Behind the Wall

The Wall is up at Ilkley Playhouse for the literature festival and filling up nicely with postcard 'bricks'. We've had lots of handwritten secrets from festival visitors - I'll add them to this blog over the next few days. My favourites so far are:

'I once found £785 in a carrier bag in a Co-op car park. I kept the whole lot!'

and this little story:

'As a young boy I used to play down by the side of the canal with a gang of lads. I always ended up getting chucked in with one lad in particular as the ringleader. Years later, this guy admitted to me it was because he was jealous of my popularity as a storyteller and a joker. We became good friends to the extent I was usher at his weddng. One drunken night his wife admitted to me that on her wedding day she imagined it was me waiting for her at the end of the aisle. I slept with her and told my 'friend' and stepped back to watch their marriage dissolve. Revenge is a dish best served cold.'

We'll be writing the final secrets into the script this Friday for the performance on Saturday. None of us have any idea what to expect (adulation and flowers; one lone spectator; angry secrets posters) but the less theatrical among us are starting to get a bit nervous. We're on at 9.15pm - just late enough for the hecklers to be nicely tanked up I reckon!