Dame Hilda: Travel facilities in Stackton Tressel have always been sparse. The railway station, for example, closed long ago when Jimmy Savile was no more than an away day in his mother's eye. And the advanced passenger train was something we all looked forward to rather than back on. There is a regular bus service. The only trouble is that now they've built the bypass, the bus bypasses us. One can of course stand on the hard shoulder and thumb a lift. Evadne’s had one or two interesting experiences they say. She's been picked up twice by the motorway maintenance men. I think they thought she was a broken lamp standard. However, local travel facilities have taken a turn for the better as I recently discovered.

{Drawing room.}

Dame Hilda: I say, Evadne, have you ever seen a travel agent in the high street?

Dr Hinge: Well, I may have done without knowing it, dear. They don't wear uniforms, do they?

Dame Hilda: Number 31, the High street. Surely that's where Danny Williams' coach hire business is.

Dr Hinge: Are you soliloquising or asking me, Hilda?

Dame Hilda: Well, I'm asking you, Evadne,. But if my language is not precise enough for you, ignore it. I don't want a lot of mouth.

Dr Hinge: Yes, you're right.

Dame Hilda: About what?

Dr Hinge: Number 31, the high street. That is where Danny Williams' coach hire business is.

Dame Hilda: Then he's gone. That's funny. He was definitely there a couple of weeks back. He waved as I went past, he was feeding the horse.

Dr Hinge: What is that you're reading anyway, Hilda?

Dame Hilda: Well, it's from the travel agency that's just opened in the High street at number 31. Advertising material. And they're running a competition. Have you ever been to Gibraltar, dear?

Dr Hinge: No, I haven't.

Dame Hilda: I have.

Dr Hinge:  I know, dear. You have told me.

Dame Hilda: I was there during the war.

Dr Hinge: Yes. Ten days in 1940.

Dame Hilda: I've never really told you the full story though, have I?

Dr Hinge: Well, what you told me didn't sound like an abbreviated version, Hilda. It was on a very long time.

Dame Hilda: Oh, it was heaven, Evadne, I've never seen so many sailors in my life. I’d adore to go back.

Dr Hinge: Haven't you left it a bit late, dear? I mean, the way they've cut the Navy, there can't be many sailors there now. Just a nuclear submarine or two.

Dame Hilda: Well, at least I could get into a nuclear submarine, Evadne, you couldn't. Not without your head sticking up through the conning tower. Oh, I'd love to show you around the rock, dear. The Moorish castles and St Michael's cave, the Trafalgar cemetery.

Dr Hinge: Oh, that sounds jolly.

Dame Hilda: And I bet those Barbary apes would love you. Oh, and you could go trolling for mackerel.

Dr Hinge: Hilda, if ever I decided to go trolling, I'd do it for something a little more interesting than mackerel.

Dame Hilda: We could win two weeks holiday in Gibraltar. If we entered this competition.

Dr Hinge: I wouldn't want to spend two weeks in Gibraltar with you, Hilda, I should feel at too much of a disadvantage. It'd be rather like spending a fortnight in the Greek islands with Homer.

Dame Hilda: Oh, nonsense, you'd love it. All you have to do is imagine that you're in Gibraltar and that you're trying to get someone in England to join you there by sending them a telegram.

Dr Hinge: You can't send telegrams any more, Hilda.

Dame Hilda: I bet you can from Gibraltar, dear. Anyway, it's only a competition. Now, they want a telegram style message that must intrigue, worry, or otherwise cause your friend to fly out to you. And it has to be composed from the initial letters of the word, Gibraltar.

Dr Hinge: No, forget it.

Dame Hilda: Oh, no, no, it's simple, dear, really. I've actually done one already, one of these entries. How about this now? German infantry brigade, that's G.I.B. running amok, R.A. leave town, arrange rescue.

Dr Hinge: Well, isn't it a little late for that German infantry brigade, stuff now?

Dame Hilda: Oh, do you think so? Well, we'll cut the infantry brigade. Let's just say, erm, oh, I know, German in bedroom.

Dr Hinge: Does it have to be a German, dear?

Dame Hilda: Oh, alright then. Gibraltarian, Greek, Guatemalan, I'm easy!

Dr Hinge:  No, no, no. I think you ought to keep off nationalities altogether, dear. I mean, the judges may feel it's got a sort of racial slant to it a trade of some sort. Gas man!

Dame Hilda: I'm not sure they have gas in Gibraltar. No, it's got to be a little more intriguing than that. What about a gondolier?

Dr Hinge: Hilda, they don't have gondoliers in Gibraltar. No canals.

Dame Hilda: Well, he could be there on holiday. I mean, they must take holidays mustn’t they. I mean, their arms must get awfully tired playing about with those great poles of theirs. Yes, that's it. gondolier in bedroom running amok, stop. Leave tonight and rescue. You see, dear, it's the gondolier that's the winning touch. It's so imaginative.

Dr Hinge: Yes, isn't it? And I'm not sure who'd most need rescuing you or the gondolier.

Dame Hilda: Oh, I say, Evadne. Do you remember that lovely old song called the gondolette? The one that I sang for that save the Empire theatre concert at Snitterton the night before it closed.

Dr Hinge: Yes, I do, dear.

Dame Hilda: Be a poppet and see if you can find it for me, will you? I'm sure it's in the piano stool somewhere.

Dr Hinge: I’ll have a look.

Dame Hilda: I was dressed, I remember, in a lilac domino with a black silk mask. And I was pulled across the stage against a backdrop from Götterdämmerung in what past for a gondola, but the wheels were wonky and we wobbled all the way.

Dr Hinge: Yes, and some wag in the gallery shouted, who'd be a sailor on a night like this? And threw his hat at you.

Dame Hilda: He threw it to me, Evadne, not at me. He was from HMS Ajax, and do you know, tucked inside the hat band was a train ticket to Chatham and an invitation to Navy Days at the Dockyard. Oh, happy times.

Dr Hinge:  Well, I can't find the gondolette here, Hilda. What about the fleets in port again?

Dame Hilda: Yes, let's do that. Ship ahoy!

Flags are flying in every street

Bands are playing a stirring beat

Mirth and music are in the air

Joy and happiness everywhere

The fleets in port again

Back home in port again

Yo-ho, yo-ho

Now we’ll have a jolly good time

The boys are back to find

The girls they left behind

Yo-ho, yo-ho

Now we’ll have a jolly good time

Ladies turn out in your thousands

Put on your red, white and blue

All the nice girls love a sailor

There’ll be a sailor for you

The fleets in port again

Back home in port again

Yo-ho, yo-ho

Now we’ll have a jolly good

Really wonderful

Simply marvellous time

Dame Hilda: Well, wasn't that exhilarating? I could almost smell the ozone. I say, Evadne, who's that strange man knocking at the window?

Dr Hinge: Well, I may not be very good at guessing games, dear, But I'd say he was a milkman. I mean, the peaked cap with Stackton dairy on it provides the clue.

Dame Hilda: Well, it's certainly not our milkman. He's not whistling, and he doesn't have cotton wool in his ears. What's he doing at the window?

Dr Hinge: Why don't you ask him, dear?

Dame Hilda: I don't like the look of him. That face is vaguely familiar. I've probably seen it on a wanted poster outside the police station. Who are you?

Milkman: I’m the milkman.

Dr. Hinge: Now I recognise him, Hilda. He was the delivery man from that furniture warehouse. Remember, he delivered that DIY settee that I bought.

Dame Hilda: I knew I disliked him.

Dr Hinge: Well, open the window and see what he wants, dear.

Dame Hilda: Very well, Evadne, but be it on your own head.

Milkman: Do you mind if I come in?

Dame Hilda: Well, what do you want?

Milkman: Money!

Dame Hilda: There, Evadne, I told you, dear. It's a stick up.

Milkman: One pound, fifty-four pence. And I don't want to have the write a ransom note for it.

Dame Hilda: Pay the milk bill, would you, Evadne? I seem to have mislaid my purse.

Dr Hinge: It's all right, Hilda. I found it, here it is!

Dame Hilda: Honestly, who but you would be able to see it on top of the grandfather clock? Now,  my man, if you want your money, hold your hands out.

Milkman: Is the entire sum to be paid in ha’pennies?

Dame Hilda: Our old milkman was perfectly happy to accept anything anyone offered him wasn't he, Evadne?

Dr Hinge: Only two keen, dear.

Milkman: That probably explains why he retired early with a bad back.

Dame Hilda: Incidently. Why have you come to the garden window and not to the front door?

Dame Hilda: I've been knocking at the front door for the past five minutes, and no one has answered.

Dame Hilda: I didn't hear you knocking.

Milkman: Well, I'm not surprised the racket you two was making.

Dame Hilda: Racket? Did you say racket, are you tone deaf? Doctor Hinge and I are an operatic duo.

Milkman: Oh, Do you owe {Duo.} much?

Dame Hilda: Oh, good heavens, that's all we need. A comical milkman. Now, you've had your money, why don't you go?

Milkman: Just one more thing. Have you got a bottle for me.

Dame Hilda: A bottle? It's not Christmas.

Milkman: A milk bottle.

Dame Hilda:  Well, it's up to you to bring those, dear. I mean, if you've forgotten your bottles, you might just as well not have called.

Milkman: An empty milk bottle.

Dame Hilda: Why? What have you brought the milk in, dear, a churn?

Dr Hinge: I do hope you're not travelling with a cow.

Milkman: Look, let's start again, shall we? Stackton dairies, have this week delivered to you seven bottles. To the best of my knowledge, only six have been returned. The question is, where is the seventh?

Dame Hilda: Do I look like the sort of woman who might be concealing an empty milk bottle about her person? Our bottle still has milk in it.

Milkman: How do you expect us to compete with cheap European milk if you will keep pinching our bottles?

Dr Hinge: I knew it would come to this one day, Hilda, if you refuse to use the bottle bank. I'll go and see if I can find it.

Milkman: Here! You don't put our bottles in the bottle bank, I hope.

Dame Hilda: I don't put anything in the bottle bank. I can't reach it. And I can't tell you what she puts in because I'm not tall enough to see. And what happened to the do-it-yourself furniture business then?

Milkman:  The bottom fell out of it.

Dame Hilda: I'm not surprised it fell out of our settee as well.

Milkman: Oh. I'll see you're doing the competition for that travel firm. Like competitions do you?

Dame Hilda: I can take them or leave them.

Milkman: You know, we've got a competition running. I'll give you a leaflet. You can win three pints of milk a day, free for a whole year. You just have to answer one simple question.

Dame Hilda: What's the question?

Milkman: Why do you want three pints a milk a day, free for a year?

Dame Hilda: I don’t.

Milkman: Well, there you are then. That's your answer, isn't it, mind you? You're not likely to win with that.

Dr Hinge: Voila!

Dame Hilda: Oh, Evadne, you've got it.

Dr Hinge: Yes. There you are then. One milk bottle. And would you like me to gift wrap it for you?

Milkman: No, no, no. That’ll do lovely. Well, I'll see you next week then. Same time, same place. And don't forget, a milkman is not just a milkman. To some people, he is the nearest they get to a friend.  Good day.

Dame Hilda:  What an awful man. I bet he won't do double cream at Christmas.

Dr Hinge: Well, now we know what day and time he's going to be coming for his money each week. We can make sure Maud is here to meet him.

Maud: And the next time I sticks a note in my bottle, read it you lazy lummox!

Milkman: I tried to read it, didn’t I? but I couldn't crack the code.

Dame Hilda: She's just met him by the sound of it.

Maud: And I warn you, next time I get pineapple yogurt instead o’ thin pork sausages, you'll go back to that dairy of yours with a bit o’ wind up yer shirt.

Dame Hilda: We're in here, Maud dear, come in and simmer down.

Maud: Oh, what a morning, I'm ever so sorry I'm so late, Dame ‘ilda, but I've been ‘olding Mr. Larkin's lollipop.

Dame Hilda: Well, I hope you've washed your hands, dear. We don't want sticky finger marks all over the furniture.

Dr Hinge: I presume, Maud, that you mean old Mr. Larkin's who looks after the school crossing?

Maud: Well, I certainly don't mean young Mr. Larkin's the bank manager, Doctor.

Dame Hilda: Why were you holding Mr. Larkin's lollipop Maud? Where was Mr. Larkin's?

Maud: ‘e were in the window o’ the men's wear shop, rolling about with a lorry driver.

Dr Hinge: He was always a bit of an exhibitionist. That's why he became a druid.

Dame Hilda: The things they have to do these days to supplement their incomes.

Maud: Oh, ‘e weren't supplementing ‘is income Dame ‘ilda, ‘e were ‘aving an ‘igh old time. See, as I were going to the bus stop to come ‘ere, I sees old Mr. Larkin's standing at ‘is crossing, and ‘e's shivering and ‘e's shaking and ‘is eyes is streaming. And I could see as ‘e ‘ad the flu. You've got the flu, says I. Mind your own business, says ‘e. Give us your lollipop and get off ‘ome, says I. I’ll do no such thing, says ‘e. Slipping ‘is lollipop behind ‘is back. So I gives ‘im a shove and I grabs it.

Dr Hinge: Doesn't she have a marvellous way with the sick?

Maud: Let go, says ‘e. I’ll, not, says I. And ‘e shoves me right out in the road. And we's out there toing and froing this lollipop like lumberjacks sawing a tree. When round the corner this lorry comes.

Dame Hilda: Oh, no!

Maud: Oh, yes. Well, this lorry's on the left, so ‘e steps to the right, but ‘e veers to the right. So ‘e runs to the left, and then ‘e swings to the left, so ‘e jumps to the right. And that's when the lorry ‘it the post. Well,  I never ‘eard children laugh like that. It did your ‘eart good to ear ‘em!

Dame Hilda: I bet it sent a nice warm feeling through the lorry driver as well.

Maud: Not ‘im ‘e were a right old misery. And ‘e was shaking ‘is fist through the hole in ‘is windscreen.

Dame Hilda: Oh, some people are so transparent, aren't they?

Maud: Well, ‘e were ‘alfway out of his cab when Larkins grabs ‘is lollipop back offa me. And I'll never know ‘ow ‘e did it, but that lollipop ‘it that driver and it ‘it ‘im where it ‘urt. ‘cos ‘e gives a yell, and ‘e jumps on Larkens. Well’ the lorry driver picks ‘im up just like ‘e would ‘ave a babby and chucks ‘im right through the window of the menswear shop. And then ‘e goes after ‘im.

Dame Hilda: Oh, they’re not people to be messed about with those lorry drivers, dear. You can tell that by the way they over take!

Maud: Mind its an ill wind, Dame ‘ilda. As I says to Larkens, you've got a lot to thank me for, Mr. Larkins. That little bit of exercise ‘as completely cured your cold.

Dr Hinge:  Ever the good Samaritan Maud.

Maud: Well, I best begin to catch up on me work, I suppose.

Dame Hilda: Oh, Maud do me a favour, dear, will you? When you leave, pop this letter in the post.

Maud: Oh, I'll do it now, Dame ‘ilda, while I've still got me ‘at on. Oh. So you're entering that competition, are yer? I've entered that.

Dame Hilda: Have you, dear? Oh, I say, Evadne, wouldn't it be lovely if we all won?

Dr Hinge: Quite frankly, Hilda, I can think of nothing worse than two weeks in Gibraltar with you and your gondolier and Maud. I'd sooner go on a raccoon hunt.

Dame Hilda: Well, I'd never been very successful with competitions before. In fact, about all I'd ever won was a card of sail-makers needles. And that was a consolation prize. The first prize was a yacht. So, you can imagine my surprise when I heard that I had actually won two weeks holiday in Gibraltar for us both. Well, it wasn't long before I was methodically checking my list of things we would need to take with us.

{Drawing room.}

Dame Hilda: Gloves, handkerchiefs, hangers, hairbrush, hairpins, hats, hot water bottle, identity cards.

Dr Hinge: What?

Dame Hilda: Oh, no, it's all right, I'll ignore it. I'll cross off ration books as well. You know, this list is so old, it hasn't even got my camera on it. And I promised Maud faithfully I'd bring back lots of photographs. She was so disappointed that she didn't win, because she'd love to go.

Dr Hinge: Well, if you feel that sorry for her, why didn't you give her ours? I'd be quite happy to sacrifice. And a fortnight without Maud would be a holiday in itself.

Dame Hilda: Well, I thought of that, Evadne, but I don't think Gibraltar's awfully suitable for Maud. She's so prone to nosebleeds. Oh, to think that this time next week we shall be sitting on a sun trap roof terrace. The air heavy with the scent of hibiscus, sipping something long and cooling. I wonder if Pedro is still there.

Dr Hinge: The fisherman?

Dame Hilda: No, no, he ran a little bar in the main street. It was out of bounds to the Navy, but it was always full of sailors. Well, you know how very sensible the English are about rules, especially sailors. Mind, I dare say Pedro's dead now, if he isn't he'll be about 113.

Dr Hinge: Well, I'll talk about resurrecting old friendships.

Dame Hilda: Well, he was 70 then, you know. And he used to dance on the tables. And if you wanted a glass, you had to get on the table and get your own. Oh, we had such fun.

Dr Hinge: You know, Hilda, I would do almost anything to get out of this trip. A la recherche du temps perdu!

Dame Hilda: Well, French isn't going to get you any where in Gibraltar, dear. I say, Evadne, It's that blessed milkman again at the windows. Why, after all these weeks, is he still not going to the front door.

Dr Hinge:  Because every time he goes there, Maud, has him. He swears we keep her just to frighten off intruders.

Dame Hilda: Well, you've got my purse, I suppose.

Dr Hinge:  No, dear, I haven't. Anyway, it's my turn to pay him. I'll let him in.

Milkman: Morning, ladies.

Dr Hinge: One pound, 54 pence and one empty bottle. That's your lot. Good morning.

Dame Hilda: No, Evadne, no, no, wait, dear. You haven't told him that we'll not been requiring any milk for two weeks from the 15th.

Dr Hinge: Did you hear that?

Milkman: I heard that. From the 15th, I'll tell him.

Dame Hilda: You'll tell who?

Milkman: My relief. I'm off on two weeks holiday on the 15th. Going to Gibraltar?

Dr Hinge: You are?

Milkman: Well, even Spanish have no special objection to milkmen, you know.

Dame Hilda: But we're going to be out there those very same two weeks.

Milkman:  And you was promised a place to yourself, was you?

Dame Hilda: Well, it's not that. I was merely remarking on the coincidence.

Dr Hinge: Might I ask why you decided to go to Gibraltar at that particular time. It's smacks of Spite!

Milkman: Well, it's the best time to be there innit? Anyway, I know, Gib, like the back of my hand.

Dame Hilda: So, do I.

Dr Hinge: I pass.

Milkman: Mind you? I've not been there since I was in the Navy in 1952.

Dame Hilda:  I've not been there since I was with the Navy in 19 err…. whenever it was.

Milkman:  It's an old Navy oppo, I'm going with, you know, big Barry. Cor, he was a chief petty officer on HMS Ajax. He's a barrel ‘o laughs is old Barry. Wahey! He’s got no inhibitions, you know. I mean, hey, hey. He'd do anything for the laugh. Well, I mean, It's what's on holidays all about, ain't it?

Dame Hilda:  Oh, yes, I do so agree. Don't you agree, Evadne?

Dr Hinge: No.

Milkman: ‘ere, did you know Pedro's?

Dame Hilda: Did I know Pedro's?

Dr Hinge:  Did she know Pedro’s?

Milkman:  Well, listen, Barry knows Pedro's. We all know Pedro's. Soon as we get there, we're going to winkle you out. What? Paint the rock red! First stop, Pedro's. Gibs a small place, we'll find you, you two will have the holiday of a lifetime with me and big Barry. Oh, you want to see him, limbo dancing? What? Big fella like him, what? Six foot two. He's got shoulders like an ox, yet he can limbo, the length of a long dining table with a pint of beer on top of his head. Come closing time in the tartan bar, it's was always big Barry who was starkers on top of the table, singing this old hat of mine.

Dr Hinge: Well, that settles it, Hilda. I am definitely not going. I simply couldn't face it.

Dame Hilda: But it's all arranged, dear. You've got an aeroplane ticket and a hotel room.

Dr Hinge: And I'll tell you what I'm going to do with them, Hilda.

Dame Hilda: Yes?

Dr Hinge: I'm going to give them to Maud. By the sound of it, Maud and big Barry deserve each other.

Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor