I step into the wings and the state of it all hits me. The hum of a packed, expectant crowd ready for a show. I inch my way down along the short passage and there, standing in the cubbyhole space backstage like a beautiful lost waif, is Ben Whishaw. It hits me how different he looks in full costume. We lock eyes and hug. We hold each other for a few moments, trying to breathe in sync and to connect. We can both feel the adrenaline pumping and rushing through each other. A final squeeze and I turn away and walk back to the edge of the wings where we are to make our entrance.
My breathing is steady, but my heart is pump-pump-pumping. This is as close as I get to full-on nervous. I am not afraid though. It’s excitement; anticipation; a sexy, knowing thrill. I know there will be a split second of sheer terror when the call comes though. The moment you know you’re past the point of no return.
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