A Law Unto Herself. Dame Hilda: I do hope that what I am about to say won't sound egotistical, but I have always been very happy being me. Evadne, has never been very happy being her, but that's hardly surprising is it, poor dear. No, as far as being me is concerned, I've only one tiny drawback. I suppose it's something that happens to anyone who is fluffy and feminine and a bit skittish and fun to be with. And that is, that people tend to assume that one is shallow. Well, I'm not shallow, I'm really quite deep, I can play a scrabble. So I do get rather tired of Evadne, constantly insinuating that I'm capable of nothing more serious than tiddlywinks. But of course, life isn't all games, as the philosopher said, which takes me back to the morning of yet another day on which Evadne's mother was staying with us. It all began in the drawing room.{Drawing room.} Dame Hilda: Evadne, aren't you going to pop upstairs and see if your mother would like another cup of tea, dear? Dr. Hinge: No, I'm not. If she wants another cup of tea, she can jolly well come down and get it herself. Dame Hilda: Well, aren't you going to pop up and bring her breakfast tray down then? Dr. Hinge: No, I'm not. She can bring it down with her when she comes, I don't approve of her lazing about in bed all day. Dame Hilda: Well, it is only nine o'clock, dear. And she didn't go to bed till four, but of course you wouldn't know that. You grabbed your mug of cocoa and plodded off up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire before we'd finished the first bottle of gin. Dame Hilda: Oh, were we still on that? Oh, well, you must have gone up even earlier than I thought. Dr. Hinge: It’s a wonder the two you haven’t got monumental hangovers. Dame Hilda: Oh, don't be so silly, dear. We didn't have enough to drown a fly. We were only finishing up the odds and ends and talking about you. Dr. Hinge: What were you saying about me? Dame Hilda: We were just saying what a miserable old stick in the mud you were going to bed. It's not even as if it makes you brighter and more cheerful in the morning. Your mother and I do the drinking and you get up looking as if you've got the hangover. Now, what are you going to do, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: I'm just going to sit here. Have you any objection? Dame Hilda: Yes, I have. I'd sooner you went and sat somewhere else. I want to open my mail, you see. And I do hate doing it with you looking on, especially when you've got that deprived look on your face. Didn't you get any mail this morning? Dame Hilda: Well, perhaps if you were more pleasant to people, they'd write to you more often. Dame Hilda: And what about this one in the buff envelope then? Does that look like twaddle? Dr. Hinge: No. That doesn't look like yours at all. Dame Hilda: Well, it's got my name on it there. You see? Dame Hilda Bracket. That's not you, is it? That's me, that's the pretty one. Dr. Hinge: There you are, typical of you. When normal, rational, thinking people receive a communication in a buff envelope, they tear it open with trembling hands and ashen faces, knowing full well that it bodes ill. It's either a bill, a summons, or their call up papers. Dame Hilda: Go on then? What's the moral? Dr. Hinge: Well, you treat even that as if it's twaddle, don't you? Dame Hilda: I most certainly do not. Mind, if it's my call up papers it is twaddle. So let's see, shall we? Shall we see what’s in here. Now, watch my face, Evadne. Dame Hilda: Watch it, turn ashen. See my hands, they're trembling. Dr. Hinge: It's probably DTs. Dame Hilda: I do wish you'd treat this seriously like normal people do. Dr. Hinge: Well, what is it? Dame Hilda: Well, give me a chance to read it, I might find out. Oh, oh, Evadne? They want me to be on a jury. Dr. Hinge: A jury, judging what? Carnival floats, knobbly knees, glamorous grannies? Or the water works queen of Stackton? Dame Hilda: That sounds rather more like your line, dear. They say you were wonderfully astute, selecting Miss dumper truck, 1979. No, what they want me for is a proper jury, at the Crown court. Dame Hilda: And since when is your name been Hilda Bracket, DBE? Dr. Hinge: Oh, do be reasonable, Hilda. No one in their right mind, would ever dream of putting you on a jury at the Crown court. I mean, how could your butterfly mind be capable of deciding whether a person was guilty or not guilty? Dame Hilda: There are several well proven methods of recognising the criminal element, Evadne, and I am cognisant with most of them. For a start, are the eyes too close together? Are the ears too big or pointy? Is the forehead too high? Dr. Hinge: I always thought a high forehead was a sign of intellectuality. Dame Hilda: Yes, you could be right. Is the forehead too low? And do the eyebrows meet in the middle? Dr. Hinge: Who are you expecting in the dock? Wolfman. Dame Hilda: I was joking, dear. Whatever you may think, I am perfectly capable of listening to the evidence. Dr. Hinge: That will be the day. When have you ever listened to what someone else was saying? Dr. Hinge: Well, hopefully one in which is the defendant pleads guilty before you get a chance to confuse everyone. Dame Hilda: I hope I get a crime passional, I'd be very sympathetic towards the accused in a crime of passion. Dame Hilda: Oh, and that's another thing. What am I going to wear? Maureen: Cooee! girls, mother's down! Where's everybody hiding? Dr. Hinge: You know, for two pins, I wouldn't tell her. Maureen: Ah, so there you are. Good morning, Hilda. Dame Hilda: Good morning, Maureen, dear. Maureen: If I waited for an invitation from you my girl, you'd never see me. Dr. Hinge: You could send a photograph, couldn't you? At least I wouldn't have to wait hand and foot on a photograph. Maureen: I doubt you'd even bother to polish the frame. Dr. Hinge: What makes you think I put you in a frame? Maureen: I don't, not unless I sent you that as well. Dame Hilda: You know, if you two weren't family, I'd think you didn't get along. How on earth did you ever manage to have a daughter like Evadne, Maureen:? Maureen: To tell the truth, Hilda, I sometimes wonder that myself. Did I not know better I'd be tempted to suppose that she must have been dumped on my doorstep by gypsies. Dame Hilda: Well, that would certainly explain her fondness for toads. Maureen: Mind those big brass hoop earrings don't suit her at all. I mean, they make her look like something one swings from in a gymnasium! Dame Hilda: Ha, ha, ha! Dr. Hinge: Well, if you two can't find anything serious to talk about? Dame Hilda: Oh, that reminds me, Maureen. I have been invited to sit on a jury at the Crown court. Dame Hilda: I'm afraid, Maureen, that it's rather put Evadne’s, nose out of joint. She seems to think that jury service is her sole prerogative, just because she looks like the hanging judge. Maureen: Oh, I’d not like to think she'd ever be permitted to sit on a jury, one supposed to be tried by one's peers, not by a bunch of dyspeptic old misanthropists. Dame Hilda: Now, you come to mention it, Maureen. She's rather like a pier, isn't she? I mean, she's long and steely, and she looks as though she's in urgent need of repair. Ha, ha, ha! Dr. Hinge: I wonder how many people listening to you two would ever guess that one of you was my own mother, and the other supposedly my closest friend. Dame Hilda: Oh, you mustn't take us too seriously, Evadne. I mean, if we didn't like you, we’d never say such things to your face now, would we? Well, would we? Dr. Hinge: No, I suppose not. Dame Hilda: Mind you, you should hear what we say behind your back. Dr. Hinge: That is it, I’m going out. I may even move into hotel until mother's gone. You two together are like something out of St. Trinians. All you need is gym slips, hockey sticks, and a very large bag of gobstoppers. Maureen: Now, now, now, my dear's, let's call it a truce before we say something we regret. I tell you what, why don't the two of you do one of your little songs for me? Dame Hilda: Well, as you know, I'm always game dear, but when Evadne’s in a mood, she tends to fumble. What do you think, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: I think I got just the song for you somewhere here, dear. It's called The Fool of the Family. Maureen: Now, Mona! Dr. Hinge: Yes, here we are? How about this? Dame Hilda: Anything dear to soothe the savage breast? So fumble away, and if I recognise enough of the tune I’ll join in.
My mother and father were clever, as clever as clever could be My brothers and sisters, were never, no never as clever as me They used to complain again and again what a pity poor August has got no brain For I'm the fool, fool, fool of the family. I'm darn right silly and soft I chatter and clatter I grin and grimace Stumble and tumble All over the place I’m a roll, roll, roll of the family I’m downright clever at school But today I earn money From trying to be a funny So it pays to be a fool Maureen: Well done, girls, bravo, bravo. Dr. Hinge: Thank you, mother. Dame Hilda: Yes it’s a jolly little song, isn't it? Maureen: Aye, isn’t it. But isn't it curious how the memory works? You know, Mona, while you were playing that, I suddenly recalled that the tiny snatch of that ballad your father used to recite at Christmas. I can see him now, in his paper hat, standing with his back to the fire so that nobody else could feel it. Brandishing the poker above his head and reciting, I'll light it down my sword to draw, a hacket him pieces sma, a hacket him in pieces sma, for his sake that died for me. Dame Hilda: I say, I wonder if I'll get a murder trial. Evadne, do you think I should ring them and warn them that I'm squeamish? Maureen: Och, I'd forgotten about your jury service, Hilda, and when is it to be then? Dame Hilda: In two or three weeks' time, I'm rather looking forward to it, you know, it could be a most interesting day. Maureen: Och aye, I've only once served on a jury myself. It was five weeks. Day after day, something to do with embezzlement in a porridge factory. Dr. Hinge: Yes, well, yes. You're not likely to get anything that sophisticated round here. The most common crime in these parts is fiddling the electricity meters. I understand one uses a hairpin. Dame Hilda: Oh, well, it would be worth being on a jury just to find out how they do that, then. Dr. Hinge: See, Hilda, you just don't have the right attitude. One does not serve on a jury in order to learn how to commit crime. Dame Hilda: Oh, sounds like Maud coming. Maureen: Oh, heavens, I'll away to my room then. I have some letters to write. And I really can't face that woman first thing. I can't face her last thing either come to that. Maud: Good morning, Dame ‘ilda. Doctor. Madam. Dame Hilda: Good morning, Maud, dear. Dr. Hinge: Good morning, Maud. Maureen: Good morning, Maud, Now, I'm going to be up in my bedroom for a while, so as soon as coffee is ready you can bring me up a cup. Maud: I never carry coffee upstairs, madam, nor tea or nothing wet or messy. Dame ‘ilda’s afraid of accidents. So I only carry wet and messy things as far as the drawing room ‘ere. But when coffee’s ready I'll stick two fingers in me mouth and give yer a whistle if you like. Maureen: Well, I suppose when one's staying in this house one has to count one's blessings. I’ll see you later, girls. Dame Hilda: Yes, very well, Maureen. Now, Maud, I don't recall making that little rule about wet and messy things, dear? Maud: Well, no Dame ‘ilda. It's a little rule as I made up meself. The last time you was in bed with the flu, I was getting sick and tired of scraping junket up off the stair carpet. Dame Hilda: I wondered why the junket was always so full of fluff. Maud: Oh, and talking of delicacies, I've got something ‘ere in my ‘anky for you, there, Dame ‘ilda, What do you make o’ that? Dame Hilda: Well, it's a sausage, dear, isn't it? Maud: And what’s the first thing you notice about that sausage? Dame Hilda: Well, the first thing I noticed about it was that you had it wrapped in your handkerchief. Maud: What about the colour, then? Do you notice anything special about the colour of it? Dame Hilda: Yes, I do. It's rather a curious colour. What colour would you call that, Evadne? Maud: Well, of course, that ain't its natural colour. Dame Hilda: Well, no, I thought it wasn't. How long have you been carrying this around with you? Maud: Oh, not long Dame ‘ilda. Dr. Hinge: What is it? I mean, some sort of substitute for a lucky rabbits foot. Maud: No, it ain’t, Doctor. That's a good ‘olesome, ‘ome made sausage that is, fresh made this morning. ‘addock and sardine! Dame Hilda: It's what? Maud: ‘addock and sardine! It were going to be ‘addock and pilchard, but I couldn't put me ‘and on me pilchards, couldn't put me ‘and on me sardines, neither for a while. Do you know where they was? In me airin’ cupboard. Dame Hilda: Really? We only keep moth balls in ours. Dr. Hinge: And we don't make sausages with them. Maud: So what would you think give it that lovely colour, then? I mean, that ain't the colour of an ‘addock, is it? Nor it ain't the colour of a sardine. Dame Hilda: {Sniffs.} Yeah, yes, dear, yes, very nice. I think the word is piquant, Evadne, wouldn’t you like a sniff dear, rather up your street, this sort of thing, isn't it? Maud: It's got ‘erbs in it, Doctor, ole ‘andfuls of ‘erbs. Dr. Hinge: You don't seem to have left much out, do you? Maud: Go on, Doctor, ave a sniff! Dr. Hinge: {Sniffs.} Most unusual. Though I'm not sure piquant is the word I would have used. Maud: My gran used to make ‘em like that, she did, used to call ‘em beggars, you know, because beggars can't be choosers. Dr. Hinge: I bet beggars used to avoid your place like the plague. Dame Hilda: You know, I really don't think you should keep that in your handkerchief, Maud. Maud: Oh, you've no call to worry on that score, Dame ‘ilda. It's far too big to get stuck up me nose. And anyhow, I brought it for you, you can ‘ang on to that. Dr. Hinge: Well, we could nail it to the wall and hang our hats on it, I suppose? Maud: That's what I'm putting in the flower and produce show this year, two ‘ole pounds of ‘em. Dame Hilda: Incidentally, Maud, when is the show this year? I don't seem to have had my little notice yet. Maud: It's on the 8th of next month, Dame ‘ilda, but they got a bit behind with the notices. Cos the man as pinches the duplicating from work’s bin off sick. Dame Hilda: The show’s on the 8th, is it? Well, I'd better put that in my diary. I think my border carnations stand a very good chance of carrying off first prize this year, Maud: Well I’ll be getting on, then, Dame ‘ilda. Coffee will not be long. And if I was you, I ‘ide that sausage. I'd not want madam getting ‘er ‘ands on it. Dame Hilda: Right, Maud. Thank you, dear. Dr. Hinge: You'd better put your jury service on that diary while you're at it, Hilda. If you fail to turn up, they'll send a black Mariah for you. Dame Hilda: You're right, dear, yes, now, what day is that, then? The notice is on that little table there. Dr. Hinge: Let me see. It's on... Oh. Oh. You are going to have a busy day on the 8th, aren't you? Dame Hilda: It's not on the 8th? Dame Hilda: Then I shall have to get out of it, shan’t I. I cannot miss the flower and produce show. I'll do what you suggested and give them a ring. Dr. Hinge: I don't think you can really do that, Hilda. And I don't think your reason will be considered sufficiently important. After all, inability to attend the flower show hardly affects your livelihood, does it? And you're certainly not in an exempt category. I mean, if you had been, they wouldn't have asked you in the first place. Dr. Hinge: Well, let's see now. I mean, you're not secretly a sailor, are you? Or a soldier, or air man, or a policeman? I suppose you could always go along and tell them you're off your head. Dame Hilda: You think that would do it? Dr. Hinge: Oh, yes, yes, yes. Dame Hilda: Well, it might be worth a try? I mean, I was awfully good as mad Margaret in Ruddigore. Just supposing now, I let all my hair down and slipped into my mad Margaret costume, and went into the court, you see, and saw the clerk, and gave him that little bit from Act 1. And why, who am I? daft Madge, crazy Meg, mad Margaret!! poor Peg, Ha, ha, ha! Dr. Hinge: Yes, that should do it. Dame Hilda: Well, in the event I decided not to try to get out of it after all, I suppose really it was something to do with Evadne having mentioned sailors. I don't know why but whenever sailors crop up, I always think of doing my duty. Come the day and the four of us set out for the Crown court. In the Entrance Hall, we parted company, Evadne, Maureen and Maud headed for the public gallery, where they could get an uninterrupted view of me, clutching their sandwiches, and looking like some rather sinister clique. I made for the jury assembly room, which I may say I did enter with some style. However, things didn't turn out at all as I had envisaged, and within a very short while, we were all back in the entrance hall again, with the whole day ahead of us. Dr. Hinge: All right, Hilda, calm down. Dame Hilda: Calm down, calm down, It's all very well for you to say calm down. You haven't just been singled out and made an exhibition of in front of the entire courtroom. I was just about to be sworn in when suddenly, there they all were, muttering and pointing and looking at me. Dr. Hinge: You usually like that sort of thing. In fact you bask in it. Dame Hilda: Oh, don’t be silly, Evadne. I have never before been objected to. Maureen: You're quite sure you don't know this man, Hilda? Dame Hilda: I am quite sure, Maureen. Maureen: Then what did he actually object to? Maud: Perhaps there were a lot of dirty stuff going to come out, Dame ‘ilda. Stuff as ‘e thought weren't fit for the ears of someone looking as lady like as you do. Dame Hilda: Ah, yes, that is a thought, Maud. Dr. Hinge: Perhaps you made him feel ashamed, Hilda, perhaps you reminded him of his dear, old, white headed mother. Dame Hilda: Well, at least I can't have reminded him of Whistler's mother, which is what you'd have done. Maureen: Oh, well, it's an ill wind. At least we shall all be able to go to the flower show now. I assume they still have to pay you some expenses, so if you just go and pick them up we could take a taxi. Maud: Oh, yes, Dame ‘ilda. Let's get there quick. I can't wait to find out where they put my sausages. Dr. Hinge: I know where I’d put them. Dr. Hinge: What? Car thief? Dr. Hinge: Why bin for him? Dame Hilda: Well, it's obvious, dear. I should have been unable to attend the flower show and collect my prize in person had it not bin for him. Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor
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