By Kathryn Knight | Published – 20 Jul 2026
What were you like as a child?
My wife is always telling me there’s been no development in my life whatsoever. She thinks I am exactly as I was at six – and I suspect that she’s right. Aged six, I had a tricycle that I loved riding around London and 72 years later, I still have a tricycle – admittedly not the same one – and I’m still cycling around London.
I was a happy, self-contained little boy. We lived in Victorian mansion flats in west London, and I would carry my tricycle down the stairs and set off on my own little expeditions. By today’s standards, it sounds extraordinary but at seven I flew on my own to Switzerland for a holiday. You weren’t entirely alone, of course – you were handed over to someone who in those days was called an air stewardess, with a label round your neck – but it gave you a sense of freedom that would be unimaginable now.
Who was your greatest childhood influence?
I was recently looking through some old papers and found a letter from my three older sisters. They were proposing to pool their pocket money to send me to boarding school because I wouldn’t stop talking. At the bottom of the letter, in my father’s unmistakable handwriting, was a single word: “Agreed”, with a tick.
So off I went to boarding school at age ten. The headmaster, Mr Stocks, gave each child a piece of advice. Mine was: “Busy people are happy people”. That has stayed with me all my life.
Somewhere, a Boy and a Bear: A biography of AA Milne and Winnie-the-Pooh, by Gyles Brandreth (Michael Joseph, RRP: £25)
Check price
You’ve written a biography of AA Milne to mark the centenary of Winnie-the-Pooh. What prompted that?
I loved the stories and poems as a child – in a way, I had a slightly Christopher Robin-sort of childhood – and my wife and I read them to our own children. Only later did I realise that, growing up in Chelsea, I lived just around the corner from Milne and his son, the real-life Christopher Robin.
Years later, I wrote a stage show about Milne and met Christopher Robin himself – a sweet, rather shy man. I’d been told he didn’t like talking about Pooh, but actually he was perfectly willing to. The truth is, he hadn’t had an entirely happy experience. He loved being Christopher Robin as a boy, but as he grew older he was teased at school, and eventually he fell out with his parents because of it.
That’s rather sad, because for me opening a Winnie-the-Pooh book is like holding a passport to the pure happiness of childhood. The original Winnie-the-Pooh teddy bear now lives in the US. Should we bring him back for the centenary? It would be lovely if Pooh Bear could come back to Britain.
Since 1947, his home has been in the New York Public Library. I’ve been trying to arrange for him to come back for a visit for some time, but his age and frailty make that difficult. Plus, Pooh and his friends are a huge attraction for visitors, so they’re understandably reluctant to let them travel.
