I shall declare my interest early on; the soon-to-be-Mrs Jack was the editor of The Victoria Derbyshire Show, and it’s where we met. I was running late, the morning after a very whisky-soaked night before, having won a landmark libel judgement against Katie Hopkins and stayed out with my lawyer and friends until the wee small hours. I was still wearing the suit I had posed on the steps of the High Court in 24 hours earlier. She walked over to me, holding out a stiff hand. “‘I’m Louisa.’ ‘I’m Jack, can I get some makeup?’ ‘No. You’re late.’”
I thought she was rude, she thought I was tardy and a gobby pain in the arse. But I started watching The Victoria Derbyshire Show religiously every morning, looking for Louisa’s name in the credits, but also being astounded by the stories the show told. Eventually she and I got in touch with one another, and the rest, as they say, is history.
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