Entering my 54th day of quarantine, I recall how much I was looking forward to this spring in England. There were so many exciting events and celebrations planned. Several friends were throwing big birthday bashes; I was picking up a couple of awards, performing my one-woman show, going to Cannes, and most exciting of all, participating in a plethora of events surrounding the VE Day celebrations. All of the above have gone with the proverbial wind, except for, in a small way, the latter. The Queen’s Pageant Master, Bruno Peek, asked me if I could lead the nation’s toast to our heroes and heroines of the second world war.
VE Day dawned sunny and hot. Percy and I festooned the balcony with Union Flags and bunting, and at 3 p.m. I went out to face a battery of photographers down in the street. I made a short speech and Percy popped a bottle of Pol Roger. Since several neighbours and a few friends had come to commemorate with us, we went outside to join them, maintaining the two-metre rule (even though we’re the only country that demands such large distancing). We enjoyed a mini ‘street party’, laughing and joking, and for a happy hour forgot about the devastating times we’re living in.
As an actress I’m quite accustomed to enforced periods of idleness; for most actors it’s normal to be out of work most of the year. So I’ve managed to fill this boring ‘Covidacation’ quite well: four newspapers, three cups of coffee and two morning chat-shows kill quite a lot of time. But I have to admit it is now becoming paralysingly tedious. I miss my children and grandchildren, the camaraderie of friends, and going to theatres, shops, cinemas and restaurants.
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