Always the true professional, it never usually took Shirley long to rehearse, but for a television appearance a few additional aspects had to be considered, for example the colour of the dress or whether it would reflect too much sparkle under the television lights. While we waited outside the theatre fans would often speculate about the dress Shirley would wear – would it be gold, silver, or maybe pink? One thing was fairly certain: it would be a Douglas Darnell. Douglas was born in London in 1933. Although self-taught, he became a successful couturier and was the man behind the ‘Darnell of London’ label. Stars flocked to seek his creations. For more than fifty years he created stunning stage gowns for Dame Shirley, who later described his talent as ‘magic’.
We returned to the backstage area mid-afternoon and were pleased to learn that Shirley had not left the theatre. It was a lovely sunny afternoon and we waited for signs of movement from the stage door. Then slowly the door began to open and Shirley walked out into the small group of people waiting to catch a glimpse or looking for an autograph. Sharon and Hazel followed closely and I was delighted to see Sharon carrying the chocolates I had given to Shirley earlier. A few people obtained Shirley’s autograph and Dad asked if he could take some photos, to which Shirley agreed. He took a few shots while Mum chatted and wished Shirley all the very best for her evening performance. Shirley seemed very happy chatting with us and I like to think she recognised she was amongst people who were solely there to express their love and appreciation of her.
In a few hours we would be able to show our appreciation by offering our greatest gift, applause, but first we had to queue behind the sign marked, ‘Royal Circle’, which had been positioned outside the front of the theatre. To be at the front of the queue meant excellent seats, but we would need to remain in the queue for an hour to an hour and a half before the doors opened. Of course it was worth it.
The theatre doors opened and we were directed up the staircase to the royal circle where we headed towards our seats at the front. With the television camera nearby, the seats didn’t get much better than this and I was reminded of the first time I had seen Shirley, from these very same seats. We knew that even if Shirley didn’t see us, when the lights went up, without a doubt she would hear us. It took a little time for everyone to be seated and then the initial warm-up with the audience began, during which those butterflies of mine took off for their journey. I find all shows drag a little when you are waiting to see the last act, but we enjoyed playing ‘Beat-the-Clock’. This was a game that took place in the middle of the show, in which members of the audience were selected to take part. They were given a task which they had to complete within an allocated time, which ticked away on a large clock, hence the name. Thinking back, it all seems a little silly now but the game was a fundamental part of a show which, at its peak, achieved TV audiences of 20 million viewers.
Once ‘Beat the Clock’ had finished the curtain closed in preparation for the finale. If you were sitting at home watching the show on television, the adverts would appear before the cameras finally switched back to the London Palladium. The show’s compère, who I believe on this occasion was Norman Vaughan, took to the stage and probably told a few jokes before introducing Britain’s very own international singing star, Miss Shirley Bassey. I have forgotten the introductions over the years, but the sound of the audience welcoming Shirley home has remained with me. Like me, the audience just wanted to hear Shirley sing and be a part of the magical experience her performance could generate.
We were treated to five songs that evening, one, ‘The Name Game’, about a game of variations with a name, had been a big success for Shirley Ellis, who wrote the song with Lincoln Chase. This unusual choice showed Shirley’s sense of fun along with her ability to make any song her own. The audience loved her cheeky interpretation, rewarding her with laughter and loud applause. My favourite song that evening was the fast tempo number, ‘You Better Love Me While You May’ and although I had told myself I should remain seated as we were on television, I rose to give Shirley a standing ovation. I was not alone; other members of the audience, including Mum and Dad, joined in the cheering. The lights went up, lighting the entire audience, as Shirley looked towards us and acknowledged our applause. We were convinced she had recognised us and cheered even louder as the curtain finally fell. It had been a fabulous day and, yes, Shirley wore a lovely pink dress!
I should have stopped dreaming during the weeks ahead as I had exams to take at college, but I didn’t. My results weren’t very good but this was partly expected since I had chosen to study sciences, subjects not taught at the girls’ school I had attended. However, I must have acquired some information during my college course, because I made an impression at an interview held in the physics department of Queen Mary College, University of London. The next day I was offered the full-time position of junior laboratory technician, although one day a week I would be attending Paddington Technical College, in London, to study for job qualifications. I was delighted to accept the offer and looked forward to starting work in September.
Back in May, work had not been on my mind as I waited for the postman every morning, hoping our tickets for the Portsmouth concert would soon arrive. After a few days an envelope dropped on the mat, which I hastily opened to discover three tickets, numbered A13–A15, had been reserved for us. ‘Front row, front row,’ I called out. What magic.
The day finally arrived. Dad found driving along the A3 to Portsmouth on a Sunday a pleasure. Although we didn’t know the route very well, I had become a fairly good navigator during the last year, so armed with my road map, Dad happily trusted me when I called out the necessary directions. However, on our journey down to Portsmouth, neither of us realised how important map reading and my directions would become during our journey home.
The Guildhall at Portsmouth, an impressive building in Guildhall Square, was probably Hampshire’s biggest concert venue and is still used today for a wide variety of performances. I remember the stage-door entrance, accessed by climbing a few steps, as very tiny. I found the rear of the building rather cold, preferring the ‘backstage atmosphere’ of the Winter Gardens, Bournemouth. Yet even today, when I find myself on a train to Portsmouth Harbour and I spot the stage-door entrance shortly after the train leaves Portsmouth main station, the memories of those wonderful concerts Shirley performed at the Guildhall come flooding back.
That Sunday in May, we waited to welcome Shirley on arrival. During our wait we had spoken with fans then, following Shirley’s arrival, Dad spoke with her chauffeur about the journey from London. I remember feeling it a little odd when I heard him ask Dad what make of car we owned. He then said jokingly, ‘I’ll look out for you in my mirror on the way home, and then you can follow me.’ I assumed this related to Dad not being sure about the route through London and thought no more about it.
As we entered the theatre that evening, I was feeling very excited and rather special as I took my seat in the front row of the stalls. Trying to control my excitement didn’t get any easier even with Mum and Dad by my side. Seating so close to the stage probably made my nerves even worse but I wouldn’t have changed my seat for the world. The first half of the show featured Cyril Stapleton and his Showband, with vocalists Ray Merrell and Peter Wynne. The band, compiled of well-established musicians who frequently played on radio and TV, presented a good programme of music ideally suited for the first half of the concert.
During the interval you could feel the atmosphere building as people returned to their seats. Lights dimmed, the orchestra started to play and someone offstage was heard to say through the speakers, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the Fabulous, Miss Shirley Bassey’. Maybe not the exact words, but I am sure you get the picture! The spotlights rained down and suddenly right in front of me in a gorgeous, sparkling gown, stood Shirley. Smiling, acknowledging the applause, she looked directly at me and went into song. ‘You’d Better Love Me While You May’, ‘Please Mr Brown’, ‘If Ever I Would Leave You’,