I feel like I'm at the Tory conference while down in England

Sep 7 2008 Elaine C. Smith

BELIEVE it or not, I miss strange things, being away from Scotland.

It's my home so I miss my girls and my family and friends.

Some long for square sausage or Irn-Bru but I found myself watching debates from Holyrood on TV after rehearsals the other day just to hear the accents.

Most of all though I miss the sense of humour.

Yes, the Scots blaw-hard/ know-all can be a pain in the backside.

Yet, I miss the Scots sideways look at life.

At times I feel I am living in the middle of the Tory Party conference here in Chichester, preparing for Calendar Girls.

It is an area of great beauty, affluence and comfort, a million miles from the east end of Glasgow.

People are lovely, polite and kind but it feels a very different land from the one I normally live in.

I understand why many think life is the same everywhere in the UK. It is hard to imagine abject poverty if you have never seen it. Yet many ordinary folk are working hard to make ends meet.

They are badly hit by the rise in the cost of living and these are the folks Gordon Brown should be worried about. Being here has given me a lot of anonymity but the other day I was recognised by a lovely Scotswoman who reads the Sunday Mail every week.

It was in the main street in Chichester and we greeted each other like old friends. Some recogniseme from the poster but it came as a shock when a shop assistant in Boots when I was in buying make-up for the show, turned around, went bright red and said: "Wait are you the actress?

The Rab C one - I love you."

She ran off to tell the rest of the staff and I had to get my make-up wipes myself.

Hopefully it was the voice she recognised, 'cause I didn't have the wig and crimplene trousers on.

I then got a taxi home with a guy who is a sitcom addict, could quote me lines from Rab C and was cock-a-hoop to hear a Christmas special was planned.

So it's good to know there's still an audience out there.

THE previews of Calendar Girls started this weekend.

It's often said by women the last thing you need at the end of a nine-month pregnancy is a baby - because you are knackered before the real job starts.

It's the same with a new show, the last thing you need at the end of a five-week rehearsal and a production week of four 12-hour shifts is an opening night.

All we can do is hope the set works and that we say our lines and don't bump into the furniture. I'll keep you posted.