As his colleague and friend for over 30 years, I will miss Nicholas Parsons terribly

He loved show business as much as those of us in show business loved him. From the audiences that adored him to those of us who were lucky enough to know him, he won’t be forgotten

I was a panellist on Just a Minute for over 30 years. It has been one of the cornerstones of my career and when I heard that Nicholas had died, I howled. I will miss him so much.

I’m not alone, all of us who worked with him thought he might live forever.

I first did Just a Minute back in the Eighties. I was in my mid-twenties and one of just a handful of women working on the London comedy circuit. I’ve no idea why they asked me on the show. I suspect it had something to do with the recording location being in Scarborough and Wendy Richard, the only regular female panellist at the time, having filming commitments in London. I remember being very nervous and chain smoking all the way up north on the train.

The other panellists on that occasion were Derek Nimmo, Peter Jones and Clement Freud. Clement was difficult, he complained vociferously that I stank of “fags” and wouldn’t stand next to me for the local photographer.

Nicholas, on the other hand, was incredibly kind and during the recording gave me the famous Parson’s “benefit of the doubt” on several occasions. This is something he continued to do for newbies right until the end, allowing them to get a word in even when they have monumentally fluffed; he understood that the show had to be flexible, that sometimes the rules needed to be ignored to make space for a joke.

He was ever the consummate professional; everyone who ever worked with him will say the same. But he was also one of the most beautifully dressed men in show business. Nicholas was of the blazer and tie brigade, he was immaculate down to his socks and silk pocket-handkerchief, he and his beloved wife Annie made a very handsome couple, come to think of it, his entire family is utterly gorgeous.

There was never anyone so unfailingly polite as Nicholas, his manners were beautiful, both on a personal and professional level. For years, even when he was in his nineties, he would perform Nicholas Parsons’ Happy Hour at the Edinburgh Festival, interviewing fellow fringe performers for an hour at lunchtime. Unlike many chat show hosts, Nicholas insisted on watching any guest booked to come on his show. Often I’d meet him on some cobbled street after midnight as he exited a late-night comedy gig. He wouldn’t dream of leaving the work to his researcher and, in any case, he was interested.

Nicholas loved comedy, he loved the nuts and bolts, heart, liver and lungs of it and he understood it. His career was long and varied; he played the straight man and he’d been the star. He knew everything there was to know about timing, so much so, that he had a passion for horology and was a member of the British Watch and Clock Makers Guild. He was also tireless in his charity work and although he was delighted to have a CBE, I personally always thought he deserved a knighthood.

Nicholas was old, we all knew that, but his mind and spirit were a good 20 years younger than his legs.

In recent years, Just a Minute recordings were done in the radio theatre at the BBC’s Broadcasting House. Before the show, we’d all meet up in the subterranean green room where – according to some ancient law (apparently once decreed by Sandi Toksvig) – a smorgasbord of Scandinavian delicacies was laid buffet style at the back of the room. Refreshments at BBC radio shows have become a thing of the past in recent years, (cuts ’n’ all that) so it was always a massive treat not only to see Nicholas, Annie and the other JAM panellists but also a great pile of smoked salmon, chopped beetroot, sliced ham and potato salad.

There was always wine too. Paul Merton, probably the most regular of the regular panellists knew Nicholas liked a nice glass of red and would bring in a bottle of something special for after the show.

I loved being in that room. I loved being with some of the wittiest, funniest people you could ever hope to meet. I loved how old school it was and I loved seeing Nicholas, who had taken to using a stick, miraculously shed a couple of decades as he walked up the stairs and on to the stage, his voice strong, his arms open.

The audience adored him and he was always thrilled to be there, he never complained. He may have been knocking on a bit but he was never too tired. His enthusiasm for the show remained undimmed, he cared deeply about each and every recording.

Nicholas may have been an old pro but he wasn’t stuck in a time warp, he was enthusiastic about the changes to the programme, how it had become more relaxed and more female friendly over the years.

Nicholas was always happy to be working, he loved show business as much as those of us in show business loved him and as I write this, I find myself howling again. I’m so proud to have known him.