A diary-keeper since childhood, the author draws on his candid entries to weave together an absorbing, moving chronicle… Ebullience and grief mark a touching memoir.”

Distract ourselves playing Scrabble most of the afternoon, trying not to fixate on anything other than the here and now. But we know one another too well not to wonder and finally worry out loud— Basically Richard’s diary entries about his true love of his wife and daughter and all they went through on a daily basis during his wife Joan Washington’s fight with the big C word! It’s such a beautiful love story between two people and even though you only know them through their acting or in Joan ‘s case her voice coaching you actually feel so drawn into the story that you get to ‘know’ them. Again the frustration of not being able to be by her side when she’s having the scan. She reappears twenty minutes later. Every gift given and opened, every memory shared, every carol sung and listened to, is supercharged with a poignancy so painful that it’s a titanic struggle not to go under. I’m a retired character actor, and my real name is Peter Grant, but I had to change it in 1929, as there was an actor with that name already.”While I was grateful that she didn’t think I needed endless coaching, I was also frustrated that after only two sessions I no longer had a legitimate reason to see her again. She was also a few years older than me, married-but-separated, with a young son, and with a string of prestigious productions and a movie to her credit. Something metaphysical is certainly happening to me!!! I’ve never written a letter like this before. How wonderful life is. I love you, my darling. Joan X Nevertheless, this was an emotional read, covering the final year or so of Joan's life, in sometimes excruciating detail. I thoroughly enjoyed the little glimpses of what it is actually like to be an actor, particularly liked the part about Richard playing Classic Loki complete with unflattering green suit! Such a very different life to my own. Must be jet lag. But let’s face it, Swaz, it’s really boring, and I couldn’t hear a word that young woman was whispering.”

Even after almost four decades together, the teacher in her never missed the opportunity to correct this defect in my speech. Occasionally, when we were mid-argument, she’d go Henry Higgins on me, with an accent correction, simultaneously increasing my fury and trip-switching us into hilarity. Joan’s birthday. We are unabashed Christmas-aholics, and the house is baubled-up, tree kissing the ceiling, and enough fairy lights to host a Tinker Bell convention. For the past week she’s mentioned feeling breathless and has to pause halfway up the stairs. Nothing more than that. Un-characteristically, for a doctor’s daughter who has resolutely resisted any and every encouragement to see a medic about anything, she suggests calling the doctor, a first in our decades together. An emotional rollercoaster - profoundly moving and wonderfully entertaining. A brilliant memoir about living, loving and losing' Bernardine Evaristo GRANT: Oh, this was something that we discussed once a month. And I was very serious about it. And she said, we can't do that because we've got a daughter. I said, our daughter is grown up. She would understand that we are so yin and yang of this relationship that we've been so intensely in for the last 38 years and have been absolutely faithful to each other. I said we would leave the right notes or we'll explain it to her and we just go ahead and do it. And she said, well, we can't do that. She was adamant that we wouldn't, but I was absolutely 5,000% committed to doing that because I couldn't imagine a life without her.

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But it’s also possible that he hopes to make the reader understand that it doesn’t matter how many glamorous friends a person has if their true love is dying. Widowed, Grant isn’t particularly articulate. It’s enough for him simply to tell us, over and over, how happy he and Washington were together, that they mated, like swans, for life. Nevertheless, those things that he is able to describe – the sight of her tapestry kit by their bed, the way he still talks to her even though she is no longer in the world – have a universality about them, an ordinariness that resonates. Darkness falls on us all eventually, even on those who know Elton John well enough to receive his condolences by phone. Lying shoulder to shoulder, I look across to where this “dark mass” is hiding inside her. Waiting. Just like we are, on the outside, waiting to identify what it’s doing and how far it’s spread. I ask if he thinks this is because he grew up in Eswatini (then called Swaziland) before moving to London in his 20s, so although he can charm his way into English society – even going to Prince Charles and Camilla’s wedding – he is always standing a little to the side, trying to understand it. He smiles kindly at my armchair analysis: “It’s always a little odd to hear oneself defined by someone else, but that makes perfect sense. Yes, exactly.” A gorgeously candid account of acting and show business. And an intimate and heartfelt story of love, loss and a life spent together. It is an honour to be invited in on these diaries. I cannot remember being so moved by a book' Dolly Alderton

Stay up with Oilly and Florian watching TV as the rest of the world whoop and firework their way into 2021, around the globe. Some years later, I was promoting a film on Channel 4’s The Big Breakfast and there was a live phone-in segment where a member of the public called in to speak to the TV guest. It was Mrs. Grant from Bromley who advised that I could drop the “E.” as her husband Peter had died six months previously.

Richard E. Grant’s heartbreaking memoir recalls a long, happy marriage – and leaves us shattered for his loss.” Around this time, I received a letter from Equity, the actors’ union, and was informed that a retired actor called Richard Grant had complained, after seeing his name outside the Churchill Theatre, requiring me to change mine. Called Equity in a panic and explained that I had no money, and that my name was printed on all my ten-by-eight photos already. She fixed me with her big monkey eyes and said, “All right—but you’ll have to repay me, if you ever make it.” KELLY: Yeah. It comes across so clearly in the book what a very public life you led. And the book is exceedingly private. It reads almost like your diary, from the period that Joan was diagnosed to what would have been your 35th wedding anniversary, right before she died.

I knew he had an "interesting" life and was reputed to be an excellent raconteur and writer ( The Wah-Wah Diaries: The Making of a Film), but he exceeded those expectations. Grant is an actor who found fame in "Withnail and I" and recently won best-supporting actor awards for "Can You Ever Forgive Me?". He was born and raised in Swaziland but has been based in the UK for most of his adult life. GRANT: You know, I think navigating the abyss of grief, it's on a daily basis. You don't get over it. You go around it. So I follow her mantra every single day, as does my daughter, of trying to find something, even if it's the simplest thing like the weather's great today or, you know, the train was on time - to be mindful of those things rather than thinking you've got to win the Nobel Prize or win an Oscar on a daily basis or the lottery. So that's been really helpful. KELLY: May I say I'm sitting here with a huge smile on my face that you have that three days of absolute joy, it sounds like, after everything you've been through. I'm glad.At 11 a.m. lung coordinator Alex calls and asks to speak to Joan. I know instantly from the tone of her voice that the news isn’t good. Too calm. Too conciliatory. Joan is still in bed when I hand her my phone.