Notes from the Stage Manager's Box (14 page)

He was on his way to work when the fire started and the alarm sounded. He was on the escalator when the smoke belched upwards and enveloped many of the passengers on it
. Many of those clawed their way to the exit
. Colin felt his feet about to give way and the man behi
nd gave him
a mighty shove which pushed him
to safety
. The man behind fell backwards to his death.

The script of Harlequinade needs a few amendments to make it sensible to modern audiences. The Council for
the Encouragement of Music and the Arts
became the Arts Council and so on.

The cast include the actors playing the lead roles in Romeo and Juliet, a few actors with small parts but large egos and a few members of the stage crew. Looking at the programme notes now there are so many familiar names, Iris Adele Paddock, Ken Woodward, Tony Siddall, Peter Davis, Goff Miles and of course Roy Follett.

At the end of the run someone congratulated Mike Giddings on his portrayal of Jack Wakefi
eld
the Stage Manager
to
who
m
he had given
just the right balance of technical wizardry
, organisation
and blind panic. They asked him on who he
had based this study
and without hesitation
Mike
said: ‘John Barber’.  I think it was meant as a compliment.

By early 1986 with the success of Grease behind us and the production of the Double Bill going well we looked towards the November show. The Club had rarely done pantomime; although there was a production of Cinderella in 1975.

We had found a welcome home
at the Chaucer and as the Club were based in
London
the choice of which pantomime suggested itself. I designed the programme with the theme of a medieval
London
background but some wag in Stationery and Printing Department added
Natwest
Tower
to the panoramic view.

When it came to setting the rehearsal schedule and production team I had little option but to reduce my involvement. I had decided to leave the Bank and knew that I could not commit myself as fully to this show as
I had done to the
others whilst trying to establish a new business.

The set and props were hired and the stage crew were a mix of the old and the new. Penny Collins
(
now Alexander having married Clive
)
continued as MD with Clive overseeing the sound. Jim North had found his own niche in the lighting box with its computerised keyboard and settings. Iris was prompt, Cris Beal did the costumes, Janet Hough her usual steady hand as Co-ordinator and Peter Harris was Front of House.

More familiar names were in the cast and chorus but for me a little bit of enthusiasm had died. In October I left the Bank and moved to a small Hertfordshire village called Much Hadham.

It is a lovely village; it has a long High Street which is often featured in typically English TV murder mysteries.
The big problem was that it was at least ten miles in any direction from a large enough town to do the essential shopping. A bus ran every other Tuesday, market days and when the moon was full so a car was an absolute essential. The first night I drove back from rehearsals there was a thick fog which is another common element in English films and it took a long time to negotiate the narrow lanes and find the right road to turn down to my new home.

Travelling started to become an endurance test; it added an extra half hour at least to the usual forty minute train journey. It also meant that I had to cut down the after show drinks to avoid the penalties of drink driving. The effect on me was similar to what I experienced in Grease but at least I had a full day to recover. Or would have done but my fledgling business demanded that time as well. Something had to give.

The best wa
y I can describe my role in Dick Whittington
was as consultant. In the event that anyone needed an address, a number, a supplier or just a helping hand I was there. Or tried to be. I was beginning to discover what it was like living out in the sticks.

I had a lot of friends in the Bank who had children and the decision to stage a Saturday afternoon was popular. Few if any of the cast had done two performances in one day before so it was a bit of a strain on some of them.

During the week of the show I found myself like a bell boy, hurrying between the various sections ensuring things were running smoothly and carrying messages. I also found myself taking a breather in the Sedgwick Centre reception area.

I went down there on the Saturday afternoon of the matinee and found a large collection of parents and children in various stages of terror as if they had just experienced a nightmare. This was most unexpected as pantomimes are meant to be funny. They also have plenty of audience participation with heroes to cheer and villains to boo and plenty of encouragement along the lines of: ‘He’s behind you’, ‘Oh no he’s not’ etc etc.

Amongst the parents nursing their small offspring I found one of my work colleagues Steve Forbes holding on to his two daughters. When I asked him what was the problem he said that they were scared.

What could they possibly be scared of?

The answer was quite simple. Brian Moran was again excelling himself in the role of
the villain
King Rat, frightening the audience and cast in equal measure. John Hebden was once again directing and each time Brian appeared there was a loud bang, a huge flash and green smoke billowed across the stage through which King Rat materialised.

I thought it was terrific but you just can’t trust children!

Roy Follett came up to Much Hadham for Sunday lunch. We had a few drinks and a pub meal before heading back to my place.
Roy
had brought the Club archives up with him.

We had a small storage facility in
Drapers
Gardens
which
had copies of scripts and an esoteric
assortment of props that had been used over the years and then discarded. Most probably amongst that treasure trove would have been a box of anti-macassars.

We spread all the programmes, notes and photographs over my dining table and floor and reconstructed the
Club’s history. I found my direction
in life. Never have I enjoyed myself so much as organising and writing up that huge collection of memories.

At the Club’s Dinner/Dance in March 1987 the commemorative brochure was ready and my wife and I sold them amongst the members. My only regret is that after all that work I haven’t got a copy!

Pat Bacon who played Calamity Jane was one of the first to congratulate me on the
show’s
programme. It had a bit of research and Pat was happy that she was playing the role close to the original story. Almost unwittingly over the years by designing the programmes I was finding my way forward. I had also enjoyed pushing forward a production and seeing it come to life where it had been just a script in a book some months previous.

Many years later when we moved back to Hertford I used to spend a few mornings a week in my neighbours garden. Jim was in education; he had started as a teacher but now
wrote education programmes for students in di
stance learning
which a colleague translated into computer software for the Apple Mac.

I know we must have sounded to our respective spouses as a couple of grumpy old men but our views on education, politics and the social ills of
Britain
were almost identical. Jim once asked me what I would have liked to have done if I had my time again. I admitted that I would have gone into information technology. I enjoy research and then presenting that in a readable and entertaining format.

This is how my writing career developed. At first I wrote about the effect the euro was going to have on businesses. Then I wrote abo
ut social history, people who had influenced events and lifestyle such as George Bradshaw.
I spent my life between the library and the computer and my working hours were when I felt like writing. This was invariably in the small hours of the
morning. In short, I was happy and little has changed since then.

As so happens for I have seen it in others, once you leave the Bank’s employment and move away from the
London
catchment area you also lose your friends.

It is no one’s fault. You genuinely intend to keep in touch and for a short period you do.

Not only had I left National Westminster Bank I also decided that I could no longer stay with the Theatre Club. One of the Club’s rules was that only staff of the Bank could be members of the Committee. I resigned as both Publicity Manager and as a member.

Chris and I were married and for a while lived in Much Hadham and then Buntingford. I decided that my small one man business buying furniture to decorate with art motifs and childrens characters
and then re-selling was not making
enough
profit
to keep a wife and two small children so I gave that up.

We managed an Off Licence in Buntingford. It is more than 30 miles up the A10 from
London
and has no rail station and only a basic bus service. Old colleagues rang up to invite me to leaving do’s, retirement parties, stag nights and the various excuses for a drink that were part and parcel of City life.

I tried to get down as often as I could but it involved Chris driving me down to Hertford or up to Royston for the train service and then picking me up again in the early hours. All this with two children and an Off Licence to run. So my attendances at the City bars declined and so did the phone calls inviting me; people move on, that’s the way of the world.

We got married in 1988 and all our friends from the Theatre Club turned up. Jim, Peter Davis, Peter Harris and of course Roy Follett who managed to find a bar open in Bishops Stortford at ten thirty in the morning. Just in time for a quick pint before our wedding at eleven.

The life of an Off Licence Manager is not an easy one. It is long and late hours and by definition open to serve the needs of a thirsty public. It has a disadvantage over a pub in that you cannot drink on the premises; it is not called an ‘off licence’ for nothing.

After five years we got out and moved back to Hertford.
I took up writing professionally and have done
so
ever since whilst also working at first
as
part time and then full time as Hertford Town Centre Manager. When our daughter
atten
ded Primary School I
direct
ed
the school pantomimes
in her final two years
. Only parents
took part
, no kids.

I was chatting to a parent and she mentioned she had also been in the Bank
’s
Theatre Club. I managed to catch up with a few names but
Roy
had died some years
previous. A bit of nostalgia tinged with sadness and that was my last foray into drama.