In my life, Saturday afternoons are generally reserved for football. I will most likely be found on a terrace at Twerton Park or deepest, darkest Essex. If I am not watching a live game of football – swearing as Bath City lose – I’ll probably be at home, on the sofa, watching the updates come through on the television, while swearing as Leeds United lose.

This Saturday was different. I gave up the rough and tumble of the national game, for something a little more refined – a trip to the theatre.

We had decided to go to the Theatre Royal, to watch a production of a murder mystery called Rehersal For Murder.

While I am sure I went to the theatre in Bath as a child, I can’t remember any trips from my youth. I did, however, go last year to see the musical, Joseph. Surprisingly, I really enjoyed it, and even bought the CD at the end of the show.

I was expecting Rehearsal For Murder to be somewhat different. It was. Obviously.

Despite the lack of singing, camels and multicoloured dreamcoats, I thought the production was pretty good. It was your typical murder mystery story. Woman dies under suspicious circumstances, a big who-did-it unravels, before the killer is exposed, with the mandatory plot twist. I actually guessed the killer in the show’s interval, although didn’t predict the twist.

The show promised “an all star cast”, and there were some faces I recognised. Although, it wasn’t until we had left the theatre and arrived back home, that I realised one of the lead roles was played by the man who was Max in Brookside. Granted, it wasn’t Dean Sullivan – AKA Jimmy Corkhill – although he’s no doubt on Broadway.

Oh, Brookside. The only soap I ever truly enjoyed. Why did you have to get cancelled? Oh yea, the original producer left and the thing became shit.