I remember my first trip to the theatre. I was about eight, and I got hit in the face by a finger of fudge thrown from the stage by a particularly overzealous am-dram Widow Twankey. It was an inauspicious start to what would become a lifelong passion.
Despite the confectionary-based assault, I’m now a theatre writer; and, fortunately, my wife is a theatre lover, too.
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