Stay positive, Sid, will you please?‘ implored Candy on a long, controlled out-breath. 

Gary  continued.  "Remember,  keep  it  fresh,  stay  connected,  keep  it  lively,  say  the  lines 

like it‘s the first time and most importantly of all,  don’t  let the audience intimidate or goad 

you in any way. Interaction is great.  Retaliation  is not. Don‘t let them rile you. Don‘t give 

them that satisfaction. Fifteen minutes, please!‘ and with that Gary closed the dressing room 

door on them, like a jailor.

Sid  began  his  nightly  warm-up  now,  a  murmured  incantation  of  I-hate-this-job-I-hate-this-job. Beyond him sat Kwame, topless and forlorn in tattered trousers, hands jammed in 

his  armpits,  head  lolling  back,  meditating  or  trying  not  to  cry  perhaps.  On  Emma‘s  left, 

Candy sang songs from  Les Miserables  in a light, flat soprano, picking at the hammer toes 

she‘d got from eighteen years of ballet. Emma turned back to her reflection in the cracked 

mirror, plumped up the puffed sleeves of her Empire line dress, removed her spectacles and 

gave a Jane Austen sigh.