No guarantee
MY MAN in the crush bar says that Covent Garden's troubles started when Lord Drogheda, its panjandrum, promised Harold Macmillan that everything would be all right. Whitehall had its man on the board and the business could safely be treated as a branch of the Treasury. This made Covent Garden believe that its bills were backed by the Treasury's guarantee, but when the board looked for this guaran- tee, no one could find it. By now Margaret Thatcher was thumping on the door and telling Covent Garden to practise the virtues of self-sufficiency. The board swung into action. It bumped up its prices and sold expensive tickets to people who could not afford to be seen in cheap seats. Its supporters' club was called the Chairman's Circle. The members could be spotted by the toothmarks on their earlobes. Vivien Duffield's sharp incisors had fastened upon them and would only let go on receipt of an enormous cheque. This was good work but it has not played well with the new patrons of the People's Arts, and does not guaran- tee good management. For that, Covent Garden could take lessons at Sadler's Wells, or even in Wapping.
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