Anyway, got our bags and went out to meet Feliciradeya. She informed us that we were due at the New London Theatre to hand out those T-shirts around 1:15 PM, before the matinee. So we lugged our baggage onto the tube, bound for the County Hotel. This was no small feat, you understand; three bags full of shirts along with everything else we needed for ten days in Europe is nothing to be taken (ha!) lightly. If Feli hadn’t been there to help I don’t know what we would have done.
We checked in at the hotel and dumped everything up in the room. Feli had labels for the shirts so we put those on now. There was one for each of the cast and about forty or so extra for the orchestra and crew to fight over. It was the ones for the cast that we labeled, then Feli had the idea of putting them in alphabetical order so we had t-shirts spread all over the tiny hotel room as we tried to get them organized. Daddy was taking a nap while we did this, not sure how he managed it.
Finally they were all ready and we stuffed them back into their bags. We were running out of time so Feli elected to take a cab to the theatre. This was fine by me since I was about to drop with two heavy duffels (who knew shirts could weigh so much?) slung one on each shoulder. We got into the cab and realized it might be faster to walk as there was something of a traffic jam. Finally got through, though, and arrived at the NLT right on the dot of 1:15. Had Leon, the stage door guy, call the manager, Roger Bruce for us then we gave Leon his t-shirt. I don’t think he realized he was going to get one as well because he seemed thrilled. “Look, everyone, I got a t-shirt!” He couldn’t stop exclaiming over it so I was starting to feel that all the muscle strain might have been worth it. :~)
Then Mr. Bruce arrived and introductions were made. As soon as I opened my mouth and told him my name he said, “Oh, are you from America?” Geez, do I stick out that bad? He seemed impressed at the whole project, but more so that the shirts had come all the way from America. We chatted as he took us into the lift and up to the next level. He explained that since this was the last week they were having all sorts of last minute crises and we would have to do this fairly quickly. We assured him that we understood and followed him through the theatre out into the foyer.
Just as we came out someone spoke to him and he turned to us and said, “I’m sorry, ladies, but I’m going to have to leave you for a moment. Just stay here and I’ll be right back.”
We nodded and settled ourselves at the top of a flight of stairs that led to some of the higher seats. It was then that I noticed the people down on the floor. It was the cast warming up. Oh. My. God. There they were, some in warm-ups, some in costume, some in makeup, some not, all stretching not six feet away. And closest to me was Clinton Brown, my favourite swing from last year, partially turned away and kicking his foot up behind his ear. What a sight! I confess I gawked for a couple minutes before I pulled myself together. I don’t think it was very long before Mr. Bruce came back, but it felt like an eternity. Not that I minded this unexpected chance to ogle the cast, but I felt awfully conspicuous standing up there with an armload of shirts.
Finally Mr. Bruce gathered the cast and brought them over to where we were. He may have told them what we were there for, but I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention as Clint Brown and Ben Tyrell (Mistoffelees, who has beautiful green eyes) had settled themselves near me. Then they all looked at us expectantly, and the fact that I didn’t panic right there is a credit to my own self control.
“Okay,” I announced, “we have these in alphabetical order so it’ll be kind of like in school. When I call your name come and get your shirt.”
Well, that sounded semi-intelligent despite the American accent. (I was feeling a little self-conscious about that now, thank you so much, Mr. Bruce.) Then I called the first name, Matthew Attwell (Victor). Well, naturally there was no response. Feeling a fool I called it again and someone (I think Jack Rebaldi (Munkustrap)), shouted, “Alphabetical order, Matthew. Come and get your shirt!” Turned out Matthew was at the back of the group and couldn’t get through.
After this somewhat inauspicious start it went better. Mr. Bruce helped with calling out the names, probably because he wanted to hurry it along. Most of the cast seemed amused by the whole thing and thanked us enthusiastically. After we’d given them all out we were taken to the quick change room (which is much bigger than the one at the Winter Garden) where we deposited the remainder to be claimed by those who hadn’t been present and also all the backstage folks. Mr. Bruce thanked us again and escorted us back to the stage door. On the way we passed some of the cast and got more thank yous. I was really starting to feel good about having been a part of the project, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t immensely glad to finally get rid of all those shirts.
Back to the hotel where I changed for the show, then we walked back to the theatre (joined by Dad this time, he napped while we were away) and around the corner for dinner at an Indian place. I had never eaten Indian food before, but Feli has and was able to recommend a couple dishes. I had lamb korma which was quite good. We did a little shopping in Covent Garden and then back to the theatre for the show.
Okay, I saw Cats three times while in London, not counting the final show in Covent Garden, and there wasn’t enough variation for me to justify doing separate reports on each one, so I’m now going to combine those three shows in one, noting as necessary where things were different: