15.7.69
Well, well, and hullo. (15th July). Hope you are still
recovering properly like a good wee girl. I’ve had Fred’s alter ego in here
twice just lately ˗ a cat that is growing up to look like Fred. At least as I
remember her. (Do you know in this day and age of photos I don’t possess a
single one of you! And I’ve got three of Francisco, whom I’ve never seen.[This was a Korean orphan boy I sponsored for a few years.] Send
me one, will you? Even if you have to have it especially taken with all the
rest of the Hannagan clan.) This cat is terribly cheeky and walks in whenever I
have the back door open and food cooking. I was in the middle of a Sunday meal
one weekend, and suddenly felt something rub across my leg ˗ only on this
occasion the door wasn’t even open. What a fright. She’d come in an open
window! But she’s very like Fred, and I enjoy her company.
Well, several things have happened of interest. To go
backwards, today, Hazel and I received a summons to go and see Mr Kentish after
one of the rehearsals. Well, remember that TV business that we had going on at
the Centre a while back? And how I was shot sitting doing absolutely nothing?
Well, they want the people who appeared in that scene to go to Edinburgh in
September to shoot a scene up there as a follow-up and they pay! Everything.
Great great great.
On Sunday night I went up to town and after going to Church
in the evening at six at my little French church off Leicester Square (Mass in
French ˗ and sermon!) (it’s a beautiful church actually built with the same
sort of material as in Moran Chapel, but about six times as big, right next to
a cinema currently showing a hit film on Lesbians.) [Moran Chapel is/was in the centre of Dunedin, in the Octagon: a tiny
place that might hold twenty people.] (I’ll have to get a new ribbon.)
(Hold on...) [I changed the fading ribbon
to an equally faded red one; almost impossible to read.]
As I was saying, I met up with David and Hazel and Dave’s
flatmate John, and a friend of Hazel’s called Kathy Bird. And it turned out
that Kathy had found a flat which she wanted to move into but found that she
wasn’t going to have enough people ˗ again someone had opted out at the last
minute. I said that if David agreed (Syrus, that is ˗ the one I was to share a
flat with) it might be suitable for us to come in on. It’s a place with room
for five people and six if wanted. So anyway last night David and I went out to
look at it (after David had said he liked the idea ˗ I’ll still be going down
to Hastings though, I think; I don’t see any reason not to see a bit more of
the place) and it’s massive ˗ five bedrooms, a large lounge, a kitchen,
bathroom, and lots of funny little off rooms, that don’t seem to have any
purpose in life, and a private garden which at the moment looks fabulous. It’s
on the ground floor of an old three-storeyed house, and the place has so many
doors ˗ most of the rooms have two (?) that it looks like the set of a French
farce! It’s not actually ours yet, but Kathy and I are going in tomorrow to
look at it, so I’ll not finish this until it’s definite and then if it is you
can start addressing mail there. [A woman lived upstairs on her own, as I
recall, which meant she must have had an enormous amount of space. As for most of the rooms having two doors; I think this is nonsense. Mine did, but not the rest, as I recall. ]
Tomorrow night I go to NZ House near Piccadilly to a
reception being held by the High Commissioner for NZ for James Robertson and
Kiri [te Kanawa] before they go to NZ
for Carmen. [A recording of this production is available on You Tube, though for video there are only still shots.]
Last night before going to see the flat David and I had tea
at Alistair’s house (which he’s renting prior to getting married); actually
Dave lives there too at the moment; and very nice place it is. An old
three-storey place too, semi-detached, which means that you go up and down all
the time to get anywhere, and that it’s rather narrow, but it’s also very cosy
and comfy. And the sort of place that anyone would be happy in let alone
newlyweds.
I’ll leave the rest of this till tomorrow.
Tomorrow is now here and this morning we went up to the
agents near Oxford Circus and filled out an application for the flat. Now they’ve
got to send away for three references from each of us, which will take about a
week. I only hope that if they do accept us they don’t take too long about it,
because the date they seem to think we should go in is about three days after I’m
supposed to have left here!
This evening I went up to NZ House (after spending the entire
day mucking around doing nothing at all in London ˗ it has been so hot that it’s
impossible to do anything; a real muggy sort of heat, which is killing the
English. I sat in St James Park this arvo doing absolutely nothing except
watching the people go by for about two hours ˗ even went to the all cartoon
show to fill in time for an hour ˗ it was cooler, and anyway they had a Laurel
and Hardy, as well as part twelve of one of those old serials) for this reception for Robertson and Kiri, and
it was pretty deadly and I didn’t really meet anyone new.
Our production of Il Tabarro promises to be really something. James conducted it while I played for a rehearsal the other day, and didn’t even complain about my playing in any way. A change. But as a show it should be fabulous ˗ and will knock the audience for six. Ande Anderson, who is producing, is putting rather more into it than perhaps he would normally, because the situation rather parallels a marital situation he’s been involved in (he hasn’t said so, but it’s obvious from the knowledgeable way he speaks about the feelings of the characters involved.) [I suspect someone amongst the students suggested this and it became a reality.] I’ll be playing the celesta in the actual performances, which doesn’t mean much, as neither Schicchi nor Tabarro have much for the instrument. [Handwritten] That’s all for now. See ya, love Mike.
