Cressida Bonas | The Spectator columnists & writers

What I learnt about fear from Richard Branson

More than any other season, autumn brings to mind change. Perhaps it's the sense of letting something go. The movement of the seasons is present in New Zealand artist Angela Heisch’s first solo UK show at the Pippy Holdsworth gallery, entitled Burgeon and Remain. Her semi floral abstracts represent the peak of summer and her use of bright colours are a warm welcome before we head into a darker time of year. The limitless feel to these paintings suggests growth and change, provoking a playful engagement. Stepping closer to these conceptual forms, I want to leap inside them. They are interactive and dramatic with a curious sense of mischief to them. The repeated spinning symbols grow outwards and seem to communicate to each other like trees.

My frightening flights of fancy

I worry too much; I struggle with the unknown and I don’t like it when life doesn’t turn out as planned. This time last year Harry and I had hoped to say our vows under blue skies, witnessed by our friends and family. Instead we got married in a pandemic and a rainstorm. My sister Pandora says; ‘It’s dangerous to have high expectations - you will almost always be disappointed.’ On this occasion, however, this disappointment turned out to be the best thing that could have happened. We refused to let covid or the weather dampen our day, resulting in no hangovers of failed expectations. My chief worry is about my parents and my imagination runs wild. Now that I can hug them again, I cannot stop. My dad pats me on the back when he feels my embrace is going on for too long.

The joy of defying convention

I have a new love in my life; Budgie, a miniature dachshund. After collecting our little friend from Kent, she has taken over the house. I am preoccupied with how to keep her entertained. I talk about her as if she were my child. My google search history includes “tips for surviving the first 30 days with a new puppy, bonding with my pooch and how do I know if I’m becoming a dog bore?” We go out to dinner for the first time in months. Our conversation centres around how soft Budgie’s ears are and how many poos she has done that day. The topic changes course when the fastidious looking couple sitting at the next-door table roll their eyes. The lockdown puppy craze has given rise to the latest breed of organised crime.

The perils of auditioning on Zoom

So we can hug and kiss each other, but facemasks could be here to stay. There are some people I would rather never hug and kiss again. Nor am I sure I want to socialise in big groups, outside or inside, now that I have become accustomed to cosy nights in. My husband, Harry, calls me the hermit crab. I have spent too many happy evenings eating spaghetti bolognese watching Netflix. On the other hand, I’m longing to dance wildly at a live gig and preferably not on my own. I am dying to drink wine with my girlfriends and chat each other’s ears off. It can’t come soon enough. The acting world is beginning to open up. I have a FaceTime audition with a film director. It’s a particularly heated scene. Without meaning to, I rehearse my lines in the background of my husband Harry’s Zoom work call.

Spectator Out Loud

Fraser Nelson, Matt Ridley, Ian Rankin and Cressida Bonas

35 min listen

Spectator Out Loud

Fraser Nelson, Matt Ridley, Ian Rankin and Cressida Bonas

35 min listen

For the Christmas triple issue, there are four authors in this week's Spectator Out Loud. Fraser Nelson reads the leading article in our Christmas edition; Matt Ridley talks about how mRNA vaccines could revolutionise medicine; Ian Rankin reads his short story; and Cressida Bonas reflects on what it was like to have a lockdown wedding.

Cressida Bonas: My perfectly imperfect lockdown wedding

I had a lockdown wedding. A 30-person, socially-distanced, sanitised church service was organised in under two weeks. Restrictions meant no hymns, no wind instruments and no speaking too loudly. A disappointment for a musical family. Not what we’d envisaged, but a more intimate and special day than we could ever have imagined. Imperfect yet perfect — a day we will never forget. Four days before the big day, I marched up and down Oxford Street on the hunt for a wedding dress. Finding nothing, I remembered an old Whistles dress I once wore for a James Arthur music video. I went home and found the dusty frock at the back of my cupboard. After some ironing, it looked good as new. Two days before the wedding, I woke up with a stye on my eyelid.

Cressida Bonas: Everyone seems to have very strong opinions about my wedding

White House Farm began last week on ITV; a six-part factual drama about the notorious murders. I play Sheila Caffell, Jeremy Bamber’s sister and one of the victims. She was initially thought to have committed the crimes, and was described in the tabloids as ‘crazed’ and ‘deranged’ — an unfair portrait of a mother who was suffering from schizophrenia. I hope people who see it understand the turmoil she had to go through in life. There’s a lot of talk about mental health these days. Researching the part, it occurred to me that we have as a country become much more understanding on the issue. That’s a good thing. I hope Sheila’s reputation is repaired. Getting to know Sheila’s ex-husband Colin Caffell, who supported the show, was an honour.

Actress’s Notebook

Our upstairs neighbours are not the sort of people you want to have run-ins with. They have regular moped deliveries and I see packages exchanged through blacked-out BMW windows. I once knocked on their door to ask if I could borrow a potato masher. They looked at me as if I were mad. They seem to sleep all day and do all sorts at night. I usually go to bed to the sound of floor-board drilling. I wonder what they are hiding: are they supplying illegal stuff for the next generation of Tory leaders? The other night, at about 5 a.m., I heard a banging noise, followed by shouting at the front of the house: ‘POLICE, POLICE.’ What had I done? I peered out of the window. Officers were bursting into the house, heading for the upstairs flat.

Table Talk

With Cressida Bonas

18 min listen

Table Talk

With Cressida Bonas

18 min listen

Actress Cressida Bonas talks to Lara and Livvy about growing up on shepherd's pie and pop-tarts, her trypophobia, and the best curry she's ever had.

Actress’s Notebook

I’m moving house, parting ways with my beloved friend Georgia. For eight years, the two of us have laughed madly, danced wildly and cried horribly. But life moves on and so must we. Boxing, labelling and filing items is not in my nature, which makes Operation Declutter rather difficult. Instead, I sit amid a sea of bin liners stuffed with objects that share stories from the past year: sentimental letters, family photos, dog-eared books, plays and endless diaries reminding me of good days, and bad ones. It has been a year full of opportunities, of challenges approached and the occasional disaster. I’m living and (hopefully) learning. I have just finished working with a wonderful cast and crew on a ITV drama, whose name I cannot yet reveal.

Diary - 24 May 2018

Monday morning. Sitting in Ed the physio’s waiting room. He is theatreland’s go-to man for fractured bones and torn muscles — essentially, an MOT garage for weary actors. A herd of cast members from The Lion King hobble in; the expression ‘suffering for your art’ comes to mind. I hurt my knee playing on all fours, but as a dog rather than a big cat. Since training at Laban, I had always wanted to do absurdist theatre, and when a role in Auden and Isherwood’s The Dog Beneath the Skin came up, I thought my prayers had been answered. But what a challenge! On stage for two hours every night, wearing a boiler suit, dog head, and gas mask. No more dog parts for me. I was apprehensive about the reviews, but Matthew, my brother-in-law, pointed out: ‘It’s really none of your business what they write, Cressida.

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