Nigel Havers is a man who has played many roles across a glittering career, from dashing leading men to deliciously devious charmers. But long before

he ever set foot on the cobbles as Coronation Street’s unforgettable conman Lewis Archer, he found himself in a very different drama — one that unfolded

in the corridors of Westminster and involved one of the most formidable political figures of the 20th century.

In an extraordinary reflection on his early years, the actor has lifted the lid on the moment he came face to face with Margaret Thatcher — and how what began as a nerve-shredding professional gamble turned into a broadcast that would make history.

Havers, now 74, spent nearly a decade working behind the scenes at the BBC as a researcher for radio legend Jimmy Young. It was a world away from the bright lights of television fame, yet it placed the young Nigel in rooms where influence and power crackled in the air. When Thatcher had just become leader of the Conservative Party, Havers floated what he thought was a bold — perhaps reckless — idea at a production meeting: why not invite her on air?

The response was brutal.

According to Havers, the suggestion was swiftly dismissed, shot down before it had even properly landed. Chastened, he might have left it there. But encouragement from his father, the eminent barrister Sir Michael Havers, pushed him to try again. Eventually, reluctant colleagues gave him the go-ahead.

That meant Nigel himself had to approach the woman who would later be dubbed the Iron Lady.

What followed, he recalls, was nothing short of intimidating.

Meeting Thatcher at the House of Commons, the young researcher arrived armed with a carefully prepared list of around 30 questions, crafted alongside Jimmy Young. He read them out, hopeful, anxious, waiting for approval. Thatcher’s response was cool, precise — and utterly uncompromising.

After a pause, she informed him she would answer only a select handful: numbers 2, 7, 15, 26 and 29.

For many, that might have spelled disaster. For Havers, it meant returning to the studio with the weight of potential humiliation on his shoulders. By the time the broadcast day arrived, Jimmy Young himself was far from calm. Nigel remembers the presenter being deeply unhappy, fearing the booking might prove a mistake.

Then Thatcher walked in.

She arrived with minimal fuss, accompanied by a single bodyguard. And in a moment Havers still seems astonished by, the atmosphere changed in an instant. Jimmy Young, who had been braced for battle, appeared captivated almost immediately.

What was scheduled as a tight 15-minute exchange exploded into something far bigger. The interview ran and ran, stretching to nearly an hour. Instead of constraint, there was connection. Instead of confrontation, a surprising warmth filled the studio.

Havers describes it as sensational — a meeting of minds that left everyone stunned. Young, he says, had never been better. A rapport sparked, mutual admiration bloomed, and Thatcher would go on to return to the programme year after year.

For Nigel, it was a front-row seat to history and a masterclass in how quickly perceptions can shift. The steely political figure who had seemed so forbidding in Parliament revealed a different side once the microphone was live.

Decades later, of course, Havers became a household name in his own right. Soap fans adored to hate Lewis Archer, whose schemes and silver tongue left a trail of chaos through Weatherfield until the character’s dramatic demise in 2019. Yet the ease and polish audiences saw on screen were, perhaps, forged in those early high-pressure encounters.

Now, with a lifetime of stories behind him, the actor is stepping back into the spotlight in a new way. He is touring the UK with a one-man show — an evening built around memories, revelations and the sheer force of his personality.

What can audiences expect?

“Me,” he says, with trademark mischief.

For years he resisted the idea, joking he was far too young. Somewhere along the way, he realised time had caught up — and that the tales only he can tell are too good to keep locked away.

From the cobbles to the Commons, from soapland scandal to political legend, Nigel Havers has lived a life steeped in drama. And if his encounter with Margaret Thatcher proves anything, it’s that sometimes the most compelling performances happen far from the script.