I’m Gilly Beckett

I’m a writer, but I wasn’t always.

According to my parents, I danced - true to the old adage - as soon as I could walk.  Daddy, church organist and choirmaster, played the piano at home any moment he could snatch but I didn't dance to his music which was mostly Bach and Beethoven.

Ballet student at the Rambert school; from a tiny skinny creature, I was suddenly the tallest in the class. My beloved teacher, herself a retired ballet dancer, imparted the shocking news. I had grown too tall for classical ballet. Upon my crestfallen arrival home, abandoning my tights and my torment, I still wanted to dance.

I successfully auditioned in London as a chorus dancer and I became a Tiller Girl.

There’s much, much more, but for now, maybe one more 'ballet' anecdote; during my years as a policeman's wife (sounds a bit like a penance, actually in many ways it was…)

With the approach of the Annual Police Dinner, the organiser came up with the idea of a mock 'ballet performance' for the entertainment I was invited to teach four stalwart police constables the art of ballet. I decided upon the dance of the Four Little Swans from the ballet Swan Lake, the sequence of steps being actually quite simple, it's the timing that makes it effective.

We met for the first rehearsal in the police canteen. I played Tchaikowski’s music, I demonstrated the choreography, the constables watched, but now it was their turn. They couldn’t stop laughing but after many hours in the police canteen, rehearsing, it ceased to be a laughing matter. By the night of the all-important Dinner, they had conquered the timing, sequence of steps, hands linked, heads alternately inclining and turning, a recognisable simulation of that famous 'pas de quatre'. They were ready to take the unsuspecting dinner guests by storm. Which is exactly what they did! I was so proud of my performing police constables, with their solemn faces, their muslin tutu skirts, their police boots. I doubt that any function hall in South London has ever resounded with so much laughter.

MIKE AND ME

When I met Mike, he was trying to come to terms with his own marriage break up. He and I were instantly attracted.  Re-adjusting was far from easy and we actually parted on two occasions but sensibly realized that we were totally wrecked without each other.

On 18th September 1997 we were married at Reigate Register Office, our witnesses - one of Mike's two super bosses, and my dear friend - from Wales days (and that's  another story).  Mike took me to Venice (oh, the atmosphere for writing, and I have, too). When we came down to earth after our magical Venician experience, (we've since returned five times) we partied with family and friends in our enormous garden at Fleet in Hampshire.

RELUCTANT RETIREMENT

Why reluctant? Well, I knew that I would and did, miss working in London. All the bonuses of theatres, museums, the buzz of the city. I even enjoyed commuting. I also produced what I consider to be some of my best writing achievements during lunchtimes surrounded by city office hubbub and clatter. How strange is that?

Commuting, working, writing, and while all of this was going on, I studied for my degree, and graduated with Honours in 1998.