“We settle down to be enthralled”
In her weekly column, Maddie Grigg shares tales from her life in rural Dorset.
WE’D been invited by Mr Grigg’s cousin and her partner to join them for a day out to see the musical “Wicked” at the Bristol Hippodrome.
The last time we all met, I wailed that my husband and I never seemed to go anywhere together, apart from the supermarket or to the Lush Places community pub, which is just across the road.
Not long afterwards, we had a message to ask if we fancied going to see the prequel to “The Wizard Of Oz”.
The show tells the story of Elphaba, the greenskinned Wicked Witch of the West, and Glinda the Good.
A week or so before the show, it dawned on us that we’d need someone to look after Ruby and Edgar.
Mr Grigg popped next door to see Champagne Charlotte.
She was happy to oblige by coming in to let them out for comfort breaks, feed them and give them cuddles.
Mrs Bancroft was leading a working party to carry out maintenance jobs in the village hall.
Upholstery on the chairs needed to be wiped down, new curtains hung. That sort of thing.
We felt a bit guilty not helping out, but we knew that Champagne Charlotte, along with others, such as Mr Dixon and Mrs Pogle, would be there. The hall is in good hands.
So this morning, I take Ruby and Edgar out for their morning walk, give them breakfast and a doggie dental stick and say goodbye to them both, before putting akey through our neighbour’s letter-box. “Charlotte will be in to see you later,” I tell them. “You make sure you’re on your best behaviour.”
They both tend to bark the house down when anyone is at the door.
To be fair, this is quite handy for me because I’m deaf in one ear and don’t always hear the doorbell.
Off we head to Mr Grigg’s cousin’s and then up the M5 to Bristol, where we stop off for a light lunch in Clifton.
Both Mr Grigg and I know this part of the city well.
His late mum used to live here, and all three of my sisters lived here at one time.
My son was also at university here.
We park on the street and then spend half an hour at the ticket machine.
None of us has the right change and there is no facility to pay by card – only by registering with a smartphone app.
A young man close by advises us that we can get the first half-hour free so we do that, which at least will give us time to find some actual money.
After lunch, it’s down to the Bristol Hippodrome, which was built in 1912 and has one of the largest stages outside London.
Its interior is splendid, with a beautiful dome, tiered seating and cosylooking boxes either side.
A young Archie Leach, who went on to become the famous Hollywood star Cary Grant, trod the boards here.
We settle down to be enthralled by the show, with top-notch singing and acting, stage set and costumes.
It really is an amazing experience.
And then, after the show is over, Mr Grigg’s phone pings.
It’s Champagne Charlotte with pictures of herself with the dogs.
They’ve been so good, she reports, although it’s clear they’ve wormed their way on to the sofa in the conservatory.
Still, at least they’re having fun.
As we wait for the rush to the exit doors to die down, Mr Grigg’s cousin begins chatting with the couple in the next seats.
It transpires that the man’s brother and his wife are moving to Lush Places in the next month or so and we know the family whose house they’re buying.
In a venue that seats almost 2,000 people, what are the chances of that?
It seems as if there’s a magical meeting of minds between “Wicked” and Lush Places, with the latter being at the end of the yellow brick road.
In a venue that seats almost 2,000 people, what are the chances of that?