Phantom faces at the window, phantom shadows on the floor...and on sides of buses, in newspapers, on social media, everywhere I look.
It's an extraordinary feeling. I'm haunted by a job I did a lifetime ago; a job that for years I forgot about; the poster which featured the younger version of my character that became, as I walked by it in the street, just another advertisement.
I'd already played Laurey in Oklahoma! and Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady for a young producer named Cameron Mackintosh, but I'd been told I must take opera seriously so now I was knuckling down to my chorus/understudy year at Glyndebourne Opera.
I found myself during a chorus improvisation on all fours pretending to be a dog for the man who was directing Mozart's opera Idomeneo. I thought it was just another day at the office, not a day that would change my life forever.
Something about my moving portrayal of Tintin's dog Snowy must have struck a chord because that afternoon during a stage rehearsal when the chorus was broken for lunch an arm snaked round my shoulder.
I had been Trevved.
Then it faded into the backgrounds as we got on with our lives, the only reminder, apart from posters on the tube, was my friendship with my fellow ingenue, Frances Ruffelle, as we lived through the arrival of children, of divorce, death, of all that life threw at us.
Meanwhile, back at the theatre, other Cosettes and Eponines bonded for life, repeating our patterns yet again.
The excitement and the love for LES MISERABLES is extraordinary to watch. The sense of ownership and passion for the show is astounding.
To make something that means so much to so many is a gift that few are given and I, for one, am very grateful and humbled by it all.