Wednesday, 21 December 2011

Window No. 21

My parents were frequent visitors to the theatre, taking me to our local Theatre Royal at least once a month, and each December we would see a pantomime.

As a child, the romance of the principal boy and girl was pleasant enough but I would wait excitedly for the Dame to come on. Dressed in garish colours, with a suitcase of jokes and one-liners, the Dame and her put-upon sidekick would make my night.

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