My Saturday afternoons begin with a quiet prayer of thanks for a lockdown legacy. In pre-pandemic days, I boarded a train for Manchester at two, armed with briefing notes for the following morning’s Sunday, which is broadcast from the BBC’s Salford studios. But when Covid chaos kept us all at home, the crisis inspired innovation; Auntie BBC delivered a swish bit of kit which allowed me to address the nation live from my basement study.
At first it was terrifying; the team of studio managers and producers who provide reassurance remained over 200 miles away in Salford, while I, in my dressing grown, felt utterly alone in Stockwell. The dog, rustling through discarded scripts in search of a warm foot to snooze on, made some very audible contributions. But overall, it worked so smoothly that even now I use my kit for my pre-recorded interviews when I do my Saturday prep; those long hours watching my life being stolen by unfinished works on the West Coast Mainline are a distant memory.
