Jeffrey Simmons

I just had the most extraordinary meeting with my agent. I say “agent”, even if the book for which he acts on my behalf doesn’t earn much these days, and I only see a small part of that.

In addition, Jeffrey Simmons is now 96 years old. He still has, he points out, “my wits about me”: despite various ailments, he is in remarkable health. “I’m not accepting any new clients these days,” he says, with a humorous glint in his eye.

We talk about all the people named Collins he has represented over the years — Jackie and Joan, of course, a medium called Doris, and a chap in Japan who once won the Penn prize for short stories. “Perhaps I should write a book about Collinses I have known,” he chuckles. Illustrious company.

And Jeffrey has known, let’s face it, a lot of people. Before becoming an agent, he once ran the UK’s top showbiz publisher, representing the great and the good of the Golden Years, “I’ve met Kings, Queens and Presidents,” he remarks. “David Niven was my big regret, the one who got away.”

As publisher, biographer and ghost writer, he was the confidante of many, and will take a potboiler of secrets to his grave. He did recount one tale, of the day Elizabeth Taylor called on him with a book of photos, just before she left to film in St Petersburg… but as for the rest, he’ll have to tell you himself.

“What have you learned?” I ask, in full-on earnest junior mode. Jeffrey considered this, but said he preferred to remember experiences, rather than read too much into them. He asks if he could help me with anything: I confess to a complete inability to finish telling a tale, but I would certainly be in touch if I did.

As I write this, I realise I could take a leaf from Jeffrey’s book — not strive too hard to understand the deeper message, but to take pleasure in the company of an old friend, and enjoy the stories as they pass. Although, I may just take my recorder with me next time.

Originally published at https://joncollins.me on August 24, 2022.