It’s “Ged-Roych”, thank you. My dad was incredibly exacting – he would have made you say “Gied-Ri-oi-ch”, but I’ll accept a close variation, as long as it’s not Gled Roy, Gee Drock, Guide Rioch or Good Rick. And definitely not Melanie Glad Rags, please.
I am the youngest of four siblings, plus two foster brothers for a few years. It was a big, lively household, so it took something quite significant to get noticed. I put on guinea pig circus shows with my beloved and very lardy Coca and Cola. I tried to get them to trot round – it didn’t work at all.
I’ve inherited my father’s grit and my mother’s softer edges. Dad survived Siberia from the age of 11 to 14. Mum was a nurse and softened him down. There was a lot of laughter from both of them: 1970s Leatherhead was full of that.
I am pretty chipper most of the time, but my husband and kids witness my darker side. My sister describes it as the Hatchet Face, primarily triggered by camping trips, tiredness and the menopause. Strong CBD patches on my lower back are easing the grumpiness. Those, and bollock-cold swims in Hillingdon Lido.
Sue Perkins stood out like a beacon at Cambridge. I first met her at a Footlights try-out night in 1988 in this dingy dungeon with a sticky floor. It was bloke after bloke after bloke performing, then this chain-smoking girl with spiky hair, a red jumper and Dr Martens appeared with no material and brought the house down. We became good friends before thinking about working together.
Light Lunch brought national TV exposure. The audience was breastfeeding mothers, kids in bed bunking off school, students and prisoners. I always wrote back to the prisoners, quietly wondering, “When are you going to be released?” while politely declining their marriage proposals.
When we started The Great British Bake Off, I thought it would be career suicide. Sue and I spent the whole first series saying, “This is a disaster. What have we done?”
My husband Ben is the comedian of the family. Annoyingly, he doesn’t even realise it.
Sue and I once stole Paul Hollywood’s car. We teased him a lot and one lunchtime drove his (borrowed) car down the driveway and into a little copse. Paul just about kept it together, but his slightly twitching jaw betrayed his true feelings. He laughed when we came clean but hugged us a little too tightly. Sorry Paul.
There will always be a flicker of chemistry between me and Dermot O’Leary. Maybe not from his side, but certainly from mine. We had a brief encounter at a wrap party many decades ago. I bumped into him the other day in an ITV corridor. What can I say? He’s still got it.
If everything goes pear-shaped in the showbiz world, Perks and I have talked about opening a B&B. We’d call it Sea Spray 2, in honour of the place we used to stay in when in Brighton in the 90s while testing out our material before the Edinburgh Fringe. I’ll do the gloss, she can do the graft.
My whole career has been random, and quite surreal. “She got away with it” – that’s what’ll be on my gravestone.
Mel Giedroyc and Martin Clunes Explore Britain by the Book airs on 6 September on ITV1 and ITVX
