On The Tiles.
Dame Hilda: I think I've told you before that Evadne shows not the slightest interest in the state of her domestic surroundings, it's absolutely true, you know. She's about as house proud as a weevil in a biscuit. Maybe even less so because I'm not awfully well up on weevils. I mean a year or so ago, a huge chunk of her bedroom ceiling came down on her in the middle of the night while she was asleep. She wasn't hurt or anything. It was only plaster and she always sleeps in protective clothing. But that hole in the ceiling is still there would you believe it? All she did was pin one of her ordinance survey maps over it. And now, if we want to travel anywhere in square 177, the only way I can study the route is to lie flat on her bed for half an hour. Which is something I wouldn't wish on anybody. However, even Evadne comes to realise that the time to make do and mend is over. Take for example one morning a week or two back, I was sitting in the drawing room quietly browsing through some music, when…. {Crash!} Dr. Hinge: Oh, hell and damnation! Dame Hilda: Good gracious me! Evadne is that you crashing about out there? Dr. Hinge: Well, who in heavens name do you think it is? Dame Hilda: Well judging from the noise, dear. I'd say it's either Maud or the Stackton Tressel old-time dance team. Dr. Hinge: Very funny! Dame Hilda: Are you all right, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: Hilda, I have just gone my full length out in that hall, and you ask me if I'm all right. Dame Hilda: It was such a dreadful noise. Dr. Hinge: Well of course it was. I had the hat stand over. Dame Hilda: What were you doing with it? Tossing the caber. Dr. Hinge: I caught my heel in that darned carpet again, that's what. Dame Hilda: Well I've told you before you should pick your feet up when you walk. You're getting very slovenly, you know. You walk like a limpet. Dr. Hinge: The way I walk has got nothing to do with it. It's you and Maud. If only you leave that blessed carpet alone and not be forever turning it round. Dame Hilda: We turn it round to try and hide the holes, dear. Dr. Hinge: Exactly, exactly. And I no sooner learn to pick my way around them, then you turn the darn thing again and it's a minefield! Dame Hilda: Well I never trip over the holes. Dr. Hinge: Of course you don't, you know where you've put them. Dame Hilda: And if you helped me to turn the carpet occasionally, you'd know where they are as well. I'm sorry, dear, it's your own fault entirely. Dr. Hinge: I might have guessed I’d get no sympathy from you. I'm beginning to feel quite shaky actually, I just hope I’ve not broken anything. Dame Hilda: So do I, dear? That is a very valuable hatstand. I say you do actually look a little green about the gills. Suppose I pour you a glass of sherry that will soon perk you up. Dr. Hinge: No thank you, Hilda. I couldn't face sherry, not just at the moment. Dame Hilda: Oh, you must be bad. Well, I'm going to have a little sherry. The sound of you and that hatstand going over, quite gave me a shock, you know. I could feel the blood drain from my cheeks. Do I look pale? Dr. Hinge: Hilda, I could have broken my neck! Dame Hilda: I don't think you'll be talking quite as much if you had, dear. No, I'm sure if you'd broken anything you'd know it. Can you waggle your fingers? Dr. Hinge: Yes, I can. Dame Hilda: Oh, well, your hands are all right then. Can you waggle your toes? Dr. Hinge: No. No, I can't. Oh, I say Hilda. Dame Hilda: Take your shoes off, dear. Dr. Hinge: Yes, yes, my toes are all right. Dame Hilda: Oh, well, there's not much wrong with you, I can see your head's moving. Can you waggle your ears? Dr. Hinge: No, I can’t! Dame Hilda: Oh, then perhaps you've broken your ear waggler. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, I have never been able to waggle my ears. Dame Hilda: Really? Well, I can waggle mine. Dr. Hinge: Well, I'm very happy for you. Dame Hilda: There, can't you see? my ears, dear, I'm waggling them. Dr. Hinge: Well, I hate to disappoint you, but they're not waggling. Dame Hilda: What? Oh, don't say I've lost the knack. I mean, one hates to think that one is losing one's faculties. Dr. Hinge: Of course, it could be just the weight of those earrings. Dame Hilda: Well, they certainly feel as if they're waggling. Dr. Hinge: Well, they're not. Go and look in the mirror. Dame Hilda: Ah, yes. Dr. Hinge: Well? Dame Hilda: Yes, I think you'd better go and get your eyes tested, dear. They are waggling, look. Dr. Hinge: Well, I don't call that waggling, I mean, they're just moving very slightly up and down. Dame Hilda: Well, I never claimed to be able to flap them. I'm not dumbo! Dr. Hinge: Not all the time, no. Dame Hilda: Oh, I know it's only a tiny talent, but add it to all the rest. You see, you're smiling, my waggling's cheered you up, hasn't it? Taken your mind off your troubles. I say, do you feel like a song now? Dr. Hinge: Well, I'm game for anything that'll take your mind off your ears. I’m beginning to feel as if I'm living on Watership down. Dame Hilda: Well, isn't that a coincidence, dear? I was just looking through some music and I turned up this copy of Run, rabbit, run! Dr. Hinge: Then lose it again. Dame Hilda: Oh, here we are, just the thing. Something nice and cheerful. This’ll do you good. If your fingers are up to it, what do you think? Dr. Hinge: I'll do my best. Dame Hilda: Of course you will, dear. Now play.
Oh, there's a fine one beside the sea There's something about his dope That makes you do a highland fling As soon as you had a taste of it You’ll want to dance and sing Doctor briny, Doctor briny Oh, what a breezy way you've got with you. There's something in your lotion, most appealing That gives us all a bubbly kind of feeling By the seashore, where the waves roar It's wonderful the silly things we do Doctor briny, Doctor briny There's nobody bucks us up like you Wonderful, Doctor briny, you’ve a lot to answer for You made us all sing, what o she bumps When we go on the steamer and it rocks in stormy seas Who is the cause of mixing up the he’s among the shes Doctor briny, Doctor briny Oh, What a breezy way you've got with you There's something in your lotion most appealing That gives us all a bubbly kind of feeling By the seashore where the waves roar It's wonderful the silly things we do Doctor briny. Doctor briny There's nobody bucks us up like you
Dame Hilda: There wasn't that nice, quite spirited, in fact. Dr. Hinge: Or even raucous. Dame Hilda: It’s certainly put a bit of colour back into your cheeks. You're looking almost your old self again, it’s quite frightening. Now, if you're feeling up to it, you can give me a hand with that carpet. Dr. Hinge: What are you going to do with it now? Dame Hilda: Turn it, dear, I'm going to turn it. Dr. Hinge: If you ask me, the only sensible thing you can do with that carpet is take it up and throw it out. Dame Hilda: I'm very fond of that carpet. Dr. Hinge: Well, then take it up and hang it on the wall. At least it'll be out of harm's way. Dame Hilda: But the holes would show up dreadfully, dear. Dr. Hinge: Well, not against that horrible, flowery wallpaper you insisted on having. But I don't care what you do so long as you get rid of that death trap. Dame Hilda: I don't know, I really don't know. Dr. Hinge: Yes, you do. You know full well, that carpet has had its day. Dame Hilda: Well, perhaps, possibly. Just for once you may be right, perhaps we do need a new hall carpet. Dr. Hinge: I said nothing about buying a new carpet, I said you should get rid of the old one. Dame Hilda: And what do you propose putting on the hall floor then, old newspapers, saw dust or were you thinking of sacking? Dr. Hinge: What's wrong with bare boards? Dame Hilda: Bare boards. Dr. Hinge: We could stain them. Dame Hilda: They're stained already. They're paint stained, water stained, grime stained. You name it, they're stained with it. Dr. Hinge: We could always hire a sander. Dame Hilda: I am not having my hall floor covered in sand. Dr. Hinge: Now you're being deliberately obtuse. Still, if you want a carpet, we'll buy a second hand carpet. Dame Hilda: I don't want a second hand carpet. Dr. Hinge: Why, ever not? The one we've got’s second hand. Dame Hilda: What do you mean second hand? That carpet came from Binky Beaumont’s old office at the Globe theatre. It may be a little worn and patchy, like you, dear, but it's a piece of theatrical history. When you think of it, what tales that carpet could tell? Dr. Hinge: Just thank the lord, it can't speak. Dame Hilda: The stars who went in and out of Binky's office, who crossed over that old carpet. Dr. Hinge: On their knees, presumably, and touching their forelocks. Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, you do live in such a brown Windsor world. Anyway, I'm certainly not having a carpet that somebody in Stackton has cast off. Dr. Hinge: Do you have any idea at all how much a new carpet would cost? Dame Hilda: Well, I saw some very nice ones the other day for about 15 pounds a square yard. Dr. Hinge: Did you? And how many square yards do you think it would take to cover that hall floor? Dame Hilda: Well, err, I suppose about four. Dr. Hinge: Four? Dame Hilda: Well, it would only be 60 pounds, dear, and you'd only have to pay half. Dr. Hinge: Hilda: How big do you think a square yard is? Dame Hilda: What do you mean how big do I think it is? It's nine feet by nine, isn't it? Dr. Hinge: Nine feet by nine? How'd you make that out? Dame Hilda: Well, it's three feet to a yard and to get a square one. Well, you square it. And three by three is nine, and so it's no good your saying it isn’t. Dr. Hinge: Yes, yes, three by three is nine, but... Dame Hilda: That's what I said. Dr. Hinge: But a square yard isn't nine by nine. It's three by three. Dame Hilda: Which is nine. Dr. Hinge: Yes, but not laterally. Dame Hilda: Oh, I see. You mean it should be metric. Dr. Hinge: I mean it's not nine feet long. God, give me strength! Where's the tape measure? We'll go out and measure that hall. Dame Hilda: Ah, now wait a moment, I saw that somewhere this morning. Dr. Hinge: Yes? Dame Hilda: Now, where was it? Where did I see it? Dr. Hinge: You’ve lost it! Dame Hilda: No, no, no, no, no, no, I did see it somewhere. Dr. Hinge: Well, it's not where it should be, in the desk drawer. Dame Hilda: Not necessarily, no, but that may be when I saw it. Dr. Hinge: What's that in the fruit bowl? On top of the bananas. Dame Hilda: Oh, that's where I saw it. I must have left it there yesterday when I was measuring them. Dr. Hinge: You were measuring the bananas. Dame Hilda: That's right. Dr. Hinge: You shouldn't be left on your own, you know. Dame Hilda: Maud, wanted a medium sized one Dr. Hinge: What for? Dame Hilda: For her dumplings and I found her one. Dr. Hinge: I don't believe this. Dame Hilda: It's perfectly simple. And it's amazing how they differ. Do you know the smallest one in that bunch is only six inches long? And the largest is nine and a quarter. Now that's more than half as long again, and that's a lot. Dr. Hinge: You know, you should go on Mastermind and take bananas as your subject. Dame Hilda: Now, isn't that funny? Maud said you'd make a remark like that if you knew what we'd been up too. She's really very shrewd. Maud, you know, in her own peculiar way. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, just grab hold of that tape measure and let's get out into the hall. Dame Hilda: Right, Evadne, I’m with you. Dr. Hinge: If only I felt that was going to be an advantage. {Hall.} Dame Hilda: Now, what do you want me to do? Dr. Hinge: Well, for a start, I don't want you to stand on the end of the tape measure. Dame Hilda: Sorry. Dr. Hinge: Now we'll measure the width first. Dame Hilda: If you think that's wise. Dr. Hinge: Why shouldn't it be? Dame Hilda: Oh, I'm not disagreeing with you, dear. I'm just passing a comment. Dr. Hinge: Yes. Well, now, if you kneel down, you can hold that end of the tape against the skirting board, and I'll do the measuring. Dame Hilda: Right. Dr. Hinge: Well, that's six feet to here. Dame Hilda: Good. Dr. Hinge: Well, don’t just kneel there. You've now got to bring that end of the tape up to my finger, haven't you? Dame Hilda: Right, like this, dear. Dr. Hinge: Look, if you're going to crawl all over the floor, it's going to take ages. Dame Hilda: Evadne, I'm not telling you how to handle your end, so please don't tell me how to handle mine. Dr. Hinge: Very well, now put the end of the tape here, will you? Dame Hilda: Not until you move your finger. Dr. Hinge: Put your finger there. Dame Hilda: I'm trying to, but your finger's in the way. And so is the rest of you come to that. I mean, we do want this to be accurate. Dr. Hinge: Oh good heavens. Dame Hilda: That's better. Now, off you go again. Dr. Hinge: Right, six feet so far. And it's another six feet to here. So that's 12 feet. Oh do come on, Hilda. Dame Hilda: Don't tug the tape, dear. I'm not a dog on a lead. And I'm coming as fast as my knees will carry me. Dr. Hinge: Honestly! Dame Hilda: 12 feet, you said. Dr. Hinge: 12, yes, and it's another six to here, which is 18. Plus, let me see, a foot and a half to the wall. That's 19 and a half feet Dame Hilda: Less one and a half inches. Dr. Hinge: Why less one and a half inches? Dame Hilda: Because there's one and a half inches missing off this end of the tape measure. It starts at one and a half. Dr. Hinge: Why didn't you tell me? Dame Hilda: You didn't ask me, dear. Dr. Hinge: So that means we have to deduct four and a half inches, don't we? Dame Hilda: No, no. Just a minute. There's more than one and a half missing. Oh, it starts at just over two and a half now. Dr. Hinge: I don't know why I bother, really? Dame Hilda: But don't worry, Evadne. While you try to work the width out, I'll walk the length for you, toe to heel, it'll give us a rough idea. So, back to the wall and one, two, three, four, five. Evadne! Dr. Hinge: What? Dame Hilda: Can you move the hatstand, dear? Dr. Hinge: Oh for heavens sake, go round it. Dame Hilda: Oh, all right then, well. Six, seven, eight, nine, Evadne! Dr. Hinge: What now? Dame Hilda: Can you move the hall table, dear? If I go round that I'm going to add about six feet. Dr. Hinge: Just stay where you are and I'll start at this side and come towards you. Dame Hilda: Oh, that's a good idea. I wish I was scientifically minded. Dr. Hinge: One, two, three, four, five, Both: Six, seven. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, do be quiet! Dame Hilda: I was only trying to prevent you losing your track. Dr. Hinge: Eight, nine, ten, eleven. And the table's four feet wide. So, my eleven, your nine, and the table's four, that's twenty-four feet. Dame Hilda: Yes, but my nine isn't nine feet, dear. My foot's very petite, it’s barely eight inches long. Mind, yours may very well compensate. Dr. Hinge: Look, let's just say for the sake of argument, it's twenty foot square, Hilda. So, twenty by twenty is... Dame Hilda: No good looking at me. Dr. Hinge: Yes, four hundred, four hundred, isn't it? Four hundred square feet divided by nine, say, forty four square yards at fifteen pounds a square yard. So, your sixty pound new carpet is in effect going to cost six hundred and sixty. Dame Hilda: Six hundred and sixty pounds for a hall carpet. I wonder whether we could live with linoleum.
Dame Hilda: Well, over the next few weeks we spent so much time in carpet shops and DIY stores that people began to think we were a couple of shoplifters waiting to strike. We made friends with an awful lot of store detectives. I felt it was all too much, but Evadne had now got the bit between her teeth and there was no stopping her. We collected ever so many samples. In fact, we did consider carpeting the hall entirely with samples. And this led us to carpet tiles. So, one dreadful morning, Evadne launched into the hall with piles of tiles and a pot of adhesive. And I went along to watch and advise. {Hall.} Dame Hilda: Evadne, it says here on the wrapping. Dr. Hinge: I don't care what it says there. Dame Hilda: But shouldn't you, dear? I mean, these are the instructions. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, I had a long talk with that man in the shop. Dame Hilda: I know, I saw him yawning. Dr. Hinge: And his house is covered in carpet tiles. Dame Hilda: Don’t they get soggy when it rains. Ha, ha, ha. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, if you are going to sit on the stairs there making stupid remarks, I'd sooner you went and got on with something else and left this to me. Dame Hilda: But, Evadne, it says here. Dr. Hinge: Please, Hilda. Dame Hilda: It says here they should be loose laid, not stuck to the floor like you're doing. Dr. Hinge: I'm only sticking one in four. Dame Hilda: You don't have to do that. Dr. Hinge: As a precaution. Dame Hilda: Quite unnecessary. It says here… Dr. Hinge: Hilda! What's that? Dame Hilda: Oh, that's probably Maud. Dr. Hinge: What on earth is she doing. Dame Hilda: She's probably trying to get in I think. Dr. Hinge: Thank goodness we locked it. {Door knocks.} Dame Hilda: Well, you'd better unlock it, dear. She'll have it down. Dr. Hinge: I'll soon see about that. MAUD, MAUD! Maud: What's wrong, Doctor? Dr. Hinge: There's nothing wrong. We're busy in the hall. Maud: What yer say, can't properly ‘ear yer. Dr. Hinge: Oh, push the letterbox open you silly woman, then we won't have to shout at each other. Dame Hilda: Why blame the letterbox when you spend all your time shouting at each other? Maud: Oh, Doctor, I can't get in, can you get out? Dr. Hinge: Of course I can get out. Maud: Then, why can't I get in? Dame Hilda: We've got the door locked, Maud. The doctor's working on the floor. Dr. Hinge: Use the back door, Maud, the back door's open. Maud: Why can't I use the front door, Doctor? Dr. Hinge: Dame Hilda’s just told you, I'm working on the floor. Maud: Not now, you ain't, you're stood arguing through the letterbox. Dr. Hinge: Stupid woman. Dame Hilda: Maud, for my sake, dear, go round the back, would you? There's a terrible draught coming through that letterbox. Maud: Oh, very well, Dame ‘ilda, for your sake. Though I'll point out that I don't ‘old with this business of one door for some folks and another door for t’others. If I’m good enough to clean the knocker, I'm good enough to come through the door. Dr. Hinge: Why is that woman so stupid? Dame Hilda: It's just that you bring out the worst in her, dear, mind, you bring out the worst in everybody. It's not often I criticise people, but... Evadne, you've got that tile the wrong way round. Dr. Hinge: Which one? Dame Hilda: That one. Dr. Hinge: Well, too bad. It's stuck down now. You should have mentioned it before. Dame Hilda: But it's the wrong way round. I keep telling you not to stick them down. The pile on that one is going in the opposite direction to the pile on the others. Now, it says here… Dr. Hinge: I don't care what it says there. I'll dot a few more about upside down, people will think it's a kind of pattern. Dame Hilda: Well, it looks a very funny pattern to me. Dr. Hinge: Well, the Persians never make a perfect carpet. That's traditional, only Allah is perfect. Dame Hilda: Well, he won't have much competition from you. Maud: Dame ‘ilda, Dame ‘ilda! Dame Hilda: What is it, Maud? Maud: I got meself in the kitchen all right, but I can't seem to get meself out. Dame Hilda: The door into the halls locked, Maud. Maud: Well, ‘ow am I supposed to do my duties if I can't get into the ‘ouse? Dr. Hinge: Isn't there something you can do in the kitchen, Maud? Maud: I'm doing something in the kitchen, ain't I, Doctor? I'm trying to get out of it. I've got a routine, you know. I suppose you realise it's Tuesday. Dr. Hinge: And what do you do on a Tuesday that's so special? Maud: Well, I do all the ‘all floor for a start. Then I goes into the drawing room. Dame Hilda: Ah, well, you can get into the drawing room from the garden, dear, the garden door isn't locked. Maud: Well, that'd be just fine, Dame ‘ilda, if this was a Wednesday. Dame Hilda: And what difference does the day make, dear? Maud: All the difference in the world, Dame ‘ilda. You see, on a Tuesday, all I does is ‘as a peak in the drawing room to see if it looks as if it might want doing, and if it do look as if it might want doing, then of course I does it. But not till Wednesday, cos on a Tuesday, I like to make an early start up stairs. And it ain't no good you're saying the bedroom window's open. Because I ain't brought a ladder! Dame Hilda: You know, Evadne, I'm beginning to wish we'd left Binkys carpet down. Dr. Hinge: So am I? With any luck, Maud would have broken her silly neck on it. Dame Hilda: It's no good, dear. I'm going to have to let her into the hall. Dr. Hinge: Well, on your head, be it. Dame Hilda: Now, Maud, Maud, I'm going to unlock this kitchen door, dear, but you must be very, very careful. There's loose tiles everywhere, and there's lots of sticky patches where the Doctor’s stuck tiles down wrong and had to take them all up again. And there's lots of tiles lying about all covered in sticky and not stuck, because she's lost count and doesn't know where to stick them. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, if you think you can do better. Dame Hilda: I am not criticising, dear. I'm just trying to prevent Maud from coming through that door like a haystack in a hurricane. It's all right, Maud, it's open. Well, where is she? Dr. Hinge: Well, let's hope she's given up and gone home. Dame Hilda: Maud, Maud, where are you? Maud: I'm in the drawing room now, Dame ‘ilda. And this door's locked an’all. Dame Hilda: Well, as you're already in there, Maud, why not break your routine and start in there? Maud: Oh, no. I could never do that. Dame Hilda: Oh, why not, dear? Maud: It’d confuse me, that's why. It’d put me out for the rest of the week. Dame Hilda: Couldn't you pretend? I mean, just for once that today is Wednesday. Maud: Oh, very well, Dame ‘ilda, for you then, I'll try. Dame Hilda: Thank you, Maud. You see, Evadne, if you're patient and reasonable with her, she's really no trouble at all. Maud: Dame ‘ilda! Dame Hilda: Yes, Maud, dear? Maud: Are you going to open this door? Dr. Hinge: She's really no trouble at all. Dame Hilda: But, Maud, dear, I thought we'd agreed that you'd make a start in there. Maud: Well, that's what I'm trying to do, Dame ‘ilda. But I can't make a start without the vacuum cleaner and the vacuum cleaner's in the ‘all. Dame Hilda: It's no good Evadne, I'm going to have to open the drawing room door. Dr. Hinge: So, game, set and match to Maud. And if we're going to have that door open, we may as well have them all open. Dame Hilda: Come in, dear. Maud: Oh, thank you, Dame ‘ilda. Dr. Hinge: I wouldn't like to hinder her progress through the house in any way at all. I'll open the front door as well, there! Dame Hilda: Oooh, Maud: My goodness me! Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, look what you've done. Dr. Hinge: What? Dame Hilda: it's the adhesive, dear. Oh, it's going all over the floor. Oh, good heavens, look at the mess. Dr. Hinge: And whose fault is that? Maud: Well, it certainly ain't my fault, Doctor. I've ‘ardly got into the ‘all. Dr. Hinge: You've got far enough in to have a tile stuck to your foot though, haven't you? Maud: Oh, Dame ‘ilda, look. And I've just ‘ad these shoes soled and ‘eeled. Dame Hilda: Now Maud, don’t worry, dear? If you step out of your shoe, dear, I'll pull the tile off it. No, no, no, no. Maud don’t put your foot down there. Oh Maud. Maud: Trust me to put me foot in it. Dr. Hinge: Don’t let her move another inch, Hilda. I'll come to you. Dame Hilda: Very well, dear, but hurry, we don't want her to set. Evadne, Evadne! watch where you're putting your foot down. Dr. Hinge: Oh, damnation! Dame Hilda: Too late, Dr. Hinge: Darn it, I can't move. Dame Hilda: Still, I suppose this is what they call poetic justice, Evadne. Dr. Hinge: What is? Dame Hilda: I mean, all these years people have thought you were a bit stuck up when really you’re a bit stuck down!
Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor |
