Born in Stockport in 1968, Yvette Fielding is a TV presenter and actor. Her career began on children’s comedy drama Seaview, before she was headhunted for Blue Peter, becoming the show’s youngest ever presenter at 18. With husband Karl Beattie, she founded Antix Productions, and created Most Haunted, a paranormal investigations show sold to more than 90 territories globally. An author of YA books and novels, her memoir, Scream Queen, is out now.
This was taken by the wardrobe lady on Seaview. My character, Sandy Shelton, was involved in a demonstration to save the seals on Blackpool beach, which explains the badges and sash. It was a very sunny day and I was having a little breather, looking at the donkeys in the distance. I would have been 13 at the time. With a perm.
My younger self was outrageous and fun. I loved dancing. Madonna was my everything. I used to practise Lucky Star in my bedroom with a hairbrush. Back then, I actually thought: “After Seaview, I’m going to be a pop singer.” I was confident, but deep inside I was a bit shy and always wanting to please people.
This was especially prominent at work. I would make myself incredibly nervous, because I wanted to get the approval of Seaview director Marilyn Fox so badly. Even if she said, “That was really good!” I wouldn’t believe it was good enough.
While I never became Madonna, I did join a band called Idle Hands. I was the lead singer and the only girl; the rest of the group were strongly influenced by the Smiths, who I didn’t really like as I was confused by Morrissey’s lyrics. We did one gig and the lead guitarist’s string broke, the whole thing collapsed, and I was so embarrassed I hid behind a speaker. That was the end of that. Instead, I worked as a cleaner at a hotel and for a while was a pot washer.
When I was 17, Blue Peter producer Biddy Baxter, who had seen me on Seaview, asked me to come in for an audition. They said I was a bit too young, so Caron Keating got it. I thought my TV career was over, but the following year I got a call asking if I’d come back again. My mother decided that to ensure I got the job, I would need to look like Valerie Singleton. I wore a long skirt, tall leather boots and a thick cowl-neck sweater. It was very hot, but it worked! Finding out I was going to present that show felt like winning the lottery.
Back then, I was a real homebird and very close to my family. Living in London and not knowing anyone was challenging. Biddy was hard on me, too, to the extent that I resigned after the first year because of the pressure. The tipping point was the dog. I had started to settle in London and had moved in with friends when Biddy called me into the office. She said: “By the end of this week, you will move in with someone else, even though you don’t know them, and you will take the Blue Peter dog with you. From now on, Bonnie is your responsibility.” Biddy told me that I was so useless, the only thing I was good at was looking after the dog, which definitely didn’t do my nerves any good.
I turned up to the house in Earlsfield with the dog, feeling nervous. I shouldn’t have been worried: the woman who owned the house was a continuity announcer for the BBC with the most beautiful voice. She was hilarious and the loveliest person ever. We had lots of parties and wet ourselves laughing at each other. One time, I’d been doing Blue Peter with the British bobsleigh team and they came knocking at the door. We ended up doing a conga line down the street. When the police turned up, they joined in, too.
Despite the fun I was having, Bonnie was not happy without her owner and Biddy was not any more encouraging at work. Eventually, I had enough. I was in the studio, and I said: “I can’t do this any more.” I left the dog lead, picked up my bags, and walked out, shaking. When I got into the car, I burst into tears thinking: “What have I done?” Deep down I knew I’d made the right decision to stand up for myself. That night I got a call from Biddy saying: “Darling, we get the impression you’re not very happy?” Quite the understatement! She resigned a few months later, and from then on my confidence grew. I’m so grateful to Biddy. She gave me balls of steel – which is invaluable in the TV industry. I’ve since come across many backstabbing people and I was able to deal with them all because Biddy gave me a backbone.
I met my husband, Karl, in 1998. I was the presenter on a BBC One documentary and Karl, a cameraman, was the sexiest, most gorgeous, most wonderful human being that I’d laid eyes on. I badgered my producers: “Can he be our cameraman when I go and film my bit?” In the end, one of the producers went up to Karl and said: “We need to talk to you about Yvette.” He said: “Oh no. I’ve not upset her, have I?” They said: “No, you need to ask her out. She’s driving us mad.” He did, and we’ve been together since.
Together we came up with the idea for Most Haunted. A friend had recently come back from a place called Michelham Priory in East Sussex. He said it was haunted. Karl said to me: “Would you spend the night in a haunted house on your own?” I told him where to go. Then he said: “What if you had a camera crew?” That night we worked on the concept, and soon after we shot a pilot in the style of the Blair Witch Project. We used all our savings to have it professionally edited, which was risky as we had a mortgage to pay and two children to look after. There was nothing left in the bank. None of the TV channels wanted it.
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For some bizarre reason – divine intervention, something spiritual – we believed we were meant to make this show, and kept going. We tried everyone and eventually a man called Arch Dyson on Living TV agreed to watch it. When Karl called to tell me the news that we’d sold it, I was tidying up the kids’ toys and dropped to my knees and landed on some Lego. The pain and the ecstasy!
Paul O’Grady was very passionate about the paranormal. I appeared as a guest on his talkshow and invited him on to Most Haunted. We went to the Blind Beggar pub in Whitechapel, east London, and as soon as he saw something scary he screamed and ran out the room and left me on my own. The beginning of a beautiful friendship. Every Halloween he’d call and say: “Hiya, Yvette. I wish I was coming with you tonight.” Although I miss him dearly, I’ve not tried to contact him, and I haven’t had any messages. Even if I had, I wouldn’t tell.
I’ve changed so much from that 13-year-old girl. It makes me sad to look at her, as while it was a wonderful time, I was so hard on myself. I wish I could tell her: “Keep putting one foot in front of the other – you’re going to meet your knight in shining armour. He’s going to take care of you. Everything will be all right. Just keep going.”