Posted on Monday 9th June, 2014
No West End stage for us. No lights, no make up, no live orchestra, no dimmed auditorium and rustle of programmes and sweet wrappers by an expectant audience. Our stage is not nearly so glamorous. A communal carpeted living room in a care home, our props neatly ready in the makeshift wings. Our audience though is just as expectant. Elderly residents, much older than I imagined, sitting patiently as we arrive.
The room is packed. An elderly lady in her best floral blouse comes shuffling in…