![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scfranklesFandom: 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. My story also contains characters and references from the BBC radio series The Random Jottings of Hinge and Bracket by Gerald Frow.
Total: 7,807 Words
This Chapter: 3,623 Words
“Christmas!” declared Evadne, coming out of the kitchen and into the living room.
“Hallowe’en, surely,” said Hilda from her armchair, automatically glancing at the calendar.
“No,” said Evadne, with a hint of exasperation. “I mean perhaps we should start planning for Christmas. It popped into my head as I was making my preparations for tonight.”
Hilda put down her needlework and looked at Evadne. “How have you been preparing for tonight? Polishing your broomstick?”
Evadne gave her companion a very hard stare. “I have been wrestling with a swede in the kitchen.”
“I see…” said Hilda.
Evadne sighed.
“I’ve been making a traditional turnip lantern, Hilda.”
“Oh!” said Hilda. “To ward off evil spirits.”
“In a manner of speaking,” said Evadne. “I was thinking mainly of Stackton’s teenagers.”
She came and sat down on the settee. “You know how they’ve begun copying that awful American custom—‘tricking and treating’ or whatever it’s called. We don’t want a repeat of last year.” She shuddered slightly.
“I don’t know why you just didn’t offer them some of your homemade cakes as the ‘treat’,” said Hilda.
“I did,” said Evadne, looking puzzled. “It was after that they threw eggs at the front door.”
“Yes, beetroot fancies are an acquired taste I suppose,” said Hilda, examining her embroidery.
She looked back up at her friend. “But is a turnip lantern really enough to keep the local youths away?”
“Oh, I think so,” said Evadne. “Well, that and I’m going to padlock the gates.”
“Very sensible, dear,” said Hilda, going back to her embroidery.
“Anyway,” said Evadne. “Christmas. It occurred to me that we always leave everything to the last minute, and every year it’s a dreadful rush. This year I think we should start early—plan properly.”
“What do you have in mind, dear?” asked Hilda.
“Well, there’s the pantomime,” said Evadne.
“But we’ve been rehearsing that for the past two weeks,” said Hilda, glancing up.
“I know,” said Evadne. “But I want to increase the numbers of rehearsals. Once a week isn’t enough. And I am going to insist on more commitment and discipline. The cast turn up only when they feel like it. The only people who take the blessed thing seriously are the audience. I don’t think we got a single laugh last year.”
“Yes, I do see your point,” said Hilda. She put her needlework aside and gave Evadne her full attention. “What else were you thinking about?”
“We need some new ornaments for the tree,” said Evadne.
Hilda frowned. “What’s wrong with the ones we’ve already got?” she asked.
“Nothing at all,” said Evadne. “They’re absolutely fine—the ones we’ve got left. But if you recall, you allowed Maud to decorate the tree last Christmas and our collection was decimated.”
“Ah, yes,” said Hilda, “that was a shame.” She giggled slightly. “But at least Maud had a smashing time!”
Evadne looked at Hilda blankly.
“Smashing, you see,” said Hilda brightly. She watched her hands smoothing down her skirt. “It doesn’t matter…”
Evadne decided to press on. “So, I think we should start there. Ahlers on Saturday!”
The following Saturday was the sixth of November.
Evadne looked around the department store. “I can’t see any Christmas decorations,” she said, worriedly. “I suspect we might be too early for them.”
“You were the one who wanted to start preparing for Christmas now,” said Hilda.
“Yes, I know,” said Evadne, “but it’s probably all still treacle toffee and fireworks.”
A young man with a baby face and dark curls spotted them and came over.
“Can I help you ladies?” he asked.
“My friend was just saying she was expecting fireworks,” said Hilda.
“Oh, I think she’s left it a little late for that,” said the assistant.
Hilda nodded sadly, mouthing discreetly ‘yes.’
“I’m afraid we’ve sold out, madam,” said the assistant, addressing Evadne.
“No,” said Evadne smiling. “No, we’re actually here for Christmas decorations.”
“You’ve left it a little late there too,” he said.
“Really?” asked Evadne, her face falling.
“Oh, yes,” said the young man, “nowadays you really need to be thinking about Christmas in October.”
“Perhaps we should just celebrate it in August and get it over and done with,” muttered Hilda.
“But I can show you what stock we have left, if you tell me what you’re looking for,” said the assistant, indicating a corner of the shop floor.
“Splendid,” said Evadne. “Well, ideally I’m looking for something long and dangly.”
The young man thought about that.
“A bauble for the tree,” explained Evadne.
“Of course, madam,” said the assistant in some relief. He went over to the decorations, selected an ornament and brought it back to the ladies.
“What about this?” he asked, showing them a slim, silvery bauble.
“Oh, that’s lovely!” said Hilda.
“It’s rather like the one Joan Shanks had last year,” said Evadne. “Do you remember?”
“Oh, yes,” said Hilda. “Luminous. Beautiful effect.” She turned to the young man.
“Does yours light up in the dark?”
There was a pause.
“I’m afraid not,” said the assistant eventually. He considered a little.
“Fairies,” he declared.
“I beg your pardon,” said Hilda, affronted.
A worried look passed over the face of the assistant as once more the conversation seemed to get away from him.
“Do you need a fairy for the top of your tree..?” he asked.
“Oh!” said Hilda. She glanced at Evadne. “Well, maybe. Our angel is a little tarnished.”
“She will keep falling,” said Evadne regretfully.
“Do you know,” said Hilda, “I think I’d like a star as a change.”
Evadne gave a wry smile. “Well, that’s easy,” she said. “We can just use the one you keep for putting on your dressing-room doors.”
Hilda glared at her companion.
“Perhaps I’ll just let you browse,” said the assistant and quickly made his escape. Maybe he’d have his tea break a little early today, he thought.
At home they went through their purchases: eight new baubles, a rather depressed looking robin and a glitter-covered star for the top of the tree.
“Well, that could have gone better,” said Hilda, settling herself down in her armchair. “Perhaps we should just cancel this Christmas, and have another go next year.”
“We mustn’t be downhearted,” said Evadne, tidying everything back into the bag. “Look at it this way—if we’d waited any longer, we wouldn’t have got anything at all. No, onwards and upwards! A cup of tea and then let’s get over to the hall for the rehearsal.”
On their way into the church hall they bumped into the vicar.
“Hello, Donald!” said Hilda. “We’re just on our way to rehearsals.”
“Ah, yes,” said the vicar vaguely. “Remind me, which pantomime are you doing this year?”
“Beauty and the Beast,” said Evadne.
“Of course,” said the vicar. “And are you two ladies taking the leading roles?”
Evadne gave him a very hard stare but Hilda giggled.
“Oh, no,” she said, “unfortunately I am a little too mature to play Beauty. Just by a few years.”
“A few decades more like,” muttered Evadne.
“And the Doctor has taken on the roles of writer and director,” said Hilda.
“How wonderful,” said the vicar. “Well, I must let you get on.”
He meandered away.
“I swear Donald is getting more and more absentminded,” said Evadne.
“Oh, don’t be beastly,” giggled Hilda.
Evadne gave her a very severe look and they entered the hall.
Inside, they found their amateur company had already begun assembling: the fishmonger and Mrs Thorneycroft from the Post Office, who were playing the King and Queen, Miss Martins the primary school teacher, who was the witch, and Karen and Philip, the teenagers playing Beauty and the Beast/Prince. The adults all looked as though they wished they were elsewhere, while Philip looked rather shy. Karen though was practically bouncing with enthusiasm.
“So, to recap,” said Evadne, standing in front of her seated cast and consulting her notes. “The wicked witch—angry with being snubbed by the King and Queen—curses the Prince, who leaves the palace and finds refuge in a magical house and garden, created for him by the beautiful good fairy…”
“Played by me!” Hilda interjected cheerfully.
“Played by Dame Hilda,” confirmed Evadne. “Then Beauty’s father goes on his travels in order to trade his wares, and he promises to bring back presents: his oldest daughters want jewels, Beauty wants only a rose. As we know, Beauty ends up being given to the Beast as the price for the rose.”
“The good fairy accompanies her to watch over her,” said Hilda.
“Yes, thank you, Hilda,” said Evadne in some irritation. “Beauty falls in love with the Beast, the spell is broken and everyone returns to the palace, where there are great jubilations.”
She put down her notes. “So,” said Evadne, “I had thought we’d begin by rehearsing the scene when Beauty’s father is about to depart. He’s saying goodbye to his wife, and asking his daughters what gifts they desire. That’s Teddy, Peggy, Karen, Suzanne and Tracy.”
Evadne glanced over at the front door. “Have Suzanne and Tracy still not arrived?”
Karen’s hand shot up. “They said they don’t want to come any more. They’ve doing gymnastics with the Venture Scouts instead.”
“Oh,” said Evadne. She rallied. “Well, no matter. We can work round them. Beauty can be an only child—I’ll do the rewriting before our next rehearsal.”
She looked at Hilda. “Any word from Teddy and Peggy?”
As if on cue, the phone in the office started ringing.
Evadne sighed. “Just answer that would you, Hilda and then we can get on.”
Hilda went into the office and picked up the phone. “Stackton church hall! How may I help you?”
There was a slight pause.
“Oh, hello Teddy!”
Hilda covered the receiver and called out of the open office door to her colleague: “It’s Teddy, Evadne!”
“Well, ask him why he’s not here,” said Evadne.
“Yes, of course.” Hilda took her hand away from the receiver and spoke into it. “We’re at the rehearsal, dear. We rather thought you and Peggy might have been here too.”
She listened. “Oh, I see.” Hilda’s brow furrowed. “The young man didn’t know what he was doing and Peggy went too far.”
Evadne raised her eyebrows.
“And then Peggy was picked up by three sailors.” Hilda sounded bemused.
Evadne felt bemused.
“Oh, I see. Peggy was picked up out of the water by three sailors,” said Hilda. “Oh, how dreadful. Yes, of course you must stay with her. I’ll let Evadne know. Yes. Bye, dear.”
She put the phone down and went to rejoin the others.
“They can’t come this evening,” Hilda told Evadne. “Peggy has had an accident while bungee jumping and Teddy feels he ought to stay with her.”
“Bungee the wrong length?” asked Evadne.
“Forgot to attach it,” said Hilda sadly.
Evadne sighed. “Poor Peggy. Well, I suppose we’ll have to scrap working on the scene with Beauty’s family. Instead we’ll do the reunion scene at the end: the Prince, restored to his old self, brings Beauty home to meet his royal parents.”
She turned over the pages of her script.
“We’ll start from: ‘I thought I was going to be all hairy forever, but now I’m myself again. What a close shave that was.’”
Hilda rolled her eyes.
“There’s just one last thing,” said Evadne, when the rehearsals were finally over and everyone was preparing to leave. “I am going to increase our rehearsals to twice a week—Wednesday evenings, as well as Saturday evenings. Naturally I won’t need everyone at every rehearsal, but if you are timetabled to attend, I will expect you to be there.”
There was a certain amount of muttering amongst the cast, only Karen appearing truly enthusiastic about the extra commitment. Hilda gave Evadne a worried look but her colleague didn’t appear to have noticed.
“So I’ll see you all Wednesday!” said Evadne.
There were dark expressions on the adult members of her cast.
“Are you sure it wouldn’t be better just to cancel the pantomime,” said Hilda, once they were home again and hanging up their coats. “We could do a little musical evening instead…”
“Nonsense, Hilda,” said Evadne taking off her hat and patting her hair back into place. “So, a couple of people have dropped out—the important characters are still there. It’ll all be splendid. The extra rehearsals will see to that.”
Hilda looked uncertain. “I suppose so.”
“I feel quite invigorated,” said Evadne. “I’ve really got the bit between my teeth now and I’m going to start work on the next part of my plan. The food!”
So on Monday, bright and early, Hilda entered the butcher’s. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Dame Hilda,” said Mr Ptolman, Jr cheerfully. “What can I do for you?”
“Well,” said Hilda. “I was wondering if you’re taking orders for Christmas yet.”
“Of course!” said Mr Ptolman, reaching for his order book. He looked back up at Dame Hilda.
“You’re ordering a little earlier than usual, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” said Hilda. “We’re trying to organise Christmas a bit more efficiently this year.” She bent her head to one side, smiling a little coyly. “It is a good idea. Don’t want to have a scraggy old bird for Christmas.”
“The Doctor not with you?” said Mr Ptolman.
Hilda’s mouth fell open.
Mr Ptolman looked a little uncertain. “Only you normally order the bird together…” he said.
“Oh, I see what you mean,” giggled Hilda. “No, no, she’s at home stirring things up.”
Mr Ptolman gave her a bewildered look and then pulled himself together and got on with taking the order for Utopia Ltd.
Evadne was still in the kitchen making the Christmas pudding when Hilda got home.
“Everything go all right?” asked Evadne as Hilda came into the room.
“It went wonderfully,” declared Hilda. “You were absolutely right. Because we ordered early, Mr Ptolman has promised to give us a goose!”
“You see!” said Evadne. She stirred the pudding mixture vigorously.
“How’s it going?” asked Hilda, coming over to the table and staring into the bowl.
“It’s going to be marvellous,” declared Evadne. “One of my best.”
“What’s in it?” asked Hilda.
“The usual,” said Evadne. “Mixed fruit, assorted nuts, candied peel, and a pinch of dried bladderwrack for interest.”
“Sounds delicious…” said Hilda.
“And I haven’t only been making the pudding,” said Evadne. “I’ve made a full list of all foodstuffs that we’re going to need, cross-referenced with when we need to buy them.”
“My, you have been busy,” said Hilda, sitting down at the table.
Evadne spooned the mixture into a bowl, covered the top in greaseproof paper and silver foil, carried it over to the Aga and carefully placed the pudding into a pan of water to steam.
“And now—Mother!” said Evadne coming back to the kitchen table and sitting down with Hilda.
“Oh, don’t,” said Hilda. “Looking after your mother is about eighty per cent of the hard work over Christmas.”
“Yes,” said Evadne. “Which is why I’ve come up with a good excuse as to why she can’t come and stay.”
“Oh, yes..?” said Hilda.
“I’m going to be seriously ill!” said Evadne.
Hilda stared at her. “That’s sounds cheerful.”
“I will just be pretending obviously,” said Evadne. “Not anything life-threatening—just something vaguely chronic, while will last from now until the festive season is over.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Hilda, shifting awkwardly.
“Think about it, Hilda,” said Evadne. “Mother only comes here for Christmas because she knows we’re going to wait on her hand and foot. If she thinks we won’t be able to look after her—if she thinks she may, God forbid, have to look after me—we won’t see her for dust.”
“Well, it would be nice to have a Christmas where we could spoil ourselves, I have to admit,” said Hilda. “But I’m really not happy about lying to your mother.”
Evadne looked a bit uncomfortable herself. “For the plan to work, I’m afraid you’re going to have to. You’ll have to answer the phone from now until Christmas Day in case it’s Mother ringing.”
“Every time?” asked Hilda. “But when your mother calls from Acapulco, she always reverses the charges. If you get a reverse charge call from Mexico, you can just put the phone down.”
“If I put the phone down, Mother will know something’s up,” said Evadne. “No, if I’m alone in the house I won’t answer the phone at all. In all other cases, you’ll have to do it.”
“Well, all right,” said Hilda hesitantly. “But on your head be it.”
“Come along, Hilda!” called Evadne, as she put her coat on in the hallway. “We need to make an early start if we’re going to get to town before the shops are busy. I want to get as many presents as possible today.”
Hilda came hurrying down the stairs. “Yes, all right. I think I’ve got my outfit right now.”
Evadne gave her a withering look. “You’re going to be wearing a thick coat over it. What does it matter?”
Hilda staggered a little. She recovered, and straightened her back.
“My dear Evadne…” she began.
The phone began to ring.
“Well, never mind,” said Hilda. “You see who that is, and I’ll go and start the car.”
“I can’t answer the phone,” said Evadne.
Hilda gave her a bemused look.
“Mother, remember?” said Evadne.
Hilda sighed wearily. “Oh, all right.”
She strode to the phone in irritation and picked up the receiver with a flourish. “Stackton 295!”
There was a pause. Hilda turned to Evadne, who was still in the hallway. “Reverse call from Acapulco,” she whispered.
Evadne hurried into the living room, an anxious expression on her face.
Hilda concentrated intently on the receiver.
“Oh, hello, Maureen!” she said abruptly. “Yes, yes—it’s Hilda. No, I’m afraid she can’t come to the phone at the moment.” Another slight pause and Hilda gave Evadne a significant look. “Apparently she’s not too well.”
Evadne cast her eyes downwards and went to sit on the settee.
“We think it might drag on a bit,” said Hilda. She grimaced slightly. “It looks like we’re going to have to cancel Christmas—we won’t be able to have you to stay unfortunately.”
She changed the receiver to her other ear.
“What’s that? Oh, yes—Evadne’s tucked up in bed. She was looking a bit flushed so I gave her something to suck on.”
Evadne turned round and raised her eyebrows at Hilda.
Hilda put her hand over the receiver. “Cough drops,” she whispered.
“I don’t have a cold,” Evadne whispered back.
Hilda uncovered the receiver again and used the hand to give a ‘shush’ gesture.
“Sorry, Maureen?” she said. Hilda turned in anguish to Evadne. “You want to risk it and come anyway.”
Evadne shook her head vigorously and made an expansive gesture, suggesting she was handing something out. Hilda looked at her questioningly. With great irritation, Evadne repeated the gesture. Hilda covered the receiver.
“I’m infectious,” said Evadne.
“Oh, I see,” laughed Hilda. She uncovered the receiver. “That wouldn’t be wise I’m afraid. Evadne is highly infectious.” There was a pause while she listened to the reply on the other end.
“What? Me?” she said. “No, I’ve had it.” She considered the buttons on the phone. “Many times in fact.” There was another pause.
“Yes?” said Hilda. “Oh, I see. Right then. Bye. Bye, Maureen.” She replaced the receiver.
“So?” asked Evadne. “Have we got away with it?”
“She’s phoning again in a few days to see if you’re any better,” said Hilda. “She hasn’t given up the idea of coming for Christmas yet.”
“Drat!” said Evadne.
Hilda came and joined her friend on the settee. “Don’t you think we should just give in? Phone her back and tell her you’ve made a miraculous recovery. It all seems a little cruel.”
“No, Hilda,” said Evadne. “My mind is made up. It’s time for me to be the selfish one. I’m tired of running about after Mother every Christmas while she criticises every single aspect of our celebrations. Each time Mother rings I shall be even more ill, and I won’t be making a miraculous recovery until Christmas Day!”
They didn’t talk in the car. Hilda was pursing her lips in a way that Evadne knew meant she was irritated.
“Are you going to be annoyed with me all day?” said Evadne, once the car was safely parked and they were walking towards the city centre.
“I’m not annoyed,” said Hilda staring resolutely straight ahead. Evadne raised her eyebrows.
Hilda caught the look. “I just don’t like being dragged into your family dramas,” she said.
“It’s just a couple of phone calls at most,” said Evadne. She stopped walking and Hilda stopped too.
“And do you really want my mother to come for Christmas?” said Evadne. “Doing everything for her while she complains it’s not good enough?”
“No, I suppose not,” said Hilda. They started walking again.
“Anyway,” said Evadne, “you’re a fine one to talk about ‘family dramas’. What about three years ago when we went to stay at your nephew Julian’s place for Christmas? He promised us we wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Then gastric flu cuts a swathe through the staff and we end up cooking Christmas dinner for twenty-five sailors!”
“I do wish you would stop bringing that up,” snapped Hilda. “Well, I suppose you’ll be glad to hear Julian has sold his establishment, so he definitely won’t be needing us this Christmas.”
“Oh?” said Evadne.
“Yes,” said Hilda. “He’s going cruising instead.”
“Lovely…” said Evadne.
They headed for the department stores, and plunged into the Christmas shopping.
Part 2
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. My story also contains characters and references from the BBC radio series The Random Jottings of Hinge and Bracket by Gerald Frow.
Total: 7,807 Words
This Chapter: 3,623 Words
“Christmas!” declared Evadne, coming out of the kitchen and into the living room.
“Hallowe’en, surely,” said Hilda from her armchair, automatically glancing at the calendar.
“No,” said Evadne, with a hint of exasperation. “I mean perhaps we should start planning for Christmas. It popped into my head as I was making my preparations for tonight.”
Hilda put down her needlework and looked at Evadne. “How have you been preparing for tonight? Polishing your broomstick?”
Evadne gave her companion a very hard stare. “I have been wrestling with a swede in the kitchen.”
“I see…” said Hilda.
Evadne sighed.
“I’ve been making a traditional turnip lantern, Hilda.”
“Oh!” said Hilda. “To ward off evil spirits.”
“In a manner of speaking,” said Evadne. “I was thinking mainly of Stackton’s teenagers.”
She came and sat down on the settee. “You know how they’ve begun copying that awful American custom—‘tricking and treating’ or whatever it’s called. We don’t want a repeat of last year.” She shuddered slightly.
“I don’t know why you just didn’t offer them some of your homemade cakes as the ‘treat’,” said Hilda.
“I did,” said Evadne, looking puzzled. “It was after that they threw eggs at the front door.”
“Yes, beetroot fancies are an acquired taste I suppose,” said Hilda, examining her embroidery.
She looked back up at her friend. “But is a turnip lantern really enough to keep the local youths away?”
“Oh, I think so,” said Evadne. “Well, that and I’m going to padlock the gates.”
“Very sensible, dear,” said Hilda, going back to her embroidery.
“Anyway,” said Evadne. “Christmas. It occurred to me that we always leave everything to the last minute, and every year it’s a dreadful rush. This year I think we should start early—plan properly.”
“What do you have in mind, dear?” asked Hilda.
“Well, there’s the pantomime,” said Evadne.
“But we’ve been rehearsing that for the past two weeks,” said Hilda, glancing up.
“I know,” said Evadne. “But I want to increase the numbers of rehearsals. Once a week isn’t enough. And I am going to insist on more commitment and discipline. The cast turn up only when they feel like it. The only people who take the blessed thing seriously are the audience. I don’t think we got a single laugh last year.”
“Yes, I do see your point,” said Hilda. She put her needlework aside and gave Evadne her full attention. “What else were you thinking about?”
“We need some new ornaments for the tree,” said Evadne.
Hilda frowned. “What’s wrong with the ones we’ve already got?” she asked.
“Nothing at all,” said Evadne. “They’re absolutely fine—the ones we’ve got left. But if you recall, you allowed Maud to decorate the tree last Christmas and our collection was decimated.”
“Ah, yes,” said Hilda, “that was a shame.” She giggled slightly. “But at least Maud had a smashing time!”
Evadne looked at Hilda blankly.
“Smashing, you see,” said Hilda brightly. She watched her hands smoothing down her skirt. “It doesn’t matter…”
Evadne decided to press on. “So, I think we should start there. Ahlers on Saturday!”
The following Saturday was the sixth of November.
Evadne looked around the department store. “I can’t see any Christmas decorations,” she said, worriedly. “I suspect we might be too early for them.”
“You were the one who wanted to start preparing for Christmas now,” said Hilda.
“Yes, I know,” said Evadne, “but it’s probably all still treacle toffee and fireworks.”
A young man with a baby face and dark curls spotted them and came over.
“Can I help you ladies?” he asked.
“My friend was just saying she was expecting fireworks,” said Hilda.
“Oh, I think she’s left it a little late for that,” said the assistant.
Hilda nodded sadly, mouthing discreetly ‘yes.’
“I’m afraid we’ve sold out, madam,” said the assistant, addressing Evadne.
“No,” said Evadne smiling. “No, we’re actually here for Christmas decorations.”
“You’ve left it a little late there too,” he said.
“Really?” asked Evadne, her face falling.
“Oh, yes,” said the young man, “nowadays you really need to be thinking about Christmas in October.”
“Perhaps we should just celebrate it in August and get it over and done with,” muttered Hilda.
“But I can show you what stock we have left, if you tell me what you’re looking for,” said the assistant, indicating a corner of the shop floor.
“Splendid,” said Evadne. “Well, ideally I’m looking for something long and dangly.”
The young man thought about that.
“A bauble for the tree,” explained Evadne.
“Of course, madam,” said the assistant in some relief. He went over to the decorations, selected an ornament and brought it back to the ladies.
“What about this?” he asked, showing them a slim, silvery bauble.
“Oh, that’s lovely!” said Hilda.
“It’s rather like the one Joan Shanks had last year,” said Evadne. “Do you remember?”
“Oh, yes,” said Hilda. “Luminous. Beautiful effect.” She turned to the young man.
“Does yours light up in the dark?”
There was a pause.
“I’m afraid not,” said the assistant eventually. He considered a little.
“Fairies,” he declared.
“I beg your pardon,” said Hilda, affronted.
A worried look passed over the face of the assistant as once more the conversation seemed to get away from him.
“Do you need a fairy for the top of your tree..?” he asked.
“Oh!” said Hilda. She glanced at Evadne. “Well, maybe. Our angel is a little tarnished.”
“She will keep falling,” said Evadne regretfully.
“Do you know,” said Hilda, “I think I’d like a star as a change.”
Evadne gave a wry smile. “Well, that’s easy,” she said. “We can just use the one you keep for putting on your dressing-room doors.”
Hilda glared at her companion.
“Perhaps I’ll just let you browse,” said the assistant and quickly made his escape. Maybe he’d have his tea break a little early today, he thought.
At home they went through their purchases: eight new baubles, a rather depressed looking robin and a glitter-covered star for the top of the tree.
“Well, that could have gone better,” said Hilda, settling herself down in her armchair. “Perhaps we should just cancel this Christmas, and have another go next year.”
“We mustn’t be downhearted,” said Evadne, tidying everything back into the bag. “Look at it this way—if we’d waited any longer, we wouldn’t have got anything at all. No, onwards and upwards! A cup of tea and then let’s get over to the hall for the rehearsal.”
On their way into the church hall they bumped into the vicar.
“Hello, Donald!” said Hilda. “We’re just on our way to rehearsals.”
“Ah, yes,” said the vicar vaguely. “Remind me, which pantomime are you doing this year?”
“Beauty and the Beast,” said Evadne.
“Of course,” said the vicar. “And are you two ladies taking the leading roles?”
Evadne gave him a very hard stare but Hilda giggled.
“Oh, no,” she said, “unfortunately I am a little too mature to play Beauty. Just by a few years.”
“A few decades more like,” muttered Evadne.
“And the Doctor has taken on the roles of writer and director,” said Hilda.
“How wonderful,” said the vicar. “Well, I must let you get on.”
He meandered away.
“I swear Donald is getting more and more absentminded,” said Evadne.
“Oh, don’t be beastly,” giggled Hilda.
Evadne gave her a very severe look and they entered the hall.
Inside, they found their amateur company had already begun assembling: the fishmonger and Mrs Thorneycroft from the Post Office, who were playing the King and Queen, Miss Martins the primary school teacher, who was the witch, and Karen and Philip, the teenagers playing Beauty and the Beast/Prince. The adults all looked as though they wished they were elsewhere, while Philip looked rather shy. Karen though was practically bouncing with enthusiasm.
“So, to recap,” said Evadne, standing in front of her seated cast and consulting her notes. “The wicked witch—angry with being snubbed by the King and Queen—curses the Prince, who leaves the palace and finds refuge in a magical house and garden, created for him by the beautiful good fairy…”
“Played by me!” Hilda interjected cheerfully.
“Played by Dame Hilda,” confirmed Evadne. “Then Beauty’s father goes on his travels in order to trade his wares, and he promises to bring back presents: his oldest daughters want jewels, Beauty wants only a rose. As we know, Beauty ends up being given to the Beast as the price for the rose.”
“The good fairy accompanies her to watch over her,” said Hilda.
“Yes, thank you, Hilda,” said Evadne in some irritation. “Beauty falls in love with the Beast, the spell is broken and everyone returns to the palace, where there are great jubilations.”
She put down her notes. “So,” said Evadne, “I had thought we’d begin by rehearsing the scene when Beauty’s father is about to depart. He’s saying goodbye to his wife, and asking his daughters what gifts they desire. That’s Teddy, Peggy, Karen, Suzanne and Tracy.”
Evadne glanced over at the front door. “Have Suzanne and Tracy still not arrived?”
Karen’s hand shot up. “They said they don’t want to come any more. They’ve doing gymnastics with the Venture Scouts instead.”
“Oh,” said Evadne. She rallied. “Well, no matter. We can work round them. Beauty can be an only child—I’ll do the rewriting before our next rehearsal.”
She looked at Hilda. “Any word from Teddy and Peggy?”
As if on cue, the phone in the office started ringing.
Evadne sighed. “Just answer that would you, Hilda and then we can get on.”
Hilda went into the office and picked up the phone. “Stackton church hall! How may I help you?”
There was a slight pause.
“Oh, hello Teddy!”
Hilda covered the receiver and called out of the open office door to her colleague: “It’s Teddy, Evadne!”
“Well, ask him why he’s not here,” said Evadne.
“Yes, of course.” Hilda took her hand away from the receiver and spoke into it. “We’re at the rehearsal, dear. We rather thought you and Peggy might have been here too.”
She listened. “Oh, I see.” Hilda’s brow furrowed. “The young man didn’t know what he was doing and Peggy went too far.”
Evadne raised her eyebrows.
“And then Peggy was picked up by three sailors.” Hilda sounded bemused.
Evadne felt bemused.
“Oh, I see. Peggy was picked up out of the water by three sailors,” said Hilda. “Oh, how dreadful. Yes, of course you must stay with her. I’ll let Evadne know. Yes. Bye, dear.”
She put the phone down and went to rejoin the others.
“They can’t come this evening,” Hilda told Evadne. “Peggy has had an accident while bungee jumping and Teddy feels he ought to stay with her.”
“Bungee the wrong length?” asked Evadne.
“Forgot to attach it,” said Hilda sadly.
Evadne sighed. “Poor Peggy. Well, I suppose we’ll have to scrap working on the scene with Beauty’s family. Instead we’ll do the reunion scene at the end: the Prince, restored to his old self, brings Beauty home to meet his royal parents.”
She turned over the pages of her script.
“We’ll start from: ‘I thought I was going to be all hairy forever, but now I’m myself again. What a close shave that was.’”
Hilda rolled her eyes.
“There’s just one last thing,” said Evadne, when the rehearsals were finally over and everyone was preparing to leave. “I am going to increase our rehearsals to twice a week—Wednesday evenings, as well as Saturday evenings. Naturally I won’t need everyone at every rehearsal, but if you are timetabled to attend, I will expect you to be there.”
There was a certain amount of muttering amongst the cast, only Karen appearing truly enthusiastic about the extra commitment. Hilda gave Evadne a worried look but her colleague didn’t appear to have noticed.
“So I’ll see you all Wednesday!” said Evadne.
There were dark expressions on the adult members of her cast.
“Are you sure it wouldn’t be better just to cancel the pantomime,” said Hilda, once they were home again and hanging up their coats. “We could do a little musical evening instead…”
“Nonsense, Hilda,” said Evadne taking off her hat and patting her hair back into place. “So, a couple of people have dropped out—the important characters are still there. It’ll all be splendid. The extra rehearsals will see to that.”
Hilda looked uncertain. “I suppose so.”
“I feel quite invigorated,” said Evadne. “I’ve really got the bit between my teeth now and I’m going to start work on the next part of my plan. The food!”
So on Monday, bright and early, Hilda entered the butcher’s. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Dame Hilda,” said Mr Ptolman, Jr cheerfully. “What can I do for you?”
“Well,” said Hilda. “I was wondering if you’re taking orders for Christmas yet.”
“Of course!” said Mr Ptolman, reaching for his order book. He looked back up at Dame Hilda.
“You’re ordering a little earlier than usual, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” said Hilda. “We’re trying to organise Christmas a bit more efficiently this year.” She bent her head to one side, smiling a little coyly. “It is a good idea. Don’t want to have a scraggy old bird for Christmas.”
“The Doctor not with you?” said Mr Ptolman.
Hilda’s mouth fell open.
Mr Ptolman looked a little uncertain. “Only you normally order the bird together…” he said.
“Oh, I see what you mean,” giggled Hilda. “No, no, she’s at home stirring things up.”
Mr Ptolman gave her a bewildered look and then pulled himself together and got on with taking the order for Utopia Ltd.
Evadne was still in the kitchen making the Christmas pudding when Hilda got home.
“Everything go all right?” asked Evadne as Hilda came into the room.
“It went wonderfully,” declared Hilda. “You were absolutely right. Because we ordered early, Mr Ptolman has promised to give us a goose!”
“You see!” said Evadne. She stirred the pudding mixture vigorously.
“How’s it going?” asked Hilda, coming over to the table and staring into the bowl.
“It’s going to be marvellous,” declared Evadne. “One of my best.”
“What’s in it?” asked Hilda.
“The usual,” said Evadne. “Mixed fruit, assorted nuts, candied peel, and a pinch of dried bladderwrack for interest.”
“Sounds delicious…” said Hilda.
“And I haven’t only been making the pudding,” said Evadne. “I’ve made a full list of all foodstuffs that we’re going to need, cross-referenced with when we need to buy them.”
“My, you have been busy,” said Hilda, sitting down at the table.
Evadne spooned the mixture into a bowl, covered the top in greaseproof paper and silver foil, carried it over to the Aga and carefully placed the pudding into a pan of water to steam.
“And now—Mother!” said Evadne coming back to the kitchen table and sitting down with Hilda.
“Oh, don’t,” said Hilda. “Looking after your mother is about eighty per cent of the hard work over Christmas.”
“Yes,” said Evadne. “Which is why I’ve come up with a good excuse as to why she can’t come and stay.”
“Oh, yes..?” said Hilda.
“I’m going to be seriously ill!” said Evadne.
Hilda stared at her. “That’s sounds cheerful.”
“I will just be pretending obviously,” said Evadne. “Not anything life-threatening—just something vaguely chronic, while will last from now until the festive season is over.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Hilda, shifting awkwardly.
“Think about it, Hilda,” said Evadne. “Mother only comes here for Christmas because she knows we’re going to wait on her hand and foot. If she thinks we won’t be able to look after her—if she thinks she may, God forbid, have to look after me—we won’t see her for dust.”
“Well, it would be nice to have a Christmas where we could spoil ourselves, I have to admit,” said Hilda. “But I’m really not happy about lying to your mother.”
Evadne looked a bit uncomfortable herself. “For the plan to work, I’m afraid you’re going to have to. You’ll have to answer the phone from now until Christmas Day in case it’s Mother ringing.”
“Every time?” asked Hilda. “But when your mother calls from Acapulco, she always reverses the charges. If you get a reverse charge call from Mexico, you can just put the phone down.”
“If I put the phone down, Mother will know something’s up,” said Evadne. “No, if I’m alone in the house I won’t answer the phone at all. In all other cases, you’ll have to do it.”
“Well, all right,” said Hilda hesitantly. “But on your head be it.”
“Come along, Hilda!” called Evadne, as she put her coat on in the hallway. “We need to make an early start if we’re going to get to town before the shops are busy. I want to get as many presents as possible today.”
Hilda came hurrying down the stairs. “Yes, all right. I think I’ve got my outfit right now.”
Evadne gave her a withering look. “You’re going to be wearing a thick coat over it. What does it matter?”
Hilda staggered a little. She recovered, and straightened her back.
“My dear Evadne…” she began.
The phone began to ring.
“Well, never mind,” said Hilda. “You see who that is, and I’ll go and start the car.”
“I can’t answer the phone,” said Evadne.
Hilda gave her a bemused look.
“Mother, remember?” said Evadne.
Hilda sighed wearily. “Oh, all right.”
She strode to the phone in irritation and picked up the receiver with a flourish. “Stackton 295!”
There was a pause. Hilda turned to Evadne, who was still in the hallway. “Reverse call from Acapulco,” she whispered.
Evadne hurried into the living room, an anxious expression on her face.
Hilda concentrated intently on the receiver.
“Oh, hello, Maureen!” she said abruptly. “Yes, yes—it’s Hilda. No, I’m afraid she can’t come to the phone at the moment.” Another slight pause and Hilda gave Evadne a significant look. “Apparently she’s not too well.”
Evadne cast her eyes downwards and went to sit on the settee.
“We think it might drag on a bit,” said Hilda. She grimaced slightly. “It looks like we’re going to have to cancel Christmas—we won’t be able to have you to stay unfortunately.”
She changed the receiver to her other ear.
“What’s that? Oh, yes—Evadne’s tucked up in bed. She was looking a bit flushed so I gave her something to suck on.”
Evadne turned round and raised her eyebrows at Hilda.
Hilda put her hand over the receiver. “Cough drops,” she whispered.
“I don’t have a cold,” Evadne whispered back.
Hilda uncovered the receiver again and used the hand to give a ‘shush’ gesture.
“Sorry, Maureen?” she said. Hilda turned in anguish to Evadne. “You want to risk it and come anyway.”
Evadne shook her head vigorously and made an expansive gesture, suggesting she was handing something out. Hilda looked at her questioningly. With great irritation, Evadne repeated the gesture. Hilda covered the receiver.
“I’m infectious,” said Evadne.
“Oh, I see,” laughed Hilda. She uncovered the receiver. “That wouldn’t be wise I’m afraid. Evadne is highly infectious.” There was a pause while she listened to the reply on the other end.
“What? Me?” she said. “No, I’ve had it.” She considered the buttons on the phone. “Many times in fact.” There was another pause.
“Yes?” said Hilda. “Oh, I see. Right then. Bye. Bye, Maureen.” She replaced the receiver.
“So?” asked Evadne. “Have we got away with it?”
“She’s phoning again in a few days to see if you’re any better,” said Hilda. “She hasn’t given up the idea of coming for Christmas yet.”
“Drat!” said Evadne.
Hilda came and joined her friend on the settee. “Don’t you think we should just give in? Phone her back and tell her you’ve made a miraculous recovery. It all seems a little cruel.”
“No, Hilda,” said Evadne. “My mind is made up. It’s time for me to be the selfish one. I’m tired of running about after Mother every Christmas while she criticises every single aspect of our celebrations. Each time Mother rings I shall be even more ill, and I won’t be making a miraculous recovery until Christmas Day!”
They didn’t talk in the car. Hilda was pursing her lips in a way that Evadne knew meant she was irritated.
“Are you going to be annoyed with me all day?” said Evadne, once the car was safely parked and they were walking towards the city centre.
“I’m not annoyed,” said Hilda staring resolutely straight ahead. Evadne raised her eyebrows.
Hilda caught the look. “I just don’t like being dragged into your family dramas,” she said.
“It’s just a couple of phone calls at most,” said Evadne. She stopped walking and Hilda stopped too.
“And do you really want my mother to come for Christmas?” said Evadne. “Doing everything for her while she complains it’s not good enough?”
“No, I suppose not,” said Hilda. They started walking again.
“Anyway,” said Evadne, “you’re a fine one to talk about ‘family dramas’. What about three years ago when we went to stay at your nephew Julian’s place for Christmas? He promised us we wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Then gastric flu cuts a swathe through the staff and we end up cooking Christmas dinner for twenty-five sailors!”
“I do wish you would stop bringing that up,” snapped Hilda. “Well, I suppose you’ll be glad to hear Julian has sold his establishment, so he definitely won’t be needing us this Christmas.”
“Oh?” said Evadne.
“Yes,” said Hilda. “He’s going cruising instead.”
“Lovely…” said Evadne.
They headed for the department stores, and plunged into the Christmas shopping.
Part 2
