Julie Legrand: Night after night she's wicked And what happens in the wings is as finely tuned as what happens on stage. The theatre was originally a cinema, so the space at the sides is cramped and there's always something intricate going on inches away from you. And I have five costume changes to negotiate, too. Standards are kept very high: if you slack off, somebody will notice - an assistant to the director watches every show. What also keeps the dynamic fresh is that the atmosphere for each show is slightly different, according to the audience response and a revolving door of cast changes. Understudies go on a lot, too, because bugs circulate like wildfire. I can keep going longer than the others because I don't sing much. But I've twice had to take a week off, even though cancelling is anathema to me. Julie's iron routine is to arrive at the theatre 90 minutes before curtain up and apply her own make-up. An hour before the show, there's a cast warm-up on stage and parish notices are read out. This is a precious time, where we find out what and who is going on and we can chat and bond. We all have our own private superstitious rituals, but there's a universal rule that everyone in the cast gets a birthday cake, and on Sundays there can be quiz nights and bowling as well. I know it's a cliché, but it's family. The website has become an increasingly important part of the show. There's a video blog we all contribute to, and lots of interaction with the audience, including a day when fans can tour backstage and a Young Writers" Award. We're well looked after, and there's a strong sense of being part of an enterprise wider than the show. Julie's two years in Wicked isn't exceptional - others have clocked up five years, albeit in different roles. She wonders whether she will feel bereft when it's all over - though she's hopeful of a part in what could be the next long-running musical smash, Bridget Jones's Diary.