Opening night!

Wilson's nervousness and agitation today reached a crescendo. Since just after breakfast he has been stalking round the house wearing his bow tie ('It's the only suitable attire for a music impresario' he told me) checking on the sTone Brothers, Antony, Tiny Toy and Polly-B every few minutes. 

I was afraid he'd have worn himself (and his performers) out by the time they went to the club, but they're all there now.

The performers are in their dressing rooms (one room for the sTone Bros, another for the more nervous backing singers, with Polly-B keeping an eye on them) while W stands outside, looking very smart, waiting to greet his paying guests. 

I have to say, he really does look the part! 

Nervous...

Tomorrow is opening night for Wilson's pop-up nightclub Au Courant, and he's starting to get nervous! 

To keep himself occupied and distract his mind, he's packing everything in the car today, ticking each item off against a checklist. 

This is a bit of a problem for Antony, Tiny Toy and Polly-B who say they don't want to spend the night in the car. 

sTony and sToneye, being made of sterner stuff, have raised no objection — probably comes of living outdoors by the fish pond. 

A night in the boot of the car will doubtless seem like luxury to them!

The sign goes up!

As opening night draws ever closer, Wilson is making his final preparations at the club. 

While we drove in to the village I asked him if he was confident everything would be okay, and he confessed that he was a little apprehensive about the bands. The rehearsals having been less than an unqualified success, he says there are still a few wrinkles to be ironed out performance-wise. 

I've come down to the club premises with him partly to hold the ladder and pass tools to him while he puts up the nightclub sign, partly to try and keep him out of trouble: if any Security turns up, we're going to have to talk our way out of a tricky situation!

Wilson gets a little bit more famous. And commits criminal damage

In Brighton, all the buses have the name of a famous resident, past or present, painted on the front and Wilson has long thought that he deserved this honour. 

I have lost count of the number of times I've explained to him that, since he has never lived in Brighton, he doesn't qualify, but it falls on deaf ears. 

'You lived in Brighton for years, New Dad, and you're my dad; ergo, I am a Brighton Resident by inheritance. Or adoption. Whatever. QED.'

His argument hasn't convinced the management of the Brighton & Hove Bus and Coach Company (who actually told him he 'wasn't famous enough'!) so this morning he went down to the Uckfield Bus Station and took matters into his own paws. 

He told me that an added bonus will be that it will reassure clubbers coming to his pop-up nightclub, Au Courant, that they've caught the right bus.

I hope there are no repercussions. I'd hate to hear the phrase 'criminal damage'…

Final rehearsals

As opening night draws near, Wilson is in the garden rehearsing the bands. 

The backing singers — Antony, Tiny Toy and Polly B — are inside The Wilson Vermilingua Museum of Old Stuff And A Robot (AKA the garden shed) partly to shelter from the rain and partly because two of them are scared of the sTone Brothers, who are standing outside complaining about getting wet. 

Happily, Polly B is able to provide reassurance as well as harmonic vocals. 

I haven't asked how the rehearsal is going, but Wilson is looking a tiny bit vexed.

Refreshments

Wilson has taken over the kitchen, where he is busy making Ant-and-Quorn sandwiches and rolls. He has also assembled the ingredients for many exotic ant-based snacks and cocktails, and a substantial stock of Cheesy Wotsits. 

I'm worried that the sandwiches may have started to dry out by Saturday, but W says they'll be fine if he wraps them in Clingfilm and puts them in the fridge — 'As long as you don't pinch them, New Dad,' he admonished. 

I think it pretty unlikely that I will be eating them. Or anyone else for that matter.

Stocking the Bar

Wilson's pop-up nightclub, Au Courant, opens next Saturday, so he's in the village Tesco spending the paltry remains of our household food budget on supplies for the Bar. 

I suppose if there's any food left over we'll be able to live on Ant-and-Quorn Sandwiches, Antburgers and Ant Cocktails until the end of the month… 

Oh, I forgot to mention Ant Nibbles!