The doorbell rang this morning at 8.30 and a friend arrived with a pot of basil as a thank you for taking her to the doctor yesterday. A journey that should have taken 20 mins took the best part of an hour due to a car crash but the lanes looked wonderful, so it was quiet a scenic route, even if poor Claire was worried about being late. She wasn't in fact but it was a lovely start to the day.
Last night the Oliver that had to be retired the other night was due to take up the role. I was desperately worried about the poor lad, aged 11, who was suffering with a bad cold and severe stage fright - having had to relinquish the role once, I was so worried that he wouldn't be able to take it up again (like getting on a bike once you've fallen off), and I stood in the wings, biting my non existent nails while I waited to see how he'd cope. I'm delighted to say that he was brilliant - oh, joys! And I stood and wept, quietly, with relief. It did occur to me later that I seemed to be the only person worried about him - me a new Girl - but I'm sure that wasn't the case. But if I was that worried, what about his mother? Oliver is an exhausting role as he's on stage most of the time, to say nothing of the running around involved, but he did a wonderful job and got huge applause at the end which was very gratifying.
Meanwhile temperaments abound between the divas with the main roles, the Old Gang who've been in every show since the year dot and ignore us lowly chorus lot, and us newbies who sit in a corner and natter. Being very overtired and somewhat weepy this morning, I mentioned this to husband who reminded me that that sort of behaviour usually stems from intense insecurity and, when performing is involved, stress, nerves and competitiveness. Dear man - he is very good at putting my mind to rest.
Today is our eighth wedding anniversary (I actually thought it was 7th and had to correct his card at breakfast time) but I won't see much of him as he's gone off to practise the trumpet this morning and I've got a matinee (my dear mate Deb is bringing her grandchildren) and then the evening performance later. At least he's coming to that, with our thespian cousins from Penzance - the harshest critics of all, so I will doubtless be in a terrible state of nerves and trip over on stage. Oh well, at least I can have a large drink afterwards without having to worry about driving home.
And tomorrow it will all be over and the forecast is for cold and rain. Doubtless I shall feel flat and weepy due to extreme exhaustion and having run out of adrenaline. But at least I shall be able to get back to editing my novel which will be a relief, and seeing my friends (and husband) again - other than in the theatre bar. And Mollie will be delighted to have some longer walks again - I've had to ration my energies this week which she doesn't find at all amusing.
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