Miriam González Durántez: What do I think of Nick’s ‘Sorry’ video? It’s genius
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Miriam González Durántez certainly has a sense of humour. The City lawyer, charity patron and arguably second lady to a largely unloving nation once laughed off her husband Nick Clegg’s notches-on-the-bedpost interview with GQ as well as the “Cleggover” monicker it won him.
On the day we meet, she giggles over the Sorry pop song, a spoof remix of Clegg's apology over tuition fees that reached 143 in the singles charts on Sunday. All proceeds are going to the Sheffield Children's NHS Foundation Trust, where González Durántez is a patron. So is she happy that her charity is benefiting?
"It's very good — I'm very happy with that," she says in her appealing Spanish accent and with a broad grin. "The more money they get, the better. I'm sure the kids would be really happy and I'll go there to celebrate with them." Has she seen the video herself? "I have watched it — it's genius."
We meet in the offices of her law firm Dechert in Blackfriars, all steel, smooth surfaces and no soul. In her coral jacket and with gold rings on her fingers, González Durántez injects some welcome colour (and life) into the room. The raven-haired 44-year-old looks even younger and more beautiful in the flesh than she does in photographs.
She is here to talk about another of her philanthropic missions — with the cancer charity Anthony Nolan. She is promoting its campaign to persuade more women to donate cord blood, the blood that stays in the placenta and umbilical cord after childbirth. As it is rich in stem cells, it can be an alternative to bone marrow in the treatment of leukaemia patients and sickle-cell anaemia sufferers, yet most of it is thrown away as clinical waste.
The mother-of-three stumbled on the issue when she gave birth to her youngest son, Miguel, at Kingston Hospital three years ago. "I read that some people used to give the cord blood to private banks," she explains. "So I started looking into it and realised that it would be a better solution for everybody to have fully working public banks."
Since Kingston was not among the small number of NHS hospitals that offer cord blood collection, González Durántez tried to organise it herself. "I had nightmares about being in labour and having to cross London, so I had a discussion about whether I could pay for the transport kit and send it to the hospital. I understand now that that is not a viable option, so ... at the end, the cord blood of Miguel — or is it mine? — ended up in the bin."
She hopes to persuade more hospitals to sign up and to address women's concerns about donating. "When I asked around, I realised there were still some people who were apprehensive and there is no reason to be whatsoever. It should be a no-brainer."
What was putting them off? "They didn't know what was going to happen with it. And I suppose there is a mystery that there is a bit that has been attached to you that disappears."
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Anthony Nolan started its cord blood programme in 2008 to help the 50 per cent of people in need for whom there is no bone marrow match on its register. "It is almost painful to say it but without this they are going to die ... Either you put the cord blood in the bin or you save a life — no one should think twice about that."
This is no empty celebrity endorsement. González Durántez is genuinely passionate about cord blood and has become something of an expert. "I work with Anthony Nolan on a proper basis — it is not only for the pictures ... I like to support causes in an authentic fashion — I wanted to know about the organisation, to see it in a hospital because I could not picture it. I have seen how it is taken — from the moment the baby is delivered to the point that it gets to the courier."
The daughter of a late Spanish politician father and a science teacher mother, González Durántez studied at the University of Valladolid, then won a scholarship to study in Bruges. That's where she met Clegg, who apparently learned Spanish to win her heart (their children are bilingual). They celebrated their 12th wedding anniversary on Sunday night in the distinctly unglamourous setting of the Liberal Democrats' party conference in Brighton, and she's too savvy to say anything about her husband's shortening political life expectancy.
She's a long way from the cliché of the meek politician's wife. Fiercely intelligent and with an ultra-impressive CV (her specialism is EU law and she spent more than a decade at the European Commission), she is the bigger money-earner in their Putney household.
She doesn't consider herself a role model, though: "The role model is the woman who is the shop attendant who is there from nine to five and the money she is receiving doesn't allow her to pay for childcare and somehow she manages to give her children all the opportunities. Life is full of these kinds of exceptional women."
When I ask how she juggles quite so much herself, she points to her speedily drained coffee cup and laughs. She stresses that there are "a lot of shadows behind me making my life possible": a nanny "who is almost like my aunt and gives me orders", her mother, her mother-in-law and supportive colleagues. "There is a tendency to think women in the City have a much more challenging life than other women. I don't think that is the case — it's probably the reverse. When the ‘superwomen' say ‘everything is easy' I think it is like when models say ‘I don't diet, I can eat whatever I want'."
She thinks our culture is only adjusting slowly to the increased part men want to play in child-rearing: "In my team [at Dechert] I have lots of young men who have children, and it's not so easy for them to say ‘My children are sick so I'm sorry, I have to take care of them, I have to stay at home'."
Theirs is certainly a more modern family. Rumour is that Clegg didn't run against Menzies Campbell for the party leadership because he thought his children were too young. He took a long paternity leave and earned flak for doing the school run: "I think most people in the street thought ‘What is that about?' Of course every man who has children should be involved in their lives, that's why they have them. If they don't want to be involved, they shouldn't have them, no?" She laughs: "It might happen to you with one, but you know — three, in my case?"
In contrast, González Durántez won praise during the 2010 general election campaign for not abandoning her job to play the sidekick political spouse.
"I did bits and pieces during the weekends for the campaign," she recalls. "But I just couldn't give up my work — I guess many people couldn't do that either... I love Nick, he is the father of my children, we are in life together, so obviously I will try my very best to help him. But I don't think any of that should change me."
I ask if the added pressure of her public profile feels like an imposition: "No, it doesn't really ... I have always been very relaxed about this: my children are completely off-limits ... but in relation to me or our family life, I don't have a problem with anyone having a look, provided it doesn't mean a complete invasion of my privacy."
She considers one of her most important jobs as a political wife to be keeping sons Antonio, Alberto and Miguel out of the spotlight. Theirs is a football-obsessed household, supporting Barcelona and Arsenal ("Van Persie leaving was a tragedy in my family"), although they love to cook together: "Cooking is a bit of mystery with a bit of magic. It's my compensation for the football."
The family go to Spain every summer to see her relatives. It clearly pains her deeply to see the economic plight of her homeland: "You can feel the unemployment in the street. Spain is a very creative country and has come through many difficult situations and I very much hope they come through this well too. But it does put some of our complaints here in perspective."
For more information and to register, go to anthonynolan.org