A Recipe For Disaster.
{Drawing room.} Dr. Hinge: It's me, Hilda. I'm back! Dame Hilda: I'm in the drawing room, dear. And I warn you I am in no mood for having my temperature taken and my various pulses felt. Dr. Hinge: Ah! There you are. Dame Hilda: Did you have an enjoyable morning? Dr. Hinge: I don't go there to enjoy myself, Hilda. Dame Hilda: No, of course you don't, dear. You don't go anywhere to enjoy yourself. Well, let me rephrase that. Did you have an instructive morning? Dr. Hinge: Yes, very. We dealt with bleeding. Dame Hilda: How nice for you. Dr. Hinge: Surface bleeding, internal bleeding, bleeding from the... Dame Hilda: There's no need to go into detail, Evadne, you know it makes me go all queasy. Dr. Hinge: Yes, and that's something you should attempt to conquer. By the way, Hilda, where's our first aid kit? Dame Hilda: Well, there's a jar of antiseptic ointment and some cotton buds in the bathroom cabinet. And I know we've got some sticking plasters, I've seen them about somewhere. Dr. Hinge: I mean the box, Hilda. Where is the first aid box? Dame Hilda: Ah, yes. I know where that is, too. Now, wait a minute, let me think. Dr. Hinge: Now, it should be somewhere where we can lay hands on it at once in an emergency. Dame Hilda: It probably is, dear. It's just that I can't for the life of me think where that is. I mean, you suddenly shoot a question at me out of the blue. It does require a few moments, thought, dear. Dr. Hinge: Well, you're not going to get a few moments thought in the event of a nuclear strike, are you? Four minutes, that's all. I mean, just suppose we had an emergency right now. Suppose I was bleeding to death. What would you do? Dame Hilda: Probably faint. Dr. Hinge: Yes, exactly. And what would I do then? Dame Hilda: Bleed to death. Unless, of course, you managed to staunch the flow yourself. And then find the smelling salts for me. After all, you're the one doing the first aid. Dr. Hinge: You're impossible. Perhaps Maud will know where that box is. Maud! MAUD!! Maud: Yes, Dame ‘ilda. Dame Hilda: Would you mind terribly coming in here for a moment, dear? Maud: All right, Dame ‘ilda, coming. Dame Hilda: You see, dear. She just likes to be treated with a modicum of consideration. It's not really very much to ask. Dr. Hinge: She's pig-headed, that's what. Stupid woman. Dame Hilda: Shhh! dear, she's coming. Maud: Yes, Dame ‘ilda? Dame Hilda: Oh, Maud. The Doctor would like a little word with you, dear.
Maud: Oh, would she now? Well, if it's anything to do with my having broke the trunk off the china elephant in ‘er bedroom, perhaps you’ll remind ‘er as it ain't the first time as its trunks bin off. Nor it'll not be the last, because she'll stick it back on again, no doubt. So I'll not want ‘er to blame me afresh for breaking something as I've already broke and been blamed for. And I just ‘opes as I make meself clear to ‘er. Dame Hilda: Well, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: No, I accepted long ago that that elephant was destined periodically to be trunkless, Hilda. No, Maud, it's not my elephant I'm worried about. Maud: Ah, well, if you'd shouted that when you did shout, we'd not be ‘aving this little problem now, would we, Doctor? Dame Hilda: I think it's called a communication problem, Evadne? Dr. Hinge: No, I just wondered Maud, if you happen to know where the first aid box is. Maud: What's it look like? Dr. Hinge: Well, it's a tin box about so big with a hinge lid and a red cross on it, and surprisingly enough, the words first aid. Dame Hilda: Oh, no, no, dear, no, no, not any more. Dr. Hinge: What do you mean not any more? Dame Hilda: I gave that box to the Amateur dramatic society a couple of years back. They wanted to use it in their production of The Lady with the lamp. Dr. Hinge: The lady with the lamp! And what on earth did you think Florence Nightingale would be doing with my first aid box? Dame Hilda: They probably thought it was the right period for her. Dr. Hinge: Very, funny! Dame Hilda: Well, in fact, I always thought it was she who gave it to you. Dr. Hinge: I shall ignore that remark. Did we never get the box back then, Hilda? Dame Hilda: No, I'm afraid we didn't, dear, apparently, someone dropped half the Scutari hospital on it during a scene change. It was quite ruined. Dr. Hinge: Right, right, fine. Then we shall just have to re-equip ourselves from scratch, shan't we? Dame Hilda: Oh, mind, they only had the box. They didn't have all the bits and pieces that were in it. Dr. Hinge: Well, it's the bits and pieces I'm after, Hilda. I mean, the box itself is not a lot of use, medically speaking. Dame Hilda: All right, Evadne, there's no need to be sharp. I'm not a fool, you know. I took all the bits and pieces out and put them in a biscuit tin. Dr. Hinge: At last we’re getting there slowly, aren't we? So, Maud, it appears after all, it's a biscuit tin we're looking for. Maud: Oh, I know where there's a biscuit tin, Doctor. Dr. Hinge: Where? Maud: In the kitchen cupboard. Dr. Hinge: Ah-ha! Maud: But it's got nothing but biscuits in it. Dame Hilda: Oh, well, then it's the wrong tin. There's another one somewhere and it's got a picture of a Balmoral on the lid, or it might be Sandringham. Maud: Oh, I know where that is. That's in the cupboard under the stairs. Dame Hilda: I knew I'd seen it somewhere. Dr. Hinge: What a stupid place to put it. Dame Hilda: Well, I don't suppose anybody actually put it there, Evadne. It's just ended up there, that's all. Dr. Hinge: Then, perhaps you'd be good enough to fetch it for me, Maud. I think we should check the contents. Maud: Why certainly, Doctor. Dame Hilda: There, Evadne, you see what a little politeness does. She went like a lamb. Dr. Hinge: She went like an ox, Hilda, but that's her way. Dame Hilda: Well, that's the panic over. We now know where the first aid box is. I wish I could remember when I'd seen those sticking plasters. Dr. Hinge: Oh give your brain a rest, Hilda. It'll be much quicker and far less wearing to buy another packet. Maud: Here we are, then, Doctor. It were just where I knew it were. Behind the ironing board, under the polish box on top of the gas meter. Dame Hilda: I'm surprised you didn't see it yourself, Evadne, the last time you were in there with the gas man. You were in there long enough. Maud: And you’re right Dame ‘ilda, It's Balmoral on the lid. Dame Hilda: See, Evadne, my memory is not as bad as some people would have me believe. Dr. Hinge: Right, Maud, let's have it. Dame Hilda: Thank you, dear. You've been a great help. Dr. Hinge: Yes, this is the one. Maud: Well, if you don't mind, Dame ‘ilda, I'll just finish off in the kitchen and then I'll be getting off ‘ome. Dame Hilda: Of course, dear. You go whenever you'd like. Maud: Only I'm on the brass cleaning rota for the church this week, see. So I'm ‘aving me ‘air done. I'll give you a shout when I'm going. Dame Hilda: Thank you, Maud. Dr. Hinge: Right, then, Hilda. Let's check through the contents of this tin. Dame Hilda: Very well. Dr. Hinge: Now, I'll read out what should be in it from the list they've given me. And you make sure everything's in there. Dame Hilda: Right, fire away. Dr. Hinge: One, several large squares of lint or gauze. Dame Hilda: Yes, there's a packet of lint here. Dr. Hinge: How big? Dame Hilda: Quite big. Dr. Hinge: That's small. Dame Hilda: Have it your own way. You're the expert. Dr. Hinge: And it's a hundred years old by the look of it. Chuck it out, we'll get some new stuff. Two, several rolls of bandage in various widths. Dame Hilda: There's a bandage. Well, there's a bit of a bandage. Dr. Hinge: There's not enough there to bandage a small toe. Chuck it out. Dame Hilda: Right, chuck it out. Dr. Hinge: Three, sticking plasters. Well, we know all about those, don't we? Four, cotton wool. Dame Hilda: Er, no, but we must have had some once, the wrapper's in here. Still, we've always got the buds in the bathroom. Dr. Hinge: No, we'll buy cotton wool. Five, safety pins. Dame Hilda: Oh, we've got lots of those. Dr. Hinge: Right, safety pins. Now, that’s something we've got. Er, finally, a small pair of scissors. Dame Hilda: No. no. Of course, I've got a pair in my Manicure set. Dr. Hinge: And you look after your manicure set. I’ll look after the first aid box. We shall buy a small pair of scissors. Now, is there anything in that tin that I haven't mentioned so far? Dame Hilda: Oh, yes, there's a packet of earplugs. I can remember buying those because of something you were up to. I can't remember what it was, but I think you called it music. Dr. Hinge: Mmm. Well, in any case they shouldn't be in there. Dame Hilda: Oh, and look my seashell! Dr. Hinge: That box has become a dumping ground. Now, I think the obvious thing is to buy a new first aid box. A proper one. {Door knocks!} Dame Hilda: Now, who on earth's that? Maud: It's all right, Dame ‘ilda. I'll go. Then I'll be making tracks. Dr. Hinge: On second thoughts, Hilda, you can give me those earplugs. Dame Hilda: Yes, I must admit that voice is rather penetrating. But then I suppose being a country child, she got used to shouting across the fields. Dr. Hinge: Mmm. It's just lucky she wasn't born in the Alps. I mean, think how many avalanches she’d have started. Maud: It's Major, Dyrenforth Dame ‘ilda. I'm sending ‘im in, and I'm off. See you in the morning. Dame Hilda: Yes, thank you, Maud. Bye-bye, dear. Come along in, then, Major, we’re in here, dear. Major: Ah, good afternoon, Ladies. Dame Hilda: Hello Major. Dr. Hinge: Good afternoon, Major. Major: I'm awfully sorry to trouble you like this, but you don't have to have a drop of petrol you can spare do you? Dame Hilda: Why, yes, dear. Of course, if you prefer it, you can always have a sherry. Ha, ha, ha! Dr. Hinge: I'm afraid Hilda’s rather light headed this afternoon, Major. You see, she's just been reunited with her favourite seashell. So what's the problem? Major: It's the car. I'm just up the road, you see, and stuck. I thought I had enough petrol to get to the garage. Well, I did have enough to get to the garage. I got to the garage, but the garage was closed. Dr. Hinge: He was open this morning all right. He waved his monkey wrench at me as I went by. Dame Hilda: I say you were honoured weren’t you? He's only ever flapped an old inner tube at me. Major: Huge inconvenience, really, closing on a Tuesday? Dame Hilda: Oh, don't worry, Major. Evadne maintains the substantial emergency supply of petrol for her motor mower. And I always find it very comforting to know that whatever disasters may befall us, we shall always have well trimmed lawns. Dr. Hinge: You see, Major, how she mocks my preparedness. She looks on me as a frightful pessimist, I'm afraid, and also as something of a Jonah. She believes that by preparing for trouble, we invite it. Major: Ah, so that's why you didn't want to join in our little exercise on Saturday week then, Hilda. Dame Hilda: What little exercise? Dr. Hinge: Well, if you'd like to come with me, Major, I'll get you your petrol. Dame Hilda: No, no, no, no, not so fast Evadne. What little exercise? Major: I'm sorry, have I put my foot in it? Dame Hilda: Well, Evadne has the Major put his foot in it. Dr. Hinge: Oh, you wouldn't be interested. Dame Hilda: Evadne, dear, I already am interested. Very interested. I'm always interested in devious little conspiracies to exclude me from things in which I may very well prefer to be included. Dr. Hinge: Believe me, Hilda, this is not your sort of thing at all, is it, Major? Major: Well, I must say I shouldn't have thought so. Lorna certainly didn't think so. Dame Hilda: Didn't she? Major: Nor for that matter did Naomi Mellinger, nor the Lady Mayoress. Dame Hilda: You've certainly been asking around, haven't you, dear? Dr. Hinge: Oh, tell her, Major, let's get it over and done with her. I can't bear it when she pouts like that. Major: Well, Hilda, it's really nothing very much. We're just holding a nuclear disaster exercise in Stackton. Dame Hilda: Why, have the Russians told you something I don't know about? Dr. Hinge: There you are, you see, I told you it would worry her. Dame Hilda: I'm not worried, Evadne. I'm just curious. What exactly are you going to do then, Major? Major: Well, we pretend that some sort of disaster has occurred locally, and we test the efficiency of the emergency services. Police, fire brigade, civil defence, ambulance service, and all the voluntary organisations, including, of course, the first aid people, which is how the Doctor became involved. Dame Hilda: Sounds fun. I'd rather like to be in that. Major: Well, I must say you'll be most welcome. Dr. Hinge: What could you do at the scene of a disaster, Hilda? Dame Hilda: I could give comfort. Dr. Hinge: The church army will be doing that. Dame Hilda: I could go around with nice big mugs of hot sweet tea in my hands, a reassuring smile on my face, and a merry quip on my lips, like they do in books. Dr. Hinge: God forbid! Major: To be perfectly honest, Hilda, we're already rather oversubscribed with tea ladies. Making tea appears to be Stackton’s most ready talent and rock cakes. You know, at the end of the last exercise, we had to dig a pit and bury all the leftover rock cakes. Even the birds wouldn't touch them. Dr. Hinge: Now, there's a job for Hilda. We'll give her a shovel, and she can bury the rock cakes. Major: I tell you one thing we are short of, Hilda, and that's volunteers to be casualties, Mind. It's not much of a job, lying around on the ground all day, being pinched and prodded and generally mucked about. Dame Hilda: You almost make it sound interesting. Dr. Hinge: Well, it's not, remember, Hilda, it will be me and my first aid chums, that will be pinching, prodding, and mucking about with you. Dame Hilda: Well, perhaps you're right. I don't think I was cut out to be a casualty, on the other hand, though, will there be a rehabilitation centre, you know, where the shocked and injured are gradually reintroduced to normal living. A place where it appreciates someone like me, who would give them faith in the future. Dr. Hinge: Oh, dear. Dame Hilda: And remind them how rich and wonderful life can be. I mean, I could sing them, cheery songs, the sort of songs that I sang during the war, and I don't have to remind you that we won that. Which must say something for my ability to keep people's peckers up. Dr. Hinge: I think I may as well go to the piano, Major, Something tells me she's going to sing. Hilda's ultimate deterrent the answer to everything. Major: Well, I can think of a lot less pleasant answers. It's a wonderful talent to have. Dame Hilda: Ooohh!! Major, you embarrass me! Evadne, find one of those songs I used to sing at the troop concerts in the war. You'll find the folder on top of the piano somewhere. If that's all right with you, Major, ha, ha! we'll give you one of our Gert and Daisy routines. Major: I'm always very happy to listen to absolutely anything you choose to sing, Hilda. You know that. Dame Hilda: There you are, Evadne. I don’t suppose the Major's really run out of petrol at all. It's probably just his little excuse for popping in and talking me into singing. Dr. Hinge: Hmm. What a pity you can't find someone to pop in and talk you out of it? Dame Hilda: Evadne. The day someone is able to talk me out of spreading a little happiness is the day I am no longer Dame Hilda Bracket. Now play.
I've got a nice friendly face. I think you will agree And folks are always popping in to have a cup of tea You might think there’s a war on They argue and they shout [That’s true} But it's not war or politics I'm worrying about Everybody pinches my butter {Cor blimey} They won't leave my butter alone [Ooer!} And nothing is better than butter For keeping the old man at home Everybody says I'm old fashioned {How could they?} To sit on the things that are rationed {So unfair} So pinch all my ham and my plum and apple jam But please leave my butter alone Please leave my butter alone I went to 10 Downing Street and sat outside to wait To wait for Mr. Chamberlain to come out to the gate. And then I said your honour, I've come here to complain{Cor blimey!} I hope that you'll see I don't have to mention this again
Everybody pinches my butter {How could they?} They won't leave my butter alone{Some people will take anything.} And nothing is better than butter For keeping the old man at home Everybody says I'm old fashioned To sit on the things that are rationed So pinch all my ham and my plum and apple jam But please leave my butter alone. Please leave my butter alone. Cheerio, Gert. Go on, Dase.
Dame Hilda: There you are, Major. I bet that would do more good in a disaster than all your hot tea and rock cakes put together. Major: I don't doubt it Hilda. I was never one disparage the work of ENSA Dr. Hinge: It isn't a shame that we have no place in our exercise for such a potentially valuable contribution. Well, Hilda, on Saturday week we'll just have to get you into a deck chair with a nice romantic novel and leave you in the garden for the day. Dame Hilda: Don't you believe it, Evadne! I intend to take a crash course in first aid, dear. On D day there will be only one person whose qualities and skills in any way approach those of dear Florence Nightingale, bless her, and that will be me. {Disaster Area.} Dame Hilda: Hello, Major. All ready for the off? Oh, we're almost the first to arrive. Dr. Hinge: I told you, we were far too early, Hilda. Major: Well, the tea ladies are hard at it in the kitchen, and all the equipment's here. We've got oxygen cylinders and intravenous drips and sufficient surgical instruments to scare the life out of anybody. Mind, the disasters not scheduled to happen for at least another hour or so. Dame Hilda: Shall we hear anything? Major: I expect someone will give us a ring. Dame Hilda: No, I mean, will there be a big bang or something? Dr. Hinge: I do hope not? Maud: Would anyone like a rock cake afore the rush? Dame Hilda: Bless you, I wouldn't say no to a nice cup of tea, before they put all that sugar in it and spoil it. Maud: Right, Dame ‘ilda, I'll fetch you a tray out. Mind you might have to wait a bit, it’s like a mad ‘ouse in there. {Shouts.}Dame ‘ilda’d like a nice cuppa tea, no sugar!! If you’re ever gonna ‘ave one ready! Major: Well, if you'll excuse me for a moment, Ladies, I'll just give the place the final once over. When I've finished here, I've still got the school and the church hall to check. Dame Hilda: Disasters are so inconvenient to everyone. I always think. Major: If you need anything just shout? Dr. Hinge: Thank you, Major. Now, Hilda, how about a little refresher before the rest arrive? Dame Hilda: Oh, good. Now, did you bring a bottle of something? Dr. Hinge: I meant a practice, dear. Dame Hilda: Oh, yes, why not? I'm game for anything. Dr. Hinge: Right. Then we'll sit on this bench and talk our way through an incident. Now, I am a casualty. Dame Hilda: What's wrong with you? Dr. Hinge: I can't tell you that. You've got to find out. Dame Hilda: Don't be silly, dear. There's no sense in making things more difficult than they need be. You tell me what's wrong with you, and I'll tell you what I'm going to do about it. Dr. Hinge: Well, for a start I'm unconscious. Dame Hilda: You would be. Dr. Hinge: So what you going to do? Dame Hilda: Well, you're going to have to tell me a bit more than that. Dr. Hinge: I can't. I've told you. I'm unconscious. Dame Hilda: Very well. If you're going to turn this into 20 questions, how's your breathing? Dr. Hinge: That's all right. Dame Hilda: Are you bleeding? Dr. Hinge: No. Dame Hilda: That makes a change. Dr. Hinge: But I am making a gurgling noise. Dame Hilda: Oh, you're always doing that. It’s a most irritating habit. Dr. Hinge: No, no, no, no. There's a gurgling in my throat. Now, what are you going to do? Dame Hilda: Let me think. Yes. Yes. I must get you into the recovery position. Lie on on the floor, please, and I'll show you how it's done. Dr. Hinge: Oh, very well. Here goes. Oooh! Dame Hilda: Now, what's the matter? Dr. Hinge: Oh, these dreadful old benches, they ought to burn them. Now, look at that, there's a splinter deep in that finger. Dame Hilda: Try and force it up with your thumbnail, please. Here, let me. Dr. Hinge: No, I'll do it. I can probably suck it out. Dame Hilda: Haven't you got anything in that wonderful new first aid box of yours that you could get it out with? Dr. Hinge: No, I don't think I have. Dame Hilda: Then, how lucky I'm here. Maud! Maud: Yes, Dame ‘ilda. Dame Hilda: Bring me a mug of hot sweet tea for the Doctor, will you? Oh, and a bowl of boiling water, please. I want to sterilise a surgical instrument. Dr. Hinge: Oh, but... Maud: Coming, Dame ‘ilda. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, you're mad. Stark raving mad. I mean, one crash course in first aid, and you think yourself, Dr. Christian Barnard. Dame Hilda: There's no cause for hysterics, dear. If you don't pull yourself together, I shall be forced to slap your face. Dr. Hinge: What? Dame Hilda: And you know I wouldn't like to do that. Although come think of it. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, keep away from me. Dame Hilda: If you’d only calm down, dear, you would see that in my much despised manicure set, which I always carry in my handbag, I happen to have a pair of tweezers. Maud: ‘ere we are, Dame ’ilda, two mugs o’ tea, that one's yours without sugar, and one bowl of lovely boiling water. Dame Hilda: Oh, thank you, dear. Now, Evadne, just sit quite still, relax and do try to be brave, dear. We'll soon have you up and about again. If you're at all squeamish you’d better close your eyes. Now, here we go Dr. Hinge: OOOWWW!! Hilda, you did that on purpose! Dame Hilda: Evadne, for someone who's supposed to be unconscious. You've got a lot to say for yourself. One more word out of you, and I'll send Maud for the scalpel. Dr. Hinge: Oh, oh, oh, oh. Dame Hilda: Isn't this nice? Dr. Hinge: What is Dame Hilda: Well, that you're my first casualty? Oh, I am enjoying myself today. Dr. Hinge: AAAHHHH!!! Dame Hilda: Tweak!!
Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor |
