When we had to stay indoors […] we had to be very inventive, and there was one game we played which even now after half a century has the effect of making me feel the laughter gurgling up inside me albeit that the tears for those happy carefree days, “where I cannot come again” are not far behind. This game was played first thing in the morning, and we called it “Balcony Seats”. It was always great fun except for Mum, who had to cope with the dishevelled bedclothes afterwards, but she never forbade us to play it. I must explain that the cinema at that time was in its infancy, and it was a very rare occurrence for us to go […] To us, the height of affluence and luxury was the balcony at “The Bijou”, seen only from our lowly and cheapest seats in the front of the pit. So when we played our game, the bolsters, pillows and bedding were piled up into a high heap at the end of the bed. We took it in turns to act as commissionaire standing at the door calling out “Balcony seats, any more for the balcony seats?” whereupon the “customers” would perch up on top of the bedding pile joined by the “commissionaire”. Then one of us (we also took our turn at this) would perform at, and on the foot of the bed, singing, dancing and doing tricks to amuse the others.