On the dressing-table sits a pile of fruit spilling out of a Carmen Miranda-style headpiece. A pair of red PVC platform boots lies on the floor. And dangling from a rail is an enormous hooped skirt nestled among a shocking pink satin bodysuit, a Copacabana-sleeved gown and a Dalek-shaped dress with sieves sewn on to it. Welcome to the lair of ‘Trinny and Susannah’, the glamorous stars of Alhambra pantomime Cinderella. There’s half an hour to go before the curtain rises on a matinee performance, and backstage the Ugly Sisters are applying enough make-up to plaster a ceiling.

But there are no diva tantrums from ‘Trinny’ or ‘Susannah’, alias actors Jay Worthy and David Beckford. When I meet the pair, they’re happily chatting as they transform themselves into grotesque ‘laydees’.

Both are firmly agreed on one thing. “I hate tights!” cries Jay, sitting at his mirror.

“Oh, me too – they’re horrible,” says David – who’s wearing just a pair of tights. “And high heels play havoc with my posture. What women put themselves through for fashion!”

This is the fifth time Jay has played an Ugly Sister. He says it’s different from playing the comedy pantomime Dame.

“The Uglies are bad – that’s the difference,” he says. “We judge our performances by the boos. It’s more fun playing a baddie; when we get Cinderella to tear up her ticket, we’re clowning around for laughs one moment, then we turn nasty.

“For some Ugly Sisters it’s all about the costumes, for others it’s the character. It’s essential that you don’t mind being hated.”

There’s just over a week until the panto ends its run. Does it get a bit ‘Groundhog Day’ doing two shows a day for so long? “Not really,” says Jay, pencilling beautifully-arched eyebrows. “Each audience brings out something different in you. Panto is demanding. We’ve got quick changes; when I try on the glass slipper the Prince pulls a long stocking off my leg. I’ve got to load all that up in about a minute.

“We only had a week to rehearse; David and I had to build up a double act pretty quickly.”

David is painting on glittery eye-shadow It’s a far cry from his days as a primary school teacher.

“This is my first Ugly Sister role. Jay’s taught me a lot,” he says. “I’m usually Buttons. It’s more fun being booed!”

Having worked with children in the classroom, David is enjoying the challenge of performing on stage for them. “Children’s timing is different; they don’t always react to the same things and at the same time as adults. It keeps you on your toes,” he says.

“This is a comedy role with chilling touches and children become immersed in that. When you consider what they see on computer games, it’s great that panto still has that effect.

“I’m from a Shakespearean background – there’s an affinity between Shakespeare and panto; it’s story-acting, and to be done well it has to be fast. Anyone with a snobbery about that should get over themselves.”

It takes the boys 30 minutes or so to apply their make-up. “We keep touching it up because we get hot on stage and it starts to slide!” says David. “I wear a fat suit in one scene, and in another I wear two pairs of tights – it’s boiling.”

Soon the ‘Uglies’ are climbing into their Dalek dresses and going through vocal scales. Further along the corridor, I pass a row of Sunbeams dressed as mice, alias youngsters from the Sara Packham Theatre School.

In wardrobe, Jen Harris and Nicki Brown are preparing costumes. Clothes are spinning around a washing machine and steam rises from an iron. Hats, wigs and feather headdresses are dotted about, and among the costumes hanging on a rail is Billy Pearce’s Buttons jacket. There are about 100 costumes, made specially for the panto by the team behind Strictly Come Dancing’s outfits.

“Because they’re new, and tailor-made, there hasn’t been much wear and tear,” says wardrobe mistress Jen. “The main things to go are fastenings, as the costumes are ripped off for quick changes.”

Jen shows me a balldress from the Viennese-style ball where Cinderella charms the Prince. It’s a leotard covered in floaty material. “The dresses have to be flexible for dancers to move in. We keep an eye on Cinders’ gown, it’s covered in sequins and picks up fluff and cotton,” says Jen, holding up the splendid white dress. Further along the rail hang Cinders’ rags. Music is pumped into the auditorium as the seats fill up. I slip into the wings to watch the opening scenes and am surrounded by props; a cart piled high with plastic fruit and fold-up flowers, a life-size rabbit dummy slumped in a pram and two enormous candelabras. Fairy Godmother Penni Tovey glides past on roller-skates.

On stage, Billy is working his magic, with the audience in stitches. Then the Doctor Who music booms out and the Ugly Sisters make their entrance to a barrage of boos. I’m grinning like a proud mum.

The trickiest technical aspect of the show is the 3D sequence. Sound operator and 3D projectionist Chris Firth shows me two projectors used to beam the images which are a spectacular part of the show.

“It’s technically-sensitive, as both have to work together to create the effect,” he says, leading me behind the stage to a computer system linked up to the projectors.

On the sound system, principals’ names are taped under lights that turn red if their microphone is on. Through headphones connected to Billy’s microphone, I hear his voice on stage.

Behind us someone is practising a juggling routine and Prince Charming and Dandini – Wayne Perrey and Mathew Noble – are waiting for their cue, looking splendid in military costumes.

Trying not to let the audience spot me through the scenery, I edge past Cinderella’s sparkling horse-drawn carriage. When it’s time for the show’s three horses to appear, they’re each transported in a lift from their stabling area, accompanied by trainer Tommy Roberts.

In the wings, Billy is sharing a joke with Hayley Tamaddon, wearing Cinderella’s rags I’d seen hanging up earlier. Suddenly Billy’s shouting “Hiya kids!” and bounding back on-stage.

As he goofs around in front of the curtain, the crew lay a waterproof floor covering for the hilarious ‘slosh’ scene involving Billy and professional clown Jan-Erik chucking foam at each other.

Afterwards, Billy runs through the wings, covered in gunge, to his dressing-room. “Mind your feet,” says an assistant stage manager, mopping up the trail of foam left behind.

The glamour of showbiz!

Backstage tours are held at the Alhambra and St George’s Hall. For details, or tickets for Cinderella which runs until February 1, ring (01274) 432000.