Dame Hilda: I know that charity is supposed to begin at home, but it's never easy getting it to begin at the old manse. This is because of Evadne. She's about as charitable as a piranha fish in a prawn cocktail. I’ve even known that woman haggle in the Oxfam shop. They had a green boiler suit and a matching pair of steel toed boots that she had fancied, but they were asking 75 pence for them and she wasn't prepared to pay more than 50 pence. It was getting so embarrassing that I had to give her the difference in the end. Still, it did solve her Christmas present problem. However, a great deal of charitable work is done in Stackton. It's controlled by a tiny group of people that we call the Stackton mafia. It's they who decide what's to be done and then they see that the rest of us go out and do it. As we were reminded one morning last November, it was shortly after breakfast and we were sitting in the drawing room having a second cup of tea.

{Drawing room.}

Dame Hilda: Well, I must say, Evadne, that marmalade of Lorna Dyrenforths that we bought at the bring and buy is a great improvement on her usual stuff. Do you think she’s started going to classes?

Dr. Hinge: I don't know. But when I opened the jar, there was a paper gollywog on top.

Dame Hilda: I meant cookery classes, dear, not origami.

Dr. Hinge: I don't think that marmalade is hers, Hilda.

Dame Hilda: Really? Then who’s do you think it was? Certainly, isn't Maud’s, because she doesn't take the pips out.

Dr. Hinge: The pips? Last time she didn't even take the oranges out of their net? No, I think Lorna bought that.

Dame Hilda: Bought it? Oh, Evadne, you don't. That means she must have steamed the label off. Surely she'd never stoop that low. There are rural deans in her family.

Dr. Hinge: Well, I suppose she might have come across a jar without a label and decided to risk it.

Dame Hilda: Yes, yes, she'd probably stoop that low.

Dr. Hinge: I'll tell you one thing, Hilda. If they ever held a stooping match in Stackton, Lorna Dyrenforth would win it.

Dame Hilda: Now, that is unfair, Evadne. You make her sound round shouldered. Mind, I think she is getting a bit that way, you know. I noticed it when we were decorating the church for the harvest festival the other week, she could hardly reach the top of her cornucopia.

Dr. Hinge: Well, her cornucopia gets bigger every year, she'll be needing a ladder before long.

Dame Hilda: Poor old Lorna, we are being naughty about her, aren't we? I wonder if her ears are burning.

[Phone rings.}

Dame Hilda: Oh, it's all right, Evadne. I'll get it, dear. Hello! Stackton 295. Oh, Lorna! Well, darling, we were just talking about you…. No, no, saying what a clever little thing you are.

Dr. Hinge: No cunning, Hilda. Not clever. 

Dame Hilda: Shh, Evadne, what, dear?... Your marmalade, yes, we brought some at the bring and buy. It is gorgeous.

Dr. Hinge: Tell her we found the gollywog. Hilda.

Dame Hilda: Evadne, she’ll hear you…. Oh, absolutely delicious, dear, not at all like homemade, really professional. You wouldn't believe it, you know, Evadne, the silly woman’s taking it all in, she's absolutely lapping it up.

Dr. Hinge: Well, tell her we found the gollywog.

Dame Hilda: Well, I would if I could think of a suitably subtle way of doing it. Oh, sorry, Lorna... No, just clearing my throat dear.... What was that? No, Evadne was nattering away in the background as usual something about a gollywog. How was that, Evadne?

Dr. Hinge: No, too subtle by half, dear.

Dame Hilda: Well, certainly, Lorna. I'm sure she'd be only too pleased to make one for you for the Christmas bazaar.

Dr. Hinge: What did I tell you? You see, subtlety's wasted on that woman, you need a coal hammer, really.

Dame Hilda: What, Lorna? Let you down, dear.... Oh, isn't it so irritating when they do that? Mm-hmm. Well, of course, dear. Yes. Mm-hmm... Well, we'd be only too happy to. Oh, how very kind of you to say so. Mm-hmm. Well, that would be lovely... Yes, lovely. Well, bye-bye for now, then. yes, I will. Bye-bye, Lorna. Bye-bye. That was Lorna, dear, she sends her love to you.

Dr. Hinge: I know it was Lorna, dear, and what does she want?

Dame Hilda: She wants us to go around and have sherry with her one evening.

Dr. Hinge: Why?

Dame Hilda: Because she hasn't seen us for some time.

Dr. Hinge: Well, of course she hasn't. We've been avoiding her.

Dame Hilda: Yes. She doesn't know that. does she?

Dr. Hinge: Well, she should by now. We always avoid her at this time of year. You know, I've estimated between harvest festival and Christmas, there are no fewer than 31 separate events she might attempt to rope us into if we didn't?

Dame Hilda: Well, your chief concern is already over, dear, they've got a guy for bonfire night.

Dr. Hinge: Ha ha ha! Very funny. Anyway, how do you know?

Dame Hilda: Because I gave them some old clothes for it. Apparently, it's quite difficult getting hold of really shabby clothes these days. So I gave them that old hat and coat of yours, you know the ones that Oxfam wouldn't take.

Dr. Hinge: I do wish you wouldn't keep giving my clothes away. I shall have absolutely nothing to wear.

Dame Hilda: Well, if you're getting that low, dear, you've still got a day or two to retrieve your dress off the bonfire.

Dr. Hinge: Anyway, you needn't think you're dragging me round to Lorna's for sherry. I know that old ploy. She doesn't even offer you a second glass until you've agreed to do something for her.

Dame Hilda: She's changed her tactics a bit this year, though.

Dr. Hinge: What do you mean?

Dame Hilda: I've already agreed to do something for her.

Dr. Hinge: Well, then you've scuttled yourself, haven't you? That'll be the last you'll hear about going around for sherry unless, of course, she wants something else.

Dame Hilda: Oh, you can be so uncharitable, Evadne. If it wasn't for me, you'd have a very bad reputation in Stackton.

Dr. Hinge: What exactly do you do to help?

Dame Hilda: Well, I involve you in little acts of charity, like going around selling poppies for poppy day.

Dr. Hinge: I've never sold poppies for poppy day.

Dame Hilda: No, but you're going to this year.  I've just told Lorna you are. She's been let down, you see, by one of her helpers. And I said, we'd step into the breach, so now you know why she's sent her love to you.

Dr. Hinge: Well, I've no innate objection to selling poppies.

Dame Hilda:  No, I knew you wouldn't have. You're not half such an old stinker as you like to make out.

Dr. Hinge: But I'm blowed if I'm going out selling them for Lorna.

Dame Hilda: You won't be doing it for Lorna, dear. You'll be doing it for me.

Dr. Hinge: One more reason for not doing it.

Dame Hilda: Oh, very well, Evadne, if you’re determined to be a stinker, but I shall have to get someone to come out with me. I'm not going tramping the streets on dark, misty November evenings all on my own.

Dr. Hinge: Why don't you get Lorna to go with you? It'll be a new experience for her to do some of the leg work for a change.

Dame Hilda: Evadne, the reason that Lorna doesn't do the actual collecting herself is that people won't give her money. I don't know why, it must be something to do with her face and manner. So I shall just have to find somebody else. Somebody who's willing to put themselves out a bit and to give up a little time, to brave the autumnal mists, to be supportive of a friend and a little charitable toward their fellow men and women and things like that.

Dr. Hinge: All right, Hilda, all right. That's quite enough of the Tod Slaughter. I know when I'm beaten, I'll come. But I demand one little privilege.

Dame Hilda: What's that?

Dr. Hinge: I want to rattle the tin.

Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, I want to do that? You pop the poppy in their button hole.

Dr. Hinge: I want to rattle the tin.

Dame Hilda:  I'll tell you what, then. We'll take it in terms at one house you pop and I’ll rattle and at the next you rattle and I’ll pop, how’s that.

Dr. Hinge: Sounds like rather a noisy affair, all round. But I warn you, the first time you show the slightest reluctance to hand over the tin, I am peeling off and coming home.

Dame Hilda: Well, what do you want us to do, then? make a blood pact.

Dr. Hinge: I just want you to keep your word, Hilda, that's all.

Dame Hilda:  Evadne, have you ever known me to break it?

Dr. Hinge: Yes.

Dame Hilda: Oh, I do dislike people who hold grudges. And now, perhaps, do you think we might run through our song for the charity concert that the Lady Mayoress roped us into?

Dr. Hinge: Oh, you know, she's another one we're going to have to stop talking to at this time of year.

Dame Hilda:  If you had your way, this would be a quiet time of year, wouldn't it? Now, which of those songs from the Quaker girl are we going to do?

Dr. Hinge: Well, I think I prefer the Little grey bonnet.

Dame Hilda: I think I prefer Tony from America.

Dr. Hinge: Why don't we do both?

Dame Hilda: Good idea. They're bound to want an encore.

Dr. Hinge: Even if they don't, they'll get one.

Dame Hilda: Very true. After all, we are giving our services free, so we've got the whip hand. Let's try Tony first.

Dr. Hinge: Very well. Ready when you are.

Dame Hilda: Right, dear, then take it away, but do remember to bring it back.

All long the garden where the moonbeams glance

Music echos loud and clear

Girls have got their partners for the joyous dance

But the one I wants not here

There are partners made in Germany

And gentlemen of France.

There are boys who come from England

But they haven’t got a chance

With Tony from America over the sea

He guessed I was all alone

So that’s why he came along and found me

Over in America someday we’ll be

With a cottage we have rented

We’ll be quite contented

Tony and me

Dame Hilda: Well, I should think that alone will be worth the price of admission to the Mayoresses charity concert.

Dr. Hinge: Well, it should be. The ticket's are only 20p.

Dame Hilda: 20p? Oh, well, I’ve a good mind not to go.

Dr. Hinge: No, it's all right. Only joking, Hilda. They’re 50p, actually. That of course does include tea and biscuits.

Dame Hilda: Well, I suppose it is for charity. I wonder how much they'll lose this year. Oh, that’ll be Maud. Now, Evadne, dear, Even though we'll be collecting ourselves this year, I still think we should buy our poppies from Maud as usual. You know how important it is to her to collect more money than anybody else.

Dr. Hinge: Very well, though I consider it quite wrong that people should do these things for their own glory.

Dame Hilda: Well, if the Royal British legion doesn't mind, I don't see why you should. And they're very happy with Maud, you know, because if they weren't, they wouldn't have presented her with one of their special poppy broaches last year, now, would they?

Dr. Hinge: They probably had a load left over.

Dame Hilda: You get worse, you really do.

Maud: Good morning, Dame ‘ilda. Doctor.

Dame Hilda: Morning, Maud, dear.

Dr. Hinge: Morning, Maud.

Dame Hilda: Incidentally, Maud, the Doctor and I were just talking about buying our poppies, dear. Now, you won't forget, will you, to bring us our two and a nice big one for the car bonnet, will you?

Maud: Mm, ‘tain’t no good asking me Dame ‘ilda. I ain't poppying this year.

Dame Hilda: Not poppying, dear?

Maud: I give it up.

Dame Hilda: Oh, Maud, you haven’t? You've always so enjoyed your poppying, I mean, you've poppied every year for as long as we've been in Stackton in the early fifties.

Maud: Well, I ain't poppying no more. It were getting too much. I reckon I'd ‘ave ‘ad to give up years ago ‘ad I'd been born with anyone's feet but me own. As I sez to that Lorna Dyrenforth, just last evening, you should think yourself jolly lucky, madam, I sez, that you've ‘ad my feet to lean on all these years.

Dr. Hinge: Well, not everyone's got feet like yours, Maud. If they did have, there wouldn't be room for us all to stand up.

Dame Hilda: Oh, dear, Maud, this must be rather a sad day for you then. They'll certainly miss you, I know that. And you say you told Lorna last night.

Maud: I did,

Dame Hilda: Which explains why she telephoned me this morning.

Maud:  Oh, she did, did she? I thought she might. Wanted you to talk me into changing me mind for ‘er did she? Uh, well, you’ll not. And that's nothin' against you, Dame ‘ilda, cause I know you could charm a Scotsman out of ‘is kilt.

Dame Hilda: Thank you, dear. I shall take that as a compliment.

Dr. Hinge: I'm not so sure you should, Hilda.

Maud: But that Lorna Dyrenforth ‘as got to learn to do ‘er own dirty work, and not to keep spreading it over other people's shoulders. I'll ‘ave ‘er down on ‘er bended knees to me by the time I've finished, you see if I don't. She'll be begging me to go back. As I sez to ‘er last night, we all know as no one's indispensable, madam, I sez, but there's some as you just can't do without. And when you comes to tot up the ‘ours I spend, and the miles I tramp each year poppying you begin to realise you're never gonna find another mug like me.

Dr. Hinge: Shouldn't you tell her, Hilda?

Dame Hilda: Tell her what, dear?

Dr. Hinge: Shouldn't you tell her that Lorna has already found another mug?

Dame Hilda: Evadne, we're in this together, dear. Lorna's found two mugs.

Maud: Oh, Dame ‘ilda, you've done something ‘urtful, ‘aven't you?

Dame Hilda: Well, I haven't actually done anything yet, dear. But I have to admit that I've told Lorna I'm going to.

Maud: Oh, Dame ‘ilda, ‘ow, could you? You of all people to go stabbing me in the back.

Dr. Hinge: Et tu, Hilda.

Dame Hilda:  Be quiet, Evadne, It's no joking matter. Now, Maud, I thought you said you didn't want to do it any more.

Maud: I want to do it, Dame ‘ilda. I've always loved doing it. But I'll spite myself sooner than be took for granted.

Dr. Hinge: What about those poor old feet of yours, then, Maud?

Maud: There's nothing wrong with my feet, Doctor. I bet they could walk yours under the table any day.

Dame Hilda: Now, Maud, do try to keep calm, dear. We're not going to solve anything by filling our table with feet. Now, there must surely be something we can do about this, mustn't there, Evadne?

Dr. Hinge: Don't ask me. You've got us into this, you can jolly well get us out.

Maud: I suppose that Lorna Dyrenforth’s give you the tickets to the Albert ‘all an’all, Dame ‘ilda.

Dame Hilda: Tickets to the Albert Hall? I don't know anything whatever about tickets to the Albert Hall.

Maud: Then who’s got their thieving ‘ands on them, I wonder. I should ‘ave ‘em by rights. I'm champion collector. ‘ave been these five years past. But every time that lot on the committee gets offered a pair of tickets to the Albert ‘all, they snaffles ‘em themselves.

Dr. Hinge: I think I begin to see what this is all about, Hilda. Now Maud, let me just get this quite clear. You would like to sell poppies again this year, but you refuse to do so unless you get those tickets. Is that right?

Maud: Oh, it most certainly is not, Doctor, I ain't one for ‘olding folk to ransom. You understand that, don't you, Dame ‘ilda?

Dame Hilda: Yes, of course I do. What you're saying is that there is no question of a quid pro quo. However, you would be prepared to listen sympathetically to a suitably worded plea for you to resume your duties. And you would never be so ungracious as to refuse the offer of two tickets to the festival of remembrance at the Albert Hall should such an offer be made.

Maud: That's exactly it, Dame ‘ilda

Dame Hilda: And the tickets being accepted as one small recognition of services rendered rather than as an inducement you to continue rendering them.

Dame Hilda: I couldn't ‘ave said it better meself.

Dr. Hinge: Nor could ACAS!

Dame Hilda: Well, I tell you what, Maud, why don't you go and make us all a nice cup of coffee? And while you're doing it, the Doctor and I will see what we can do.

Maud: Oh, thank you, Dame ‘ilda. Thank you, Doctor. I'll not be long.

Dr. Hinge: And what exactly do you propose to do now, then, Hilda?

Dame Hilda: I'm going to ring Lorna, dear. I know how to handle her. You'll see with just a modicum of tact and a little bit of give and take, this whole affair can be very easily resolved, you'll see.

Dr. Hinge: I can't wait.

Dame Hilda:  Hello? Lorna. Yes, hello, it's Hilda, dear….. No, I just wanted to ask a little favour dear…. Well, I wondered if you would have a little word with Maud for me as she’s awfully upset. But a little quiet word from you and I'm sure she'd be only too happy to go on selling poppies again…. What do you mean over your dead body?... Oh, I know she can be a little trying, dear,…. Yes, yes, and rude…. Well, all right, very rude…. Lorna, I know exactly how rude and trying she can be. The point is her heart is in the right place and she deserves rather more sympathetic treatment than she appears to have been receiving. So I'd like you as a favour to me to ask her back... Lorna, if you say over my dead body once more... all right then please yourself and Lorna, I must say it doesn't surprise me. I reckon that a woman who'd steam the label off a jar of marmalade and snaffle tickets to the Albert Hall must be capable of almost anything….. Well, you just work it out for yourself dear.

Dr. Hinge: Well, you certainly appear to have her wrapped round your little finger, Hilda.

Dame Hilda: Honestly, that woman is impossible. It's like talking to a stuffed parrot. All she says is, over my dead body! over my dead body!

P&D: Cooee!

Dr. Hinge: Oh no, look who's at the garden door.

P&D: It’s only us.

Dame Hilda: Good heavens, it's Peter and Mandy Moore.

Dr. Hinge: Just look at them. The thinking man's bisto kids.

Dame Hilda:  And I say, they've got collecting tins and trays of poppies. Surely, even Lorna can't have replaced us that quickly.

Dr. Hinge: I suppose I shall have to let them in.

Dame Hilda: Yes.

Mandy: We come bearing poppy trays, poppies and pins.

Peter: And tin cans with slots in that dangle from strings.

Mandy: Hello!

Peter: Hello.

Dr. Hinge: Hello!

Dame Hilda: Good morning, my dears. Do come in, I must say I loved your little verse.

Mandy: P suddenly came out with it over breakfast, didn't you P?

Peter: I didn't suddenly come out with it. I had to work on it.

Mandy: He wrote the whole thing on a puffed wheat packet, he's ever so clever at that sort of thing.

Peter: Oh no, fairs, fair D, credit where it's due. Lights under bushels and all that sort of thing. You did have a hand in it yourself, dangle was your idea. I had suspended, suspended from strings.

Mandy: No, P, that was later. Originally you had droop, drooping from strings.

Peter: Well, whatever I had, I know it didn't feel right and then you came up with dangle.

Dame Hilda: No, creative work’s never easy is it Evadne?

Dr. Hinge: Especially at that exalted level, dear.

Peter: Anyway, Dame Hilda, these trays of poppies and these collecting tins are for you and the Doctor. Lorna Dyrenforth asked us to run them round.

Dame Hilda: All those? I say, she is expecting us to do well isn’t she?

Dr. Hinge: I'm surprised she didn't include a pair of pistols so we could shout stand and deliver.

Mandy: We think it's jolly sporting of you both to step in at the last minute like this, don’t we P?

Peter: Oh we do, D, that we do, yes.

Dame Hilda: Well, to tell you the truth, dear, I rather think I may have just stepped out again.

Dr. Hinge: Well, I never stepped in anyway. I was dragged.

Mandy: No. Well, I do hope there's not going to be another upset. Lorna's absolutely furious about Maud letting her down, isn't she P?

Peter: Livid, absolutely livid, spitting feathers.

Dr. Hinge: Funny, Hilda, I've never thought of Lorna as being in the least bird-like. And yet you have her behaving like a stuffed parrot and he has her spitting feathers.

Dame Hilda: Don't be flippant, Evadne, and any way, Lorna's very bird-like, she walks like a kiwi. You see the truth is my dears that Maud feels she's been put upon. She's worked so hard all these years and quite rightly feels entitled to a few words of thanks and a pair of tickets to the festival of remembrance. Now, I admit she went about securing these small tokens of appreciation in quite the wrong way, she resigned.

Mandy: Ah! So she did let Lorna down then.

Dame Hilda: No, dear, she did not. Lorna let her down, she accepted Maud's resignation.

Mandy: Ah! I’d say it sounds rather like six of one and half a dozen of the other, then, doesn't it P?

Peter: Does it, D. I'm afraid I haven't been counting. I've been wondering what we do with that car load of poppies we're supposed to be distributing if all the other collectors who are friends of Maud's decide not to collect in sympathy

Dr. Hinge: And in Stackton and that is a very real possibility, Mr. Moore. Many an old score is settled in the run up to Armistice Day.

Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, don't be so bitter. Living with you is like living with a mouthful of lemons. And talking of lemons, perhaps I should have a word with the Lady Mayoress. After all, we're doing her concert for her, so she owes us a favour. Well, me, anyway, perhaps she’d have a word with Lorna. You know how Lorna kowtows to her.

Mandy: Actually, Dame Hilda, it's the Lady Mayoress that Lorna's given those tickets to, isn't it, P?

Peter: Well, it is, D. Yes, but I'm not at all sure you should have said so. After all, we overheard that in confidence.

Mandy: No, we didn't. We over heard it quite openly. Any of those people who were having tea in the Willow Plate Tea room could have overheard that, if they’d bothered to listen.

Peter: Well, yes, but they weren't listening, were they? They were far too busy talking, very loudly. If you'd not shushed that couple at the next table, we'd not have overheard it either.

Dr. Hinge: If you'd lived in Stackton longer, you would realise that at the Willow Plate, there are talking tables and listening tables. And there is also one just beside the kitchen door where the waitress will actually serve you.

Mandy: Oh, how interesting.

Peter: Well, we'll be off then. Leave that lot with you.

Dr. Hinge: Very well.

Dame Hilda: Thank you. Bye-bye.

Dr. Hinge: Bye-bye.

Dame Hilda: I say, Evadne, the Lady Mayoress is a magistrate, isn't she?

Dr. Hinge: Well, yes, of course she is, Hilda.

Dame Hilda: And it occurs to me that Lorna will be coming up soon on that driving charge. Remember?

Dr. Hinge: Yes.

Dame Hilda: Going through the red light, backwards, 50 miles an hour.

Dr. Hinge: Well, so what?

Dame Hilda: Well, I suppose her little gift to the Lady Mayoress could be misconstrued. Pass me a sheet of writing paper, would you, dear?

Dr. Hinge: Very well?

Dame Hilda: Oh, and a pen, Evadne, please.

Dr. Hinge: There you are then. What are you going to do?

Dame Hilda: You’ll see. now then how shall I start, dear Lorna, no, my dear Lorna, no, I might as well go the whole hog, my dearest Lorna.

Dr. Hinge: Hilda, what on earth are you doing?

Dame Hilda: Well it’s obvious isn't it? I'm writing what I suppose you'd call a blackmail letter.

Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor