Dark days. The strange mute sound boy has now not turned up for two rehearsals. So I've sacked him.

Dear patient Iain Kerr is going to step into the breach - although I don't think he quite realises yet what he's letting himself in for.

Another of the chaps who'd promised technical support has had to pull out for various reasons.

It's a strange reverse of the CCC situation where my actors were deserting me at the eleventh hour.

I'm too scared to tell Andy, my technical manager, that I've gone so far as to sack the mute boy. Having procured invisible UV paint, he's trying to work out how we can get a sandwich falling from the sky in a venue that has no over-stage rigging...