Thankfully, the actors did not mess up their words, and nor did Nell’s text mince them, as it told of different ways of dying, at home, or elsewhere. East, west, home was best.
After the actors and author took a bow, they returned for a good chat with a good proportion of the lunchtime audience. Wherever possible, it was agreed, our extraordinary lives merit a good death.
McGowan was on form in both settings, taking the first set in tennis and then the stage by storm. Well, he certainly made more than one good impression, especially of the Prince of Wales with a Welsh accent. On more than one occasion, he turned, unexpectedly, into Eddie Izzard or Andy Parsons, and was terrific at both.
He was not half bad at word play either, suggesting that (E)epsom might be something between epic and awesome; and there was hilarious punning unclarity between placenta and play centre.
Away from all this, a calmer mood prevailed in the Studio downstairs, where poet Fiona Samson read from her new collection Coleshill, exploring human experience and both the natural and the man-made world that surrounds her eponymous book.
And after that, it was goodbye to the Arts Centre as we took down flags and banners and prepared to decamp for our final day at Lower Shaw Farm, a Yoga Centre, the Central Library, and the Town Hall, for the Festival Finale!