Ann Jellicoe writes: William Gaskill had a considerable sense of fun. I came to appreciate it during his time working at the Royal Court theatre: George Devine was the artistic director, and I was there as literary manager.
Bill directed two small plays by Keith Johnstone, the Court’s contribution to a summer drama festival in Aldeburgh, in Suffolk. The venue was the Jubilee Hall, which had one door leading to the pub next door and the other straight on to a pebbly beach. It was packed for the performance, and Bill and I sat on a window sill at the back.
The plays did not go down well. One of them was about two children finding a skull. An audience member whispered to his neighbour, the artist Ben Nicholson: “Necrophilia!”
Afterwards there was a short reception and we heard someone else say: “To think such an awful play should finish our festival.” Bill, perhaps having had a glass or two, and getting the measure of his audience, started shouting for an imaginary stick-in the-mud, calling “Where’s Colonel Basher? Where’s Colonel Basher?”
We were hustled out and continued to party on a boat, making so much noise that someone called the police. On the way back in the car we were stopped, and Bill managed not to breathe in the constable’s face – this was before the breathalyser. Once we were back in London, Devine was given only an edited version of this little tour.
