A Secret History of Ambridge
Truth, turmoil, gossip and lies
BY JULIE BECKETT
BBC Books, an imprint of Ebury Publishing One Embassy Gardens, 8 Viaduct Gdns, Nine Elms, London sw 11 7bw
BBC Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com
Copyright © Julie Beckett 2024
Julie Beckett has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner for the purpose of training artificial intelligence technologies or systems. In accordance with Article 4(3) of the DSM Directive 2019/790, Penguin Random House expressly reserves this work from the text and data mining exception.
First published by BBC Books in 2024
www.penguin.co.uk
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
isbn 9781785948879
Typeset in 11.75/18.2pt Sabon MT Pro by Jouve (UK), Milton Keynes Printed and bound in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, Elcograf S.p.A.
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Penguin Random House is committed to a sustainable future for our business, our readers and our planet. This book is made from Forest Stewardship Council® certified paper.
With grateful thanks to every Archers production team and all the writers past and present, who created Ambridge and all these stories. And to the actors and studio technicians who brought them so vividly to life.
In memory of Adrian Flynn, Archers writer and friend.
FAMILY TREE
John Benjamin (Ben) 27.5.1898–2.8.1972
John (Jack) 17.12.1922–12.1.1972
John Archer m Phoebe
Simone Delamain 1900–1929
Margaret (Peggy) Perkins b. 13.11.1924
Frank 1.6.1900–30.5.1957
Philip Walter 23.4.1928–12.1.2010
Laura Wilson 29.8.1911–14.2.1985
(1)
Grace Fairbrother
2.4.1929–22.9.1955
Jennifer 7.1.1945 –22.1.2023
Ian Craig b. 04.09.1970
m
m (2) m (2)
Jack Woolley 19.7.1919–1.1.2014
(2)
Jill Patterson b. 3.10.1930
Roger Travers-Macy b. 9.3.1944 div. Feb 1976
Adam b. 22.6.1967 (by Paddy Redmond)
Alexander b. 23.09.2019
Katherine Victoria (Kate) b. 30.9.1977
Phoebe b. 28.6.1998 (by Roy Tucker)
(1) m (1)
Lilian b. 8.7.1947
m Simon Gerrard Deborah b. 24.12.1970 div. 5.2003
Brian Aldridge b. 20.11.1943
Ruairi Donovan b. 14.11.02 (with Siobhan Hathaway)
m Lucas Madikane b. 1972
Noluthando Grace b. 19.1.2001
Sipho b. 26.7.2007
(2)
Lester Nicholson 7.6.1946–18.3.1970
Ralph Bellamy
26.2.1925–18.1.1980
James Rodney Dominic b. 30.3.1973
Leonie (Snell) b. 7.8.2011
Mungo b. 21.8.2014
Alice Margaret b. 29.9.1988
m Christopher Carter b. 22.6.1988
Martha Jasmine b. 9.3.2021
Daniel 15.10.1896–23.4.1986
m
Doris 11.7.1900–27.10.1980
Christine b. 21.12.1931
m (1)
Anthony William Daniel (Tony) b. 16.2.1951
m
Pat Lewis
b. 10.1.1952
m (2)
Shula Mary b. 8.8.1958 m (1)
Mark Hebden
20.2.1955–17.2.1994
Daniel Mark Archer b. 14.11.1994
John Daniel
31.12.1975–25.2.1998
Henry b. 2.1.2011
William Forrest m Lisa
Edward George (Ted) 10.1.1902–17.1.1920
Paul Johnson
10.1.1931–10.5.1978
Peter (adopted) b. 5.9.1965
George Barford
24.10.1928–17.1.2005
Kenton Edward b. 8.8.1958 m (1) Melanie Hardiment b. 12.2.1972 div. 2006
Meriel b. 11.5.2001
Helen b. 16.4.1979
Mary b. b. div.
m (2) Alistair Lloyd b. 14.9.1962
Tom b. 25.2.1981
John Anthony (Jack) b. 21.5.2016 (with Rob Titchener)
m Natasha b. 8.3.1982
b. m
m (2) Jolene
Thomas William (Tom) 20.10.1910–5.11.1998
m
Prudence Harris (Pru) 27.7.1921–11.11.1998
David Thomas b. 18.9.1959
m
Ruth Pritchard b. 16.6.1968
William 31.12.1975–
Elizabeth b. 21.4.1967
m
Nigel Pargetter 8.6.1959–2.1.2011
Lily Rosalind b. 12.12.1999
Philippa Rose (Pip) b. 17.2.1993
Rosie Ruth Grace b. 23.07.18
Nova b. 22.7.2022 Seren b. 22.7.2022
Frederick Hugo b. 12.12.1999
Joshua Matthew (Josh) b. 13.9.1997
Benjamin David b. 15.3.2002
THE GRUNDY FAMILY TREE
Neil Carter b. 22.5.1957
Susan b. 10.10.1963
George Grundy
Joe 18.9.1921–10.10.2019
Alfred ‘Alf’ b. 13.11.1944
Eddie George b. 15.3.1951
William b. 9.2.1983
Christopher Carter b. 22.6.1988
m Clarice ‘Clarrie’ b. 12.5.1953 m m
m Alice Margaret b. 29.9.1988
Martha Jasmine b. 9.3.2021
m (1) Emma Louise b. 7.8.1984
Andrew m Susan 6.3.1923–21.3.69
Ed b. 28.9.1984
Keira b. 6.4.2011
George b. 7.4.2005
m(2) Nic 1980–23.2.2018
Jake b. 2004 Mia b. 20.1.2006
Poppy b. 20.9.2013
CONTENTS
Archers Family Tree vi
Grundy Family Tree viii
Foreword xi
Prologue 1
Chapter 1: Brookfield 7
Chapter 2: Blossom Hill Cottage 51
Chapter 3: Bridge Farm 87
Chapter 4: Lower Loxley 127
Chapter 5: The Village Shop 139
Chapter 6: Ambridge Hall/Dower House 153
Chapter 7: Home Farm 173
Chapter 8: Grange Farm 201
Epilogue 239
Acknowledgements 241
FOREWORD
My job is the Editor of The Archers. What does that entail? Well, imagine a kitchen in a renowned restaurant – perhaps at Grey Gables. I sometimes think I am part of the team working there, preparing a very special dish of the day six days a week, week in week out. The restaurant has the same ethos it had when it was founded over seventy years ago. All the culinary skills have been handed down faithfully, generation by generation (I believe I am the eighth Editor, and most of us have been deeply schooled in The Archers before we get the nod). If you don’t believe in the food and the way we prepare it, you are unlikely to thrive in this kitchen. The other extraordinary thing about this restaurant is that we have a fiercely loyal clientele of somewhere just shy of five million people every week, and they know the menu backwards, forwards, sideways and probably upside down. Or they think they do . . .
This book is a view of The Archers from inside the
kitchen. It won’t tell you how we set about making The Archers – that, I am afraid, is a closely guarded secret that is too messy and raucous for us to divulge – but it is a view of what makes The Archers tick. To depart from my metaphor, The Archers isn’t a fabulous Grey Gables-prepared meal, but an endlessly intersecting web of characters and stories in a village that is so minutely chronicled it might as well be real (you wouldn’t believe the altercations the team had as to exactly where the ten acres of Grange farm that Oliver Sterling was selling were located!). Front and centre are the characters. They are characters to die for: whoever came up with the Grundys, the Susan Carters, the Lynda Snells, the warring Aldridges et al, is a genius, although I should add that everything you hear on air is a brilliant cocktail of what our fabulous cast and writing and storylining team can do together. The starting point of nearly every story we come up with is prefaced by the question: ‘Would David (or whoever) do that? Because back in 1995 he said exactly the opposite . . .’ This book aims to tell you the amazing backstory of the places and characters you love to listen to. It tries to wrestle with the age-old questions – what makes them tick, and what has made them who they are?
There is no better person to guide us through this forest than Julie Beckett. Julie is The Archers insider’s
insider. Like most of us Archers grafters, Julie began as a listener. She then became a schools producer at the BBC, and later landed a job as a producer on the show. In short order she became the show’s deputy editor, and stayed in this role until she left the BBC nearly ten years ago. Truth be told however, you never really leave The Archers’ fond embrace. Since leaving, Julie has produced, directed, storylined and written for the show on a freelance basis. If I want some advice on the back story of The Archers, I invariably pick up the phone to Julie. It was an obvious choice to ask Julie to wander round the lanes and footpaths of Ambridge and do some digging and prying into how it got to be where it is now, house by house, character by favourite character.
I hope you enjoy the book as much as I have enjoyed working on it with Julie.
Jeremy Howe Editor, The Archers
PROLOGUE
ON LAKEY HILL
Oh, that view. Come up here, and your troubles fade away.
You’ve chosen a good time for a walk. It’s a stiff climb, but it’s worth it today. So clear. Everything laid out at your feet like a map, the whole of Ambridge and beyond. The distinctive triangular Green, the shop . . . and if you look carefully, there’s the phone box. Perfectly placed near the pond. Quietly sitting there, even though it’s lost its usefulness. When it was an actual phone, there always used to be fresh flowers in there, thanks to Martha from the shop. She never failed to keep it beautiful. It had the cleanest windows in Borsetshire. How well do you know the village? We’re looking south. Nearest to us, that bigger building on the Green is the village hall, which of course used to be the primary school. All Phil and Jill’s children went there. From here, you can see that it was a village school. You
can still see the building where the outside toilets were, in the playground. A bit further along, there’s the Bull, with its smart new sign. It’s surprising that the church isn’t on the Green, but you can see the tower, just the other side of the Am. St Stephen’s is a big church for a village the size of Ambridge. Someone wealthy must have endowed it. It’s got a ring of eight bells. That’s unusual.
Honeysuckle Cottage, across the Green from the Bull, that’s where Adam and Ian live now. It was in good condition when they bought it; Tim and Siobhan Hathaway had it done up. He was the doctor, and I’m sure you’ve heard of her. They extended it, did a lot of renovations. Walter Gabriel lived there before them, and his son, Nelson, for a while. I can only imagine what it was like, the two of them sharing a house! It was a basic village cottage then, with open fires and a range in the kitchen. Rag rugs on the floor. Same goes for Woodbine Cottage, the other side of the Green, where Harrison and Fallon live. The first thing you notice there is the garden. That was home to Bert and Freda Fry, gardeners to their bones. You can still see the roses they planted, and their bulbs come up every year. Clarrie Grundy lived there too, when she was a Larkin, with her mum and dad. Then there’s the little close, all excouncil houses. Classic post-war style. Susan and Neil lived at Number One The Green for ages.
It’s the heart of the village, just as village greens are across the country. Most times of the day there are people coming and going from the shop or the pub, or chatting on a bench while the children play. The years passing bring changes. There are fewer and fewer residents who feel the loss of the school or the Cat and Fiddle, the other pub. The Green comes alive on Bonfire Night, or when the village fete takes it all over. On those days you can hear the Hollerton Silver Band from right up here. And when the Christmas lights go on – that’s such a nice tradition. House by house around the Green for the grand switch-on, with everyone doing their best to make their house or cottage look beautiful. The Bull surpasses itself every year, if Kenton has his way.
I don’t live in Ambridge either. But I know it very well. I’ve visited regularly, since I was a child. This is Lakey Hill, but I’m sure you know that from your map. It’s Brookfield land, but they’re more than happy to give access to the walkers and the ramblers. You’ve come at just the right time. The hawthorn is glorious in the spring. I stand up here sometimes breathing in the scent of the May blossom. And the birdsong, it’s worth coming up here just for that, at this time of year. There’s been a bit of archaeology up here from time to time. They’ve found signs of a prehistoric community. I’m pretty sure it was a hillfort. That’s my theory,
anyway. I love a bit of pre-history. Imagine – the first Ambridge villagers, living up here and down there in their self-build roundhouses. Not that much different probably, from the people here now. Lives full of drama, being annoyed with the neighbours, that sort of thing. Their own versions of Bonfire Night to bring in the winter, and gatherings with games and good things to eat to enjoy the summer, just like the fete. Petitions and meetings, gossip and tragedy, adultery and love. I bet there was a David Archer, a Joe Grundy, a Lynda Snell, living in the houses up here, hearing the same birdsong, seeing the same May blossom. Some things don’t change.
Your best bet is to go and have a look round. You never know who you’re going to bump into. Maybe start at that beautiful farm, just across the river. That’s Brookfield. You can see it’s an old farmhouse – red brick, like most of the farms in Borsetshire, but with the wooden framing on the gable end that takes it back that bit further. The Archers live there, David and Ruth. Well, you know that, I expect. They’re the third generation of Archers at Brookfield. Next to the farmhouse in the yard, that’s Rickyard Cottage – someone told me it’s standing where the hayricks used to be. Like the cottages round the Green, places are linked to the things that happen in them, the people who lived in
them. Holding on to the history. A bit of unseen archaeology, as it were.
There’s Pip, coming out of the cottage. Ruth and David’s eldest. They’ve got the two boys as well, Josh and Ben. All grown up now, and making their way. Pip’s up early, she must be glad the mornings are a bit lighter. Her daughter Rosie’s still asleep, I expect. Pip’ll be off to get the cows in. She’s not given her parents an easy ride. She was all over the place in her early teens, everyone was talking about her. Susan in the shop, she’s a mine of information if you want to know more. Unsuitable boyfriends, accidental baby . . . Pip lived down there in Rickyard with her little one’s dad for ages, but they weren’t supposed to be a couple. Not sure how that worked in a tiny place like that. Then, all of sudden, she found a new partner and a spring in her step. I’m glad, she seems much happier.
Tell you what. I’ll walk down with you. Give you a bit of a tour. Show you the sights, let people tell you their stories. I’ve been visiting for so long, and I soon discovered that people in the village talk to me. They open up to a stranger. Sometimes they don’t even notice me, sometimes they’ll sit and chat for ages. I’ve listened to their stories for years and years. They tell me how they felt, why they did what they did. There’s secrets in their past that explain so much. Once in a
while, they tell me something no-one else knows. Who they loved, or hated. What the places mean to them, why this village is so important to so many people. And you don’t have to take my word for it. We can drop into the shop and find out what Susan thinks too, over the counter. She’d be the first to tell you that she’s no gossip. But information, she has that in bucketloads, and she’s not afraid to pass it on. We can nip into the Bull as well. There’s usually someone interesting in there, chatting in a quiet corner. Me and Ambridge, we go back a long way. Let’s go and explore.
CHAPTER 1 BROOKFIELD
Idon’t know about you , but I love a farmyard.
There’s something about them, timeless places. You can see their history, how they evolved. There are buildings here that Dan and Doris knew well, along with later developments from Phil and Jill. You can hear the cows now, but even when David took over the farm there were pigs too, and sheep. It was Dan’s vision – a proper mixed farm – until quite recently.
I’ve had more than one good chat with David out here, while he was getting on with the job in hand. Same with Ruth, and Phil and Jill. That’s the new milking parlour on the far side, opposite the farmhouse, the latest addition. Everyone loves it. You get the cows through fast, and there’s a remarkably efficient slurry management system. It couldn’t be more different from the first parlour at Brookfield – so portable that Dan lent it to a local farmer who was broke for a while. The cows stood in a barn before that, and
when the machine came along, it just replaced the farmer on a milking stool. Or the milkmaid, if you want to go all Thomas Hardy. A tiny parlour then, nothing more than a roof over your head in the yard. Four clusters to pump out the milk, no pit to stand in to save your back. Churns that were picked up from the farm gate by the dairy . . . I can hear them being rolled across the yard now. Cats and kittens under your feet for the spilled milk. And now – well, you should ask Pip to show you round the new setup here. Just amazing. It’s a different world from the one Dan and Doris Archer lived in.
The yard’s neat as a pin these days. Very picturesque. It’s not just a farm any more, it’s an events venue. Diversification has been the thing for decades. I’ve been to a few parties in the barn. I heard them reading Lark Rise a while ago; there’s a nice atmosphere. It’s all a bit too tidy out here for me, though. They replaced some of the old broken propped-up gates when they did up the barn. Got rid of the fraying twine looped over gateposts. I’m not sure what I think about a ‘chocolate box’ farm, but I suppose you have to be pragmatic if you’re doing fairytale weddings. The other big difference from the earlier days is the tractors. That one in the barn, it’s got a sound system, a comfortable seat, a heater. When you think back, to the farmhands bouncing around on a cold metal seat