Dr Who?

They say you can tell someone's age by asking them who "their" Dr Who is. In my case, it was the white curly-haired Jon Pertwee, accompanied by Elisabeth Sladen's Sarah-Jane Smith. He was apparently my mother's Dr Who too, as she showed an inordinate amount of interest when Jon was scheduled to star in a production of Alan Ayckbourn's "Bedroom Farce", a play near which she would normally never be caught dead. Somehow she convinced herself it was suitable for an early-teens audience and we headed out to Eastbourne's Devonshire Park Theatre in the early afternoon, so that we would be first in line.

We bought our tickets about two or three hours before the doors were scheduled to open. Oddly, our first choice (center front row of the balcony) had two seats still available - lucky us, right? We were too poor to kill time by shopping or visiting any of the nearby amusement arcades, so we sat in the car and passed the time by playing 'I Spy'. Being December in England, it started to get dark quite early, and soon the street lights came on in the side street where we were parked. Suddenly, my mother became alert - "Look! That's him, isn't it?" A tall man with a mop of white hair was walking past our car towards the stage door. She glanced at me, and could see her terminally-shy daughter cringing at the thought of all the embarrassing things her mother could do right now. I don't remember whether words were exchanged, or whether looks were enough but in the end she remained in the car, watching her idol disappear into the distance and taking her chance of a chat and an autograph with him. I do admit to a little guilt at the memory.

As soon as it came time for the doors to open, we were there, eager to take our seats. Funny - there was no line. Oh well, still plenty of time before the performance. People would be filling the aisles soon enough. We sat, and waited. And waited. A couple more people came in and sat a few rows from us. Down in the stalls, we saw another two people. A lone gentleman came in a few minutes before the curtain was about to rise. And that was it. As if by silent agreement, all seven audience members spread themselves out among the empty seats to give the best impression they could that the audience was larger than it actually was. The play started and it soon became apparent that Ayckbourn's bawdy humour wasn't quite what my mother considered suitable for someone of my age, though I remember enjoying every moment - even though the plot was intensely convoluted. As the actors took their curtain calls, we did our best to provide the traditional sounds of appreciation, but it was obvious how few of us there were. Perhaps the weekend performances were better attended. Afterwards, we passed by the stage door on the way to our car, my mother lingering a little but realizing it would be a long wait until the actors were changed and ready to leave the theater.

And then Tom Baker took over the role of Dr Who, and life was never quite the same again.