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RADIO TIMES, 9 June 1990
Sunday is my one day off, although it's not completely free because I have to learn my lines. Breakfast is a fry-up of eggs, bacon, and tomatoes, cooked by my husband Paul. I'd like to have fried bread, but he won't let me.
We've been together for four years, but we only got married in March -- on the fourth anniversary of the day we met in our local pub in central London. Being married has made a huge difference, it's given me an inner peace.
If I'm up early enough, I go to morning service. Then I come back and listen to The Archers omnibus. That's a must. While it's on I'll bath our pet cockatiel, Little Henry. We've given him an identity crisis, because he's actually a girl.
After The Archers, I sit down and learn all my lines for the following week. I've actually looked at them on Saturday night, so it doesn't take long, unless Pauline's doing more than usual. I'm very fond of her, but I do feel sorry for her. She should have a Sunday like mine.
At about one o'clock, we go to our local, just round the corner from our flat in Marylebone. I adore this area because it's villagey and people look after each other. I came here in 1974 because I don't drive (I failed my test six times!) and I wanted somewhere central.
Sunday lunchtimes are very special. There's a group of us who always sit at the same table and talk nineteen to the dozen [talk a blue streak]. We're a mixed bunch -- my friend Mireille is an agent for artists and illustrators, Karen is a beautician, May runs a pub, Charlie is a theatrical manager. Then there are two concierges, a printer and, of course, Paul, who's a carpet-fitter.
My parents were in the licensed trade -- they had a pub with a restaurant, so I still sometimes find myself picking up empty glasses! Until 1974, I'd never had my own front door because we always lived over the premises. That's why my own home is so important to me. It's only a flat, but the patio's our pride and joy.
In the afternoon, we go home to a big roast, read the papers and fall asleep. Later on I'll do the washing. My friends were very amused when I first said I was going to play the manager of a launderette because I've got a mania for washing.
Sunday is the only evening that I don't try to persuade Paul to go out for a curry. Every other day, I get back from Elstree at about seven and either Paul cooks supper, or we go to the Indian restaurant up the road. Once I've eaten, and read a bit of my book, I'm ready for bed.
Wendy Richard / Nicki Household