Anne Hegerty, known from The Chase, shared that her biggest fear about dating is having a man invade her personal space.
The quizzer, who was diagnosed with autism at 45, opened up about her challenges, mentioning a time when she unplugged her phone to stop a boyfriend from contacting her.
At The Paul Strank Roofing Charity Gala in Kensington, London, she honestly said that she thinks she would make a terrible partner.
Anne, 66, said, “I really struggle with being close to others and having anyone else in the house.
“I think a lot of autistic people don’t get married or settle down.”
Anne explained, “I don’t even have pets because of this, and my ability to live with other people is getting smaller. I need a lot of alone time.
“I always feel like I need more space than anyone can give me. If I wanted a relationship, I could find one, but honestly, I don’t.”
She also mentioned that her longest relationship only lasted four months. Reflecting on that time, she said, “It only worked for those few months because I was in Manchester. I kind of set it up so it wouldn’t last.”
In the end, she wrote to him to end things. “I remember crying with relief and then crying with guilt,” she shared.
Anne felt overwhelmed during that relationship. “Sometimes, I unplugged the phone because he tried to call me every day. I just wanted it to be over.
“I’d sit there waiting for the phone to ring, thinking, ‘Don’t phone, don’t phone, don’t phone!’ Other times, to get over the waiting, I’d call him, but that made him think I wanted to talk. I really just wanted to end it. I didn’t want to talk to him or anyone!”
Anne joked that she hasn’t lacked offers from admirers who seem to like her “Mrs. Trunchbull” Governess outfit.
She said, “I’m sure some people are attracted to the whole look of The Governess. I think there are some who might be interested if they let me.”
Anne said, “I do meet attractive men, but I know it won’t work out. I feel like it’s not fair to them because I won’t treat them well.”
She added, “I always want more space than they can give me. If I wanted a relationship, I could find someone, but I don’t.”
She thinks it’s better not to date at all and enjoys having men as friends more than women. She recalled a quiz she attended in June, where a woman pointed out they were the only two women in the room, but Anne hadn’t even noticed because she was talking to her male friends.
Anne also shared that this is part of why she never had children, even though she is great with kids. “I did want children, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it very well.”
About 20 years ago, two kids from her neighborhood used to come over. “We limited their visits to just one hour a day, but they always wanted to stay longer. They were wonderful kids, and we’re now friends on Facebook, but I couldn’t handle that for more than an hour.”
Anne takes her role as godmother to Mark “Beast” Labbett’s eight-year-old son, Lawrence, very seriously.
She said, “Lawrence’s birthday is at the end of November, so I usually send a birthday and Christmas present at the same time—but they are not the same gift. My parents had winter birthdays, and I knew they hated getting just one present for two celebrations.”
Anne joked that one of the gifts she gave Lawrence was a bit inappropriate—a toy crossbow. “So, weaponry,” she laughed. “But lately, I’ve been giving him Minecraft vouchers since he really loves that.”
She also mentioned that she has spent Christmas alone for the past 40 years. That’s why she’s especially happy to be playing the Fairy Godmother in this year’s panto, Cinderella, in Scarborough.
Anne, who was on I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here in 2018, said, “Now that I’m in panto, I can say, ‘Sorry, I’m in Scarborough!’ and that’s my only day off.”
She sees it as a great day off. Even though many people invite her to spend Christmas with them, she prefers not to. “I don’t do Christmas dinner or a tree. When I was a kid, I just remember all the pine needles everywhere!”
Earlier this year, Anne took on another acting role, making a cameo as a neighbor in a film called Exorcising Barry, which is about a man obsessed with a demon.
Anne said that any chance of going to Hollywood is out of the question.
She explained, “America wouldn’t want me because I’m fat. I have a friend who went there for work, and even though she looks amazing, they told her she needed to lose weight. I’m fine with how I am, but they don’t like fat British actresses.”
Despite this, she has had great success in Britain. Talking about The Chase’s recent National Television Award win, she said, “I’m so happy. Bradley Walsh is amazing. It’s been 14 years, and I love it.”
She added, “Other kids used to sing in front of the mirror with a hairbrush. When I was younger, I practiced being interviewed for when I became famous. I don’t know why, but it’s always been my dream.”
My Family Turned Against Me When I Became a Private Detective, but a Teen Girl’s Case Changed Everything — Story of the Day
My family turned their backs on me when I left journalism to become a private detective. They saw it as a disgrace, and I started to wonder if they were right. No clients, no money, just regrets. But then a teenage girl walked into my office, searching for her mother—and her case changed everything.
I was sitting in my small, dimly lit office, sorting through the week’s mail. Bills, bills, bills, advertisements, more bills. The usual.
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I let out a heavy sigh and set the letters aside, covering my face with my hands.
I used to be a journalist—a successful one, I must say—but I always felt like it wasn’t enough.
Stories were always unfinished, truths half-exposed, and justice left waiting. So, at 42, I quit my job and decided to become a private detective.
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It was something that truly interested me, something I had always wanted to do.
My family didn’t support me. They tried to talk me out of it, but when they realized my mind was made up, they turned their backs on me.
My husband finally had a reason to leave me for a younger woman—one with shinier hair, fewer wrinkles, and, I assumed, fewer opinions.
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And my daughter? She cut me out of her life completely. She saw being a private detective as disgraceful—especially when compared to the prestige of journalism.
Of course, it hurt. But the longer I worked as a private detective, the more I started to wonder if they had been right.
I hadn’t had a new client in nearly three months, and I had plenty of debt. People didn’t believe in a female private investigator.
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Men were assumed to be better at solving cases—stronger, sharper, tougher. As if intuition, patience, and persistence didn’t count.
Suddenly, even surprisingly, I heard a hesitant knock at the door. I straightened up, quickly smoothing my hair and shoving the pile of bills into a drawer.
“Come in!” I called out.
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The doorknob turned slowly, and the door creaked open. A girl, about fifteen, stepped inside.
She hesitated, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her clothes were too small—cheap, second-hand, sleeves of her sweater jagged as if they’d been cut off.
“How can I help you?” I asked, motioning to the chair across from my desk.
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She sat down carefully, pulling her sleeves over her hands, her long, unkempt hair kept falling into her face. She brushed it away absently, over and over.
One thing was clear—she didn’t have a mother. I had taught my daughter how to braid her hair when she was six. This girl had no idea what to do with hers.
“My name is Emily,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “I’m an orphan. I need your help to find my mother.”
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I studied her face. She looked nervous, but her eyes held something else—determination.
“She gave you up?” I asked.
Emily nodded. “Yes. I don’t know anything about her. Not her name, not what she looks like. Nothing.”
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She swallowed hard. “I’m fifteen now. No one is going to adopt me at this point. But I want to find her. I just want to see her. I need to understand why she left me.”
Her words stung. No child should feel unwanted. No child should wonder why they weren’t enough.
“I’ll need something to go on,” I said, reaching for my notebook.
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Emily sat up straighter. “I was born in this town. I’ve never moved, never been sent anywhere else.” She took a breath. “My birthday is February 15, 2009.”
I jotted it down.
“Is that enough?” she asked, her fingers gripping the edge of her sweater.
“I’ll do everything I can,” I promised.
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She hesitated, then pulled a few crumpled bills from her pocket. “I have some money, but not much.”
It wasn’t even close to what I needed, but that didn’t matter.
“If I find her, then you can pay me,” I said.
Her lips trembled. “Thank you.”
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She stood to leave.
“Wait. How can I find you?” I asked.
She scribbled an address and handed it to me. “My foster home. I’ll be there.”
I nodded, and she walked out.
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The next morning, I wasted no time. It had been a long time since I had worked on a real case.
Even though I knew I wouldn’t make any money from this one—I couldn’t, in good conscience, take money from an orphan—it still felt good to have a purpose.
The first place I went was the hospital. Our town had only one, which made things easier.
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If Emily’s mother had given birth there, the records would be somewhere inside.
One advantage of my former job was that I had connections everywhere. The hospital was no exception.
I knew exactly who to talk to—Camilla. She had been a nurse for years, and we had met back when I was covering a story about harassment in hospitals.
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She had been a source then. Since that day, she’d been a friend. As soon as she spotted me, she put down her clipboard and grinned.
“Sara!” she said, pulling me into a quick hug. “What brings you here? Please don’t say trouble.”
“I need your help,” I said, leaning in slightly.
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Camilla raised an eyebrow. “Of course you do. You never just stop by to visit an old friend, do you?”
I crossed my arms. “You were literally at my house for dinner last week.”
She smirked. “Fine. What do you need?”
“Birth records. February 15, 2009.”
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She blinked. “That’s specific. Should I be worried?”
“Nothing illegal. I just need to find a name.”
Camilla folded her arms. “That’s doable, but make it fast.”
I hesitated. “The baby was given up, probably in secret.”
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Her expression changed. “Sara, you know I can’t just hand you confidential records.”
“Please,” I said. “Just a quick look. No one will even notice.”
She studied me, then sighed. “You have ten minutes.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I owe you.”
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She rolled her eyes. “You owe me for life.”
She led me through a narrow hallway to the hospital archives. The air smelled of dust and old paper.
Camilla pulled out a thick folder labeled 2009 – Abandoned Newborns and handed it to me.
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“Be quick,” she whispered.
I flipped through the pages, my fingers trembling. February 15. My eyes locked on the mother’s name. My breath caught.
No. This couldn’t be real.
I shoved the file back and hurried out.
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Camilla stood by the door. “Sara, you’re as pale as a ghost. What happened?”
“I’ll explain later,” I muttered, pushing past her. I needed air.
I stood outside a house I had never seen before. The air felt heavy, pressing down on me.
Emily’s case had become the hardest of my career. Too personal. Too close.
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I stared at the door. My hands felt numb. I couldn’t bring myself to ring the bell.
I took a breath and reached for the doorbell. My hand hovered over it. I could still turn around, pretend I never came. But that wasn’t an option. Not for Emily.
I pressed the button. The chime echoed inside. Footsteps approached.
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The door opened, and I saw her.
Her face paled. Her lips parted in shock. “Mom?”
I swallowed hard. My throat felt tight. “Hi.”
Meredith blinked. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the door. “What are you doing here? I thought I made it clear—I don’t want to see you.”
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I met her gaze. “I wouldn’t have come if this were about me.”
Her eyes darkened. “Then why are you here?”
I took a deep breath. “For your daughter.”
The color drained from her face. Her whole body tensed. “How… how did you—” She couldn’t finish.
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Her breath hitched. Tears filled her eyes. Then, without a word, she stepped aside and let me in.
The kitchen was small but neat. She moved stiffly, as if her body wasn’t sure what to do. She pulled out a chair and sat down.
I stayed standing for a moment, then sat across from her. Silence filled the space between us.
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“Her name is Emily, if you’re wondering,” I said. “No one ever adopted her. She’s been living with foster families. She came to me to find her mother, but I never imagined—”
Meredith squeezed her hands together. “Please stop,” she whispered.
I waited.
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“I have regretted it my whole life,” she said, her voice breaking. “I tried to forget. I told myself it was the best thing. That she’d have a better life without me. And now you show up out of nowhere to remind me what a terrible person I am.”
“You’re not terrible. You were a child yourself when she was born. I just don’t understand how you hid it. How did your father and I not know?”
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“I wore loose clothes. My belly wasn’t that big. And I planned to give birth in another town, but you and Dad went abroad for your work right before it happened. So it all worked out,” she said.
“Tell her I couldn’t be found,” Meredith said suddenly.
“Why?” I asked. “Meredith, I’m a mother too. I know what it’s like to lose a child. Nothing is more painful than that.”
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She lowered her gaze. Her voice trembled. “How can I face her? She’ll hate me.”
I let her words hang in the air. “Maybe,” I admitted. “But even so, she wanted to find you. That means something.”
Meredith wiped at her eyes. “What if she doesn’t want me?”
“She wants answers. She wants to know where she came from. You owe her that.”
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She looked away. I knew she resented me. But I reminded myself—this wasn’t about us. It was about Emily.
“I have her address,” I said. “Do you want to see her?”
Meredith hesitated. Then, slowly, she nodded.
We drove in silence. The streetlights flickered as we passed. When we reached the house, Meredith didn’t move. Her fingers dug into her lap.
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“Aren’t you coming?” she asked.
I shook my head. “This is between you two.”
She looked down. Her voice broke. “Mom… I regret cutting you out. I was ashamed.”
I turned to her. “You are my daughter. No matter what, I will always love you.”
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Her face crumpled, and she reached for me. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her the way I had when she was little.
“What you’re doing is important,” she whispered. “People like Emily need you.”
I smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
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Then she stepped out, walked to the door, and knocked.
A moment later, Emily appeared. They stared at each other. Then Meredith took a breath. Emily took a step forward.
They talked. They cried. And then Emily wrapped her arms around her mother.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: My future brother-in-law was always a problem—rude, arrogant, and always pushing boundaries. But on my wedding day, he crossed a line we could never forgive. He humiliated me in front of everyone, turning my perfect day into a nightmare. That was the last straw, and my fiancé finally had enough.
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