Sadly, I do remember Pope Peter on Gems, even though if you'd blinked you'd missed it. One day, when I finish my therapy, I will write a book about it
(look, buy it - just buy it and don't forget to put it on your insurance).
One cherished(?) memory is of what was, I believe, his first night of presenting and poor Rachel Hatton had the enviable task
of introducing him to the masses. This was then the late night slot (11.00 pm, I think). Well, of course he kicked off straight away, shouting and gesturing, smirking and talking over Rachel, moving around the set and doing a poor man's Larry Grayson, the only difference being that Larry could be funny. Rachel stood there looking as though she'd been hit by a bulldozer. I must say I admired her for the way she remained calm, all the while looking at the camera with her eyebrows raised about 6ft and her jaw somewhere on her feet. In the end, I think she just said something along the lines of 'you'll be with Peter for the next x number of hours, see you soon everyone' - and then she skedaddled. Personally, I would have felt like punching him where it hurts if I'd have been her, but all credit to Rachel she remained professional, although quite obviously shell-shocked, poor soul. She's a better woman than I, that's for sure.
He just wanted her off set and gone, made it completely obvious, so that he could start his "act" for the masses. OH and I couldn't believe what we'd just seen - we'd deliberately tuned in for the laughs, but just looked at one another and said "what the...?". Husband said a sentence ending in something like "rude git", I seem to recall. We still laugh about it. So much for one big happy family crapspeak - his ethos was seemingly 'don't let anyone upstage me, I'm the star'.