Glasses

 Photo: Sam Hare

Bear with me. This isn't strictly about Curious Incident; but, to paraphrase Apocalypse Now, it is impossible to tell my story without telling this one too.

I got new glasses towards the end of 2010. I was working for the National Theatre, and for Marianne Elliott, for the first time. I wore them as often as I was meant to - constantly - for five years.

For me, these glasses have sort of punctuated this tour. Early this year, while we were in Hull, a friend sent me an article which pointed out that my over-dramatic use of them in a key scene in Broadchurch was, frankly, a bit over the top.

Which was fair enough. I don't wear them on stage unless the part demands it; which isn't very often. So I leave them in my dressing room. Sometimes, people like Joshua Jenkins like to go in when I'm not there and put them on and take silly photographs.

In August, I left them on a train on the way to Sunderland. Due to remote venue scheduling, I was without them for four weeks. All I had, for a month, was my prescription sunglasses. I tried to explain to people that honestly, I wasn't trying to affect the backstage persona of some third-rate Jack Nicholson: it was simply the only way that I could see properly. Three days after I got them back, I broke them in Norwich whilst trying to prevent them from falling on the floor. They were glued. And again. And again.

Today - well: yesterday, now - on the way to work, my car suddenly caught fire in Sheffield. It was a terrifying few minutes in which I was convinced that someone would die: me, or any number of passers-by, or the astonishingly brave man who attempted to tackle my blazing car with a small fire extinguisher.

Anyway. I salvaged a few things from the charred carcass. I take a perverse kind of pleasure in that (a) these glasses survived, and we shall definitely now part company; and that (b) despite everything, the glue held.

It's a bit pre-emptive, with 8 weeks left, to be speaking of the end of a chapter. But that's what it feels like.