Simply gutted.

I once had the misfortune of understudying Leslie Grantham in a West End production of 'Tootsie'. Old Les was a bag of nerves and paranoid as you like about going on stage. He insisted I was in full makeup before every show in case he choked. Thirteen weeks and the slimy git never missed a show. So there I sat, all alone, looking into the mirror pictured above. Two and a half hours every night with Mick Hucknall staring back at me. Soul destroying