Friday, 22 July 2016
The Pudding Provides Proof
I went to my piano lesson the morning after the Guildhall Rag Week Revue. I'd sung "The Stately Homes of England" in black tie, and danced Swan Lake Act Two in sequins and feathers glued onto forty-six doilies. Professor Peppin said how she'd enjoyed me singing the Noel Coward, but who on earth had that pudding of a girl been doing the ballet?
She refused to believe it had been me until I stopped playing Schumann and did lame ducks round the Bechstein...