SADIE NINE: I chat for a living but my one-woman show has made me nervous

It’s strange, I chat away for two hours, six days a week, to thousands of listeners on BBC Essex and never think to get nervous.

I seem to think I’m just chatting with friends when I’m on air. I’m always amazed when a stranger comes up and says hello and that they listen to me.

I know that sounds strange but it’s like someone commenting on a private conversation they have listened in on.

But, when you are doing a live show, there is no getting away from the fact that there are people listening.

Judging you, applauding – or not.

Laughing –or cringing. When you face a studio mike you never know what people think. When you face an audience – you do.

I began my career as a singer and worked the working men’s clubs “oop north” to get my Equity card. They take no prisoners up in Sunderland.

There I was, 19 years old in a long frockmy mumhad made me, singing Joni Mitchell songs with my acoustic guitar and being introduced as ‘a girl from down south but not to worry, she’s only doing 15 minutes to take us up to the bingo’.

At one club they announced the bingo tickets were on sale at the back of the club and the entire audience left their seats and formed a queue. Now that was nerve racking.

I “died” on many occasions. Well, actually, I “died” on most occasions.

At one club they threw their rolls at me. I declared. “Look they love me, they want to share their food with me” Mmm didn’t go down too well – a ‘southerner’ and cheeky.

The best part about working the clubs and summer seasons and pantos was getting to work with some really amazing stars. My favourite was Tommy Cooper – hilarious on-stage – and so lovely to me. Billy Connolly, such a generous man. He would sit in my dressing room and be really complimentary – which was certainly not the norm for most comedians – miserable blighters most of them.

Working with my childhood hero Norman Wisdom – “call me Norm”

– was unreal.

Bob Monkhouse said he wanted us on his TV show. Oh yes? I had heard that somany times from so many stars – never happened. But it did with him. A really genuine man.

I learnt so much from watching these wonderful artistes and have so many stories of them that I put them in a show.

Shane Richie recorded a bit for me – as himself, and Daybreak star Richard Arnold recreated a show we had done together on radio.

Hannah Waddingham, from Game of Thrones, playedmy agent for me and musician friends recorded backing tracks for me. So, my one-woman showwas born.

It’s now entitled Excuse me Nurse, You’re Standing on my Catheter”.

Ooh, now I’m even more nervous. The reason is not that I’m afraid I’ll forget it or dry up – more chance of the Thames drying up than me.

No, I‘m nervous because I haven’t sang – properly – since being diagnosed with breast cancer two years ago.

Has my voice survived? Can I hit the notes? Have I got the breath to perform live? I’ll soon know.

And, as nervous as I am, I am just so happy to be here and to be able to do the show at all.

I know I am lucky, so when the butterflies in my tummy are turning into vultures, I’ll think of how far I’ve come and enjoy every minute.

If you fancy coming along and seeing how I get on I’m appearing at the Frinton Greensward Marquee for the Frinton Mission on Wednesday, 7.30pm.

And please, remember to say ‘hello’ if youmake it!

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