THERE cannot be many people who are unfamiliar with the story of Terry Waite's five-year incarceration in Beirut, but the chance to hear about the experience from the man himself proved a popular choice with Bewdley Festival-goers.

Waite did not disappoint, ensuring the rapt attention of his audience with eloquent descriptions of the loneliness and fear he endured.

Pianist Vincent Billington - a friend he made through his public speaking engagements - provided an accompaniment to Waite's words, treating us to some of the pieces he had missed most while in captivity.

This rather unusual feature sat well with the reflective tone of the evening, the musical interludes providing the audience with moments for contemplation.

Waite created a vivid portrayal of the inhumane conditions he faced: the tiny, windowless cell, the interrogation and torture and the moment when his captors cruelly tricked him into thinking he was about to be executed.

However, the traumatic tale was interspersed with flashes of humour, through anecdotes such as his first encounter with fellow hostage John McCarthy in the boot of a car, and the problems the kidnappers had trying to cram Waite's 6ft 7ins frame into various containers for transportation.

The evening ended on a light note with Vincent playing a medley of requests, including snippets from Last Night of the Proms (the first music Waite heard when he was finally given a radio six months prior to release) and Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head. SO