My final show in Edinburgh

Friends, friends, friends,

I write to you today with a mixture of emotions: elation, sadness, relief, excitement and jubilation. Yesterday, was my last show- hence the jumble of mixed feelings. Yes, I am happy with the experience and the amount that I have learned- both as a performer and as a person; yes, I am excited about the future; and yes, I am slightly sad that the whole festival routine has come to an end. Dave- I know, is looking forward to more than six hours sleep and a slower pace of life- we never thought we'd say this, but bring on the countryside! (Or just for a few days so we can catch-up, at least).

Anyway, I'm going to tell you a little about the last performance in Edinburgh of Mildred McManus for World Minister. As far as final performances go, it was rather memorable- yet more material to one day put into my (as yet), unpublished autobiography (though in fairness, it will probably never be published because I'm not really a cool dude. Not yet. Plus, I haven't got a huge scandal to sell it with either, but you never know. Only time will tell...).

Now, before I tell you how the last show went, I would like to share with you a bit of a conversation that I had with my very good friend Elsa. It went a bit like this (and trust me, this is all relevant):

• Me: Blah, blah, blah... oh, did I tell you that I don't like coffee? But I am partial to a slice of coffee cake. Blah, blah, blah. Hope you are well! Everything is tickety-boo here in Edinburgh.
• Elsa: Glad it's going well. And ditto: I won't say no to a smidge of coffee in cake form. Especially tiramisu! That's rather lush.
• Me: Ha! Funny you should mention tiramisu, as last night I had a slice for dinner with a dollop of walnut ice-cream. It was very tasty indeed.

BRIEF INTERLUDE.... A LITTLE WHILE LATER...

• Elsa: I forgot to say, good luck with your last show tonight Mildred- I have a feeling you're going to absolutely blow the roof off! Oh, on a different note, I think we might be telepathic as I was thinking about tirimasu and you at the same time. How weird is that?!

• Me:   Thanks Elsa! Fingers crossed it goes well- thanks for thinking we're going to blow the roof off  (but hopefully we won't literally blow the roof off, because that would be a very expensive roof to replace). See you soon!

CONVERSATION COMES TO A CLOSE... ONTO THE SHOW...
 

We open the doors and the audience enter- so far so good.
We dim the lights and a hush descends- so far so good.
We begin the play and I get into the swing of things- so far so good.

Then, when I have just received (a scheduled) telephone call and am learning whether I have made it into the final four candidates for the World Minister presidency, a fire alarm goes off! So I had to put the telephone call on hold and then proceed to evacuate the theatre and then, the rest of the building. (It's fortunate really, that in the play- when impersonating an air hostess, I really do gesture to where the emergency exits are located).

Anyway, we're stood on this huge bridge outside whilst the fire alarms are blaring in the middle of my performance, no less! Then a fire engine rolls on up, but it's on the wrong side of the road, so it just cruises straight on past the venue. A few minutes later it returns- sirens blaring and the firemen exit the vehicle, run straight past the entrance of the building and into another one further along. All the while, I- with my audience, am still stood on the bridge, still in the middle of my performance. But I suppose I should concede- there was a rather peculiar smell coming from somewhere, so it was just as well we were evacuated. You know, safety first and all that malarkey.

Thirty plus minutes later, we were given the all clear and allowed back into the venue. I then resumed my show. Though I did have to explain to the official that I had (supposedly) put on hold for over thirty minutes that there had been a toast situation. Yes, that's right: a toast situation... what can I say? I was thinking on my feet.

Thankfully, the rest of the show continued without incident. But I mean, talk about unlucky! It wasn't even Friday the 13th.

When I was stood on the bridge, all I could think about was what Elsa had said to me about blowing the roof off. How did she know? How could she have foreseen such an event occurring? Does Elsa possess a secret human power that none of us have been blessed with? What else does Elsa know?

Anyway, all is well that ends well. So I would like to end with a few parting thoughts:

• My top three Edinburgh shows were (in no particular order)- Alan Palmer's Diva's of Hollywood, Kev Orkian's The Guilty Pianist and Chris Wolfe's Generation 9/11.
• The best performance I felt I gave was (funnily enough), my thirteenth show.
• I am delighted that I no longer need to flyer!
• Thank you once again to the one and only Dave- he now has legendary status and will hence forth be known as Dave the Magnificent.
• Thanks also to Dave's brother Tim, for very kindly offering us a place to stay.
• Lastly, thank you to you- my lovely readers.

I don't believe that because my time at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival is over, that is the end of things. Hopefully- in the long run, this is the beginning of my career.

So when I next write to you, I will be home following an epic road trip back with Dave. Until then, farewell.

Mildred