Ooh! What a Lovely Pair Our Story (47 page)

We’ve always thought of our career as being a three-way relationship – between me, Dec and the audience. Ever since we’ve been on telly, we’ve prided ourselves on trying to understand our audience, and for something like this to happen was upsetting and maddening. We released statements apologizing, but that didn’t stop there being a feeding frenzy by the media – people were saying we should’ve been arrested and even gone to prison, they implied we’d lied in our statements when we attempted to reassure viewers that we had no knowledge of what had happened. ‘No smoke without fire’ was the phrase they most enjoyed trotting out but, worst of all, some people claimed we knew about the phone-line procedure but didn’t care and helped maximize the profit so we could take a cut of the phone revenue, which is just a downright lie.

In the autumn of 2007, on the way to Australia for
I’m a Celebrity
…, we stopped off in LA for some meetings. While we were out there, the National Television Awards were taking place back in London. We’ve always regarded the NTAs very highly – they’re voted for by the public so you’re able to get a real sense of what the audience is enjoying. Because of the timing, it was impossible not to see the NTAs as a big test – if the public had lost faith in us it would be made very clear; they just wouldn’t vote for us. Even our publicist, Simon Jones, was being told by the newspapers behind the scenes that the result would be an indication of whether or not the public thought we were guilty. The
Mirror
even ran a piece the very day of the awards saying we feared ‘a backlash from viewers’.

We told the NTAs that, unfortunately, we wouldn’t be able to attend the awards because of our American commitments, but that if we did win anything we would be available to do a live satellite link. They said they wouldn’t know anything for certain until four o’clock in the afternoon British time on the day, which was 8 a.m. in LA. Paul, our manager, promised he’d ring us from London as soon as he had any news. I set my alarm for seven thirty just to be sure I didn’t miss the call, but I needn’t have bothered, I was awake long before that – in fact I barely slept. Eight o’clock came and went, and the phone didn’t ring. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, minutes felt like hours and I was feeling increasingly anxious. Then, just before quarter past, the phone rang; it was Paul. I couldn’t really deal with small talk, so I just asked him outright, ‘Have you heard anything?’ My heart was beating and my stomach was in knots.

‘You’d better get dressed,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a satellite link to do.’

The joy and the relief were indescribable. The minute I put the phone down, I lay on my bed and sobbed my heart out. I’ve never been so thankful.

I was in the hotel restaurant having breakfast and Paul rang me straight away. I felt the same as Dec – relief, joy, gratitude, just so many emotions at once. It was nothing to do with winning an award, it was about what it signified, the audience knew we hadn’t betrayed them, we hadn’t been part of the phone-line ‘fixing’ and they still had faith in us. They still wanted to be part of that relationship which meant – and means – everything to both of us. We went to Australia, determined to put in the performance of our lives – after everything that had happened, it was the least we could do as a thank-you to our audience.

In May 2008, ITV’s fine was announced and the whole story was dragged up again. The press and media were full of the same stories. It was the lead story on all TV news bulletins, they used images from
Takeaway
and we went through the whole thing all over again.

Despite how horrible it all was, however, there were some positives to come out of it. PRTS – which stands for Premium Rate Telephone Service – is still a relatively new thing in television. As we said a few chapters ago,
Pop Idol
was the first talent show to let viewers choose the winner by phone voting, which means that this kind of viewer interactivity and accessibility is really less than ten years old. That makes it very hard to police. People were still learning about how the whole thing worked and, although that in no way excuses what happened, it means that nothing like that should ever happen again. Now, there’s no danger of viewers spending any money without a fair and honest chance of winning a competition.

At the same time as the fine, in May 2008, a report was also published into a mistake that had been made at the 2005
British Comedy Awards
.

Through a ‘voting error’, we were given the People’s Choice Award, which was actually won by, and should have gone to, Catherine Tate. We were just guests at the ceremony, so obviously had no idea what was happening with the votes, but that didn’t stop the press lumping it in with the phone-line problems on our shows. ‘No smoke without fire,’ they lazily regurgitated. We issued a statement saying we were appalled and immediately returned the award to ITV, who sent it to Catherine.

A few weeks after the Comedy Awards incident, I was in my local branch of Marks & Spencer’s buying some apples and I heard this voice behind me say, ‘Put them down, they’re my apples.’ I looked round and it was Catherine Tate. Even though we hadn’t personally done anything wrong, I couldn’t help blushing and I heard myself apologizing in the middle of Marks’s fruit aisle. Catherine told me not to be silly and that she was fine with it, which was good of her, we chatted a little and she accepted my apology. We went our separate ways and I went back to shopping for my five-a-day.

The investigation is still going on, and hopefully once it’s closed we might find out what happened. The whole thing – the reports, the fine, the mix-up – was a terrible time, and it reminded us how incredibly lucky we are to have the career we have – we would never, ever take anything for granted and we’re very fortunate to enjoy the support of the public, so sorry if this sounds cheesy, but thank you.

Chapter 43

The Pride of Britain Awards
reward British people who’ve committed remarkable acts of bravery. It’s produced in association with the
Mirror
and televised on ITV. We’ve been involved on a regular basis and have done various things for them down the years and, in 2008, we told them we wanted to do something a bit different. ‘Fine,’ came the reply. ‘How would you like to go to Afghanistan?’ They wanted us to present an award out there to a unit called MERT (Medical Emergency Response Team). The MERT unit is basically a flying A&E department that goes to the front line of battle in a helicopter with a doctor, a nurse, paramedics and a surgeon, picks up casualties and takes them back to the hospitals at the base. Even though it wasn’t quite the answer we were expecting, after talking it through (a lot), we eventually agreed.

We flew out with Ali from RAF Brize Norton on an old Tristar jet, which is exactly like a normal plane, except that it has three beds at the front for casualties. Before we left, we were all fitted for body armour and given a helmet – you think to yourself, ‘I’ll never need this,’ but once you get there, you’re told to keep them with you at all times. Twenty minutes before we landed, we were told to put on our body armour and helmet, and they turned off all the lights so as to land in the cover of darkness. It was one of the most surreal and scary things I’ve ever experienced. Nobody talks, so we all silently zipped up our body armour and put our helmets on and waited to hear the plane’s wheels touch down. We got off the plane at Kandahar Airport, and boarded a Hercules jet, which took us to Camp Bastion, a big UK army base that MERT operates from. Looking out into the Afghan desert night, we could see small, glowing lights everywhere, which the pilots told us were Taliban campfires. When we arrived at Camp Bastion, we grabbed a few hours’ sleep on a campbed in a tent and, the next day, started filming.

The following morning, we were being briefed on the work the MERT does, when the unit got a call through – there were casualties on the front line and they had to go and collect them. Our filming schedule went out of the window, and instead we just captured what was happening as the situation unfolded. They took two helicopters and, when they returned, the walking wounded came off the helicopter, followed by the more seriously injured. There was a young soldier who had been shot in the leg and an Afghan National Army soldier who had been shot in the head.

We asked if we could talk to the walking wounded once they’d been cleaned up – the corporal in charge went in to ask them and was away for ages – when he came out he explained that it had taken a while to convince them it wasn’t a wind-up. I suppose that’s understandable. You’ve just been wounded in action, flown back to the base and, while you’re getting treated, someone comes in and says, ‘Ant and Dec are here and they’d like to have a chat with you’ – you could be forgiven for thinking your medication had kicked in early.

After a day’s filming at the base with the wounded and recovering, we stayed the night there. The following day we did some more filming and handed over the award to the members of the MERT team on the airstrip where their helicopters land. Being there was very moving, we had young soldiers coming up to us and saying, ‘Thanks for coming’ – they told us it meant a lot to them. Those guys are away from their homes and families for months on end risking their lives. They know some people are opposed to the war so they felt encouraged to have some support, even if it was from a couple of daft blokes off the telly.

After we presented the award we went back to Kandahar Airport to check in for our flight home. We were waiting for our turn and had started to watch a giant plasma screen that was on in the corner of the check-in area, which was basically a big marquee tent. They have what they call BFBS, which is British Forces Broadcasting Services, and
This Morning
was on – it was strange watching Phil and Fern in Afghanistan. Just as they were finishing an item with Dr Chris, a piercingly loud siren started
going off – it was like a fire alarm, or an old air-raid siren. I turned from the TV and noticed that the whole room had cleared except for me, Dec and Ali. A soldier came in wearing full body armour, helmet and gun and shouted at us, ‘Hit the deck. Incoming, incoming.’ I looked down and saw the room hadn’t cleared at all – they were all on the floor with their hands over their heads. We followed suit and got down too. After a minute or two, the siren ceased. Everyone lay incredibly still, and explosions went off which didn’t sound too far away. The only sound in the room was Philip Schofield and Fern Britton on
This Morning
in the middle of one of their legendary giggling fits. I looked up at the screen and saw them laughing away, and all I could think was ‘How can you two laugh at a time like this? We’re being bombed!’ It was bizarre – lying there, we’d worked out by now that the base was under attack and our lives were in danger, but I was strangely calm. There was no fear or panic, just a weird realization of what the situation was. I looked around to see what everyone else was doing, and they were all still face down, some with eyes closed, some with eyes open staring at the floor. Then I saw Ali was looking around, too, but she was in fits of laughter – the whole situation was so strange it had brought on the giggles, and she couldn’t stop.

Another officer came into the room and ordered us all outside, so we went and lay face down in the dirt under a table, still with no idea what was going on. I was getting rather uncomfortable lying there so at one point I decided to sit up and stretch out a little. Immediately the soldier next to me said, ‘Every time I’ve seen anyone sit up during one of these attacks they’ve never sat up again – if you know what I mean?’ I knew exactly what he meant and immediately wriggled back down into the dirt.

Eventually, after around forty minutes under the table, it was deemed safe to go back inside. Word got to us of exactly what had just happened. We’d been under mortar attack from the Taliban, and the explosions were just 200 metres away. We’d been told to leave the tent because that was probably the first target they’d try and hit.

When we finally checked in and boarded, some of the casualties we’d seen at Camp Bastion the previous day were on the plane home with us, and it was fascinating to see first hand how efficiently the whole process worked. It was incredibly quick – they were wounded and arrived back at camp on Tuesday, flown to Kandahar on Wednesday and got home to the UK the same day. The whole experience was inspirational – you watch the news and read the papers, but the only way to truly understand what life is like out there is to see the place. The day after we got back, we were in the gym and the fire alarm went off – I nearly jumped out of my skin.

The next time we left the country, it was for a much more trivial and shallow reason. By the time it came round to
I’m a Celebrity
… in November, we hadn’t been in your front rooms for about six months, so we couldn’t wait to get back on the telly. The cast was as brilliant as ever, and it included a man we’d spent some time with in LA the previous year. No, not the maître d’, although he would have been good. It was George Takei, aka Mr Sulu from
Star Trek
. George had been one of the celebrity panellists on our American show,
Wanna Bet?,
and as well as being one of the few people we’d actually heard of, he was a real charmer, with the most amazingly theatrical voice. When we got back from the States, we told the producers all about him. Despite being seventy-two years old, George passed the medical and, incredibly, agreed to go on the show. You could say he was ready ‘to
oldly
go where no man has gone before’.

You could, but I wish you hadn’t.

Once we got to Australia, the producers went to meet all of the cast individually. They do that every year, as they feel it’s important the contestants are prepared for how to deal with the whole jungle experience and, trust me, if they’re not scared witless when the producers arrive, they certainly are by the time they’ve left. The three executive producers, Richard Cowles, Beth Hart and Chris Brogden, came to fill us in after they’d seen the celebs and they were all struck by how nice George was. One of the things they’d asked him was exactly how to pronounce his surname – Takeye or Tak-ay. To make sure they got it right, George told them a little story, which went like this: