People have mistaken my best friend Sue Ravey and I for a couple before – and I’m sure some fans secretly think we are together.
We’re not – although after three decades spent side by side and four years living with each other, I can understand why they might think that.
What we share resembles a marriage in many ways. We enjoy the best bits of a relationship – companionship, loyalty, laughter and a lot of love – just without the requirement to sleep together! I’m now 63 and, at this stage in life, I think what we have is lovely.
I hope women, especially those who are widowed, divorced or feeling lonely later in life, see Sue and I and realise you don’t need a romantic relationship to feel emotionally fulfilled. Sue and I have travelled the world together, cried together and laughed until we couldn’t breathe.
We’ve hyped each other up before huge arena shows, paddled in the sea after difficult times and sat in our pyjamas watching television with a takeaway and a bottle of wine. When you’ve shared that much life with somebody, the bond runs deep.
It all started in the late 1980s on the Yorkshire working men’s club circuit. We had the same agent and people were always telling us our singing styles were alike.
When I first saw Sue perform in 1988, her voice mesmerised me, as did the hilarious way she interacted with the audience. It was an education: for the first time I realised the power of a singer’s connection with the crowd.
Chatting to Sue after her show, we clicked. We understood each other’s lives on the tough club scene and shared an over-the-garden-wall style of humour – think Les Dawson’s Cissie and Ada characters. Even now, we end up laughing over absolutely nothing.
Jane McDonald and Sue Ravey’s friendship began in the late 1980s on the Yorkshire working men’s club circuit, where they first met as singers
Jane says the pair ‘enjoy the best bits of a relationship – companionship, loyalty, laughter and a lot of love’
We began working together when I was performing on cruise ships and the BBC asked me to star in a new fly-on-the-wall series.
I was 35 and my whole life changed overnight. One minute I was a singer on a ship and the next, when The Cruise aired in 1998, the entire country knew who I was. Within a year, I had my own Saturday night TV show Star For A Night, a number one album and my first tour. That’s when I invited Sue to be my backing singer. Later, she became my PA and hair stylist – a job which she still does today.
I’ll never forget the night in 2001 when we opened the door to my hotel suite in Las Vegas, ahead of my performance at the iconic MGM Grand hotel and casino. Barbra Streisand had stayed there a week before and we were jumping up and down, running around like idiots going: ‘Oh my God! We’re working-class girls from Wakefield. This doesn’t happen to people like us.’
Sue was always excited for me and never threatened by my success. She was – and still is – my rock. Beside her, I felt safe. I’ve always felt sick with nerves before performing, but every time I stepped before a crowd I’d look across the stage and see Sue, giving me a look as if to say: ‘You’re fine.’
My mum always used to say I’m all right as long as I know Sue’s there.
During my marriage to my second husband Henrik Brixen, who was also my manager, I lost a lot of confidence without realising it.
Henrik had a tight hold on my career and, although people think I’m
self-assured when they look at me, underneath I’ve always been desperate to get things right. For years, I’d been constantly self-editing because I’d been told by Henrik that I talked too much and sounded common.
Over time, I slowly stopped trusting my instincts. I was like a princess in a tower. After every show, while my team were out partying, I was tucked up in bed because Henrik worried about what socialising would do to my health and voice.
In the early 2000s, one afternoon during a summer season of performances in Bournemouth, Sue rang me from the beach and invited me down. We paddled in the sea, laughed like drains and Sue said: ‘Jane, I’m here and I care.’ Our friendship truly deepened in that moment.
When Henrik left in the summer of 2002, shortly after my record label dropped me, I was convinced my career was over, believing all my success was because of Henrik. But Sue set me straight.
‘Why are you so scared?’ she asked. ‘Don’t forget, you were the top of the clubs, you won so many awards.’ Through Sue’s encouragement, I rediscovered my shine.
She was my rock again when my musician fiance and partner of 13 years, Eddie Rothe, died in March 2021, six weeks before the start of a major tour. It had already been postponed because of Covid, so I couldn’t push it back again.
My heart was broken, but each night in my dressing room, while my lashes went on and my dress was zipped up, Sue would stand in front of me, clapping her hands, going: ‘Happy Jane, happy Jane.’ Some nights I didn’t know how I’d walk on stage, but during those two hours of performance I momentarily escaped my pain, often before falling to pieces afterwards.
Sue was always there, and for that I can’t thank her enough. I’ve never needed therapy because I’ve got Sue.
Living together happened so naturally. After losing Ed, Sue was at my house in Wakefield more and more because she was also by herself after separating from her long-term partner. One day I said: ‘Why don’t you move in?’ She already had a toothbrush there and three drawers full of stuff!
It was the best decision we ever made. Domestic life with Sue is the dream because we’re so similar, but also so different. She turns the kitchen upside down while cooking and uses every pan in the house, which gives me hives because I’m meticulously tidy. I can’t complain, though – she’s an amazing cook, so I’ve definitely landed on my feet.
Meanwhile, I sort the utility bills and pour a lot of wine. Those roles naturally evolved. Unlike living with a man, there’s no expectation that one person carries the emotional load. We look after each other.
Friendships in later life are said to be as crucial for health as maintaining a healthy weight and not smoking. Apparently they can even reduce the risk of disease and lower blood pressure. So I guess you could say our friendship is keeping us alive!
Sue calms me down. She’s intuitive about whether a decision is good or bad. Just like the joke that the late Queen thought the whole world smelled of paint because somebody 100 yards ahead was always sprucing up the places she visited, people treat me differently because I’m famous – but Sue sees situations and people for what they are.
She watches, then says: ‘This isn’t working.’ It’s why I’ve culled so-called ‘drainers’ from my life in recent years – certain negative people in the industry and acquaintances who didn’t have my best interests at heart.
The star described her best friend Sue as her ‘rock’ when Jane’s musician fiance and partner of 13 years, Eddie Rothe, died in March 2021
Friendships in later life are said to be as crucial for health as maintaining a healthy weight and not smoking, says Jane
Last year, Sue and I downsized from my five-bedroom house to a smaller property nearby, and I now also have a little bolthole by the sea, just for me.
People who watch us on Celebrity Gogglebox probably assume we’re joined at the hip, but I’m actually a terrible friend as I’m always away doing TV, interviews, photoshoots and writing.
We’ve also got separate groups of friends, and I think it’s healthy that we still have our own lives and friendships outside of each other. It keeps things balanced.
This past year has been incredibly busy for both of us. I’ve been away filming From Pole To Pole for Channel 5, then recording songs in Nashville for my new album Living The Dream, which Channel 5 also made into a two-part travel documentary. I’m now preparing for a massive UK tour later in the summer plus my fan cruise in the autumn, when I’m chartering a ship and taking more than 1,000 fans with me.
Amid all of this, Sue has been encouraging me to find love again, but any time she suggests it, I tell her to shut up. I had the best of the best with Ed, but I’m now embracing a different chapter of life – one where you don’t need a male partner to feel fulfilled.
After my mother lost my dad at 63, she had the time of her life doing whatever she wanted and I’m now the same. I have a job I adore and a lovely life with Sue. I also travel with other girlfriends, although none of these friendships is a match for what Sue and I share.
She’s 76 this year, which I can’t comprehend. In my eyes, we’re still in our 30s and 40s. We’ve talked about what will happen when one of us kicks the bucket and leaves the other behind, but neither of us feels sad about what the future holds. We’re in this together. Whatever happens we’ll face it as we always have. We’re survivors.
‘If Jane’s cooking dinner, you’ll get it for breakfast’
Sue Ravey, 75, lives in West Yorkshire with Jane. She says:
I’ll never forget the day I came home with bags of groceries in the pouring rain. I was wet through, with my hood up, lugging the bags inside, and there before me in front of the huge hallway mirror was Jane wearing a floor-length sequin dress. I said: ‘This sums me and you up!’ As usual, we creased up.
When Jane invited me to move into her home, I was living on my own in Doncaster. I’d split up from my partner of 15 years and was reasonably happy, but when Ed passed away I saw that Jane wasn’t in a good place and swept in to support her.
I knew she needed somebody practical around her because life keeps moving, even when your world has stopped.
Jane has been there for me, too – probably without realising it because, unlike Jane, I don’t wear my feelings on my sleeve. I did when I was younger, until life toughened me up.
When my son Gareth, now 45, was born disabled with spina bifida, I carried a lot of sadness and guilt for bringing him into the world because he had so much going against him before his life had even started. I divorced Gareth’s dad when our son was five, and being a single mum of a special needs child wasn’t easy. Those experiences hardened me.
In that way, Jane and I complement each other. She deals in big feelings, and that helps to bring my emotions to the fore, while I encourage her to be strong. She comes across as bold but I see her vulnerabilities and feel the most protective when new people come into her life. Jane is always so friendly with everybody, which is a lovely trait, but she’s a people-pleaser and sometimes people take advantage of that.
Jane struggles to switch off from work, but once we get to 5pm that’s it for the day. We love to eat together while watching The Chase with Bradley Walsh. It’s our little routine and that time is precious.
Sue says the companions ‘complement each other’ as Jane ‘deals in big feelings’ while Sue encourages her friend ‘to be strong’
After joining Jane on Gogglebox, Sue says she ‘was stopped occasionally in Tesco’ which gave her ‘a tiny glimpse into Jane’s life’ in the spotlight
Moving in with Jane was one of the best decisions of my life. We share a lovely companionship. Believe me when I say that we’ve never once fallen out.
The only thing that annoys me about her is when she gets a line from a song stuck in her head. We can be shopping in Marks & Spencer or in a lift with strangers and she’ll repeat the same blooming lyrics. Then she’ll say: ‘I’m getting on me own nerves!’
Jane also gets under my feet if she tries to help with cleaning. I prefer to crack on with it and get the job done. I come from a generation where your mum did everything, and when I got married I did it all. I’ve still got that mentality because I enjoy organising and cooking.
I suppose we’ve naturally fallen into more traditional married roles in a sense.
When I lived by myself, I often couldn’t be bothered to cook, so preparing meals for two again has been really fulfilling. In any case, if Jane’s cooking dinner you’ll get it for breakfast because she takes for ever, so we play to our strengths.
People are fascinated by our friendship and sometimes ask if we’re too dependent on each other, but the opposite is true. We work well together because there’s no competition.
After joining Jane on Gogglebox, I was stopped occasionally in Tesco and it gave me a tiny glimpse into Jane’s life. I honestly don’t know how she copes.
Even when I was young and singing on Yorkshire’s cabaret circuit, I never craved fame or celebrity status.
I like to be in the background, looking in, which is probably the secret to the strength of our friendship because I’ve never once felt envious of Jane’s success. I’ve actually felt sorry for her, if anything.
My God, I couldn’t put up with the pressure of keeping a TV and music career afloat or the hours she works.
The travelling has been fantastic, though. We’ve been everywhere together, from India to Mississippi, and when I look at the photographs on my phone, I can’t believe this has been my life.
When my sister and performing partner June died from bone cancer in 1997, I started looking at life differently, thinking: ‘You’ve got to say yes to more while you can.’ So when Jane invited me to become her backing singer I grabbed the opportunity with both hands.
Suddenly, instead of driving myself to working men’s club gigs and lugging around my own sound equipment, I was jetting around the world, staying in incredible hotels and beside a friend I adored. Within a year, I was on stage at the London Palladium. The whole thing felt surreal.
We’ve had extraordinary adventures, but this year I’m pulling back slightly as Jane has a big arena tour planned and, at 75, I’m feeling the pressure of being on the road. I slept on a tour bus until my 70s but now a comfy bed is essential so I’m dipping in and out of this one.
But whether we’re together or not, our friendship will always be solid. We joke we’ve spent more time together than with any of our respective partners and, as women, we get each other like no man ever could. Now that is special.
- Jane is touring the UK from late August with her 20-date Living The Dream tour. In October she is chartering her own ship for Cruise With Jane McDonald & Friends (jane-mcdonald.com)
