Jeremy Vine: my family values

The broadcaster talks about being brought up in a religious household, turning into a bolshie teenager and giving time to his own children
Jeremy Vine: 'I was full of argument as a teenager. Those were difficult years for my parents.'
Jeremy Vine: ‘I was full of argument as a teenager. Those were difficult years for my parents.’ Photograph: Linda Nylind/Guardian

My parents are generous, loving and lacking in ostentatiousness. Mum was left money by her father – a successful financial man – and my parents spent it on two things: buying a house and sending their children to private school. We went to Epsom college. There was no money left over. We had a battered Dormobile and never went abroad on holiday; we went to a beach hut in Cornwall. They made a big sacrifice for us. Education was the most important thing.

My dad, Guy, was a lecturer in civil engineering at North East Surrey College of Technology. My mum, Diana, was a housewife, although she later worked as a doctor’s receptionist. My parents had strong values and were scared of the world beyond Cheam, where I grew up with my comedian brother Tim, two years younger than me, and my artist/actor sister Sonya, who is five years younger. That was very natural in those days. At the same time, they always said: “Do whatever you want to do and we’ll support you.” A powerful thing to tell a child.

Religion played a large part in my upbringing in ways that were good and also quite difficult. If you’re introduced to high-octane Christianity young, you naturally reject it and then, cautiously, come back. That was the process I went through, but I don’t begrudge that. Mum and Dad had a phase where they probably wanted us to be missionaries, but when your middle child announces he’s going to be a comedian, you realise the game’s up.

Dad walked to work every day – three to four miles each way. The cost of his commute was measured in how many pairs of shoes he had to buy. He’s very low stress. People try to get peace through mindfulness in the modern world, force themselves to be in the moment; it’s very trendy. That’s my dad. He discovered that in the 1960s.

I was a bolshie teenager, full of argument. The major mitigation is that the gap between my generation as teens and our parents was as big as it had ever been. When your 12-year-old comes home talking about the Sex Pistols, you’re truly alarmed. I was massively into Joy Division, too – music that sounds very odd blaring from your son’s room. Those were difficult years for my parents, but we have a great relationship now.

As the oldest, I was a bit bossy. Tim was creative – always thinking about plays he wanted to write and, latterly, comedy. We were both into music and always in bands. I played the drums. Sonya was gregarious with lots of friends. Sometimes we’d all do stuff together and were friendly. Other times, we would be running on parallel lines. We have become very close in recent years.

My wife, Rachel Schofield, a presenter on the BBC News Channel, insisted I join the National Trust and we visit old buildings. Dad always makes a joke that I’m one of them because I’m 50 and she’s 39. Culturally, she’s on it in a way I’m not, but – now – I’m more aware. I understand there’s great merit in listening to a beautiful symphony or looking at a great stately home.

Time is the most precious thing. The people with the biggest stereos at boarding school were the ones who saw their parents the least. I was a day boy, home every night, but some were left for weeks. You cannot cover up for a loss of time with money. I hope I give time to my daughters: Martha, 11, and Anna, eight. I doubt they’ll go into the same profession as Mum and Dad. You veer away from what your parents do. They have the performance thing kids have, but everyone these days wants to be Taylor Swift. I’ll let them be what they want to be.

Jeremy co-hosts The Battle of Britain at 75 live from Biggin Hill on 18 September on BBC Radio 2 (8pm-10pm). He is also taking part in Strictly Come Dancing on BBC1 (Saturdays, 7.15pm)