The End of the Pier (Extended)
 

No, no! You sit there. I’ve got everything ready. Tea OK for you? Earl Grey with lemon? I could make coffee if you prefer?

Tea is SO English isn’t it? I feel that coffee is TOO American. We really should maintain our traditions shouldn’t we?

I’m so flattered that you want to include me in your book. It’s quite gratifying that someone of your age should have an interest in the theatre, and to have an interest in me!

Now where shall we begin?

This is my photo album. Best quality tooled leather. I bought this with my first week’s wages, missed a couple of meals so that I could get it. Good for the figure though. Everything I’ve done is in here.
I’d never wanted to do anything else, just be on the stage. Even when I was five I could recite poems and I just loved to dress up in my mother’s high heels and fur coat.

There’s just one photograph from that time. This is it. It’s very faded and creased. Father kept it in his wallet till the day he died. I never knew he had it!

Shall I pour?
The china was my mothers, only two cups and saucers left now. But tea is so much nicer out of china cups don’t you think? I keep these for special visitors. They were father’s favourites!

My mother did all the right things of course. Sent me to dance and elocution lessons, took me to the theatre to see suitable plays and even arranged for piano tuiton. I was never very musical, it was always being someone else that I loved.
Father wasn’t keen on all the theatre business. Thought a girl should get a good education, marry well and have a family. Maybe he was right!

That was my first job, after I left drama school. Just a part of the crowd scene but it was a start. It’s only the playbill but you can see my name in tiny writing at the bottom.

The trouble was there were so many of us, all wanting fame and to be loved by the audience. You needed something. Something that made you different made you stand out. I must have had it because I began to get jobs.

This is my first real stage role, I was only eighteen

That’s me! The one at the back there. The one with long blonde hair and legs that seem to go on forever. It’s the varicose veins that seem to go on forever now!
You need smile, it will come to you!

Everything was possible then. Stars in my eyes and eyes set on stardom

Look!

Here I am Charmian in Anthony and Cleopatra. It wasn’t with a big repertory company like the Royal Shakespeare but it got good reviews. This is the cutting. Even mentions my name! Mother actually got father to come to see that one. He didn’t say much but I could see that he was as pleased as punch.

It was after that that I met Richie. All of the girls in the company were head over heels in love with him. He was, of course, usually cast in the leading role. He had such a presence on stage, and those looks! I didn’t think I stood a chance but he asked me out and people began to see us as a couple. Mother was delighted.

Here we are in ‘The Importance of Being Ernest.’ Wasn’t he handsome? I really fell for him and we did have a thing going for a while.

Began to think I might leave the stage, settle down and have some kids. Father tried to persuade me that I was too young, not ready to settle down. I suppose he was looking out for his little girl.

I wonder if he ever guessed about the miscarriage?
 

The only time in my life that the theatre took second place.
 

Look, I’m rambling. Let’s get on with the story.

Then Andrea joined the company. ‘The name is pronounced Andraya not Andreea’, she had snootily told me. I think there’s a photo of her somewhere.

Now where is it?

There!

She’s with Richie.

He was Hamlet. She was Ophelia. Rave reviews for that production.

Soon after that they went to Hollywood.

The rest you know.

I continued working on the stage, got some leading roles.

This was my favourite, Abigail in Abigail’s Party even Mike Leigh commented on my interpretation. Father was too ill by then to come and see it. He would have been so proud. He died about a month after it finished its run. Mother kept all the cuttings, how she had time when she was looking after father I don’t know.
 

Do excuse me for a moment there’s something in my eye. No, no. You stay there. I’ll be fine.

There, that’s better. I’ve brought us each a small sherry and some Madeira cake. Father loved his sherry. Mother wouldn’t touch it, said it was the ‘devil’s brew’. I find it a good tonic for the nerves, especially at about this time in the afternoon.

Now where were we?

Here we are, this is Richie and her in a play on Broadway. Names up in lights the lot. They had children, one of each. Paid a nanny to look after them, careers came first. I would have given up the theatre for children but it wasn’t to be

I kept in touch with Richie for a while but SHE put a stop to that!

Last I’d heard he’d got Alzheimer’s and she was doing American chat shows. Don’t know what happened to the children!

Would you like a top up dear? No! I think I will. All of this talking is making me very dry.

Eventually my style of acting wasn’t popular any more.

My agent suggested that if I was nicer to the director I might get more parts. I knew exactly what he meant but I only wanted to get parts on my acting ability, nothing else.

This was fun, a walk on part in Coronation Street. I suppose if Ian MacKellan can do it there’s no reason why I shouldn’t. It is, like the theatre, a great British institution after all. With the wig and make up it is difficult to identify me. But I think the eyes give it away. They've always been one of my best features.
 
I could have extended my contract and done more TV work but the stage always beckoned.

I did get a few more parts in provincial rep.

There! That’s me behind the sofa. Don’t you just love the costume?

The last thing I did was a Tele ad. You must have seen it. It’s the one about dog food, the one with the Labradoodle. It got lots of awards. You don’t actually see me; I did the voice over for the granny. They’ve suggested there might be more parts for me.

But good news, I’ve just heard from my agent. He’s got me an audition.

It’s to play the Wicked Stepmother in a Christmas Panto up in the North of England somewhere, a Winter Garden or a theatre on a pier I think.
 
Strange really, the only time I ever remember going to a theatre on a pier was with Father. I was ten and we were on holiday in Brighton. Mother wasn’t feeling well so she stayed in bed. We saw the concert advertised and went to get out of the rain. It was great, not ‘real’ theatre but such fun. Father warned me not to tell Mother, she would not have approved of such frivolity!

I think maybe he’ll look down on me if I get the Ugly Sister part and chuckle about what my mother would have said.

I still miss him you know!

You will let me have a copy of the book when it’s finished won’t you?

So glad you came dear. I’m impressed that someone so young should have any interest in the theatre, which has been my life for more years than I care to remember.

Bye dear, and take care!