Something To Look Back On. Dame Hilda: One evening last autumn I attended a whale of an evening. Everyone was there, except of course, Evadne. She's always being invited to these dos, but she never goes. Which is probably why they keep inviting her. One day she's going to turn up and ruin everybody's evening. Anyhow, this particular do turned out to be even more interesting than usual. And I returned home to the old manse a good deal later than I had expected to, not that Evadne seemed to notice’ {Drawing room.}
Dame Hilda: Cooee, Evadne. I'm back! Dr. Hinge: What already? Dame Hilda: It's almost 10:30 dear. Dr. Hinge: My goodness, how time does fly when you're out. Dame Hilda: Oh, the shrimp boats are coming, their sails are in sight. Oh, the shrimp boats are coming. Dr. Hinge: All right. There was obviously no shortage of sherry at your do. Dame Hilda: Look, dear, look, in the napkin, I’ve brought you a little present. Dr. Hinge: What is it? Dame Hilda: What do you mean, what is it? It's a shrimp. Dr. Hinge: And what do you expect me to do with that? Dame Hilda: Well, you can please yourself, dear. You can either eat it or you can pop it into a little bowl of water and keep it as a pet. Dr. Hinge: I hate it when you go to dos like that, you always come back silly. Dame Hilda: Well, if I do, I don't stay silly for very long, not with you about. It's like coming home to a cold compress. Now, do you want this shrimp or not? Because if you don't, I shall give it to the cats. Dr. Hinge: Oh, that'll be a treat among the three of them. Dame Hilda: Oh, you are an old misery. But you'd have enjoyed tonight, you know. Dr. Hinge: I have enjoyed tonight. Dame Hilda: You'd have enjoyed it even more if you'd been with me. Dr. Hinge: Oh, no, I wouldn't. Dame Hilda: I bet you would. Dr. Hinge: I wouldn't. Dame Hilda: How'd you know you wouldn't you weren’t there? Dr. Hinge: That's why I wasn't there, because I knew I wouldn't have enjoyed it. I know what those dos are like, they're always the same, the same old faces, the same old food, the same old boring gossip, tittle-tattle and chit-chat. Dame Hilda: It's not all just gossip, tittle-tattle and chit-chat, dear. Some very interesting things can happen to one at a do like that. Dr. Hinge: Such as? Dame Hilda: You get asked to lay foundation stones. Dr. Hinge: At a party? Dame Hilda: Yes. Dr. Hinge: One moment, Hilda, just let me get this straight. Someone at this party asked you to lay a foundation stone? Dame Hilda: That's right. Dr. Hinge: They were obviously having you on. Dame Hilda: They were not. Dr. Hinge: That's the trouble with that sort of do. You see, people get so very silly at them, half of them start saying silly things, and the other half start believing them. Dame Hilda: Evadne! I have been asked to lay a foundation stone. Dr. Hinge: Seriously? Dame Hilda: Well, there was no mention of my having to perform the ceremony in cap and bells, dear. Dr. Hinge: What sort of foundation stone would anyone ask you to lay, I wonder? No, no, don't tell me, let me guess, let me see, let me see, now. Oh, Marilyn modes are building a bigger hat shop? Dame Hilda: No. Dr. Hinge: They're adding a unisex salon to the hairdressers. Dame Hilda: No. Dr. Hinge: I know. It's up on the industrial estate, isn't it? A new development, someone's building an earring factory. Dame Hilda: Very funny, Evadne, very funny, indeed. And we all know who they’d ask if it was a factory for making Wellington boots. But actually, dear, I have been asked to lay the foundation stone of the new public library extension. Dr. Hinge: The library? Dame Hilda: The library. Dr. Hinge: They've asked you? Dame Hilda: That's right. Dr. Hinge: You? Dame Hilda: Yes. Dr. Hinge: But you're totally unqualified. Dame Hilda: They've only asked me to lay the foundation stone. They haven't asked me to build the extension. Dr. Hinge: Well, really. I've never heard of a more inept choice. It's like asking the big bad wolf to lay the foundation stone of a piggery. I mean, you're practically illiterate. Dame Hilda: One doesn't have to be Dostoevsky to lay a foundation stone, dear. Dr. Hinge: And who told you about Dostoevsky? Dame Hilda: You did. Well, you knew him, didn't you? Dr. Hinge: Don’t be so stupid. Dame Hilda: Well, you always go on as if you did. I mean, the way you talk about Dostoevsky, you might have been childhood sweethearts. Dr. Hinge: I don't understand it. Fancy asking you, I mean, all those years I was a member of the library committee. They should have asked me! Dame Hilda: Evadne, I probably use that library more than anybody else in Stackton. Dr. Hinge: Yes, but you only read rubbish. Dame Hilda: Well, if what I read is rubbish, they've got an awful lot of it in there. So it's just as well somebody reads it. At least I'm not a darned nuisance. Always wanting books they haven't got. Every time you want a book, they have to send to Lemington Spa for it. Dr. Hinge: Boston Spa. Dame Hilda: All right, Boston Spa then. And it's a funny library if you ask me that one in Boston Spa. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, that is where the lending division of the British library happens to be located. Dame Hilda: The last book you had down, they wouldn't even let you take it out of the library. I shudder to think what it was. Dr. Hinge: It was a very rare and precious book. Dame Hilda: Well, if they don't trust you with their books, I'm not surprised they won't let you near their foundation stone. Dr. Hinge: Who was the idiot who asked you to lay the stone? Dame Hilda: I don't remember his name. It was a very charming white haired gentleman with a beard. Dr. Hinge: Oh, don't tell me, dressed in red, sack over his shoulder, and offered show you his reindeer. Dame Hilda: No, but you're close. He was in a kaftan and he wanted to show me his Morris 1000. Dr. Hinge: Oh, that idiot! Dame Hilda: He absolutely adored my hat.Dr. Hinge: Yes, probably bought a lot of happy memories. Dame Hilda: Do you really think so? Dr. Hinge: I'm sure of it. His father used to have a fruit stall in the market. Dame Hilda: Anyway, he asked where you were. Dr. Hinge: I was always crossing swords with him. Dame Hilda: You cross swords with everybody. You cross more swords than the three musketeers. Dr. Hinge: I do hope that laying the foundation stone of the library extension isn't going to start you spouting purple prose. Dame Hilda: That's the trouble with you, Evadne. You're a literary snob. You complain about me, but your friend Dostoyevsky, he can get away with murder. Dr. Hinge: Presumably the person the library committee really wanted for the stone laying couldn't do it? Dame Hilda: Well, your friend was perfectly honest about that, dear. I wasn't the first choice. Dr. Hinge: Ah, well, there you are then what did I tell you? Who was the first choice? Dame Hilda: Princess Diana! Dr. Hinge: They've got ideas above their station. Dame Hilda: Well, their second choice was Nancy Reagan. Dr. Hinge: I bet the whole thing is just a silly joke. Dame Hilda: Well, I will admit, Evadne, I have been pulling your leg a bit. Princess Diana wasn't the first choice. Dr. Hinge: Who was then? Dame Hilda: I was! But, and it's a very big but. Dr. Hinge: Then why don't you fill it with water and jump into it? Dame Hilda: Evadne, if you're not careful, you're going to be a very, very sorry. Dr. Hinge: What for? Dame Hilda: For being so rude to me. Dr. Hinge: Why should I be sorry? It isn't a thing I normally regret. Dame Hilda: Well, that settles it then, I was going to tell you something, but I've changed my mind, and now I'm not going to tell you. Dr. Hinge: Please yourself. Dame Hilda: Don't you want to know what it is I'm not going to tell you? Dr. Hinge: Not if you don't want to tell me, No, I think I shall go to bed, you've ruined my evening. Dame Hilda: I have, how? Dr. Hinge: By coming home. Dame Hilda: Right. Just for that, I will tell you. And then you'll feel rotten, you just see if you don't. Dr. Hinge: I'm sorry, I'm not interested in your tittle-tattle. Dame Hilda: They're going to name that library extension after you. Dr. Hinge: What? Dame Hilda: Yes, dear, after you. Dr. Hinge: You're not serious?
Dame Hilda: They're going to call it The Evadne Hinge Extension. I told them it would make it sound like an iron monger's annexe. Dr. Hinge: Oh, I see. Another one of your silly jokes. Dame Hilda: It is not Evadne. Guides honour. Would you like me to swear on my shrimp? Dr. Hinge: Who told you this? Dame Hilda: Well, who do you think? Your idiot friend, of course. Oh, official confirmation's on the way. But as soon as he saw me, well, of course, he took me to one side and treated me to what I believe they call an official leak. Dr. Hinge: Well, he always dribbles when he's excited. Dame Hilda: Well, are you pleased? Dr. Hinge: Of course I'm pleased. Dame Hilda: It's going to be quite a day, isn't it, for both of us. I shall lay the foundation stone, of course I shall have my name on that. And I shall say a few nice words about you, if I can think of any. Then your idiot friend will have to say a few nice things about you, if he can think of any. And then you'll have to thank us both for saying whatever nice things we may have invented. And then with any luck the bar might be open. I say, Evadne, you’re quite moved, aren't you? Is that a little tear I see? Dr. Hinge: Well, it’s quite an honour, Hilda.Dame Hilda: Yes, it is. Dr. Hinge: And I'm sorry I was a little short with you. Dame Hilda: Here, I'll eat this blessed shrimp and you can dry your eyes with the napkin. Dr. Hinge: It’s just so nice to know that one is appreciated. Dame Hilda: That's very true, dear, come on Evadne do stop snivelling. Dr. Hinge: I’m not snivelling, I think I must be getting a bit of a cold. Dame Hilda: You are a funny old thing, you really are. You spend most of your time being thoroughly miserable. And then something really nice happens to you and everybody expects you to cheer up. And all you do is get even more miserable. I'll tell you what, you pour us each a celebratory glass of sherry and I'll find us a nice jolly song to sing.Dr. Hinge: That's a good idea. I think I deserve a little drink after all I've been through since you got home. I feel as if I've been put through a mangle. Dame Hilda: You look as if you have too. Dr. Hinge: Now, Hilda, you're not going to spoil it, here drink your sherry. Dame Hilda: Thank you, dear. Well, here's to us. Well, us and the library extension. Dr. Hinge: To the library extension. Dame Hilda: Oh, that reminds me. I must take my books back they’re nearly overdue. Dr. Hinge: Well, I'd leave it till after the ceremony if I were you, Hilda. Dame Hilda: Why, dear? Dr. Hinge: Well, I don't think it would be wise at this juncture to remind them of the sort of books you read. Now, which song do you want? Dame Hilda: Oh, here, this one, I think, dear I think the words are rather appropriate. Dr. Hinge: Very well then. Here goes.  There's no friend like an old friend Remember that young fellow There's no wine like an old wine If it's not got corked in the cellar There's no song like an old song just think of auld lang syne There's no face like an old face Do you refer to mine Oh, let's put it every care away and from today We'll be as happy as the dicky birds The downy dicky birds, who in their nests Will never, never disagree Nobody else has surely ever met Quite such a happy, happy, happy, family We feel so friendly and so affable To think of quarrelling is to absurd So from morning till night We'll be chirpy and bright Like the sparrows, the thrushes The magpies, the cuckoos Or any other sort of dicky, dicky birds
Dame Hilda: A lovely little song that, isn’t it. We must remember that one in case we ever asked to open an aviary. Oh, and talking of twittering that reminds me, Peter and Mandy Moore were at the do tonight. Dr. Hinge: Not dressed as canaries as I hope. Dame Hilda: Oh, no, dear, they won't do that again. No, not after we all saw their canaries as at the fancy dress ball. Dr. Hinge: What a treat that was. I mean, she spent the evening catching cocktail cherries in her beak, and he had one too many and fell off his perch. Dame Hilda: Yes, well, there wasn't a feather in sight tonight. They were really quite normal. Well, you know, normal for them. As a matter of fact, they had rather a good idea. Dr. Hinge: I don't believe it. Dame Hilda: Well, I must admit, I sowed the seed in their minds. Dr. Hinge: Birdseed presumably. Dame Hilda: You know, you really should have been at that do tonight. Your comic repartee would have been a great success, particularly as the evening wore on. But to get back to Peter and Mandy.Dr. Hinge: Do we have to? Dame Hilda: Evadne, put the sherry decanter down just for a minute and listen. Peter and Mandy suggested that we should bury a time capsule in the library wall. You know the sort of thing. We fill it with all kinds of items representative of Stackton life in the 1980s. So that when at some distant point in time somebody comes across it and opens it, they get a wonderful surprise. Dr. Hinge: Why? What do they find in it? Dame Hilda: Well, that's what we have to decide. Anyway, Peter and Mandy Moore are going to pop around on Thursday. So that we can put our heads together. We thought four heads would be better than one. Dr. Hinge: Well, let's just hope they remember to bring their one! {Thursday.} Dame Hilda: Well, now if we're all ready, nobody wants any more coffee or biscuits? P&D: Oh, no. Dame Hilda: Right, well, we might as well begin. Evadne, would you pass me my pen, dear?Dr. Hinge: Why don't you let me take the notes, Hilda? Dame Hilda: Why? Dr. Hinge: Because I don't doodle all over the note pad. Mandy: I doodle, don't I, Peter? Peter: Well, you don't really doodle, dear, you draw. Mandy: I don’t! I doodle! Peter: Well, your doodles are better than most people's. If I could doodle like you, I'd not call it doodling. I'd call it drawing, like Leonardo did. Dame Hilda: Leonardo used to doodle on mirrors. Dr. Hinge: What are you talking about? Dame Hilda: Well, I read that somewhere. Leonardo da Vinci used to write on mirrors. Dr. Hinge: Leonardo da Vinci was left handed, Hilda. And his manuscript's are written from right to left in what is known as mirror writing. He did not doodle on mirrors, as far as I know. Dame Hilda: Well, we can all see why they're naming the library extension after you. We must just hope they make the door wide enough to get your head through. Dr. Hinge: Can we please begin? Mandy, perhaps you'd like to start the ball rolling for us. What do you suggest we might bury in our time capsule? Mandy: Oh, we've got a whole list of things, Doctor, P where’s the list. Peter: Here we are, D. Mandy: This isn't the list. Peter: What do you mean, this isn't the list? If that isn't a list, what is it? Mandy: It's a list, P, but it's not the list. Peter: It's the list that was on the kitchen table. Mandy: That may be so, P, but the list was on the dresser, the list was the red list. The list you brought is the green one, look, half the things on this list have been crossed off. Peter: Well, half the things on the red list have been crossed off. Mandy: Yes, P, but not the same things. Peter: Well, anyway. It's hardly the end of the world, is it? Here, let me read out what we've got on that list. Even though it's not the list, it's a list. And a lot of things that are on that are on the other. So even if there are some things on the other that aren’t on that, at least it's an indication of the way our minds are working. Dr. Hinge: A very good indication by the sound of it. Dame Hilda: And what exactly have you got on that list then, Peter? Peter: I'll read it. Washing up liquid, kitchen rolls, toilet rolls. Mandy: You're reading the wrong side, P. That's my shopping list. Peter: D, I am not a fool. Dr. Hinge: Should we put it to the vote? Dame Hilda: I've got my hand up! Peter: D, did we or did we not agree that certain items from your shopping list should be added to the other list as likely to be of some historical interest of future generations? Mandy: Yes, P, we did. Peter: There we are then. Mandy: But not the cauliflower. Peter: What cauliflower? I've not said a word about cauliflower. Mandy: And what's that then? Peter: What's what? Mandy: There next to the toilet rolls. Peter: Ah. I'll start again. Right then. Washing up liquid. kitchen rolls, toilet rolls. Dame Hilda: Which side are you're reading now then? Dr. Hinge: For goodness sake! If we carry on like this, we'll be here all day. Now, as a guide, the sort of thing we might include, I have here a list of the objects that are buried under Cleopatra's needle. Dame Hilda: First Leonardo, now Cleopatra. You've met some people in your time, Evadne. Dr. Hinge: When Cleopatra's needle was erected on the Victoria embankment in 1878, two large earthenware jars were placed in the centre of the pedestal. Dame Hilda: We could bury that hideous pot Teddy Tranter gave us for Christmas. Peter: If that's what you're after, Mandy's got two enormous ones. She brought them all the way back from Baghdad. Mandy: I didn't bring them P, Daddy did. Peter: I’ll never know how Daddy carried them. Mandy: Daddy didn't, mummy did. Dame Hilda: It's a shame we didn't know about those when the old Repertory company did Ali Baba. They could only afford two thieves. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, do you or do you not want to know what is buried under Cleopatra's needle? Dame Hilda: I can hardly wait to find out, dear. I'm all agog. Dr. Hinge: That's always been your trouble. Now, among the items in those two big jars are standard foot and pound, a half inch scale model of the obelisk, a copy of Bradshaw's railway guide, a complete set of British coinage. Dame Hilda: That's quite a good idea. You can put my name down for the two pee. Dr. Hinge: A case of cigars and several pipes. Dame Hilda: We could bury your pipe, P, now that you've given up. Peter: I haven't completely given up, D, I still light up, now and again? Mandy: Of course you do, P, I remember. Dr. Hinge: There are copies of the daily papers and also a copy of Whitakers almanac. Dame Hilda: Perhaps I could bury one of my diaries. Dr. Hinge: You should bury them all. And there's a portrait of Queen Victoria and photographs of a dozen famous beauties of the period. Dame Hilda: Really? Dr. Hinge: Yes. Dame Hilda: Oh. That's it, then, isn't it? What a splendid idea for our time capsule. Dr. Hinge: Oh, do you think so? Dame Hilda: Oh, of course it is, dear. Yes. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, where are you going? Dame Hilda: To get my photograph albums dear. And you three can help me to decide which of the dozen prettiest pictures of me. Dame Hilda: Well, in the end and despite all our efforts, Evadne secretly enlisted the help of her old, library committee chums. And they managed to put together the most boring collection of old rubbish I've ever seen. There was a copy of the architects' plans for the extension, covered in tea stains, an ashtray bearing the Stackton coat of arms, which until recently had been in regular use by the town halls night porter who just died, a tin of drawing pins, a box of rubber bands, and four bulldog clips, which Evadne was somewhat loath to part with. Well, she'd always used them to keep her coat closed in a high wind. Mind, I did manage when no one was looking, to sneak in a dozen pictures of myself in a plain brown wrapper. The day itself went off quite well, and Evadne and I eventually returned to the old manse, tired, but content. {Drawing room.} Dame Hilda: I say, Evadne, these flowers they gave us, do you know they must have cost a bob or two. Do you think they're on the rates? Dr. Hinge: Of course they're on the rates. Dame Hilda: Oh, well, we better put an aspirin in the water. Where on earth am I going to put this trowel they gave me? Would you like it in your bedroom? Dr. Hinge: What would I want your trowel for? Dame Hilda: As a souvenir. Dr. Hinge: I've got my plumb line. Dame Hilda: Is that what they gave you? Dr. Hinge: Yes, why? Dame Hilda: I wondered what it was. And what are you going to do with that? Dr. Hinge: Pop it in this drawer for emergencies. Dame Hilda: Oh, that's a good idea. You may as well pop my trowel in with it. Dr. Hinge: Very well, give it here. You know, this is silver plated. Dame Hilda: Yes, they're so clever, aren't they, those south Koreans? I say, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: Mm-hmm. Dame Hilda: Have you seen my library books? Dr. Hinge: I thought you'd taken them back. Dame Hilda: Well, I was going to, but I thought I'd kill two birds with one foundation stone. Ha, ha. And take them back today, but I forgot. I put them on the hall stand with the others. Dr. Hinge: But those were all books about Stackton Tressel. They were taken for inclusion in the time capsule. Dame Hilda: Oh, dear. Dr. Hinge: What is it? Dame Hilda: You don't suppose my library books have been buried in the time capsule? Dr. Hinge: Looks very much like it, doesn't it? Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne. Do you realise I shall be paying fines on that lot for the rest of my life?
Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor |
