My wife, Jane, always wanted three kids, so we had three. If she’d wanted one, we’d have had one; if she wanted ten, I’d have thought about it — then we’d have had ten. I’d always been keen on the idea of having kids and I’m sure that was one of the things she picked up on when she was evaluating if I might be a long-term partner.
Jane is nine years younger than me but she’d been in the showbiz environment — writing a column in the tabloids — for a couple of years when we met. Crucially, Jane seemed far more grown up and capable of navigating that world than I was. With me, it was all a façade. I was a working-class
