Maida Vale has been my home for the past few weeks--I had a beautiful flat, stoically decorated en grisaille, beautiful clothes, a husband I was desperately trying to make happy, a former lover who was making his presence known, and a phone that seemed sometimes to have a life of its own. I have had to leave, first, Maida Vale, and second, Lancaster. Back in Brooklyn, the life of Dial M still circles around my mind, still demands my attention; my lower eyelashes still bear traces of the bountiful eyeliner Margot wore--I like that it clings a little, spiritually and physically. There is a separation of actor from part, actor from other actor, and I think I like the quiet outward expression of that loosening grip--at least, see a beauty in it amidst the sadness. I thought, maybe, that as I slip away from 61a Charrington Gardens in the London suburb, Maida Vale--a fictional street in an actual English town--that I might explore that geography as it exists in a non-dramatic realm. An aid, perhaps, in the dedomiciling that is under way.

I came to rehearsal with two photos from the actual Maida Vale--one of the tile work at its tube stop, and one of a slightly open window from the back of a town house much like the Wendices'. While there is no street in Maida Vale named Charrington Gardens, there is a Warrington Crescent, and this town house, window standing open for any intruder, faces that street. Mark Shanahan (Tony Wendice) provided me with Gary Giblin's Alfred Hitchcock's London, which tracks the locations used in Mr. Hitchcock's films to their origins, and also supports my assumption that Mr. Knott may have substituted the fictional Charrington Gardens for Warrington Crescent. Surprisingly, there neither was nor is a Maida Vale police station--a locale of great importance in Dial M. According to Gilblin, there was "a police station in nearby West Hampstead and according to Metropolitan Police historian Bernard Brown, its phone number was Maida Vale 1113." And that's how you dial M . . .

As I unpack my bags and reacclimate myself to my Brooklyn life, I am so grateful for Margot--and Tony, Max, the Inspector and his policeman, and ok, Lesgate too. I am grateful to the Fulton Theatre and all its remarkable staff for welcoming me back, and to the Lancastrians I have met and befriended who made my time in your city that much fuller and more special. It is a lovely and rare thing--and I thank you for sharing it with me. My best wishes to the cast of Annie!