In June, it seemed like a great idea; summer was coming and the prospect of being at Hampton Court and Kensington Palace in August, working on Private Lives was too good to miss. Now it is July and I am wearing a thick jumper and socks, indoors. The rain is washing away the lettuce and it is too dark to read without electricity at lunchtime. Last summer the whole town flooded and jet skiers were fined for speeding in the high street. How did I forget?
Next week we start rehearsing. For now, I am staring out the window wondering what a 1930's cocktail dress looks like with an overcoat and galoshes.