Gone Fishing

[scfrankles]

Fandom: Dear Ladies
Rating: U/G
Warnings: Mild innuendo and rather a lot of puns
Disclaimer: Hinge and Bracket were created by Patrick Fyffe and George Logan. Dear Ladies was written by Fyffe and Logan, and Gyles Brandreth, and produced by the BBC.

There are quotations in the story from Oh, Look at Me! (lyrics by Dorothy Reynolds and Julian Slade, music by Julian Slade) and Regular Royal Queen (lyrics by W.S. Gilbert and music by Arthur Sullivan).

2295 Words




Hilda, Evadne and the vicar had gathered together in the church hall in order to discuss the Stackton Carnival. Joan Shanks couldn’t be present because she was having her plaster cast redone.

(“Apparently they’ve had yet another look at her X-rays and the arm needs to be reset again,” the vicar had explained.

“It’s shameful really,” said Evadne. “This farce has been going on for months.”

“That’s probably why they needed to change the cast,” said Hilda.)

The three remaining members of the committee had elected to continue without Mrs Shanks and the meeting was now drawing to a close.

“…so the Rose Queen will have a bouquet of dahlias, the silver band will play Goldfinger and the Women’s Institute will dress up as Robin Hood and his Merry Men,” the vicar said, consulting his notes.

“That all seems straightforward,” said Hilda to Evadne. Evadne nodded in agreement.

“And that concludes the arrangements for the parade,” said the vicar. He turned to Evadne. “Now, I believe you have something interesting to tell us.”

“Yes, thank you, Donald,” said Evadne. She grinned girlishly. “It’s most exciting. In my spare time I’ve been working on renovating an old rowing boat and it’s now ready for use. I thought we could give boat rides on the Tressel during the carnival—make a little extra money for the church maintenance fund.”

“You certainly kept that quiet,” said Hilda. “I knew you were spending a lot of time in your shed but I thought you were stripping your tallboy.”

Evadne looked awkward. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said.

“Well, I think it’s a splendid idea,” said the vicar. “Now, who can we get to take care of the trips? Mr Appleford from the garage perhaps?”

“Actually he’ll be playing his cornet all afternoon with the silver band,” said Evadne.

“That’s quite a blow!” said Hilda brightly. “A blow, you see…” She nudged Evadne, who rolled her eyes.

The vicar considered. “Mr Gill the fishmonger..?”

“Well, it’s up to you,” said Hilda. “But I wouldn’t trust him with my rowlocks!”

Evadne turned towards Hilda. “What about you?” she asked. “You’ve known plenty of sailors. You must have picked up a thing or two.”

“I can assure you,” said Hilda with dignity, “that they never expected me to do the hard work.”

Evadne smiled suddenly. “I’m only teasing,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

“You?” said Hilda.

“Why not?” said Evadne. “As a girl I was always messing about with my brother’s friends on the loch.”

“You’re a dark horse…” said Hilda.

“Lovely clear water—full of fish,” said Evadne lost in her reminiscences. “Murdo in particular liked to get his tackle out. He tried to show me what to do but I could never get the hang of it.” She sighed.

The vicar was beginning to look a little bemused.

“I think we’re drifting into dangerous waters now,” said Hilda, trying to catch Evadne’s eye.

“Yes, I suppose I have got off the topic a little,” said Evadne, coming back to herself. She smiled at Hilda and Donald, slightly embarrassed. “But the point is, Murdo did manage to teach me how to row. And I would be thrilled to take charge of the boat trips.”

The vicar just seemed happy to be back on dry land. “Excellent!” he said cheerfully. “Well, I think we can end things there for the moment. Meeting adjourned!”

While Donald busied himself packing up his belongings, Hilda learned over to discreetly talk to Evadne.

“So,” she asked pointedly. “In this boat with Murdo—did you ever catch anything?”

“Actually, no,” said Evadne. “He had terrible trouble with his flies.”





Evadne was a reticent maiden lady and this was a very private place that she didn’t normally allow anyone access to.

“So this is what the inside of your shed looks like,” said Hilda. “Do you know, I haven’t been in here since the estate agent showed us around and we made him an offer.”

Evadne pulled off the boat’s covers.

“What do you think?” she said proudly.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” declared Hilda.

The rowing boat was about ten feet long, constructed from a pale varnished wood. As well as the rower’s seat, there was a seat in the stern and another in the bow.

“You’ve done a wonderful job,” said Hilda, walking round the little boat, admiring every detail.

“I have, haven’t I?” said Evadne, beaming.

Hilda paused at the bow. “How are you going to get it down to the river?”

“That’s nothing to worry about,” said Evadne. “Mr Appleford has a trailer.”

She patted the little craft affectionately.

“I think it’ll be best to moor it near the church. I’ll start the boat trips there: down the river and back again. Five minute round trip—a pound per passenger.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Hilda. “Now, what about conversation?”

“Eh?” said Evadne.

“Well,” said Hilda, “you can’t all just sit there in silence. You have to have a topic of conversation.”

“Hilda,” said Evadne, “I will have enough on my plate propelling a boat through the water. If there’s two of them they can talk to each other. If there’s only one they can admire the scenery.”

“Perhaps I could be in the boat with you,” said Hilda thoughtfully. “Entertaining them. Singing excerpts from HMS Pinafore maybe.”

“I don’t think I could take the extra weight,” said Evadne.

Hilda gave her a look of utter outrage.

“An extra person on all those trips will really make a difference. I don’t want to wear myself out too early.”

“Oh, well,” said Hilda, looking away from her friend and studying the wall. “It was just a thought…”

Evadne sighed.

“All right, Hilda. I shall offer trips from three till six, say. Then, why don’t you join me in the boat and sing one song just to finish the day off?”

Hilda cheered up immediately. “And in the evening at home we could have a little nautical soirée!”

Her face lit up as she imagined the scene.

“An evening of boating songs with light refreshments. We’ll charge two pounds a ticket!”

“Good idea,” said Evadne. “We’ll ask Joan and Donald to set things up while we’re out on the water.”

“Do you think she’ll do it?” asked Hilda, thinking of Mrs Shanks’ cast.

“I’m sure we can twist her arm,” said Evadne.

“Yes…” said Hilda.





The weather was beautifully fair on the morning of the carnival. It was going to be a gorgeous day.

After lunch the two ladies went and changed into fresh outfits. Evadne re-entered the living room wearing a comfortable but smart summer frock in navy blue. Hilda made a grand entrance in a silk two-piece: lemon and covered in a frantic daisy pattern. It was topped off with an enormous straw hat – scarlet, wide brim, with a tall pheasant feather standing proudly erect.

Evadne gave her friend an exasperated look but Hilda pretended not to notice. She went and gave Sandy his fish food, and then walked over to the mirror.

“Isn’t it marvellous?” she said, admiring herself in her new hat. “Antoine kept it back for me, you know.”

“You mean he couldn’t find anyone else fool enough to buy it,” said Evadne.

She tutted at her friend’s costume.

“It’s just a church parade and carnival. You will insist on going overboard, Hilda.”

“Oh, I hope not,” said Hilda laughing. Evadne looked at her blankly.

“Overboard, you see…” Hilda mimed rowing. Evadne continued to look puzzled.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Hilda. She picked up the goldfish bowl and prepared to leave.

“You’re taking the goldfish with you?” asked Evadne.

“Of course!” said Hilda. “There’ll be people coming into the house while we’re not here. I don’t want him getting upset.”

She turned her attention to the bowl. “Come along, Sandy, dear.”

Hilda exited into the hall, tenderly cradling the bowl. Evadne rolled her eyes and followed her.





The annual parade went smoothly for once. Hilda and Evadne were on a float in the middle, performing selections from Salad Days—Evadne accompanying Hilda on the church hall’s upright piano.

“Look at me, oh! Look at me, oh! Look at me, I’m dancing!” sang Hilda.

Evadne did indeed risk taking a look and then opted to keep her eyes on her upright for the rest of the song, that being rather more entertaining.

After the parade had finished, Evadne got onto the water and Hilda went to help in the tea tent. They both had a busy afternoon: Evadne was pulling continuously on the river, and Hilda found that her ladyfingers were very popular, especially with the rugby club.

The time simply flew by. At 6 o’clock Hilda declared the tea tent closed and she and Sandy made their way over to the water, where Evadne’s last two passengers were disembarking from the boat. Hilda gave them a pleasant smile and then climbed into the vessel herself, sitting down in the stern opposite Evadne.

She giggled. “What?” asked Evadne, a little irritated after all her exertions.

“The vessel on the Tressel,” laughed Hilda.

Evadne looked at her. “You have a most infantile sense of humour, Hilda,” she said, beginning to row them away from the bank again.

Evadne stopped in the centre of the river, pulling the oars out of the water and laying them in the bottom of the boat.

“I can’t imagine why you’ve chosen to sing Regular Royal Queen,” she said.

“Well, it’s from The Gondoliers, isn’t it?” said Hilda.

“And I’m bewildered as to why you’ve brought Sandy into the boat with you,” continued Evadne.

Hilda carefully placed the goldfish bowl on the seat next to Evadne, where there was more room.

“I am not leaving him in the tea tent,” she said, “I’d probably come back to find he’d been washed up.”

She leaned over the bowl. “And it’s a nice outing for you, isn’t it, Sandy?” she cooed.

Evadne sighed. “Let’s get this over with then.”

She pulled her banjo out from under the seat.

Hilda was aghast. “You’re not going to accompany me on that?”

“Explain to me how I can fit it into the boat and I’ll use the piano instead,” said Evadne.

“Very well,” said Hilda with dignity. She considered. “How do we let everyone know we’re about to start?”

Evadne held up a finger in a “you will see” gesture. After a quick rummage, she pulled out a megaphone.

“Attention, everybody,” she boomed. “To close the carnival, Dame Hilda and I will now sing, from The Gondoliers, Regular Royal Queen. Thank you.”

There was some light applause from the shore.

Hilda smiled with gritted teeth. “Thank you, dear.”

She took a deep breath, nodded and Evadne began to play.

“Then one of us shall be a Queen, and sit on a golden throne…” sang Hilda.

Evadne strummed furiously.

“…I wonder whether she’d wear a feather?” Hilda coyly indicated the feather in her hat. “I rather think she should!”

They launched into the chorus together, and when that was complete Evadne took over for the next verse.

“She’ll drive about in a carriage and pair…” The erstwhile sailor was completely caught up in the music now.

“…With beautiful silver shoes to wear upon her dainty fe-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-t!” Evadne flung out her arm dramatically.

And knocked over the goldfish bowl.

Hilda watched in paralysed horror as Sandy left the bowl in his own personal waterfall, and disappeared into the river.

“You stupid woman!” cried Hilda at her mortified companion. She leant over the side, desperately trying to catch Sandy in her hands.

Evadne thrust Sandy’s bowl at Hilda. “Use this!” She looked over Hilda’s shoulder and froze.

“Er, best be quick,” she said.

Hilda glanced behind her. Several ducks and a pair of swans were coming over to see what the commotion was. She turned back.

“Sandy! Come to mummy, darling!” She pulled the bowl frantically through the water.

“I’ve got him!”

Hilda snatched the bowl out of the river and into her arms, staring into the crystal clear Tressel water.

“I haven’t got him.”

She looked behind again. The waterfowl were almost upon them. “Evadne! What are we going to do?”

Evadne leant over and grabbed Hilda’s hat off her head. She dragged it through the water and flipped Sandy back into his bowl—just as the first Mallard reached up and snapped at her hand.





Back at the house the guests were arriving for the soirée. Ever the professionals, Hilda and Evadne knew the show had to go on – merely opting to have a restorative cup of tea in the kitchen before they began.

Evadne took a sip from her cup. “Do cheer up, Hilda,” she said.

“Cheer up!” said Hilda. “Cheer up! You catapult Sandy into the Tressel, he’s nearly eaten by ducks…”

She tossed her new headgear onto the table.

“And just look what you’ve done to my hat!”

She pursed her lips. “Perhaps you should have paid more attention to your young man, Murdo. You would have learnt how to land a fish correctly, without attacking a lady’s apparel!”

Evadne regarded the soggy millinery mess. “Well, what was more important to you – the hat or Sandy? I used what was to hand. I thought the end justified the means.”

Hilda gazed fondly at the little goldfish in his bowl, now standing safely on the kitchen counter.

She sighed.

“Yes, you’re right of course.”

Evadne smiled at Hilda and after a pause Hilda smiled back.

“Come on,” said Evadne. “Our audience awaits.”

The two friends stood up and walked into the living room where they were greeted with appreciative applause.

Hilda acknowledged it graciously and then turned to Evadne with a mischievous grin.

“All right,” she whispered, “I’ll let you off the hook.”