My mum and dad didn’t have a rose bush or a daffodil in the garden because they’d all been knocked over by footballs and cricket balls. One of the reasons I became a cricketer was because of the support and energy they gave me. My dad had a silversmith’s business – in a bit of a grimy old workshop – so he was busy. But he never said “I can’t be bothered”.
Mum wouldn’t suffer fools but she was kind and stood up for the underdog. She was also a good bowler and a decent centre-half. But she passed away from leukaemia when I was about 16. I came home one day and they said: “Your mum’s got a year to live.” The house just went cold. I went off the rails for a while, left the sport out and got a motorbike. I had been all right at school, then I was expelled. Everything became a bit pointless. Thankfully, my dad dragged me out of it and tried to point me down the right path.
My dad passed away last year. He was 88, so he’d had a good run. That put me at peace, actually. When my mum was poorly, I was shielded, which was right in a way but didn’t give me closure. I had a little chat with my dad when he was on his way out and one of the last things he said was “don’t be sad”. It meant a lot to me.
My dad was a cheeky chappy and I get my sense of humour from him. When we released his ashes at the crematorium, it was windy and they went all over us. Through the tears, I started laughing as we were dusting ourselves off. I had to stop for water later because it was like having cotton mouth. Dad would have been laughing his head off. I think that was his last little joke.
My brother Greg is four years older than me. Maybe I became quite a good sportsman because I had to play with all his mates. He looked after me and got me out of a few scrapes. He’s a lot more organised than me and went on to become a successful businessman. If he says we’re all going out to dinner, it’s booked and the cab comes on time. I’d be going: “Oh shit, how are we getting there?”
I’ve had three marriages, the first when I was about 18, probably because of my mum passing away. I was looking for someone to make me a bit of dinner perhaps. I’m sorry if that sounds sexist. Perhaps being a Test cricketer and family don’t mix. You’re away from home a lot and there’s the odd temptation. When I was playing, wives and girlfriends weren’t allowed on long tours. I remember I was in Australia once, just about to bat against some bloke bowling 90mph at my head, and my ex-wife phoned up saying the dishwasher had broken down. What the hell was I supposed to do about that?
I’ve got two daughters from different relationships. Obstacles were put in the way but I’m glad to say they have come back to me over the past four or five years. Ellie is 22 and Poppy is 18, so they are grown up now and can see that things weren’t necessarily what other people were saying they were. I’ve also got a stepdaughter, Alana, who is 18.
I kept going, looking for a bit of love. I finally found it with my Dawn. We’ve been together about 13 years. She’s the most honest – and loyal – woman I’ve met. And she’s a great friend. People said: “Crikey, why are you going down this route again?” But I always wanted a soulmate. I’m more measured now.
We’re both very sociable. One of the last things that my dad said to me was, “Son, you’re remembered for your parties”. We have good parties.
• Phil Tufnell’s autobiography, Where Am I? is published by Headline, £20
