THE stage was set. Old Mother Riley, one of Britain's best-known variety stars, was about to about to make her entrance.
But that May day in 1954, at Hull's Tivoli Theatre, was to prove memorable for the wrong reasons.
Riley, the grey-haired alter-ego of actor Arthur Lucan, collapsed and died in the wings.
It was the conclusion of a life that had been marked by huge professional success – a series of popular films, sell-out theatre tours – and personal pain.
Estranged from his forceful wife, Kitty McShane, Lucan was facing the bankruptcy court, thanks to her lavish spending.
"I realised that, as in all great showbusiness partnerships, there was a great deal of pain behind the laughter," said Robert Kenny, the author of a new book about the late actor.
The Man Who Was Old Mother Riley explores the life of Mr Lucan, who had a huge following in northern cities such as Hull.
A regular performer at the Tivoli, on the corner of Paragon Street, Hull city centre, and at the Palace Theatre, which was located in Anlaby Road, west Hull, Lucan's appeal spanned the generations. The Hull Daily Mail described his fans as being aged from "eight to 88".
For Mr Kenny, a retired lecturer at the University of Leicester, it was a fascination that began in childhood with a screening of Mother Riley Meets The Vampire.
"I remember my Irish granny roaring with laughter in the darkness," he said.
"I thought if they could make my old granny laugh, there must be something about them.
"When I got hold of them again years later, I fell about laughing myself."
Mr Lucan was born in Sibsey, Lincolnshire as Arthur Towle, adopting the surname Lucan while working in Ireland as an entertainer.
In Dublin, he met his future wife Kitty, who later became his on-stage partner in the role of Old Mother Riley's daughter.
Alongside examining his career, the book debunks the myths propagated about Mr Lucan by Ms McShane after their relationship soured, including claims of alcoholism.
"I felt an enormous injustice had been done to this brilliant man," said Mr Kenny.
Although acclaimed for his work on stage and in film, the strain of this personal strife would eventually take its toll on Mr Lucan.
When he arrived in Hull on Sunday, May 16, Mr Lucan had a week before he was due to attend the bankruptcy courts.
Despite this, his final interview, given that day to the Hull Daily Mail, saw Mr Lucan impress the reporter with his "devotion to showbusiness".
"This was not merely a job to him but a part of his life which he loved fervently," the reporter noted.
"He was a grand old trouper who never failed to the maxim that 'the show must go on'."
The show was due to open at the Tivoli the next day.
It was here that Mr Lucan suddenly collapsed as he was about to walk onto the stage for the first house.
Mr Kenny illustrates the decision – in the showbusiness tradition – to continue the show, with a quote from Hull Daily Mail: "The pretty chorus line crowded down the stairs, some of them choking back sobs, and danced gaily on to the stage."
When news of Mr Lucan's death reached her, Ms McShane travelled up from London to the theatre, arranging for him to be buried in Hull.
The funeral took place on Friday, May 21, with a requiem mass at St Patrick's Church in Spring Street, where hundreds of mourners, including Donald Towle, the couple's son, were present.
The cortege then passed streets lined with fans to Hull's Eastern Cemetery.
Here, more than 150 mourners watched Mr Lucan's coffin lowered into the ground.
Ms McShane, Mr Kenny notes, threw Lucan's stage costume on to the coffin – an old theatrical tradition – and then hissed a curse, before dropping a single red rose into the grave.
Sixty years on, Mr Kenny arranged an Arthur Lucan event in Hull, which included a talk and a visit to the Eastern Cemetery in Preston Road, east Hull.
Held on May 17 this year, the anniversary of Mr Lucan's death, the day saw members of his family – including granddaughters Marylyn, Kate and Alison – visiting his grave.
It was, Mr Kenny said, "very moving".
"I think his ghost was smiling down on us," he said.
For Mr Kenny, there is a continued fascination with a man who became "trapped" by his best-known role.
"Once the first Old Mother Riley film came out, that became his job," he said.
"You don't look a gift horse in the mouth.
"But even when he did become trapped in that role, he had a range of moods and tones in his acting, which makes me very sad that he did not blossom into a major character actor.
"I do love Old Mother Riley, but there's a bittersweet poignancy that this brilliant actor was stuck in the role of a panto dame."
Given that, and the upheavals of his personal life, it is a story Mr Kenny says is worthy of a "major blockbuster film" – one which reached its sad end on the stage of a Hull theatre.
The Man Who Was Old Mother Riley by Robert Kenny, is published by BearManor Media. It is available from Amazon or by e-mailing the author at rvk2@leicester.ac.uk
