Relative Values: ‘I could do worse than have Damian Lewis as a son in law’

Because of Dad’s job in the diplomatic service, home was wherever he happened to be posted — Norway, Tanzania, London, Paris. I’m sure some kids would have found that unsettling, but I thought it was wonderfully exciting. And it taught me a valuable lesson… different cultures do things in different ways, and there is no such thing as normal.

My earliest memories are of Africa and the countless hours spent hanging out with my parents. Dad only worked until 1pm, so he’d then come home to do Dad stuff, like fix my bicycle or tell me stories. If there was anything that needed doing, people would come to see him. Nothing terrified him and nothing bad could happen to me when I was with him.

I’d hate to think I’ve ended up marrying a version of my father — that would just be a bit too Greek! — but there are definite similarities between Damian [her husband, the actor Damian Lewis] and Dad. Damian is an alpha male; he looks after me. And like Dad, he’s got a great sense of humour. Dad still takes the piss out of me.

“In Africa I sort of knew Dad’s job wasn’t always easy… he saw his fair share of fighting and revolution. He saw dead bodies in the street”

In Africa I sort of knew Dad’s job wasn’t always easy… he saw his fair share of conflict and fighting and revolution. He saw dead bodies in the street. I never witnessed it myself, but I knew it was there. I think that gave Dad a tremendous sense of empathy. As far as he was concerned, we were all connected and we should all feel responsible for one another.

That certainly affected me. Even today I find it difficult to watch violence on screen, especially when it involves children. I walked out of Blood Diamond after about three seconds and I never got to the end of 12 Years a Slave. I can remember Damian looking across at me as I left the cinema, saying: “What on earth’s wrong with you?” Of course, these films need to be made, but, sorry, I don’t have any protection against that kind of stuff.

I don’t want to give the impression that Dad filled my head with worry and neuroses; he didn’t. Mum and Dad are actually the two most un-neurotic people you could ever meet. They always allowed me, my brother, Jon, and sister, Cati, to be ourselves.

My attitude to ageing is all down to them. Never once did my mother comment on how another woman looked… she never said I was too skinny or too fat. Things like that just didn’t f***ing matter! So many women are obsessed with their age and how they look. I just think: “Sorry, love, but you’ve obviously got too much time on your hands.” Thanks to Mum and Dad, my self-worth is not tied up with how old I am or how much I weigh!

The only thing Dad did have a slight problem with was boyfriends. There was one I brought back — he shall remain nameless — and Dad talked to him for 10 minutes or so. Later, he just took me to one side and said: “You must be f***ing joking!”

He knew Damian was different. I must say I was surprised when he asked for Dad’s permission to marry me. Apparently, the only question Dad asked him was: “Where are you standing?” Dad then directed him to a particular jewellers and said: “That shop sells the best diamonds in the city. Good luck!” They get on very well.

This is the longest I’ve talked about Dad for years. And it’s reminded me just how much respect I have for him. He’s lived an incredible life and that’s helped him keep a sense of perspective when things have got a bit crazy for me. Being married to the bloke out of Homeland means you automatically become news, but Dad has seen how the media makes up stories about the Iraq war. Is he really bothered if they make up stories about me taking photographs in the White House loo? He doesn’t give a toss!

                                Helen, aged six months, with Iain in Oslo, where he was posted at the time

Iain, 74

I did a lot of travelling when I was young. Cameroon, Chad, Nigeria, up and down the Sahara, Gabon, and the Central African Republic. It was during that period that I met my good lady wife, Ann. We got married when we were both 28, and Ann was already pregnant. Don’t look so shocked! I’m from Glasgow and it’s a Scottish tradition that you make sure a woman can bear children before you marry her. Helen was born in St Mary’s in Paddington, the same hospital where she gave birth herself. Mind you, she was in the private bit!

Ann knew I was a diplomat and she was keen to travel. Our first flat overlooked a fjord in Norway, and Helen would regularly appear at the McCrory cocktail parties. She was a right little social climber… she’d climb out of her cot so she could come and talk to all the VIPs from the embassy.

Helen must have been about four when we went over to Africa, and that seemed to set her free. She swam every day, ran around, climbed trees. She was an extremely lively child, agile, well co-ordinated, very clever. She was never a nasty kid… never sneaky or mean or put anyone down. She says that was down to Ann and I, and maybe it was. We always felt that our job as parents was to lead in a positive way; I didn’t see any point in knocking a child back or dashing their hopes.

When she told us she wanted to go to drama school, I said: “Yes, that’s fine, but there’s a condition: I want you to get the qualifications that will take you to university. I want you to have a Plan B.” I didn’t have a problem with her being an actress, but I hated the idea of her being an out-of-work actress. I needn’t have worried… the first time I saw her at the National she had the whole room in tears. Her voice went straight into their hearts!

I watch most things Helen is in, but I can’t sit through the violent, upsetting stuff. It’s the same with Damian; I never watched Homeland. I’ve seen enough terrorism. I’ve travelled to the middle of the ocean to quash a mutiny and I have fed starving kids… I don’t need to watch it on TV.

Keeping that part of my life out of the family home could be hard at times, but no more difficult than a surgeon walking away from a dead body and playing golf. If I was in Northern Ireland dealing with the top-secret fallout from Bobby Sands, I could hardly come home and discuss it at the dinner table, could I? Work was completely separate from home.

In many ways, it’s the same for Helen. She gets invited to the White House and she’s in a Martin Scorsese film or she’s on TV, but she never, ever acts like a “star”. She never brings fame into the house. Yes, she’s married to Damian Lewis and he is who he is, but all I see is a brilliant husband and a father who’s totally devoted to his family. As soon as I met him, I knew he was right. He’s an old-fashioned romantic at heart and I know he’ll always look after my girl. What more could a father wish for?

Helen McCrory stars in Tommy Cooper: Not Like That, Like This, on Monday April 21 on ITV at 9pm