I, on the other hand, was determined to commit as much of my day to memory as I could – and it was clear, as a I arrived early at the venue, the Horsebridge Arts Centre, that others were of a similar mind; a crowd was already gathering, chatting over tea served up by Noël himself, and rubbing shoulders with guests including Cushing co-stars Melvyn Hayes and Caroline Munro. I’ve written for Intermission and am a regular contributor to the TPTV podcast, so caught up with Sarah and Mel Byron, the Cronins’ chief factotum. Then it was time for the day’s action to begin.
After a brief introduction, the 150 or so hardened Cushing fans heard from Hayes, Munro, and former Hammer Films runners Phil Campbell and Brian Reynolds, who regaled us with tales of working with the great man, but the most amazing stories came from Geoffrey Hughes, whose father sold their family home to Peter and his wife Helen in the 1950s. The Hughes clan moved a few doors away, but remained friends with the couple; Geoffrey and his siblings appear to have been surrogate nephews and nieces to the Cushings, who were unable to have children of their own. Peter treated them to gifts from the local toy shop and encouraged their hobbies. I once interviewed the actor William Franklyn about his work with Cushing. He told me his daughters nicknamed him St Peter; if the tales recalled here are anything to go by, it was rather fitting.
Afterwards, we watched The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), the film that began the actor’s long association with Hammer’s gothic horrors, before a brief lunch. The fun continued afterwards; like kids on a school trip, we were split into four groups, each taking it in turn to tackle various activities. For me, it began with a guided tour of some Cushing hotspots with comedy historian Andre Vincent. He admitted he wasn’t an expert in his subject, but in a way, that might have been an advantage – he really had to have done his homework, ‘winging it’ would not do for the audience of ardent Cushing fans. Nevertheless, he did miss out the Tudor Tea Rooms, the actor’s favourite eatery.
What we did see, however, was Cushing’s View, a spot looking out to sea towards the Maunsell forts in the distance. Unfortunately, a couple were sitting on the bench donated by the Cushings and steadfastly refused to move, despite 30 pairs of glowering eyes boring into their souls. (Vincent had earlier described the local folk as resolute and they were proof of that.) Cushing’s beachfront house, complete with its top-flight art studio, was also featured, along with places he would visit, such as the local golf course (to admire the view rather than play), as well as the local Wetherspoons pub – a former cinema now called The Peter Cushing.
It was then time to watch a 1992 interview, carried out by journalist Peter Williams (who was present to discuss the show) for his TV series The Human Factor, in which Cushing discusses his spiritual side as well as his love for his wife, who by then had been gone for over 20 years.
A trip to the local museum followed, where a plucky band of volunteers proudly showcased their exhibition devoted to the local hero, including his bicycle, his art equipment (Cushing was a skilled watercolourist) and a costume from The Masks of Death (1984), his final outing as Sherlock Holmes. Then it was back to the Horsebridge for the last event: a Cushing quiz. I’m proud to say I won.
After a quick catch-up with Mel, in which we mused on what Cushing would have thought of all the fuss (we decided he would have been touched, embarrassed and surprised), I was back on the train to St Pancras, passing some of the Charlton fans going in the opposite direction. They were jubilant, having won the match and therefore promotion to the Championship next season.
They can’t possibly have been as happy as me, however. I mean, I spent the day ‘with’ my hero, and then topped it off by winning some cake. Surely there can be no finer end to an event than that.
Talking Pictures TV’s Peter Cushing Celebration ran from May 25 – 26 2025.
