Work Text:
September 1979
It was by far the most exciting day of Richard’s life so far. At the grown-up age of nine and three quarters his prayers had been answered. He had written in to the Jim’ll Fix It show which granted wishes to kids and he had been selected, out of thousands of children. They had spent the day touring the deck of an Aircraft Carrier! It was so exciting. The cameras finally stopped rolling.
“You’re a natural” “I bet you’ll be on telly one day” were comments from the crew, and Richard glowed with pride, unaware that these were fairly common compliments given to children on the show to help them feel at ease with the camera’s regardless of whether or not they actually deserved it.
Then the big man himself smiled at Richard.
“Come on. Why don’t we go and have a chat somewhere private, get to know each other a bit better? You can ask me all the questions you ever wanted to ask” Savile’s Yorkshire accent was warm and inviting.
Richard followed him.
February 1981
Richard sat, staring at his knees as the doctor spoke to his mum over his head.
“It’s normal for children to go through fussy stages with their eating, but this one is lasting quite a long time. I’m going to refer you to a paediatric dietitian. Richard’s weight is in the bottom 5% of his age group and if it goes on much longer he will stunt his growth. He may have already done so.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to eat. It was just hard when the food turned to ash in his mouth.
March 2003
Everyone got on well with Richard, and he was such a wonderful find for the show. Jeremy had had several long chats with him, in the pub, or the office, or the studio while lighting was being set up. The man was clever and witty and remarkably good company.
There was a bit of hero worship going on. Richard clearly idolised Jeremy, perhaps a little too much sometimes, and it glowed through on the show on occasion.
Then there was the weirdness about getting changed. Richard always locked the portacabin door when he was getting changed, always making sure he was alone. Perhaps he had some kind of body image hang-ups? Jeremy thought.
At all other times when they were in the portacabin together, Richard made sure the door stayed open.
Richard clearly didn’t have any objection to spending time with Jeremy, but he always had some excuse, or someone else to invite, whenever the invitation involved them being alone, or in private.
Jeremy didn’t notice at first. It was only after James May joined the team, and Richard didn’t have any issues with being alone with the other man that it started to click. Then there was the getting into costume. What had previously been something very private for Richard, suddenly he didn’t mind anymore, as long as both Clarkson and May were in the room too.
When Jeremy finally did realise, he tried not to be offended, and he couldn’t fathom what was behind the weird avoidance. Eventually, when he realised that Richard really didn’t seem to have a problem with him (and probably wasn’t even aware of the avoidance, oblivious as he could sometimes be) Jeremy let it go as simply one of those things.
December 2004
It was the wrap party of another successful series, and Richard was far too drunk to be left alone. There were only a few stragglers left and Jeremy glanced around looking for anyone who could safely get the hamster home.
There was nobody. Jeremy sighed. He was never very happy being the responsible one, he always preferred to be the entertaining one.
“Come on then, Richard, let’s get you home.” He sighed. Calling a cab.
When the taxi finally arrived he bundled a still merrily slurring and gesticulating Richard into the back of it, and gave the address for his London flat.
It wasn’t until they got inside the flat, that there was a moment of weirdness from Richard. When the door closed, he kind of froze for a second before shaking himself. Jeremy was too drunk to read anything into this.
“You’re sleeping on the settee.” He said, as he filled two large glasses with water and handed one to Richard. Jeremy rummaged about in a cupboard, before coming up with a clean duvet cover, which would probably do, in so far as making up the bed goes. He spread it over the relevant item of furniture. Richard was still a bit stiff and frozen. Stood in the middle of the room holding the glass of water and swaying slightly from his intoxication.
“Don’t be sick on my flat!” Jeremy instructed, mindful of a James May anecdote where Richard had indeed been sick all over May’s house while intoxicated.
Richard blinked at him.
Jeremy sighed and rummaged around in his kitchen before eventually locating a plastic washing up bowl that he positioned next to the sofa.
“If you need to throw up and can’t get to the toilet, be sick in that.” Jeremy said, before turning around and going to bed, shutting the door behind him and leaving Richard in the middle of his living room. Obligation to make sure his shitfaced mate would be safe fulfilled.
The next morning they shared a hungover breakfast of bacon and painkillers, and when Richard was recovered enough to drive, he thanked Jeremy for the hospitality and left.
Something shifted that night, and Richard no longer avoided being alone with Jeremy.
March 2006
James May had discovered this gem a few weeks ago, but he had been saving it for their American road trip, because he thought it would bring about an evening of humour and ribbing. Unfortunately he hadn’t taken into account the medium. The clip was on a video, carefully wound forward to exactly the right moment. All the hotels seemed to have DVD players and no way of playing a video tape.
That was until the night after their scary incident at the petrol station in Alabama. The motel had clearly seen better days but the TVs in the rooms did have video players rather than DVD players attached to them.
It was quite normal for the three presenters to gather in someone’s room, raid the mini-bar, maybe watch a film, and generally relax before the evening meal. They would invite the crew to join them, but the crew and Andy all tended to be far too busy going through the rushes of the day’s work and sorting out any last minute hitches for the next day’s filming.
This evening it was Jeremy’s room, and Jeremy was already getting frustrated flicking through various movie channels and Richard was laughing at him for getting frustrated.
“I’ve got something we can watch.” James said, smoothly taking the remote control out of Jeremy’s hand, flicking over to the video input, and putting in his treasure.
The screen flickered to show a clip from a 1970s TV programme. They showed the deck of a huge aircraft carrier, before zooming into show the delighted face of a young boy with brown hair and brown eyes.
“James, is that… ?” Jeremy began to ask, a grin spreading over his face.
“Yep. Baby Richard.” James was smug he exchanged a grin with Jeremy before glancing over to look at Richard. Richard had gone a funny grey colour underneath his sunburn.
“I’m not feeling too well, I think I’m going to turn in.” Richard mumbled before leaving quite quickly. Concerned, James followed, only to come straight back after hearing Richard throw up.
“He’s being sick.” James said.
“That isn’t unusual for him.” Jeremy responded. “It must be the American food, he’s been eating the processed rubbish and there’s a lot of stuff in food in America that’s illegal to put in food back home because it’s so bad for you. It’s no wonder the imitation American cheese upset his sensitive stomach.”
Then the pair settled in to watch the clip with glee. And then watch it again.
“He was very cute wasn’t he?” James mentioned at one point, the nicest thing they had said about him so far.
“James, if you deigned to go on the internet every so often, you would discover that half the world still thinks that he’s very cute. It’s why we hired him, to bring in the female viewers.”
The video was watched again, and shared with the crew that night, and for the rest of the trip Richard was subjected to a good-natured ribbing with lines from his brief childhood fifteen minutes of fame. Richard bore this with a tight smile, and watching carefully for an opportunity to change the topic to anything else.
October 2012
All anyone could talk about was the Jimmy Savile case. What had happened. How shocking it was. Whether any of the BBC higher-ups that they knew had been among the ones complicit in covering it up.
Everyone was talking about it on set. Everyone except Richard. Richard who usually found an excuse to either leave the conversation or change the topic as soon as it was brought up.
“Have you noticed Richard’s being a bit weird?” Jeremy asked James in the early afternoon.
“Yes.”
“Do you know what’s up with him?” Jeremy asked, taking a long puff on his cigarette.
“What are we, eight-year-old girls? No I don’t know what’s up with him, but I can make an educated guess.” James replied.
“So you do know but you’re pretending you’re not sure.” Jeremy said back. “So go on, because I’m out of ideas. What do you think is up with Richard?”
James turned and gave Jeremy a look, of the kind he tended to give Jeremy when he thought Jeremy was being very stupid indeed.
“Who do we know who was featured on Jimmy Savile’s programme when he was a kid, who immediately started throwing-up when we pulled out the clip, who might have some ghosts from thirty-odd years ago being brought up by the whole media situation?” James asked Jeremy, pointedly.
Nausea immediately swirled in Jeremy’s stomach. “You’re wrong, it was food poisoning, and he didn’t seem to mind us teasing him about it that whole trip.” Jeremy said.
“Didn’t he? I remember it differently.” James replied, still being infuriatingly calm. “It isn’t just that. Do you remember when our mums came and took part? At one point they were telling anecdotes about us as kids, and Mrs Hammond was talking about Richard being a fussy eater when he was nine and ten. It got so bad the doctor put him on a special diet, if he had been older, or a girl, or both, he probably would have been diagnosed with anorexia. Anorexia isn’t an uncommon outcome for victims of sexual assault or child molestation.”
“How long have you been thinking about this.” Jeremy asked.
“Since the first story broke. Hammond’s reaction was off when I pulled out that video. Really off, we embarrass each other all the time and he’s gotten angry at us before but he’s never gone pale and thrown up. I just kept putting the pieces together and worked out that Hammond was probably one of Savile’s victims.”
“You can’t know that!” Jeremy said, aghast, thinking of the adorable little nine-year-old Hammond on the film with huge brown eyes and sticky-up brown hair. He thought of his own children when they were that age, of Hammond’s daughters. The thought that anyone would want to touch a child that age sexually was revolting.
“I can’t know that.” James agreed. There was something in his tone.
“He hasn’t said anything, but you’ve made up your mind.” Jeremy concluded. James’ face was grim. “Well, come on then. Let’s go and ask him.” Jeremy stamped out his cigarette, and began to tug James behind him.
“What? No. We can’t just ask him, Jeremy.” James was objecting as he was tugged along.
“Yes we can.” Jeremy was pushing a bravado he didn’t feel. Once James was actually following him, he zoomed along. He spotted Richard and snagged his elbow, pulling the younger man along as he stopped speaking mid-sentence in surprise from where he had been having a conversation with one of the crew. “I just need to borrow Richard.” Jeremy said, before marching Richard and James away into the portacabin that served as a green-room.
“That was rude, Jeremy, I was mid-conversation.” Richard sounded exasperated and tired.
“This Jimmy Savile thing.” Jeremy started.
“What about it?” Richard responded.
“You were on his show when you were a kid.” Jeremy continued. Richard waited for a question. The air thickened with tension. Jeremy then blurted out. “James thinks Savile touched you.” It passed the buck of suspicion off him. Jeremy wanted Richard to burst out laughing. To tease them for being ridiculous. To get cross with them.
Instead Richard pulled out his e-cigarette and took a puff with slightly trembling fingers.
“You can’t tell anyone.” Richard said, quietly. “How the hell did you figure it out?”
James explained his reasoning, finishing weakly with a “I don’t think anyone else has figured it out.” Jeremy almost wanted to cry. Richard looked so small now, slumped in a chair, not looking at either of them.
“It was over thirty years ago and I’m over it.” Richard said into the silence.
“You’re shaking, Hammo” Jeremy pointed out. Richard turned to look at him.
“I’m as over it as I’m going to get and I don’t let it have a major impact on my life anymore. Aside from Mindy you two are the only people alive who know, and I need you to keep it that way and for us never to talk about it again. Not as a joke, not in banter, I can’t talk about this.” Richard was using his stern, grown-up voice now. James was listening between the words.
“The only people alive… Who knew who isn’t alive?” James asked. Richard felt bare and uncomfortable, but his colleagues were curious and intelligent, and probably wouldn’t be able to just let this go.
“If I answer your questions now. Can you promise to never talk about it again?” Richard asked.
“Not here.” Jeremy suddenly spoke again. “I do want to talk about this, but anyone could walk in, we could be overheard, and it sounds like the kind of discussion that would go better with alcohol, besides, we’re taping in a couple of hours and we need to be focused for that. We’ll skip drinks with the crew, instead, you two come to my flat when we’re finished.”
James was nodding along in agreement but Richard shook his head.
“If we’re going to delay this at all, I want Mindy with me. The girls have a sleepover on Friday, you can come to mine after filming.” He explained. The others agreed and seconds later they were indeed interrupted by a harried looking PA who had been sent to find them.
October 2012- Friday
They were a couple of drinks in, and had shared a lovely meal, and now they were all in Richard’s living room. Jeremy and James both seated in armchairs, nursing their glasses, and Richard sat on the settee with Mindy curled protectively into his side. They had finally gotten on to the subject of the elephant in the room.
“So what did you mean, when you said we were the only people alive who knew?” James asked. Richard drew in a deep breath and Mindy gave him a comforting squeeze as he spoke.
“When I was in my early twenties, I was contacted by someone who had also been on Savile’s show. They wanted to meet. I didn’t think anything of it. At the time, I assumed, naively, that I was the only one he had ever done anything to, and I hadn’t told anyone so how would anyone else know. I met up with them, a man a couple of years older than me, and a woman about my age. He had molested one and raped the other when they were on his show. They told me their stories so I told them mine. That after filming he took me into his dressing room for a private chat, gave me a glass of whiskey, told me how “grown-up” I was, and had sex with me. They then said they wanted to come forward and they wanted me to join them. I refused. I didn’t want the attention, or to go through the trauma of raising a complaint. It offended my masculinity aside from anything else and I just wanted to move past it.”
Richard paused for a second. Jeremy found himself wondering over the language Richard had used: had sex with me. You couldn’t have sex with a nine-year-old, it would always be rape. But if it helped Richard not to think of himself as a rape victim then he could get behind that.
Richard spoke again. “A few years later, when I had been with Mindy for a while, I confided in her, and she, as always, is amazing. We revisited the idea of raising a complaint but I didn’t want to be the only one. If I was going to make one, I wanted the solidarity of others who had experienced the same. I wasn’t sure, but I decided to contact the people I had met with before. I looked them up and both of them had committed suicide in the intervening few years. I discussed it with Mindy and I decided to just move past it. I couldn’t dwell on it or let it define my life. So I did. I put it behind me, and aside from a couple of small hiccoughs. That was that.”
“What do you mean a couple of small hiccoughs?” Jeremy asked.
“That first trip we did to America, when James had the episode of Jim’ll Fix It I was on. That was tough. But I couldn’t ask you to stop without explaining why and I didn’t want to tell anyone.” Richard said.
“It was the first time you’ve been on one of your trips and I’ve received three plus phone calls a day.” Mindy explained. Her tone was kind, and light. The couple didn’t want Jeremy and James to feel bad about the teasing.
“For the first couple of series” Jeremy’s tone was serious and intense, “You wouldn’t be in a room alone with me, you wouldn’t even get changed at the same time until James joined us. What was…? I mean, did you think that…, was that related?” Jeremy eventually said.
Richard sat up, Mindy getting off him and leaned forward to look directly at Jeremy.
“Firstly, until you let me sleep on your sofa the night after the wrap party, I wasn’t even aware that I was avoiding being alone with you. I didn’t think about it. Secondly, I have never thought I was in any danger from you, I know you would never do something like that.” Richard seemed to run out of words before finding them again. “We talked about it afterwards, Mindy and I, and I think I figured it out. I had been watching your work for over a decade before I joined Top Gear. You were a famous, successful man who I admired. The last time I met and spent time alone with someone like that, something pretty terrible happened. There was no conscious thought involved but the lizard part of my brain, spotted the parallel and acted to protect me. As soon as I noticed what I’d been doing, I stopped, because what I was doing was ridiculous.”
The silence afterwards was almost awkward until James made a joke.
“Well, I think the lizard part of your brain could afford to get involved a bit more often if it means you’ll stop crashing into things when you get behind the wheel of a car.” And the tension was broken.
Before they retired for the evening, never to speak of the subject again, Jeremy made one final point.
“You never want to speak of this again, and that’s fine. But the next few months are probably going to be pretty intense, with more and more stories about Savile coming up in the papers. I just need you to promise us, that if it gets too much, if you need time out or a more intense work schedule or whatever it may be, please just tell us so we can help.”
Mindy squeezed her husband’s hand and Richard’s eyes filled with tears that were blinked away and gone in an instant. “Okay.” He agreed.