A Letter From The Front. Dame Hilda: When I was at school, and it wasn't all that long ago, well, I was certainly there much more recently than Evadne. In my day we had exercise books. In hers it was stone tablets. Anyhow, when I was at school, I was once asked to write a verse on the subject of bliss. This is what I wrote. Bliss is being pretty Bliss is being free Bliss is being clever Bliss is being me I got five out of ten, and I had to stay in after class and write, I must not be conceited one hundred times. More recently, I've come to the conclusion that bliss is when Evadne's mother finally goes after staying with us. And Evadne's come to the conclusion that her idea of bliss is when her mother goes and Maud doesn't come back. Mind, Maud's little holiday was very soon to impinge on us. One morning I received a letter. {Drawing room.} Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, this is from Maud. Dr. Hinge: I guessed that much, dear. She's the only person I know who re-uses old envelopes. I mean, that's the one we sent her card in at Christmas. Dame Hilda: Is it really, dear? That doesn't look like my writing, she's crossed out. Dr. Hinge: It isn’t. It's mine. I addressed all the Christmas cards last year. Remember? You were far too busy polishing your tiara for the midnight service. Dame Hilda: And wasn't it worth it, dear? Even the vicar said how brilliantly it caught the candlelight while I was singing my solo in the song of the Nuns of Chester. Dr. Hinge: Had to hold your head at a darn funny angle, didn't you, though? Anyway, does Maud have anything of interest to say in that letter of hers? Dame Hilda: Oh, I do hope so, dear. You know, there must be 30 pages of it. Dr. Hinge: Yes. And I noticed that she's a tied the envelope round with string. Well, it's more rope, really, isn't it? I would imagine she got it off a lobster pot. Dame Hilda: Well, you know, she simply hates that sticky tape, Evadne, always has, always gets it stuck to her mouth. Dr. Hinge: Hmm. Doesn't she realise you don't have to lick it? Dame Hilda: Oh, no no! She doesn't lick it, Evadne. She breaks it with her teeth. Dr. Hinge: Ah. She does the same thing with the rope by the looks of this one. Dame Hilda: Mind, she doesn't seem to be having very good weather. Dr. Hinge: Well, that's not very interesting. Dame Hilda: She seems to be spending most of her time sitting in a shelter on the front, watching Arthur splashing about in the water. Dr. Hinge: Is it that wet? Dame Hilda: In the sea, dear. There's quite a lot here about Arthur and his bathing, Evadne. Just listen to this. He went in again this morning and it were some little... Dr. Hinge: Was! And it was some little… Dame Hilda: Some little what? Dr. Hinge: I don't know. You're reading the letter. Well, go on. Dame Hilda: And it were some little time. Dr. Hinge: It was some little time. Dame Hilda: That's not what it says here. I am reading what she's written. Dr. Hinge: Well, it's wrong. Dame Hilda: Then tell her when she gets back. I'll read it as it's written and you'll just have to lump it. I'll start again. Dr. Hinge: Do you have to. I know that bit by heart. Dame Hilda: Then stick your fingers in your ears. Now... ‘e went in again this morning and it were some little time afor I seed as the red flag were flying. Dr. Hinge: We can do without the rustic accent. Dame Hilda: I'm sorry, dear. I didn’t know I was doing it. Oh, I say, Evadne. This bit at the bottom of the page sounds ominous. Maud writes, by the by. I forgot to tell you before I went and just hope it ain't too late to warn you now…. that Arthurs dripping all over the carpet and her in the bangle's not best pleased. Dr. Hinge: Well, you've got the wrong page. Dame Hilda: Well, I know that, dear. And I'm trying to find the right one. Dr. Hinge: And aren't they numbered? Dame Hilda: Oh, don’t be ridiculous. They're not even all written the same way up. Have a look in the envelope, Evadne. It may have got left in there. Dr. Hinge: Very well. Dame Hilda: There’s certainly nothing here that makes sense. Dr. Hinge: I could have told you that at the start. Dame Hilda: Is there anything in the envelope? Dr. Hinge: Just half a dozen co-op stamps. And oh, a dead shrimp. Dame Hilda: Oh, yes, that will be the one Arthur caught. She mentions that. Dr. Hinge: What does she expect us to do.? Have it for tea? Dame Hilda: Oh, no, no, she just wanted us to see it. Well, that's it Evadne, there is definitely a page missing. Dr. Hinge: And it would appear to be the only one with anything of the remotest interest on it. Dame Hilda: Let's see, you know, what does it say again? I forgot to tell you before I went and just hope it ain't too late to warn you now of that. Well, it can't be anything too serious, Evadne. She's been gone five days and nothing has happened. Dr. Hinge: Yet! Dame Hilda: What do you mean? Dr. Hinge: Do you remember the time that she forgot to tell us she'd heard water dripping in the box room? It was a whole week before we found out when the ceiling came down in the dining room. Dame Hilda: Oh, good heavens, yes. Dr. Hinge: And what about the time she forgot to tell us she'd seen a wisp of smoke coming from the summer house. Dame Hilda: Yes, I still regret losing that summer house. I used to love sitting in there. Dr. Hinge: There you are, you see. I mean, that cushion had been smouldering for days. And then suddenly, woof. Dame Hilda: And you think this may be something like that. Dr. Hinge: Quite possibly. Dame Hilda: You mean like the house is subsiding or something? Dr. Hinge: It could be. Dame Hilda: Pop outside and have a look, dear, would you? Just see if it's leaning. Dr. Hinge: Well, why don't we just telephone Maud, dear, and ask her what's going on. Ask her what it was that she meant to tell us. Dame Hilda: Oh, good idea. Dr. Hinge: I mean, you’ve got a number for her cousin's boarding house somewhere, haven't you? Dame Hilda: Yes, I wrote it on the pad by the phone dear. And I wrote the code for Skegness just above it. Dr. Hinge: I've got it. Dame Hilda: Would you like me to speak to her? Dr. Hinge: No, I shall do it. You'll only go off on a tangent, dear. And we may not have that much time left. Dame Hilda: Oh, don't, Evadne. Mind, if she's still in her shelter on the front, you won't be able to speak to her anyway. Dr. Hinge: If she's spending as much time in there as she seems to think, she's probably had a phone installed there by now. Oh, it's ringing. Oh, shhh! someone's answering. Hello, And may I speak to Mrs. Maud Print, please….. Well, I fail to see what that's got to do with it, but she's from Stackton Tressel….. No, I know that's not a colliery….. No, dear, Mrs. Print is not a mine worker. god forbid…. No, nor is her husband….. Well, what number are you?…. Oh, are you? Well, then I'm sorry. Goodbye. Hilda, that number you gave me is for the mine worker's union holiday home in Skegness. Dame Hilda: What an earth would Maud be doing there. Dr. Hinge: She isn't there. Dame Hilda: Well, there you are then. She's at her cousin's boarding house. Dr. Hinge: And you've got the wrong telephone number. Dame Hilda: It's the number she gave me. Well, we'll have to try directory enquiries. Dr. Hinge: What's the address of the boarding house? Dame Hilda: I don't know, but I think it's called Seaview. Dr. Hinge: That's a big help, could be anywhere. Dame Hilda: Well, of course it couldn't, it must be facing the sea. Dr. Hinge: Well, what's her cousin's name? Dame Hilda: Rhoda. Dr. Hinge: Her surname, Hilda? Dame Hilda: I don't know. No idea. It's just Rhoda and Ronnie, always has been. Dr. Hinge: You don't seem to know very much, do you? I mean, you are sure they're in Skegness. Dame Hilda: Well, I always thought it was Skegness. I'm sure it begins with an S. Dr. Hinge: So does Sidi Barrani. Now, where's the envelope that Maud's letter was in? Dame Hilda: It's here, dear, why? Dr. Hinge: Now, what's the postmark say? Dame Hilda: Give blood. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, where was it posted? Dame Hilda: Oh, let me see now. It's terribly faint. But whatever it is it begins with an S. Dr. Hinge: Oh, you're hopeless. Dame Hilda: What are we going to do, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: I don't... relax, I fancy help is on the way, Hilda, look who's coming up the drive. It's Mousey Butler. Dame Hilda: And you think he might know where Maud is. Dr. Hinge: Well, I think he'll be able to cast a professional eye over the entire house and make sure we're not in any danger. Dame Hilda: I wonder what he's got wrapped in that newspaper, dear. It's long and thin, so I bet it's for you, dear. Dr. Hinge: Oh, it'll be... It'll be something he's grown, no doubt. Mr. Butler knows how much I admire his green fingers. Dame Hilda: Well, perhaps he's cut one off and brought it up for you. You know, I wouldn't encourage him too much if I were you, Evadne. I'd hate him to carry you off to that terrible little mouse filled cottage of his opposite the tip. You'd spend the rest of your life cutting stale cheese into tiny squares and poking it through the bars into little whiskered mouths, and the only exercise you'd get would be half an hour a day on the treadmill. Dr. Hinge: Oh, Hilda do shut up, I'll open the window and let him in this way to save time. Mr. Butler! We’re in here dear. Mousey: Ah, Dr. Hinge, good morning to you. Dame Hilda: Come along, dear, clamber in do. Mousey: Thank you, Dame Hilda, and a good morning. You know, I'd really must congratulate you upon the beautiful display of matthiola incana you have growing in your drive. Dame Hilda: I thought you'd weeded down there, Evadne. Mousey: No, no, no, the stocks Dame Hilda, that wonderful profusion of glorious summer stocks. Dame Hilda: Ah, yes, Mr. Butler. I planted those myself. They were given to me by a very dear friend. Stocks you know in the language of flowers mean lasting beauty, wasn't that a nice tribute? And white pinks are for talent, they're in the bed opposite. Dr. Hinge: Next to the morning glories, for affectation. I planted those. Dame Hilda: You should have planted meadow saffron, dear, for my best days are past. Mousey: Ah, the language of flowers, my garden is full of such sweet thoughts. Ivy for friendship, sorrel for affection, snowdrops for hope, celandine for joys to come, blue hyacinths for constancy, sunflowers for adoration. Oh, before I forget, I brought this for you, Doctor. It's rhubarb. Dame Hilda: Yes, and we all know what that's for. Mousey: Advice, Dame Hilda. Dame Hilda: What, dear? Mousey: Rhubarb is for advice, and some people complain that I give it a little too freely. Dr. Hinge: It's something we're in urgent need of at the moment. Mousey: Rhubarb is? Dr. Hinge: No, advice is. You see, Maud went well holiday, and apparently left undone something that should have been done. Dame Hilda: Or did something that shouldn't have been, we're not sure which, or it may be just a leak? Mousey: Of what, Dame Hilda? Dame Hilda: Who knows, Mr. Butler? Mousey: Then where? Dame Hilda: Where, indeed? Mousey: Ah, complete mystery, eh? Well, there is a proverb, he that seeks trouble never misses. I'll find it, I'll go through the house from top to bottom. Dr. Hinge: Exactly what the water did on a previous occasion, Mr. Butler. Mousey: Then I shall emulate your water Doctor and run. Leave it to me, I'll not be long. Dr. Hinge: Well, that's a relief, isn't it? I must say, one feels in safe hands with Mousey Butler. Dame Hilda: Oh, would you like me to get you a vase, dear? Dr. Hinge: What for? Dame Hilda: To put your rhubarb in. You can arrange it while we're waiting. Dr. Hinge: This is champagne rhubarb, Hilda. I think I'll make a pie with it. Dame Hilda: Good idea, you can eat it out of your slipper. Oh, but isn't it all so unsettling? I should be very glad when Maud’s back and things return to normal. Dr. Hinge: Funny, I've never seen anything normal about having Maud around. Dame Hilda: I tell you what, Evadne. Why don't we sing a song while we're waiting for Mr. Butler to discover our domestic disaster? Dr. Hinge: Talking of disaster, dear. Would you like something to remind you of, Maud? Dame Hilda: Well, why not? Dr. Hinge: Well, how about the donkey duet? Dame Hilda: Oh, Veronique. Yes, she always loved that show. Dr. Hinge: And wasn't she good as the back legs of the donkey? Dame Hilda: Well, be fair, Evadne, she only played it once. And she was a darn sight less trouble than the real donkey, which you replaced her with. Now play.
Trot here and there, take care, take care Never tripping, never slipping Dear little donkey, trotting here and there Take care, take care, a bunch of carrots soon shall be your fare Trot here and there, take care, take care Never tripping, never slipping Dear little donkey, trotting here and there Take care, take care, a bunch of carrots soon shall be your fare I feel so happy all the while That I could laugh without knowing why Somehow when I see her smile Very sad and mournful am I And the donkeys such a dear But capricious I’m afraid. It’s less capricious though I fear Than one coquettish little maid Trot here and there, take care, take care Never tripping, never slipping Dear little donkey, trotting here and there Take care, take care, a bunch of carrots soon shall be your fare Trot here and there, take care, take care Never tripping, never slipping Dear little donkey, trotting here and there Take care, take care, a bunch of carrots soon shall be your fare
Dame Hilda: Well, I don't know about the donkey, but that's quite exhausted me. Dr. Hinge: Have a carrot, dear. {Tapping.} Dame Hilda: I say, Evadne, I can hear tapping. You don't suppose it's Deathwatch beetle in the piano, do you? Dr. Hinge: I think it's far more likely to be that woman standing outside the window, dear. Dame Hilda: Oh, I say. you know who that is, don't you? That's Maud's sister, Gudrun. Dr. Hinge: Ah, now she's bound to know where Maud is. Dame Hilda: I’ll let her in. Hello, Gudrun, my dear. Come along in. Just clamber over the sill, dear. Gudrun: Oh, thanks, Dame ‘ilda. It’s ever so nice to see you again. And you looking younger than ever, I don't know ‘ow you do it, I really don’t. Dame Hilda: Oh, well, it's just the occasional egg and sherry flip, dear. I take it for my voice, but it seems to do all of me no end of good. Oh, now come on here and sit down. Then what brings you here after all this time? Gudrun: I'm looking for our Maud. Dr. Hinge: Aren't we all? Gudrun: Oooh, hello, Doctor. I didn't see you lurking back there. Dr. Hinge: I am not lurking, dear. I am seated at the piano. Gudrun: Still managing to play, then, are you? Dr. Hinge: Yes. Believe it or not, I do contrive to claw out the occasional tune. Gudrun: That's the spirit. If God's given us a gift, the least we can do is to make the most of it while we're still able. That's what I always say. Dame Hilda: And what can we do for you, then, Gudrun? Gudrun: Well, Dame ‘ilda, see, I come up from Bodmin to stay a while with our Maud. A little holiday like, and she said as if I arrived and she weren't there, I was to come up ‘ere and get the key. And I arrived and she weren't, so I come. Dame Hilda: Well, I'm afraid you've had a wasted journey, dear. Maud didn't leave a key with us. Gudrun: Tis ‘anging with the tea strainer on a nail inside the pantry between the boot ‘ook and the bottle opener, just below the sieve. Dr. Hinge: So that's what that key is for. You know, I tried every door in the house with that key the other morning. Didn't fit any of them, I meant to mention it, I got quite worried. Dame Hilda: Why, dear? Did you think I'd had a door put in that you didn't know about? Dr. Hinge: I don't like spare keys hanging around. It's an open invitation to burglars. Dame Hilda: Well, if a burglar was already in our pantry, finding a spare key would be neither here nor there. Gudrun: Wouldn't be much ‘elp to ‘im anyhow unless ‘e was planning to go to our Maud’s. Dr. Hinge: I'll go and get the key. Gudrun: Oh, thank your Doctor, thank you ever so much. Dame Hilda: And, Evadne. Dr. Hinge: What, dear? Dame Hilda: Take your rhubarb with you. Well, Gudrun, I expect Maud’s looking forward to seeing you again, isn't she? You'll be able to have the whole place, spick and span for her when she gets back, Gudrun: Out shopping is she? Dame Hilda: Oh, no. She's gone to that cousin of yours, in Skegness. Gudrun: Skegness? We ain't got no cousin in Skegness. We got a cousin in Sheerness. Dame Hilda: Rhoda and Ronnie? Gudrun: No, They’re in Frinton. Dame Hilda: Well, the ones with the boarding house. Gudrun: Rosie and Robert. Sheerness. Dame Hilda: Sea view? Gudrun: Beach view. Dame Hilda: That'll be it. Well, that's where Maud is, I think. Gudrun: ‘ow do you like that? She asks me to come and stay, and then she ups and goes away. Dame Hilda: You do have a natural flair for rhyming, don’t you, dear? Gudrun: What am I going to do now? I told ‘em back ‘ome I'd be gone a fortnight, they’ll ‘ave let my room by now. Dame Hilda: So you're still living with that aunt of yours, are you? The one with the transport cafe? Gudrun: Aye, there'll be a lorry driver in my bed tonight. Dame Hilda: What a time to be away. If we give you the key to Maud's place, you can let yourself in and stay there anyway, can’t you? Maud won’t mind, and she'll be back at the weekend. Gudrun: Oh, I don't want to stay there all night, not on my own, Dame ‘ilda. Not in that old station ‘ouse. I'd just lie awake all night and frighten meself to death. I'm used to sleeping in a ‘ouse full of men, I am. Dame Hilda: Lucky old you? I tell you what, dear, why don't you stay here with us? Oh, we may not be an adequate substitute for a house full of men. But I do have a police whistle and a hat pin by my bed. And Evadne always sleeps with a poker under her pillow. Dame Hilda: Oh, here's Evadne back. And Mr. Butler. You remember Mr. Butler, don't you? Gudrun: I remember Mr. Butler all right. We used to go scrumping together. Mousey: Oh, yes, indeed. That's how I got my first mouse. Dame Hilda: You found it up an apple tree? Mousey: No, no. I fell out of an apple tree and broke my ankle and to cheer me up my father bought me a mouse. Dr. Hinge: And people say life in the country’s dull. By the way, Gudrun, here's your key. Dame Hilda: Oh, she won't be needing that now, Evadne. She's going to stay with us until Maud gets back. That is assuming, Mr. Butler, that we have no immediate cause to evacuate the house. Mousey: No, no, Dame Hilda. None so far, I'm happy to say, I can find nothing untoward anywhere, which leaves only this room. Dr. Hinge: I would imagine, Hilda, that Maud just wanted to warn us that Gudrun would be coming up for that key. Mousey: Just a moment. I think I can smell something. Gudrun: Drains! That's what that smell is. Drains! Dr. Hinge: Oh, don't say Maud’s done it again. Why won't she use a sink tidy? Dame Hilda: She can't, dear. She's got a geranium growing in that. Gudrun: Perhaps we should ‘ave the floor up. Mousey: Now hold your horses. My nose, which if I say it myself is a finely tuned instrument, tells me that that smell is not drains. Very like drains, but not drains. I know a drain when I smell one. Dame Hilda: Do you have to keep mentioning that word? Gudrun: I remember once we ‘ad a smell at ‘ome. And do you know what it turned out to be? Dame Hilda: What, dear? Gudrun: A dead stoat, stuck up the chimney. Mousey: No, no, that's not a dead stoat, and it's not in the chimney. That smell is coming from that open window there. Ah, now let's have a little look, shall we? Ah ah, just as I suspected, there's your culprit in that flower bed. Dame Hilda: If it's anything dead, I don't want to know. Mousey: No, no, Dame Hilda, it's very much alive. Dame Hilda: It's not a skunk. Mousey: Good gracious, no. Now this will interest you, Doctor. Dr. Hinge: What? Mousey: Come and look, there, down there. Dr. Hinge: Good heavens. Phallus impudicus! Dame Hilda: I don't like the sound of that. Mousey: The common stink horn, Dame Hilda. Dame Hilda: And I don't like the sound of that either. Mousey: It's a fungus common enough in late summer and autumn, and all too frequently, the cause of quite needless worries about bad drains. Gudrun: I used to pick stink ‘orns when I were a girl, and poke ‘em through people's letter boxes? Dame Hilda: I bet you were popular. Well, Maud certainly can't have been warning us about those. No, I think you’re right Evadne, it must have been the key. {Door knocks.} Dame Hilda: Oh, I'll go, now, who on earth can that be? Mousey: Well, Doctor, it has been the most enjoyable morning, and how splendid that you should be cognisant with Phallus impudicus. Perhaps one day we might go fungus hunting together. I know a spot where the naked agaric grows. Dr. Hinge: Then I suggest, Mr. Butler, that that is something you should keep to yourself. Gudrun: Now, why don’t I go and make us all a nice cup of tea. I know where everything is. Maud told me. Dr. Hinge: Oh, well, thank you, Gudrun, a lovely idea. Mousey: And I shall go and remove your stink horns. Gudrun: Come on, then, Mousey. I know where the shovel is. Dame Hilda: They make a lovely rustic couple, don’t they? Dr. Hinge: Who was at the door, dear? Dame Hilda: The milkman. Dr. Hinge: What does he want? Doesn't get paid till Saturday. Dame Hilda: No, no, no. He's had a note from Maud, dear, reminding him to leave milk at her place again from Saturday. Twenty five pages of it. Dr. Hinge: And he's come up to read to us, has he? Dame Hilda: No, but look. Amongst the pages was the missing one from our letter. It mentions us and was obviously to us, so he brought it up. Now, at least we have the answer to the mystery Evadne. Now, where's that other page? Dr. Hinge: Here it is. Dame Hilda: Right, now, let's see then. By the way, I forgot to tell you afore I went and just hope it ain't too late to warn you now that, our Gudrun is coming to stay. And will come up to your place to fetch the key, right. She don't like being on her own, so perhaps you'll be good enough to put her up for a night or two. Dr. Hinge: Well, there you are, Hilda. Just as we thought. No problem. Dame Hilda: Just a minute. There's more Evadne. There's one other thing as I should warn you of and that is not to let Gudrun handle anything precious or breakable. She is the clumsy one of the Print family. {Crash!} Gudrun: Oooh, dear. Oooh, dear. Dame Hilda: Those Prints. They’re as careless as each other. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, what I am thinking is definitely, very definitely, unprintable!!
Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor |
