Friday morning and our show is a sell-out. The hottest ticket in town. We opened yesterday to an audience of sixty children and forty adults and they loved it. I know because they didn’t fidget or talk or start a ball game in the aisles. And on stage, hardly a glitch. Except for the moment the writer, director and blogster, having a senior moment, exited the stage prematurely, leaving Prince Charming to improvise the whole business of reuniting Cinderella with her shoe. Duh!

Last evening was a triumph. We know because people came backstage to tell us so. Our only problems relate to the antique electrics of the theatre. Flip the wrong switch  –  and it’s easily done  – and instead of plunging the stage into dramatic darkness for the entrance of the Blues Brothers you turn off all sound. We also discovered that one of our misdirected spotlights makes anyone in row 14 feel like they’re being interrogated. It has to be moved before some migraine-sufferer sues us. The question is, who’s going to climb up into the rafters to do it?

Not much left for me to do today. A Meet the Cast tea party for some of our sponsors. Shirts to iron for Mr F and myself. And a blitz on my laryngitis with a miracle remedy called Tantum Verde. Oh, and the sad job of telling the people who are still phoning that there no seats left.

‘Not even a small one?’ an Italian lady just asked me. I felt so bad turning her away.

She’s going to call back at 5.00 to see if we’ve had any returns. I guess we could squeeze her in on a stool.