Judy's kindly and enthusiastic agreement that we could attend one of her recording sessions was still ringing in my ears when Joan (Coulson) and I arrived at the studios. There we were refused admittance and not even allowed to send in our names to Judy or Sid. I left a note for Judy at her hotel to ask whether it was still alright for us to go, and 'phoned the next evening to see whether there was a message for me. Judy came to the 'phone herself and said how very sorry she was over the previous evening. It was agreed we would go that night and Judy would see we got it.

We waited at the studio gate until Judy arrived, beaming and waving, and with Sid smiling beside her. She hurried out of the car and came towards us with her hand outstretched in welcome. As we entered the building, Judy told us, "I'm afraid you're going to find this very boring," (as if anyone could be bored with Judy around!) and later smiled round at us to make sure we were following.

Sid asked the recording manager to "find the girls some seats." These proved to be a long way away from Judy but, as soon as she saw this, she called to us to bring our chairs to where she would be. Judy looked cute in black slacks and a gay blue and white silk blouse she had brought back from her recent visit to Capri. Her hair was down in a lose casual style.

The songs she recorded that evening were, "I Happen to Like New York", "Why Was I Born?", "Swanee" and "You'll Never Walk Along." Before the session began, the recording manager strolled over to tell us Judy's voice was better than ever and she had made five wonderful recordings the night before.

The whole evening was a revelation. Not only did Judy have a complete and sure grasp of her part in each song, but she also had the responsibility of guiding and advising the chorus and orchestra. Always diffidently, sometimes humourously, but with un-erring discernment, she advised as to rhythm, tempo, pitch, and volume. Even when singing with intense concentration, she could pick out a fault in the orchestra or chorus. She sang over some of the lines for the chorus, sometimes conducting, leading, almost willing them to perfection. "Could you sing a little louder there?" she inquired at one point to the chorus of eight. She grinned. "You've got to sound like 24 people!" The leader suggested he stopped his note when Judy stopped. "I don't stop," smiled Judy, "I hold it through to the end." (Collapse of Chorus!)"

"....When the end of one song had not recorded well, it was suggested that the last part be done again. 'No. Let's do the whole thing again,' said perfectionist Judy.

Most of the delays before a recording was complete were caused by sound problems or because the chorus and orchestra had not rehearsed together before. That placed a heavy load of Judy, but she took it all very calmly and seemed in wonderful spirits all the time. As we were the only two visitors, it was clear that Judy (bless her heart) had achieved a miracle for us to be there.

When she was actually recording, her back was to us. Sometimes following score with her finger, sometimes hands on hips or at her sides, Judy's back was eloquent and the emotion of the song transmitted itself almost as much as when we face Judy in a theatre.

Between songs, Judy sipped a concoction of 'sugar, honey and water, which tastes awful, but is good for this,' explained Judy touching her throat.

At the end of each 'take,' Judy and the conductor (Norrie Paramor) repaired to the recording room to hear the playback. 'Would you like to hear it Lorna?' invited Judy. Would I!!

We were leaving this room after a most moving rendering of 'Why Was I Born' when Judy uttered a quietly contented, 'Yes. That was a good record.' That was also the understatement of the year! I told her it was a great record - in fact all her records were. 'No,' said Judy, 'but they've been better since I was sick and my voice rested.'

Judy had been singing for several years when Sid remarked, 'Your voice isn't a bit tired, dear.' 'No! My voice isn't a bit tired,' mimicked Judy comically in a strangled high pitched gasp!

When recording 'Swanee', Judy was at the end of that extremely difficult last note but one when she apparently decided it was not good enough, because she clapped both hands to her head and finished off with a great yell of comical frustration. Everyone, including Judy,. hooted with laughter and the next take was perfect.

At the end of the evening, we went back to the recording room for the final playback. Judy particularly wanted to hear the 'Swanee' tape where she had yelled. It sounded funnier than ever when played back and no one laughed more heartily than Judy. There was some amused conjecture as to what would happen if the tapes were mixed and the wrong recording went out. Personally, I think Judy's fans would love it!!

Having been there for 3.3/4 hours, it was time to tear yourselves away. As we thanked Judy and said goodbye, I commented that I had so much to tell Pat I would not know where to begin. 'Just tell her things are going along fine,' said Judy. "

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