Dream Diary of Llord Webber

23rd November 2025

Another involving the black horse. This one began at the old summer house I used to take Madeleine back when we were courting. Only the layout was all wrong and there was a powerful sense of being elevated somehow - precariously so. The kitchen lead out not onto the decking but rather a circular balcony. Like the top of a lighthouse. And indeed instead of the rolling hills of Surrey there was below an endless black sea stretching off to a hideously shifting horizon. Where the sky ended was being continuously churned by a powerful storm and I heard Madeleine call from behind me as though she were unaware of how wrong it was. Unaware of the deafening crash of waves and the peculiar sound of instruments tuning up which seemed to emanate from the sky itself... as though the towering bruised clouds held a secret orchestra.

I turned to answer her and there stood the horse. Taller than last time as though growing in power with each appearance. It spoke calmly in Maddy's voice. "Darling," it said "It's time to go back now. Everybody's waiting for you." In my hand appeared an old fashioned pear drop sweet. I felt that perhaps if I gave it to the horse it would let me stay. Let me find out what song the sky was about to play. But as I put my hand up to the horse's face it reared violently, taking out the extractor fan above the aga and I started awake.

Mojito had been sitting on my chest staring at the bedroom door when I came to.

19th November 2025

We were workshopping Cinderella in The Other Place. This was the future though. Carrie and Tyrone were still there but they were training younger versions of their characters - kids really. It all felt so pointless and no matter how often we went through the script and rehearsed the steps the younger players just weren't getting it. I could tell it was upsetting Carrie especially.

At some point I decided to walk out and leave them with Laurence, our director. As I walked away I had this overwhelming feeling that none of it mattered. That the show would be fine and we would all make our money and maybe win an award or two. It was somewhere between resignation, boredom and complete abiding acceptance. The feeling has followed me into the day and I ended up having a hard boiled egg for breakfast.

2nd November 2025

Carol and I went for a stroll down the frozen food aisle of the big Waitrose. We lingered amongst the peas and I felt my heart quicken even though I was aware I was dreaming. I won't say any more save that I had to change the bottom sheet this morning.

Maddy doesn't go in for the pea stuff. I told her about my dream this morning and she flicked me with a kitchen towel and called me a dirty old man. She doesn't mind really. She knows I'd never. Not with Carol.

6th October 2025

Deeply unpleasant dream. I would go as far as saying a nightmare really. I was one of those clown heads that people throw bean bags at in leisure arcades. A boy who looked like Aled Jones was doing the throwing. The game seemed to last a small eternity as though several 50 pence pieces had been slotted in one go.

I couldn't get a good look at my fellow clowns because my head was fixed forward but from the sounds as one was hit I believe at least one of them was Kenn Dodd. Towards the end of the dream it was clear the other clowns had all been downed as the focus shifted squarely to me. I haven't experienced such anxiety since the opening night of Love Never Dies.

17th August 2025

The black horse came for me again last night. I can't remember anything else about the dream except for the horse. It wants something I am sure of it but what I do not know.

12th May 2025

I was shoe shopping in Russell and Bromley only they were completely out of loafers and in their place were a new kind of novelty shoe that looked like fish. Silvery leather with a fin sticking up parallel from the tongue. Strangely pointed tips. Some of them almost marlin-esque.

The shop assistant - who looked a lot like either Ant or Dec - assured me they were all the rage but I was having none of it. I wanted my loafers! I left in a huff but as I walked out onto Regent Street squinting in the afternoon sun I was suddenly aware that I had no idea where else to buy shoes from in all of Soho. And more than that I was barefoot! I've rarely felt so hopelessly lost. In a dream or otherwise.

30th March 2025

Dreamed of peas again. And an old flame. I shall say no more.

29th March 2025

I was on a flying carpet ride over the Moroccan desert. It reminded me of mine and Sarah's honeymoon in the Sahara. There was more to the dream including some kind of run in with a stern Sheikh and his beautiful daughter. It was like a cheesy pantomime of yore. But the carpet ride stood out for all its realism. I could feel the warm desert winds and see the dunes ripple and shift in hushed tones of evening pink. The carpet itself was of the bowling alley / cinema foyer variety and was at odds with the old world aesthetic of everything else.

There was another carpet flying behind me at a distance and on it stood a large black horse. It was gaining on me, its imploring neigh muffled by wind rush. Eventually I landed near an oasis and when I looked back the horse was nowhere to be seen. But as I drank the cool crystal clear water I heard a whinnying cry and I believe it was that which awoke me.

20th March 2025

Fevered dreams again last night. I can't shake this damnned flu. Perhaps it's COVID 19 . It was hard to know where my waking fever ended and the dreams began. I seemingly spent the night engaged in a wrestling match with with my own legs. It felt as though if I were able to pin them down for just three seconds the referee would blow his whistle and declare me the victor and I'd drift off to unencumbered sleep upon the shoulders of a cheering crowd. Sadly, we went the distance and as such I am now deathly tired and with so much to do. Mojito is asleep by my side as I write this. Oh how I envy the canine immune system.

19th March 2025

I have a fever. All night I dreamed of untangling microphone cables. The big chunky ones we used to use at Abbey Road. As each cable became disentangled yet more would coil round one another like seething rubber snakes. The floor was alive with them.

From somewhere outside I could hear Donny Osmond whistling a familiar kids TV tune but in a minor key. I think it was Postman Pat. I could tell it was Donny because when he whistles the air tunelessly slips between his front teeth. It drove me crazy when we were working on Joseph but I'd completely forgotten about it until now. Barely slept a wink.

31st January 2025

I dreamed of the garden in Kensington again. Mummy and Julian were there and we were playing a crude sort of rounders game. Both Julian and I were too old to be in that garden let alone playing together. But there we were completely lost in the game regardless. Mummy was the right age meaning there was little in the way of an age gap between us. She was beautiful. When she laughed it was as if the sun shone warmer in return.

Julian won the game. He always did. Until he didn't, of course. There were more dreams after that. Muddled and bright. All of them Kensington dreams. I'm sure it never rained the whole time we lived there.

10th January 2025

I dreamed of Don's summer costume party in '92. Madeleine and I went as Victoria and Albert. She looked ravishing in her bustle, frills and modest pewter crown. We were truly born in the wrong era. In the dream it wasn't raining and the four of us (Maddy, Don, Shirley and I) went down to the lake.

We all pulled off our bulky costumes and dived in nude. I was last in and the other three were making good way to the centre of the lake, their giddy laughter echoing eerily across the still water. The storm which in reality infamously rained off the entire party was brewing over the hill tops; rumbling as if hungry.

I broke into a freestyle crawl to catch up and my three companions bobbed ahead, facing away from me as the distance closed. Another rumble of thunder - the kind you hear in films, in dreams - and I breathlessly caught hold of Maddy's slim, freckled shoulders. I spun her round and discovered not Madeleine looking back but Queen Victoria herself. I could smell her putrid breath as she laughed, cruel and crone-like, in my face. I looked down into the water and saw a reflection that wasn't mine and then I was awake, Madeleine softly snoring beside me. I physically got up to check her face had gone back to normal. An awful dream.

November 8th 2024

Dreamt we had 13 dogs. All of them black furred Havanese like Mojito except for one small chihuahua. The 12 black dogs formed a circle around the chihuahua and began barking in unison. Madeleine was fretting and clattering around the drawing room whilst this was happening. After about three minutes of synchronised barking the chihuahua began to levitate. Its innate confused expression took on an air of confident superiority. This small strange dog had been chosen and was rising to take his rightful place.

By this point the ceiling and the entire second floor of the house had vanished without a trace and the chihuahua was continuing to rise into bright blue sky. Other dogs in the neighbourhood joined in the clockwork-like barking. The chihuahua looked down at me and for a moment all the barking stopped and I was aware only of his eyes. My eyes. And just as when you hold your own gaze for too long in a mirror find yourself singed by a spark of madness so from the dogs eyes I saw a glimmer of something I dare not give credence.

The small strange dog broke our gaze and rose into the clouds and though my feet stayed on the ground I awoke with a palpable sense of weightlessness.

November 6th 2024

Became caught in a sort of dream loop where I had to buy meringue nests from M&S and the cashier was Graham Norton and before scanning them he held the nests to his nipples and pretended they were breasts whilst pouting. I'd leave the shop only to find myself entering through the other door with an empty basket. I lost count how many times this happened.

October 28th 2024

A warming dream last night. I found myself back in my old beloved taekwondo gym. I was marvellously strong and balanced, more in tune with my movement than I have ever experienced in waking life. An incredibly pleasant sensation that I have managed to carry into my day.

My typical drills and routines were at one point interrupted by a small boy who asked me for directions to the loo. I pointed him in the correct direction but felt a sense of concern as I could not see where his mother or father were.

Since waking it has struck me that the boy was actually me! I remember being lost in a department store around the age of 7 which must have been the age of the boy in my dream. It is nothing shy of fascinating how these old memories reveal themselves back to you without explanation. Madeline has said it is a very positive thing that I was able to help my younger self find his way, which I indeed feel resonates with the overall mood I garnered from the experience.