It was a Friday night and the streets were alive with the sounds of students celebrating the start of the weekend. However, instead of joining my friends for a typical night out, I was slipping into a black cocktail dress and sparkly heels. I headed out to the King’s Theatre alone, enjoying the music blaring from my AirPods and the feeling of the cool November wind caressing my face.
I received my ticket from the box office and found my seat. I was sitting next to a retired university professor and his wife. The professor, called Charlie (name changed for this publication), talked my ear off before the show, opening with an odd compliment about my red coat with faux jewels on the sleeves, “normally, I would detest that red coat but it looks beautiful on you.” His charming and, at times, hilarious conversation made my night. He had strong opinions about Scotland’s theatre scene, and we both bonded over our mutual love for the city of Edinburgh.
My decision to come to the show was entirely spontaneous, so I barely knew what I had paid to see. The multi-award-winning play, called The Signalman, turned out to be a one-man act about the Tay Bridge Disaster. Tom McGovern — playing Thomas Barclay, the signalman on the night of the catastrophe — sat on stage and recounted the events of the calamitous night. The script included snippets of real life testimony, and McGovern’s superb, anguished acting made my heart ache. I was enraptured by the entire production and thought the show was quite well done; it even inspired me to look up the historical accuracies later on, as well as read some poetry inspired by the tragedy.
The audience applauded, the curtains closed, and the lights lit up the theatre. I turned to Charlie, expecting us to express our equal admiration for the performance, only to find him looking deeply unsatisfied. ‘That was atrocious,’ he complained. ‘I felt particularly bad for you, however were you supposed to understand such a strong Scottish accent?’
The professor and his wife invited me to go for drinks afterward, but I politely declined. Instead, I headed out into the city alone to meditate on the intense performance I had just seen. I enjoyed walking through the meadows and the city streets (despite the pain caused by my sparkly heels) and eventually stopped at Biddy Mulligan’s for a pint. I happily listened to the live music and chatted to some tourists at the bar, and then I headed out to grab some fish and chips for a very late dinner. I climbed into bed that night, iridescently happy.
My trip alone to see Signalman felt like a magnificent adventure. I would recommend any theatre-lover to spontaneously book a show, dress up nice, and enjoy the magic of a night spent in solitude.
Image ‘King’s Theatre 2021’ by Emily Moffett