Emergency Warnings at The Word

Tags

A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens, Gerald Dickens: My Life on the Road With A Christmas Carol, South Shields, The London Marathon, The Word

On Friday 23 December I finished my 2022 tour by performing at the Guildhall in Leicester. On Sunday 23 April, 4 months later, I performed again, for the first time since my various medical shenanigans laid me low. A quarter of year is a long time to be off the stage and I was worried that I may be a bit ring rusty. The show in question was my adaptation of The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, one of the very first shows that I adapted in the early 1990s.

A few weeks ago I started to go through the lines and to my delight discovered that they came back to me as quick as you like. On the whole my various scripts settle into different tiers of memory, there are those that I can just step up and perform with little preparation (A Christmas Carol, Mr Dickens is Coming! and Nicholas Nickleby fall into that category). Next there are a couple of scripts which are NEARLY there, The Signalman and Doctor Marigold need a little work before I perform them, but not much. The next tier has one script in it, and that is Great Expectations, which needs quite a bit of rehearsing before I am confident of taking it onto the stage, and then there is a collection of old shows that I haven’t done for years, any one of which would need me to start from scratch to build up to a performance (Top Hole, The Complete Works of Charles Dickens, To Begin With, A Tale of Two Cities and some others). It so happens that the week after Nickleby I will be performing Great Expectations, so most of my time over the past days has been spent on that show, making sure that the lines are properly in my mind.

Back to Nickleby on the 23rd and I was due to travel to the far North East of England to perform once more in the amazing Word Library in South Shields. Usually I would pack all of the props into my car for the journey North, but this week was different for Liz’s car has been undergoing some fairly major repairs (a replacement cylinder head gasket), and was still in the garage, and we were down to one car between us, and she would need it at home, so I hired a small van. On Saturday I loaded all of the furniture and props that I would need: the red reading desk, a chair, a frame and red fabric to make a screen, the little octagonal table and a chair (both of which I treated with furniture polish, for they looked rather faded and tired after a long period of storage), my heavy prop box containing various smaller items that I would need, including a rope noose and a large book. I packed various items of merchandise as well as my costume and I would be ready to leave early on Sunday morning.

The drive to South Shields takes around 4 1/2 hours, and as my show was an early one, starting at 2pm, I would need to be there by 12.30, which meant setting off at 7.30 (allowing time for stops for coffee and maybe a bite of early lunch.) I felt great in my little white van, and the traffic was light that early. The morning radio programme was covering the build up to The London Marathon and I felt a sense of excitement for the runners, remembering my experiences last October when I ran in the Oxford Half Marathon. I had some friends running, but the competitor I was most in awe of was my nephew Guy, who was running to raise funds for the Macmillan Cancer charity – of course this was impressive enough in its own right, but in Guy’s case he was running despite the fact that he is in the middle of his own course of chemotherapy treatment.

As the journey went on, I ran through some of my lines, making sure that the Nickleby script really was in my head and hadn’t been driven out by the hard work I’d been putting in on Great Expectations. Fortunately all the lines came naturally, and I could be sure that I would be in a safe place when I stepped onto the stage later that day. I also played my ‘Car Alphabet’ game, when I have to spot cars with the make or model names staring with each letter of the alphabet in order. Many of the letters are easy – Audi, BMW, Citroen etc, but there are a few traditional stumbling blocks, O, for instance (Skoda Octavia is the best bet, but unless I am following one it is difficult to differentiate between an Octavia and a Superb), and my real nemesis is W, for which there are only 3 cars that qualify and none of them are very popular in England, one is the Jeep Wrangler, another is a Suzuki Wagon R and the third is a Renault Wind. It was the last of these which came to my rescue on Sunday morning, for a black example was being ignominiously carried on the back of a breakdown truck in front of me. A successful journey through the alphabet always bodes well for a positive day and a good performance, so I felt very satisfied when I finally ticked off the final Z as I overtook a Vauxhall Zafira.

Into Derbyshire the heavens opened and the journey became a lot less fun, for the road surface was flooded and there was a very real danger of aquaplaning on the slick surface. I had plenty of time in hand, so took things very cautiously. I was soon through the worst of the weather and as I passed through Yorkshire and on towards Tyneside, the skies were blue and the spring colours glorious. I arrived in South Shields at around 12 and having bought a sandwich from a local supermarket I pulled my van onto the pavement outside the impressive circular building that was designed to represent an open book’s pages being flicked through, and called my contact at The Word, Pauline Martin.

In no time a door opened and together we unloaded my van. The room in which I perform is on the very top floor, so we filled one of the lifts with the equipment and made our way up.

As I set the stage I realised that I had actually brought too much furniture – all of those hours rehearsing Great Expectations had convinced me that I needed a table and a few other props, which in fact would remain redundant for another six days.

When the set was ready and I had changed into my costume it was time to let the audience in. They are a loyal and extremely friendly bunch in the North East, and I was able to circulate and chat as they took their seats. Pauline was at the door welcoming them all with a smile, but also with a stern warning – ‘turn your phone OFF or I shall be rugby tackling you at 3 o’clock!’ This may seem a somewhat severe greeting, but it was with good reason, for at the aforementioned time (when I would be nearing the end of my show) the British government was due to test its National Emergency Alarm which involved a screeching, piercing warning which eventually will be used to alert the population to fire, flood and terrorist attacks. Setting a phone to silent would not be enough, they had to be turned off completely, hence Pauline’s threats.

2pm ticked round and Pauline said a few words of welcome before I took to the stage. The beginning of Nickleby features me as me, explaining why I have chosen this particular novel to perform, and I explain the circumstances that took me from schoolboy Dickens-hater, to an evangelistic portrayer of his words. Many of you may know that the Royal Shakespeare Company’s amazing adaptation of NickNick had a profound effect on me. Fortunately for those of you who don’t know the story, it will be related in full in my new book ‘Gerald Dickens: My Life On The Road With A Christmas Carol’ to be published later this year.

Once the preamble was finished I launched into the story itself and assumed the multiple characters of various Nickleby’s, most particularly young Nicholas and his evil uncle Ralph, the inhabitants of Dotheboy’s Hall including Mr and Mrs Squeers and their daughter Fanny, the poor drudge Smike, and the theatrical troupe belonging to the ebullient Mr Vincent Crummles. I loved every second of the performance and it was a pleasure to be on stage again, working hard. As I began the very final scene, which is quite tender and quiet, of course one phone had been left on and sure enough the Emergency Alarm sounded, fortunately Pauline did not carry out her rugby tackling threat. Actually the alarm wasn’t too loud, and didn’t last too long. I brought the story to a close and to me surprise and delight the audience stood as they applauded me. I took a few bows, and then when the clapping subsided I hosted a short Q&A session. I had a bet with myself about what the first question would be, and I won: ‘What do you think of the new television version of Great Expectations?’ I will not go into my answer here, maybe that is for another blog post, but the show has certainly excited some controversy among the various online Dickens communities, with its violent, gritty, foul-mouthed and sadistic plotlines.

The questions moved on to the RSC’s production of Nickleby, and what is my favourite novel, and all too soon it was time to wind up. I stood in the room and chatted more with the audience, and sold a few items of merchandise, until the room was empty and it was time to load all of the props back into the lift, retrieve my van and bid farewell to Pauline and The Word for a few more months (I will be back there in November with A Christmas Carol.)

I had decided to stay in the heart of the city of Newcastle that night, actually in the hotel I use when I am performing at The Lit and Phil, so I would be in familiar surroundings. As I drove away from South Shields the sports radio station that I had been listening to that morning was now broadcasting the final minutes of Newcastle United against Tottenham Hotspur, being played in Newcastle – the score was 6-1 to the home team, it was going to be a lively night next to the Tyne! Sure enough as I arrived, the streets were awash with fans in their black and white striped shirts in good voice, while I am sure any remaining Spurs fans were slinking quietly back south.

I parked near to the hotel, checked in and then dozed on and off for the rest of the afternoon, until it was time for dinner. The hotel has a small bar in the lobby, mainly for breakfast, but they serve a small dinner menu too, so I sat at a table, the only diner, and ordered a steak pie and mash, It seemed to take an age to prepare and arrive, which seeing I was their only customer seemed strange, but in time the door opened and a lady appeared holding a plate. She peered all around the room until eventually her eye fell on me, ‘Is this for you?’ she asked, somewhat unnecessarily, I replied in the affirmative, and she placed the plate in front of me. When I had finished, I decided to order some dessert, and sure enough a little while later the door opened and the lady stood, bowl in hand, peering around the room again, until her eye once more fell on me. I waited. ‘Is this for you?’ she asked.

Early the next morning I started my long journey home to Oxfordshire. I always enjoy being in the North East, and this trip had been as fun and as successful as my previous ones.

I would like to finish by congratulating my cousin Guy, who not only completed the London Marathon, but completely BLITZED it. His time was 3 hours 53.15 and his split times were all under 9 minute miles – his consistency was remarkable, and this with a body undergoing the rigours of fortnightly chemotherapy. As I write he has raised nearly £4,000 for Macmillan Cancer Support, but I know he would like to raise more, so if anyone would like to support and congratulate my amazing nephew, then here is his JustGiving link:

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/guyslondonmarathon23?checkoutMode=Headless%3Futm_source%3Dfacebook&fbclid=IwAR2YE3DhVsaggDSVNSB4IdNlkVdx_-yQV35J80g5Sh06HzDjUpbU7mvVycE

Next Saturday I will be performing Great Expectations, and I will update you with how things go with that!

As If By Magic……

Tags

Charles Dickens, Dickens and Staplehurst. A Biogrpahy of a Rail Crash, Furness No 20, Mr Benn, The Didcot Railway Centre, The Signalman

When I was a child, in the years long before wall-to-wall kids TV and when there were only 3 channels to chose from, I loved a simple animated programme called Mr Benn. At this point many of my English readers will be smiling fondly and nodding their heads as their minds go back to the early 1970s, whilst my American readers will either be skipping forward to a part of this post that means something to them, or hurriedly Googling ‘Mr Benn’ to see where this is leading; let me help you out. Mr Benn was a respectable gentleman who lived at number 52 Festive Road. He wore a black suit and a bowler hat and presumably was employed in the Civil Service. At the beginning of each episode Mr Benn would walk to a fancy dress shop where a shopkeeper appeared, as if by magic. Mr Benn would choose a costume (a knight, a chef, a caveman, a pirate among many others), and would make his way to the changing room where he would take off his bowler hat, put it on the ground and then magically his suit would disappear to be replaced by the costume. a green door at the back of the changing room stood open and Mr Benn would walk through and into an adventure. It was simple stuff, lasting only five minutes, but I liked it!

Over the Easter weekend I felt a bit like Mr Benn as I put on my Victorian costume for the first time in months, because it felt as if I was returning to an adventure that had happened long ago. The start of 2023 was not easy thanks to various complications stemming from the bout of Covid that I caught during my American tour. I had noticed that one of my eyes had drooped and the pupil in it had shrunk to a much smaller size than its counterpart. I took myself to my doctor who immediately diagnosed Horner’s Syndrome, and I was booked in to hospital with great haste to find the origins of this condition. Horner’s Syndrome in itself is not serious or dangerous, but it is cause by damage to the nerves which run from the brain stem down to your neck and then back to the eye (a rather clumsy piece of engineering, it seems to me!) Damage to those nerves can be caused by all sorts of things, some of which are potentially very serious indeed. I was given a great many tests: blood tests, CT scans, MRI scans and blood pressure tests, and it was the last two that threw up the answer – thanks to Covid, the doctor thought, my blood pressure had soared to catastrophic levels, so much so that one of the arteries in my neck had split causing a small blood clot which fortunately didn’t travel north! The course of treatment was a prescription of blood pressure medication and very regular checks to keep an eye on things.

Fortunately, three months on, my blood pressure is back to the levels it should be, and I am feeling healthy and ready to tackle another year, a year which will mark my 30th anniversary of performing A Christmas Carol.

So, on Good Friday I was channelling my inner Mr Benn for my costume seemed to magically become part of me again and I was ready to go. The weekend commitment was not actually a show, but three days of appearances at our local historical railway museum, the Dicot Railway Centre which is situated only a few miles from our home. When I was writing my book about the Staplehurst rail crash I was fortunate enough to use the centre for some research, including actually driving a steam locomotive. During the holiday weekend the centre were staging a Victorian event, and it seemed like a great opportunity to sell some books and sign some copies.

I arrived at 10.30 on Friday morning, gently making my way past the long queue of public waiting to buy their tickets, as if my top hat were a special pass, and, as I was a little early, I decided to take a ride on the steam train which was waiting at the platform. I sat in a compartment and within a few minutes the whistle blew, the carriages shuddered and we were off. I was clutching a copy of ‘Dickens and Staplehurst: A Biography of a Rail Crash’ and once again wondered how Charles Dickens must have felt as the train left Folkestone on the 9 June 1865. I didn’t realise it at the time, but the locomotive that pulled my train did in fact have a connection to Staplehurst, but more of that later.

The first train ride took me the length of the centre, and then I boarded another train which took me back to the little square where the museum, cafe and book shop are situated, and which would be my home for the next few days. I was greeted by Sarah, the events manager at Didcot, who had planned this whole idea. As well as selling my books (of which she had bought a huge stock), Sarah had also produced a special edition beer which had been brewed to her own recipe by the Hook Norton Brewery Company, which still brews in the traditional ways, even having the original steam engine which used to power the brewery (indeed, they still fire the engine up once a month). Sarah had christened her beer ‘Off The Rails’ and apparently it had slight notes of orange to give a fresh citrus flavour for the summer months. Some suggested that this ale had a slight taste of marmalade, which may be very suitable for a forthcoming event when the centre is running ‘A Day With Paddington’. So, outside the shop, one end of the table was piled high with my books, and the other with bottles of beer and a tray of little plastic cups filled with free samples for visitors to taste – you can guess which end of the counter was more popular!

The Didcot Railway Centre is an amazing and vibrant place – it is very much a working museum with the focus very much on renovation and restoration. Some historical railways offer long stretches of line, giving passengers plenty of time to experience the age of steam and even dine on board, but that is as far as the experience goes. Other Rail museums, such as The National Rail Museum in York, have huge sheds with static displays, showing some of the great locomotives of the past in all their glory, but they do not run. All have sheds where restoration and repair work are carried out, but it is rare that you are able to see that. Didcot has all of this and more – the site is a breathing piece of history, the smell of coal and oil and grease and polish pervades the great engine shed (itself a grade 2 listed building dating back to the 1930s) as volunteers go about their daily tasks, and they all do it with a passion and a pride that is rarely seen in the modern world. This is no sterile visitor attraction, it is a visceral experience.

The books sold well throughout the weekend, and were especially popular with the many enthusiasts who came to the event clutching their cameras. I chatted at length to people who had maybe heard of the story and in some cases researched it for themselves. In one case a young man had actually adapted his own version of The Signalman to be performed and, by chance, he works in Westminster Abbey where Charles is buried in Poet’s Corner.

During quieter moments I took the opportunity to walk around the site, marvelling at the engines and watching the Easter Bunny reward the younger visitors with chocolate eggs. It was on one such sojourn that I ran into the team from The Furness Trust who had brought a special guest locomotive to the party.

Furness No 20 is the oldest running standard gauge locomotive in the country, having been built in 1863, and is a beautiful machine to behold, gleaming in her rust-coloured paintwork and highly-polished brass trimmings around the cab. Furness 20 was the engine that pulled my morning train on Friday, and the team mentioned that she had a special connection to the Charles Dickens story. Ten years ago the actor Ralph Fiennes directed and acted in ‘The Invisible Woman’, which is the story of Charles Dickens’ relationship with Ellen Ternan. Those of you who have read my book (and if not, why not?) will know that Ellen was on the train when it crashed just outside the town of Staplehurst, so the accident was featured in the movie, and it was Furness No 20 that pulled the train in those scenes (being the only operative locomotive of the correct age). Whilst I was chatting to the driver, a fellow with splendid muttonchop whiskers, he told me that during the filming of the aftermath of the crash, when he was attending to a lady flung from the wreck, he whispered to her ‘You know what? You should’ve got an earlier train!’ Fiennes, in his Dickens persona, was nearby and apparently hissed ‘this is supposed to be serious!’

On the last day of the event I happened to be in the staff and volunteers mess having a bite of lunch, having a conversation with Kevin Dare who had been my teacher in all things railway during the research for the book. It turned out that Kevin was on driving duty that day and invited me to join him on the footplate of Furness 20, an opportunity I leapt at! The appropriate permissions were granted and the formal slip of paper signed and I found myself in the cramped open cab of the train, with the furnace glowing and all the pressure gauges reading as they should. Kevin let me sound the whistle before he carefully opened the regulator, released the brakes, and the sheer power of steam began to turn the wheels and we were off. What a joy, what a privilege.

The weather on Monday was not as kind as it had been over the rest of the weekend, meaning that visitor numbers were lower, so Sarah and I walked around the whole complex looking for possible venues for a performance of ‘The Signalman’ later in the year. There are various sheds that would work, but the most obvious setting to me was in the open air, outside a genuine signal box. Sarah suggested that if I performed there she would bring a locomotive in behind, with steam and smoke creating a wonderful atmosphere at dusk. We do not have a date set as yet, but do watch this space, for it promises to be an exciting prospect.

I was sad to say my final goodbye to all at Didcot for I had really felt like a member of the team during the weekend, and I look forward to co-operating with them all more very soon.

In Mr Benn, the adventure over, the shopkeeper appears again, as if by magic, and leads our hero back through a door where he finds himself in the changing room again. Mr Benn changes back into his suit and picks up his bowler hat once more and walks back into the shop to hand the costume back. The shopkeeper gives Mr Benn a souvenir of the adventure, and in my case that was a copy of the stylish new guidebook which has just been produced.

With happy memories of a fun weekend I returned to ‘Festive Road’ and returned to my normal life.