Oh dear. It all "kicked off" last night (I think that's the common phrase these days, isn't it?). I'm not sure how it all started but I know how it finished - with Gordon and David storming out of rehearsal before we'd even begun. Our 'on loan' director, David Mumford, is a very easy going sort of chap so I can't imagine he said anything untoward. All I know is that they were having a discussion about the set just before we started and voices got raised. Which was not at all helpful to Felicity and Audrey who were trying to learn their lines for that night's scene (Audrey has enough trouble learning them at the best of times). I was too far away to pick up on it all, as I was at the other end of the hall chatting through costume requirements with Mrs Cavendish. She'd been having great difficulty trying to find a French maid's outfit until Thelma said we could borrow hers. I've tried to ring Gordon this morning to get the bottom of it all but he's refusing to pick up the phone. I know he's there as his car is on the drive. Audrey said that David was trying to tell Gordon that it was vitally important that the rocket can fly in at the end of Act I and that Gordon got on his high horse about not having enough budget and that "it was never like this when Reverend Reg directed, he just left me to get on with it."
We had to cancel the rehearsal in the end. It's rather tricky rehearsing without the director, although we did wait for 45 minutes to see if he was coming back. We're due for another session on Friday so I must try and pour water on troubled oils and get this show back on the road.
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