I step into the wings and the state of it all hits me. The hum of a packed, expectant crowd ready for a show. I inch my way down along the short passage and there, standing in the cubbyhole space backstage like a beautiful lost waif, is Ben Whishaw. It hits me how different he looks in full costume. We lock eyes and hug. We hold each other for a few moments, trying to breathe in sync and to connect. We can both feel the adrenaline pumping and rushing through each other. A final squeeze and I turn away and
We were lied to, demeaned and smeared, say hospital inquiry families
...
Read moreDetails

.jpeg?width=1200&auto=webp&crop=3%3A2&ssl=1)
