Maureen
Apparently I kept telling people that I was never going to get married again. I must be full of shit because I am now married. And it was me that proposed on a train, coming back from the Edinburgh Festival in August 2024. David happened to notice that it was Tu B’Av, a special day in the Jewish calendar when women can propose to men. As a gag I crawled under the little table, looked up at him and said, “Will you marry me?” He said, “Yes,” and I immediately realised I was stuck under the table. He had to help me out.
We’d only been together for just over a year, but it somehow felt like we’d known each other for the whole of our lives. When I moved into his house in London — the house he’d shared with his wife for 50 years — my heart kept telling me I was coming home. I wanted to be with him 24/7. There were kids and grandkids, but David loved mine and I loved his. I tried not to stick my oar in where it wasn’t wanted. Sorry if this sounds smug, but I wish any person who’s on their own at my age could find this level of happiness.
David and I first spoke when we were seated next to each other at a mutual friend’s lunch. I must have liked him because, as I was leaving, I pulled the friend aside and said, “Is he your chap?” He is an unusual Jewish man; very funny, very dry and very quiet. He listens, which a lot of men aren’t good at. It took me four months to pluck up the courage to call him, and even then I made an excuse so he didn’t think I was inviting him on a date. I said I needed some help with a talk I was doing.
Some of the people who knew we were seeing each other would give me a look and say, “David Turner? Isn’t he a bit frum?” That means religious. Yes, David had a strong orthodox upbringing with a firm commitment to family and faith. He is extremely learned and erudite when it comes to the teachings of Judaism and, yes, I have had to up my game a bit, learn how to keep a kosher home again. He never pushes his faith at me — or anyone — but being with him makes me feel closer to the things I believe in.
He is aware that I speak out on Jewish issues, but not once has he asked me to tone it down. I don’t think I’m particularly brave when it comes to making a stand. The day after I joined the protest last year against the BBC’s Gaza documentary [which was narrated by the son of a senior Hamas figure], they offered me two jobs and I took them. When I was working on Corrie full time, they asked me if I wanted security to walk me home. I said yes. I dislike actors — and I include myself here — who make their speeches but don’t do anything that actually makes a difference. They don’t put their money where their mouth is.
Has my stance had an effect on my career? Possibly. But I’ve got no complaints. I met my all-time heroine Barbra Streisand when my late husband, Jack Rosenthal, was working on Yentl. My heart skipped a beat when Hugh Jackman started singing Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’ to me in the rehearsals for Oklahoma! in the 1990s. I’m about to go out on an eight-week theatre tour. I remember working with Alec Guinness and him saying that as long as he could remember his lines, he’d keep going. I’m the same. I see no reason to retire when I can still make people laugh.
Having said that, this tour is going to be difficult because it will be the first time David and I have been apart for any length of time. I have always been surprisingly tough when it comes to jobs — work has to come before everything else. But this time Let’s just say I don’t want to rock the boat too much. I’ve found someone to look after and someone who wants to look after me. What we have is rare and precious, and I hope I don’t f*** it up.
On their first trip to Ascot in June 2024
David
Did I know the person sitting next to me at lunch? Of course! Thanks to the British Telecom ads on TV, most of the country knows Maureen Lipman. We had a bit of shared history — our sons were in the same class at school — and chatted amiably, but that was as far as it went. At that time I’d only recently lost my wife of 50 years to Alzheimer’s, and had been her primary carer for the last five years. At 77, I was in no hurry to get back out into the world.
Alzheimer’s is like watching the person you know slowly slipping away, day by day. Poetry — especially the classic poem If I Could Catch a Rainbow — got me through those tough times. I could no longer catch the rainbow for her. I had to hold her hand and watch her disappear. The feeling of helplessness broke my heart.
I spent most of my career in the health and fitness industry and co-founded the gym group LA Fitness. In the aftermath of losing my wife, I made sure I looked after myself mentally and physically. Along with getting on my exercise bike, reading poetry became a daily ritual and my granddaughter persuaded me to start a website, adding a new poem every week. Maureen must have spotted that and asked if I could help her put together a talk on the indomitability of the human spirit. I had no idea it was a date.
There’s no way I would have asked Maureen out. The last time I went on a date was in 1969. Harold Wilson was prime minister and the Beatles were still together. It was a strange feeling at first, going out to dinner with a new person. Yes, it’s the same as when you date in your teens, but it’s also different. You’re not wondering if she wants to have kids. She doesn’t want my money; I don’t want hers. Neither of us had anything we needed to prove to ourselves or to the world. I could simply look at this person and ask, “Would I like to spend time with her?” Yes, I would.
What did I like about Maureen? She speaks her mind, she is beautiful, she’s funny and has none of that “I’m a big star” attitude. There are times when we’re meeting famous people — I was excited to be sitting next to the actor Tom Courtenay one evening — but Maureen is just the same when she’s chatting to an Oscar winner or the lady in the shop. There’s nothing remote about her.
The thing that convinced me to marry was knowing that if anything happened to Maureen, I would want to take care of her. That’s much easier when you’re married. The other consideration was time. When you’re young time stretches on for ever, but when you get to your seventies the second hand begins to pick up speed. We might have one year together, five years or 20 years, so let’s make them the happiest they can be.
Allegra tours the UK from May 12; allegraplay.com
Strange habits
Maureen on David
He is an enabler. You have the idea and David will make it work
David on Maureen
She’s like a human jukebox. She seems to know the lyrics to every song I’ve ever liked