The daughter of a Scottish diplomat and a Welsh physiotherapist, McCrory, 47, went to Queenswood boarding school in Hertfordshire and the Drama Centre in London. She lives in north London with her husband, the actor Damian Lewis, and their children, Manon, 9, and Gulliver, 8.
I get up at about 6.30, then wake the kids and get breakfast ready either with the nanny or my other nanny — Damian. He’s just back from his other job, acting, and once we find a uniform that suits him, he’s going to adapt quite well.
I tend to put on whatever isn’t too crumpled on the floor, and like to pop a hat on because I do look like Janis Joplin left overnight in the tumble dryer. Breakfast is an apple and any yoghurt the kids have left in the bottom of the bowl. I’ve tried to be more organised; I’ve even gone through phases of setting the table the night before, like some strange B&B. But I’ll still have to run up and down the stairs shouting: “Have you got your tie? Have you cleaned your teeth? Oh well, eat a mint!”
Acting work is feast or famine, and right now Damian and I are both at home, which is lovely. We’ve just done our house up. Well, we’ve put in new plumbing and electrics before we burn the street down. We’ve been here for 10 years and there are still lightbulbs hanging from wires. But I’m so uninterested. I spent three weeks emailing paint and wallpaper samples to Damian on set and it left me brain-numb. I have patience in bounds when it comes to family and work, but care less about the house.
Continue reading A Life in the Day: Helen McCrory, actress
