It's Not all glamour You Know

They say that show business isn't all glamour and at that moment I had to agree. Sprinting through the corridors of the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery, wearing my most glittery, flouncy cabaret costume and a pair of boots had more of the ridiculous about it than the sublime.

I finally caught up with Andrea, a froth of purple chiffon who had outstripped me in her trainers. I had been slowed by my shoulder bag, but then Pauline had caught up and taken it off me in mid sprint like a relay racer. Alex, the co-producer for the BBC looked relieved as we finally arrived on set.

"OK, take up positions, we're rehearsing the gala performance now."
"What! Now?" I cried, still huffing and blowing from the run.
"I look like a bloomin' poodle" Andrea gritted from behind me as she pulled her shoes off.

Andrea and I had been held up in makeup. The other three dancers, Lorraine, who had cast, choreographed and organised everything for the BBC, Janet and Sandra, my teacher had gone long ago.
"What took you so long?" Pauline had asked. "Everybody else has gone to the museum for the gala scene."
"They were putting it on with a trowel." I replied, wafting her hair as I batted my prosthetic eyelashes at her. Andrea was still in there. She'd asked for her hair to be put up on the top of her head so it would cascade down and now both makeup ladies were a blur of activity. Finally she emerged with a fetching little topknot of looped hair.
"This isn't what I asked for," she muttered "I look like a prat!"

The gala performance was the last scene to be filmed that day and it had been a very long day. It had started at 8 in the morning. Twenty belly dancers taken from three classes in the Birmingham area had converged on Pebble Mill and then been dispatched to the dance studios at the Hippodrome. There were five of us plus baggage crammed into Andrea's little car. I had my shoulder bag, costume bag and a baby's car seat on my lap and was having difficulty breathing.
"So who's our leading lady?" I gasped.
"I was told it's a dark haired woman who was someone's mum in East Enders." said Pauline from behind the booster seat and assorted bags.
"Well that narrows it down."

We arrived at the Hippodrome and headed for the studio to meet Alex. He was tall, black, relaxed and very charming.
"Hello ladies, thank you for coming. We're filming a one off drama called Turkish Delight, it's about a woman who splits up with her husband, joins a belly dance class, does a gala performance to raise money for the earthquake in Turkey and then goes to Turkey. I'm Alex and I never shout at anybody, if I do shout at anybody I'm not actually shouting at them, I'm just raising my voice. Any questions?"
I put my hand up.
"Will any water be laid on?" I was already gasping for a drink.
"We'll be having tea later. Here's your leading lady," he waved towards a blonde woman who was looking shyly round the door of the studio "Denise Welch."
"Ah, the dark haired blonde woman from the East End of Coronation Street." I said to Pauline.
"Rae Baker will be playing your teacher", he waved at a woman who could have been Catherine Zeta Jones's twin "And later on, you'll be meeting Glynis Barber who's playing Denise's friend."
My ears pricked up. Glynis Barber. She played Soolin in 'Blake's 7'. I'm not a member of the 'Blake's 7' fan club for nothing. I started bobbing up and down with excitement.

"Take a book with you," my boyfriend, Simon had said the night before. "There's a lot of hanging around in filming. It's not all glamour you know." Hanging around! I should hope! They crammed three days and five costume changes into one day of filming. There was the dance studio and the changing room and between them was the tea urn oasis. Alex would shout "Cut" and we'd pile out of the studio and run to the tea urn only to be shooed away because there wasn't time. We'd rush to get changed and come pounding back, trampling used cups and juggling new ones in our desperation, only to be herded, whimpering back into the studio.
It reminded me of a western I'd once seen. A herd of parched cattle, which had been driven across the desert, stampeding for a water hole while the cowboys chased them away because the water was poisoned. I was starting to feel like a very hot head of cattle.

"OK, bellee dance is a danca for weemen, they dance togezzer wizout inhibitions." Rae smiled at the class and continued. "Youa marst imageen that you are holding a penceel in your wagina and it is pointing daown."
Oh my God, what have I let myself in for? A drama that'll bring belly dance into disrepute. Everyone in the class scene was shuffling uncertainly and looking at everybody else from the corner of her eye. There was some furtive sniggering. I nudged Lorraine.
"Hey, I've never seen you teach that!" Lorraine was looking a bit pink. "They didn't get that bit from me."
Alex called "Cut."
"Err what kind of reaction do you want to this?" Somebody asked.
"What you're doing is great, bit of sniggering, have fun."
Thank heavens for that.
"Denise is going to faint in the next scene."
"So are we if you don't let us have a drink." I muttered.
Denise fainted, the scene was shot and Glynis Barber was heading for the back of the room. I caught her eye and smiled. She gave me a frosty look and stared me down until I was small enough to crawl back under the stone from which I'd just emerged.

"Maybe she's having a bad day," I said mournfully to Pauline over lunch, but it was no good. It's hard for a fan when an idol gets toppled. It's Blake's 6 from now on.

By early evening, the class scenes had been shot and all that was left was the Gala performance in the Birmingham Museum and Art gallery. Five of us were in that scene. The teachers, Lorraine, Sandra and Janet and two pupils, Andrea and I. Everybody else made up the audience.

"OK, take up positions, we're rehearsing the gala performance now." said Alex.
"I look like a bloody Christmas tree." Andrea muttered as she took her place. The choreography was very simple so a non-dancer like Denise could pick it up in the crash course given her by Lorraine.
It started with hip twists then swirling the veil round. My veil immediately snagged on the hem of my skirt and I managed to completely wrap myself up in it. The next five seconds felt like hours as I struggled to get out of the mummy like wrap I'd got myself into. Finally I untangling myself and continued with the dance, only to find that some members of the audience were trying to get my attention. One lady waved, pointed and made twisting motions. I looked down to find that my skirt was on sideways.

Such doubts cross your mind. Had it got like that when I was running to get there or had my struggles with the veil twisted it? And worst of all, had I displaying my knickers on National TV?
"Thanks everybody, that was great." Said Alex.
"No it bloomin' well wasn't!" I cried as I adjusted my skirt, face like beetroot. Alex looked a little fazed.
"Well it was great from our point of view."
What did that mean? I wasn't in that shot? They'd wanted one of the dancers to go wrong to make Denise look good? Displays of knickers on TV were good for ratings? They could cut me out later?

"Bring on the stunt belly button jewel." Alex shouted. We all gathered round Lorraine. "What's going on?"
"Denise's going to do a shimmy and her belly button stone will pop out and skid across the floor to her husband who ran in late to see the performance."
"What that bloke at the back who turned up late? I was glaring at him."
"I think that's Tim Dantay."
"Oh."
"Anyway, the stone slides across the floor to him and he picks it up."
"OK everybody," said Alex "You're all going to do a shimmy and Denise's stone will pop out and be picked up by Tim. "If you could all return to your spots… and …Action." We all shimmied and shimmied…… and shimmied……….. and shimmied. I was starting to go blue and my smile had turned into a rictus. Still we shimmied on. Please say cut! Please say cut!
"Cut, that was great everybody" We sagged, gasping for breath and clutching one another. "OK, end of rehearsal, now can you do it for real please."

Denise was called to the other side of the room to have photos taken and we returned to our whispering scrum while the cameras turned to shoot the husband picking up the jewel from the floor. We could hear parts of a discussion going on.
"Well I need to be looking at something."
"Well I'm sure one of our ladies will oblige… which one?"
"Mumble mumble"
"I'm sure they won't mind."
"Mumble."
"Helen," said Alex, "Would you stand on Denise's spot please."
I stood on the spot and looked questioningly at Alex. "It's OK, you don't need to do anything, we're shooting Tim. He just needs someone to focus on." So I stood there. Tim picked up the jewel, held it up and looked at it, and then turned and gave me the most smouldering look you can imagine. I was taken completely by surprise and started to go all pink and giggly. Alex shouted, "Cut" and then they did it again… and again. By the time they were happy with the take, I'd been reduced to a gibbering jelly and was having difficulty with my knees. It was my favourite bit of the whole day.