Arbiter was a royal correspondent in 1981 for Independent Radio News before joining the Buckingham Palace press office in 1988. Photo / Getty Images
Dickie Arbiter on skint upbringings and working for the late Queen.
Genteel Dickie Arbiter, 83, had a turbulent childhood in London before finding his calling in the media in the 1970s, first in Rhodesia and then at LBC.
He became a royal correspondent in 1981 forIndependent Radio News (IRN) before joining the Buckingham Palace press office in 1988 as secretary to The Queen, Prince Charles and Diana.
He retired from the role in 2000 and is now a regular commentator on TV, as well as giving talks on his experiences. Married twice, he lives in London and has an adult daughter Victoria, who’s a royal expert in the US.
How did your childhood influence your attitude towards money?
I was born at the height of the Blitz in 1940, mum left when I was 3, so it was just Dad and I. But then he died from tuberculosis when I was 6, and I was shipped off to boarding school by my paternal relatives.
By the time I was reunited with Mum, she was divorced again and we relocated to London where I went to day school. All of this upheaval taught me resilience and independence.
Mum gave me two shillings a day for the bus and food, but I’d usually cycle, skip lunch and buy cigarettes instead. I was good at school but refused to do my homework, so the headmaster told Mum I was wasting her time and money and I left with no qualifications.
So what followed flunking out of school?
Mum had an uncle in Rhodesia, and he sent two sea passages for us. You didn’t travel 6000 miles in those days for a holiday, so I knew it was for the long-term. Because I’d flunked out of school I was sternly told I’d do what they wanted me to do after which I could go and waste my life if I wanted.
I was an electrician for five years. I had a flair for it, but I hated it. I countered the horror of my day job by doing amateur dramatics in the evening and a bit of TV presenting.
When I finished my sparky job in 1960, I left for Jo’burg and Durban to do theatre for the next two and a half years, before returning to the UK after answering an advert in The Stage for children’s actors at the Unicorn Theatre.
What was your first pay at the Unicorn Theatre?
Seven pounds and 10 shillings a week. I lived in a room on Gloucester Rd near Earl’s Court. The theatre director asked our troupe if anyone had experience stage managing, so I said I did, but then she said I wouldn’t get paid any extra.
I said I wouldn’t do it, so she capitulated and bumped me up to 10 quid. Before we went on tour, she asked us again if anyone had a driver’s licence. I did, so my wage was bumped to 13 pounds and 10 shillings.
It didn’t go far because we paid for our digs on the road, then I had my room back in London. I used to survive on a daily six-pence tub of milk, a loaf of bread, a tub of margarine and a pot of jam a week.
….but you got itchy feet again?
Yes, I was 26 and had been working for 10 years straight, so I wanted a break. I travelled Europe, ran out of money, and headed back to Rhodesia, where I worked for the Rhodesia Broadcasting Corporation.
Within 18 months, I had four programmes on national radio, and three on local radio. I got married, had a daughter Victoria, returned to the UK when she was a month old, and started work at LBC.
Sadly, the marriage didn’t last and I was a single dad by 1977.
What was being a single dad in the 70s like?
It wasn’t easy, whether you were a single dad or mother. But I knuckled down and got on with it to the best of my ability. We continued living in Windsor, so Victoria’s schooling wasn’t disrupted, but I was working in London on early shifts.
I had to negotiate with all sorts of mums at the gates to pick her up at the end of the day and feed her, before I could get home in time to supervise her homework. I was selling things to keep food on the table.
I picked up a cheap VW hatchback from an Aussie backpacker but totalled it one night after hitting black ice on the way back from LBC. It was my lifeline, so I had to buy another.
Every Monday morning I was at the post office picking up my child benefit, but it didn’t go far. Being freelance was hard because you never knew where the next job was coming from and when you were getting paid. It was hard making my mortgage payments, but luckily, I had a very sympathetic bank manager.
So how did you make the jump from children’s theatre and radio to being press secretary for the royal family?
No one else was doing it, so I started covering the royals for LBCin 1977, with the Queen’s Silver Jubilee. Then I did such a good job of organising coverage of Charles and Diana’s wedding in 1981 that I got a job as royal correspondent, working directly out of the palace.
I got to know everyone and I knew the “system”. In 1988 I became the Queen’s private secretary and media manager for Prince Charles and Diana, where I remained until I had to retire at 60, in 2000.
What made you a good press secretary?
My mantra was never say no comment because there was always something to say, it just might not be the answer that journalists wanted. I was honest and never ignored calls.
If I didn’t have the answer, I’d call them back. People knew I was fair and I was always available. I had the rapport, having been on both sides of the fence. The only protocol was that I was never supposed to go in front of the camera.
I did break this golden rule when Prince Charles broke his arm playing polo and there was a media frenzy outside Cirencester Cottage Hospital. Charles thanked me afterwards for being upfront.
How did you manage challenging times?
I don’t do stress. Why should I make myself ill because two people are being incredibly stupid? When Andrew Morton’s book on Diana came out in 1992, we had no idea what was in it. I had to go to Charing Cross station to pick up the first edition of the paper, and I was gobsmacked.
Diana called me at 5am asking what she should do, and I told her it couldn’t be undone now, but just to keep schtum, not answer her phone, and I would accompany her on her next engagement two days later to keep people at bay.
I also became acutely aware that everything in my private life was monitored so I could never step out of line, lest it caused any embarrassment. But I enjoyed my time at the Palace; there was always a buzz.
What’s the most difficult lesson you’ve learnt about money?
Through life we all make mistakes, but if you start dwelling on it, you go down the rabbit hole of worrying. If you’ve made a mistake, you’ve just got to live with it and eventually it just fades.
I wouldn’t change anything about what I’ve done because regrets are pointless. Discipline is vital. If you’ve got to do something and there’s nothing you can do to avoid it, go and enjoy it as best you can. Otherwise you’ll be miserable, and who wants that?
Well it’s not my colourful ties that I’m renowned for, that the late Queen always used to deride.
I get them from a lovely lady called Jane Ireland who has a stall at Covent Garden every Wednesday and Friday. She designs them to my specifications.
I also have a fondness for vintage cars. In 2017, I sold my everyday car, which was a tatty old Ford Fiesta and got a 1958 Sunbeam Rapier, it’s classically stylish and an eye-turner.
What’s your attitude towards money now?
I’m prudent and appreciate the value of money. I’m reasonably comfortable. I’m definitely more careful than I have been in the past, especially given we’re all living longer.
I exercise – but not at a gym; they’re money-making rackets. I go out on my bike every morning at 5.30am and I ride twice a week. It’s important to keep your brain and body active. I give talks throughout the year, especially on cruises, which allows me to travel to new places.
What charities do you support?
Charities are vital and do incredible work - I tend to support UK-based charities because I feel the money will get to the right place.
I give a monthly donation to the NSPCC because so much work needs to be done to protect children, and I like Cancer Research and the Royal British Legion because we’re living today because of those that fought for our freedom.
If you could change one thing about the financial system, what would it be?
Tax, whether it’s how much self-employed people pay and when, or inheritance tax, which affects everybody in different ways, not just the wealthy.
There you have two alternatives - don’t do anything and let your beneficiaries sort the mess out at great or shed your assets carefully while you’re alive, potentially leaving yourself short. It’s important for every parent to put their affairs in order so HMRC doesn’t unduly get more than their fair share.
Best financial advice for readers?
All very well to spend today, but think of your tomorrows.