At the moment we have a couple of thespians sleeping in the top bedrooms of our house, not that they weren’t expected – we invited them. You see, our clever friend Martin who lives two doors up from us has written a play called “Beyond Expectations” (a sequel to Dickens’ “Great Expectations”) and Martin’s eldest daughter, Jess, just so happens to be the professional actress who is playing the leading female role of Estella.The play has had excellent reviews in Edinburgh and is now doing the rounds in the West Country (where we live – in case you don’t know already). The play will be aired locally at The Ice-Factory in Teignmouth on Tuesday and Wednesday nights – be there or be square! – and we’re going to see it tomorrow night. Needless to say, Chris and I are expecting the play to be beyond expectations.

And what of those actors sleeping on our top floor? Of course, they are members of the cast and when they aren’t sleeping at our place they are either rehearsing (somewhere else), or sustaining themselves at Martin’s. We don’t see the actors because they come in last thing at night and leave early in the morning. Last week I met one young man on the stairs but I didn’t meet the other of our thespians until yesterday, when I popped over with a birthday card for Catherine. In fact, I met four of the cast (including Jess) but not the one I had met on the stairs – he was taking Sunday off.

“I’m expecting great things even though ‘Great Expectations’ isn’t my favourite of Dickens’ novels,” I joshed, “I hope it’s more upbeat than ‘Great Expectations’.”

“Oh it is,” assured Martin.

“But four of them die,” said one of the actors (and the others called out the names of the characters who meet their ends during the play).

“No they don’t,” denied Martin.

“Well we should know because our characters die,” said the blond actor.

“I should know… oh, I suppose you’re right, ” said the author looking a bit deflated (in an over-acting way) before turning to his cast for support, “but it’s definitely not downbeat – is it?”

“I’ll tell you what is downbeat,” said Jess, rallying (and by way of prevarication), “Sally, now do you remember my cousin Rachel?”

“The book by Daphne du Maurier?” I asked.

“No, my actual cousin Rachel, Aunty Sue’s daughter – you know. I’m sure you’ve met her – she’s the blonde one who is very short,” Jess laughed.

“Oh yes, I remember,” I answered.

“Well, I know I’m not very tall at five-foot-two,” said Jess, “but my cousin Rachel is only four-foot nine inches tall and when she was in a play…”

“Is she an actress too?” I interrupted.

“No, I’m telling you about years ago when Rachel found out what part she was to get in “The Wizard of oz”, which was her school play, ” Jess continued. “They put all the names of the actors, and the parts assigned to them, on the school notice board.”

“Like they used to do with exam results?” I asked.

“Exactly,” confirmed Jess, “so imagine how down Rachel felt when she read that her part was to be…”

“A dwarf – one of the…” I tried to remember the name.

“The Munchkins!” the thespian who sleeps at my house found the right word.

“No,” laughed Jess, “much worse and more embarrassing than that!”

“The ‘Wicked Witch of the West’?” a young male voice beat me to it.

“No, that would have been great,” scorned Jess, “Rachel was given the role of…. the Shrinking Wicked Witch of the West!”

“Not when the witch has water thrown over her and she shrinks to nothing?” I asked. “But surely she didn’t have any lines?”

“Oh yes she did,” Martin replied holding up his arms and bending his knees, “I’m shrinking!”

I had told Chris I was popping out for a few minutes but I was out for some time… luckily Chris had no great expectations!

Our thespians are the two with the beards!