"Forgiveness is the key to happiness" - A Course in Miracles

This wonderful woman has been owed a public apology by me for a score of years.

We appeared together on the stage of the Old Theatre at the London School of Economics in Houghton Street in 1950 during the LSE's annual revue which, that year, was entitled Freeziesta.  I have already referred to this performance in the section of this book devoted to Ron Moody.

Many years later, when my son-in-law, Tony Jenner, was Assistant Stage Manager at the Churchill Theatre in Bromley, Kent, Fenella had a leading role as the Wicked Witch of the West in their Christmas production of The Wizard of Oz.  Tony knew of our early connection and casually mentioned this to her.  She did not remember me - hardly surprising after 30 years - but certainly recalled the performance, which was actually a focal point in her career, since her meeting Ron Moody on that occasion led directly to her first professional engagement.  Anyway she let Tony know that she would be happy to meet up with me, if he could arrange it

Which he did.  And, after the performance that I attended, I went back stage with Tony to meet her in her dressing room.

Well, I have no idea what may have happened, or failed to happen, during our time together on the LSE production, but clearly something had lodged in the recesses of my unconscious mind, because the first thing I said in greeting her - and in minimum fairness to myself, it was intended as a joke, albeit in putrid taste - was "Darling . . . it's wonderful to know they're still type-casting you."*  

She reacted as if I had slapped her in the face.  There was a similarly astonished reaction from Tony.  And my immediate action was to attempt to repair my faux-pas by means of a further joke, that I no longer recall but do know that it fell as flat as a pancake and - instead of just saying "sorry" - I compounded this exercise in bad taste by another feeble attempt at humour. 

Following this we did speak for a while about the revue we had both appeared in at the LSE and I did compliment her belatedly on her performance in the Wizard of Oz, but Tony got me out of there as quickly as possible.  His displeasure with me was pretty apparent and he also let me know that Fenella herself was going through a pretty tough personal period at that time, and hardly needed any further aggravation.  So, what should have been a joyous occasion for me was exactly the opposite and I had also succeeded in making two other people unhappy.

It's a long time to wait for an apology, but Fenella you have been a wonderful person and an outstanding performer for so long . . . and long may you continue.  I am sure you forgot the incident years ago, but I now wish deeply and humbly to offer my apologies.

And to you, too, Tony;  to whom I also owe a further public announcement, to which I have devoted a separate section HERE.

*  In partial explanation of my opening remark to Fenella, her role in the LSE revue necessitated her acting as the "wicked" member of the trio that comprised Naomi, Fenella and myself.  The lyrics of the number that Fenella performed in the revue went:

Life was gay, on top of a load of hay,

You never knew exactly who you'd meet there.

For sometimes it was Ted, and sometimes it was Fred,

And sometimes, though I'm loath to admit it, it was both.

I went astray, on top of a load of hay;

I'll remember it until my dying day.

It's so easy to lose a needle in a haystack . . . but

There are other things it's so easy to lose instead.