Compelled to dot around everywhere

SOAP queens and their entourages, don't you just love them? Here we

are on a blistering hot day in boring Boreham Wood. We are on the

hangar-like set of EastEnders, with a cast of several. All The Herald

wanted was a one-to-one interview with June Brown, who is that soap's

soothsayer of the spindriers, camp old Dot Cotton.

But it is not to be. When we are not traipsing around the Elstree

studios with an Australian photographer, a budding playwright and

erstwhile groupie, who is carrying Brown's Burberry handbag for her, a

make-up artist (Brown's 32-year-old daughter, Sophie), and your reporter

puffing along behind with her own two bags of luggage, we are all

crammed into this Portakabin of a dressing room, with everyone talking

at once. And my tape recorder is in a twist.

Meanwhile, Brown keeps moaning in best Dot Cotton tradition: ''Hang

on, I've lost me thread!''

It would have been easier and quieter to have sat on King's Cross

station and conducted the interview, or at least a similar exercise in

displacement activity, in the company of hundreds of commuters. At least

I'd have been able to avail myself of one of British Rail's luggage

trolleys.

Dot is the one who is forever wandering around the launderette,

beating her boney bosom, and wailing, ''Woe! Woe! Thrice woe!'' I know

the feeling. Two hours on, I taxi away from the studios, arms aching,

ears ringing, and not having had a proper or, indeed, improper

conversation with anyone. Oh, woe is me!

I am here, it says in my notebook, to talk to Brown and her protege,

one Matthew Westwood, a 21-year-old from Chorleywood, about their

intended foray on to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, with a tragi-comedy

written by Westwood. Brown will direct, as well as act in the play. But

come with me to the Portakabin and eavesdrop on a morning in the life of

soap-star.

''Clear away all that fan-mail and sit on the bed,'' invites Brown,

fidgeting and fiddling with kettle and instant coffee, and lighting up

the first of many mentholated cigarettes. ''Sorry, but it's utter chaos

in here,'' she says, looking in despair at the wilting plants and piles

of photographs waiting to be signed for adoring fans.

''We really must get this lot out of the way, Matthew, before I

leave,'' she announces to her author. Dot Cotton exits from EastEnders

some time in the autumn, although Brown leaves the cast tomorrow, having

filmed her final episodes in which it is rumoured her soap ''son'',

nasty Nick, who once attempted to poison his screen parent for her bingo

winnings, is back with his ''secret son'', who turns out to be as big a

thug as his father.

Having been upset at the sacking of her great friend Peter Dean (Pete

Beale in EE), and having her requests refused for time off for other

projects, like directing plays, and with a strong desire to spend more

time with her children and grandchildren, 65-year-old Brown is now

quitting Albert Square after eight years of tittle-tattling and several

years spent explaining the thinking behind the ERM to John Major on

Spitting Image.

So how did they meet, the woman who created the only fictional

character ever to be immortalised on the satirical puppet show and the

tyro playwright?

''Well, dear, I went to see Matthew who had produced and directed --

he likes doing everything himself, you see -- this performance he had

put on himself in Camden Town. He does it all himself, you know. He

likes being a bit like . . . Oh, who is it, what's his name? Orson

Welles! Yes, he likes being a bit of an Orson Welles. He gets a bit

impatient if anyone else does anything.

''Do show her the production photograph, Matthew. That's the poster

for our show. We have all [the four actresses -- Westwood only writes

for women] been photographed. That picture was Matthew's idea -- four

bods on a sofa. He's very clever, really he is. You see why he's an

Orson Welles. That's a joke. No, it isn't. Yes, he is. He's an Orson

Welles.''

Halting this stream of consciousness for just a moment, Westwood

demurs modestly, but adds shyly: ''I know what you mean . . . ''

''Oh, it's such a lovely story; a lovely story,'' says Brown. ''Now,

what was I saying? Oh no, I've lost me thread again. I'm always doing

that, going off at a tangent. Just like Dot, I'm always talking in

cliches. I'm forever coming out with these Dot-isms. Gawd knows what

would have happened if I'd been doing nothing but Shakespeare for eight

years.''

Hold on a minute. What's a lovely story?

''He wrote me a letter when he was 13 and I thought it was so

intelligent, particularly for a teenage boy -- I have one son and four

daughters of my own -- that I was quite intrigued. So I rang him up

because I do so hate writing meself,'' she points to the aforementioned

unanswered fan mail.

''I've inherited that job,'' interjects Westwood, with a satisfied

smile.

''Anyway, Matthew came and met me and he brought some small scripts he

had written for EastEnders.''

At 13?

''Yes, dear, so young! Well, I introduced him to lots of people and he

would have been the youngest-ever TV soap writer if it had all worked

out because my friend, the actress Gretchen Franklin [Ethel in EE], who

is a very canny lady indeed read them. She's so, oh, Matthew, what's the

word . . . Oh, dear I am off again. Where was I? What was I saying?

'Yes,' Gretchen said, 'June, the boy has a real gift for dialogue'.''

Brown, who says that, after 46 years in the profession, she has little

confidence in her own judgment, then told Westwood she would direct one

of his plays. This she did, in Camden last year, when it received some

''rather good

notices''. They then planned to

expand it and take it to San Francisco, where there is a huge fan club

for EastEnders. Indeed, she goes over regularly to meet Dot Cotton's

camp followers in the States. ''They really like Dot. Many gays have a

good sense of humour and they like the wit I hopefully put into my

performances. Certainly, if I had played Dot as a straight character,

she would have been a very boring woman indeed.''

''Dot's so funny, isn't she,'' says Westwood to no one in particular.

''So funny and so sad.''

AT THIS point, enter Sophie to shower in her mother's bathroom and to

make-up Brown for the photographs. ''Just tap me up, dear,'' says Brown,

''I can talk while she's doing it, as long as she doesn't make me look

like a raddled old bag. I can talk through anything. I even talked while

I was having my tonsils removed in Ardentinny when I was in the ATS.''

While Sophie ''taps up'' her mother, Westwood ushers in John Altman

[Nick in EE] to say a quick hello, offering: ''Sometimes I have to pinch

myself. I can't believe all this is happening to me! I was addictive

(sic) to soaps. I wrote to them all, you know. All the women in

Coronation Street and Brookside, they are all so funny. A lot of women

bore me, but I love the strong women in soaps.

''For instance, I went to Spain for a week because June and I intended

to bring two plays to Edinburgh and I wanted to write a play with Polly

Perkins [Eldorado's Trish Valentine] based on the six weeks in her life

when her partner and girlfriend died of cancer.''

Brown interrupts: ''But it all became too complicated, and now I think

about it, it would have been a nightmare.''

Westwood, who has just left Bristol University, where he has been

studying film and drama, encouraged by Brown, adds: ''I used to be a

piano player and an athlete, but I have given it all up for this. I

mean, there I was at 16, standing at the EastEnders' gates, waiting for

Susan Tully's autograph [Michelle] and now I've actually made a film

with her. It's all thanks to June.''

So serendipity brought the pair together?

''Oooh, what a big word!'' Westwood squeals. ''What does that mean?

None of my characters would know that word, would they, June?'' Dragging

on her cigarette, Brown interrupts: ''It's a perfectly lovely word,

dear. Oh, what does it mean . . . '' At this point, I make an excuse and

leave, feeling slightly needled by the young Orson Welles, and with a

dozen loose threads hanging on my tangled tape.

* Small Fish, Big Pond Theatre Co.'s production of Double D is

at the Assembly Rooms, George Street, Edinburgh, August 13-September

4.