantastic. On the other hand, I felt like I'd lost control.