SCFrankles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scfrankles) wrote2013-08-04 07:26 pm
scfrankles) wrote2013-08-04 07:26 pm
We Just Clicked
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.
1,039 Words
“I’m home, Hilda!” Evadne sang out from the hallway.
Hilda put down her Woman’s Weekly and watched as her companion entered the sitting room, carrying what looked like a soft briefcase.
“You look cheerful,” said Hilda.
“I’ve completed the course!” said Evadne in triumph.
“Always wise…” said Hilda.
“No, dear,” said Evadne. “The computer course at the town hall.” She showed Hilda the bag. “And Teddy has loaned me his laptop so I can practise at home.”
She sat down at her desk and withdrew the laptop from its travelling case. After opening it up, she pushed a button and watched intently as the screen came to life.
“Don’t you need to be connected to something?” asked Hilda.
“I’ve got a dongle,” said Evadne.
There was a pause.
“That’s nice,” said Hilda, hesitantly.
Evadne typed something in and then clicked on the touchpad.
“Now, look at this, Hilda,” she said.
The familiar sound of Three Little Maids from School (arranged for two voices) streamed out from the speakers.
Hilda leaned forward to look at the screen. “My goodness, is that..?”
“Yes,” beamed Evadne. “It’s from our gala evening. Buxton, 1979.” She paused Three Little Maids and clicked on what turned out to be Regular Royal Queen from the Harrogate gala evening, 1977. “There are all kinds of clips from our career – pieces of film that I thought had been lost forever.”
“Isn’t that amazing,” said Hilda. She gazed at the miniature Hinge and Bracket before her. “And don’t I look marvellous.” She patted at her golden locks. “Of course I haven’t changed much.”
Evadne sighed in exasperation. “Tomorrow I want you to come with me to Ahlers,” she said.
“Why’s that, dear?” said Hilda, still fascinated by her younger self.
“Because I am going to buy myself a computer of my own,” said Evadne, “and then we can look at these as much as we want!”
The last time they’d used the lift at Ahlers, they’d been trapped for an hour, singing excerpts from Iolanthe in order to stave off panic and madness. (When the engineer had finally managed to get the doors open he’d been greeted by two respectable elderly ladies singing: “We are dainty little fairies…”)
So they decided not to risk it, and instead took the stairs to get to the electrical department on the first floor.
When they reached the computer section, a smartly dressed, sweet-faced young man immediately stepped forward.
“Can I help you, ladies?” he asked.
“Ah, yes,” said Hilda. “My friend is looking for a lap toy. She’s been fiddling with the town clerk’s and now she’s keen to have one of her own.”
The young man looked bewildered.
“A laptop, Hilda,” sighed Evadne. She smiled at the assistant. “I’m a beginner looking for her first computer. Something simple.”
“Of course,” he said, regaining his confidence. “Let’s start with the basics. What about gigabytes?”
“Oh no, we’ve just eaten,” said Hilda. “Haven’t we, dear?” Evadne nodded in agreement.
The assistant was beginning to wonder why he’d left soft furnishings. He tried again.
“Well, you’ll want to go online, I suppose.”
“I didn’t realise there was a queue!” said Hilda looking around in surprise, before turning to Evadne. “Aren’t these Americanisms terrible..?”
“No, Hilda,” said Evadne, smirking slightly. “The gentleman means we’ll want to use the world wide internet.” She addressed the unfortunate young man. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, I suppose…” said the assistant weakly. He made an attempt to rally. “Tell you what, you explain to me exactly what you think you’ll want the computer for, and then I will select the most suitable in your price range.”
“That’s wonderful,” declared Evadne. “Isn’t it, Hilda?”
Hilda beamed at the assistant. “It’s so lovely to have a man who knows what he’s doing.”
Evadne and Hilda had been friends and companions for a very long time, but it was a big house and they both had their own interests. However, when Hilda hadn’t seen Evadne at all for three days, she began to worry.
“Evadne,” she said, tapping gently on her bedroom door. “Are you all right, dear?”
There was a muffled sort of reply.
“I knew it!” said Hilda to herself. “She’s ill. I shouldn’t have left her alone this long - I’ll never forgive myself…”
She threw the door open. And found Evadne sitting on her bed hunched over the laptop.
“Everything all right, Hilda?” she asked, glancing up briefly before returning her attention to the screen.
“You don’t mean to tell me you’ve been in here all this time using your appliance!” said Hilda striding forwards. “Looking at…” She gazed at the screen. “…herbalists’ websites.”
She forcibly removed the laptop from her friend’s grasp.
“No!” said Evadne. “Just one more pottage recipe, please!”
“You, my girl,” said Hilda, snapping the laptop shut, “have become addicted.”
With great disdain she stared down at the computer in her hands, and then at the pitiful figure of her companion.
“I will keep this for you,” she said. “And from now on you are limited to one hour a day.”
She exited the room with dignity, every ounce of her theatrical training coming into play.
Evadne put her head into her hands and sobbed.
It had been a week.
Evadne had been strong. Even though the temptation had been overwhelming she hadn’t asked for the laptop once. She had practised on the piano, done some gardening, read a little. Now that the craving had passed, she couldn’t believe how ridiculous she’d been.
She decided she was going to return the laptop to the department store. If they wouldn’t take it, she would sell it or donate it to the local school. She didn’t want it in the house a moment longer than necessary.
Filled with determination, she felt the need to tell Hilda immediately.
And then realised she hadn’t seen her friend in some days.
“Hilda..?” she said, carefully pushing open the bedroom door. There was a horrible suspicion already forming in her mind.
She entered the room cautiously. And then came abruptly to a halt.
“Oh, Hilda.”
Hilda shamefacedly closed the laptop and handed it to Evadne without looking up.
“Well,” said Evadne. “I think you may have completely worn out my dongle.”
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.
1,039 Words
“I’m home, Hilda!” Evadne sang out from the hallway.
Hilda put down her Woman’s Weekly and watched as her companion entered the sitting room, carrying what looked like a soft briefcase.
“You look cheerful,” said Hilda.
“I’ve completed the course!” said Evadne in triumph.
“Always wise…” said Hilda.
“No, dear,” said Evadne. “The computer course at the town hall.” She showed Hilda the bag. “And Teddy has loaned me his laptop so I can practise at home.”
She sat down at her desk and withdrew the laptop from its travelling case. After opening it up, she pushed a button and watched intently as the screen came to life.
“Don’t you need to be connected to something?” asked Hilda.
“I’ve got a dongle,” said Evadne.
There was a pause.
“That’s nice,” said Hilda, hesitantly.
Evadne typed something in and then clicked on the touchpad.
“Now, look at this, Hilda,” she said.
The familiar sound of Three Little Maids from School (arranged for two voices) streamed out from the speakers.
Hilda leaned forward to look at the screen. “My goodness, is that..?”
“Yes,” beamed Evadne. “It’s from our gala evening. Buxton, 1979.” She paused Three Little Maids and clicked on what turned out to be Regular Royal Queen from the Harrogate gala evening, 1977. “There are all kinds of clips from our career – pieces of film that I thought had been lost forever.”
“Isn’t that amazing,” said Hilda. She gazed at the miniature Hinge and Bracket before her. “And don’t I look marvellous.” She patted at her golden locks. “Of course I haven’t changed much.”
Evadne sighed in exasperation. “Tomorrow I want you to come with me to Ahlers,” she said.
“Why’s that, dear?” said Hilda, still fascinated by her younger self.
“Because I am going to buy myself a computer of my own,” said Evadne, “and then we can look at these as much as we want!”
The last time they’d used the lift at Ahlers, they’d been trapped for an hour, singing excerpts from Iolanthe in order to stave off panic and madness. (When the engineer had finally managed to get the doors open he’d been greeted by two respectable elderly ladies singing: “We are dainty little fairies…”)
So they decided not to risk it, and instead took the stairs to get to the electrical department on the first floor.
When they reached the computer section, a smartly dressed, sweet-faced young man immediately stepped forward.
“Can I help you, ladies?” he asked.
“Ah, yes,” said Hilda. “My friend is looking for a lap toy. She’s been fiddling with the town clerk’s and now she’s keen to have one of her own.”
The young man looked bewildered.
“A laptop, Hilda,” sighed Evadne. She smiled at the assistant. “I’m a beginner looking for her first computer. Something simple.”
“Of course,” he said, regaining his confidence. “Let’s start with the basics. What about gigabytes?”
“Oh no, we’ve just eaten,” said Hilda. “Haven’t we, dear?” Evadne nodded in agreement.
The assistant was beginning to wonder why he’d left soft furnishings. He tried again.
“Well, you’ll want to go online, I suppose.”
“I didn’t realise there was a queue!” said Hilda looking around in surprise, before turning to Evadne. “Aren’t these Americanisms terrible..?”
“No, Hilda,” said Evadne, smirking slightly. “The gentleman means we’ll want to use the world wide internet.” She addressed the unfortunate young man. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, I suppose…” said the assistant weakly. He made an attempt to rally. “Tell you what, you explain to me exactly what you think you’ll want the computer for, and then I will select the most suitable in your price range.”
“That’s wonderful,” declared Evadne. “Isn’t it, Hilda?”
Hilda beamed at the assistant. “It’s so lovely to have a man who knows what he’s doing.”
Evadne and Hilda had been friends and companions for a very long time, but it was a big house and they both had their own interests. However, when Hilda hadn’t seen Evadne at all for three days, she began to worry.
“Evadne,” she said, tapping gently on her bedroom door. “Are you all right, dear?”
There was a muffled sort of reply.
“I knew it!” said Hilda to herself. “She’s ill. I shouldn’t have left her alone this long - I’ll never forgive myself…”
She threw the door open. And found Evadne sitting on her bed hunched over the laptop.
“Everything all right, Hilda?” she asked, glancing up briefly before returning her attention to the screen.
“You don’t mean to tell me you’ve been in here all this time using your appliance!” said Hilda striding forwards. “Looking at…” She gazed at the screen. “…herbalists’ websites.”
She forcibly removed the laptop from her friend’s grasp.
“No!” said Evadne. “Just one more pottage recipe, please!”
“You, my girl,” said Hilda, snapping the laptop shut, “have become addicted.”
With great disdain she stared down at the computer in her hands, and then at the pitiful figure of her companion.
“I will keep this for you,” she said. “And from now on you are limited to one hour a day.”
She exited the room with dignity, every ounce of her theatrical training coming into play.
Evadne put her head into her hands and sobbed.
It had been a week.
Evadne had been strong. Even though the temptation had been overwhelming she hadn’t asked for the laptop once. She had practised on the piano, done some gardening, read a little. Now that the craving had passed, she couldn’t believe how ridiculous she’d been.
She decided she was going to return the laptop to the department store. If they wouldn’t take it, she would sell it or donate it to the local school. She didn’t want it in the house a moment longer than necessary.
Filled with determination, she felt the need to tell Hilda immediately.
And then realised she hadn’t seen her friend in some days.
“Hilda..?” she said, carefully pushing open the bedroom door. There was a horrible suspicion already forming in her mind.
She entered the room cautiously. And then came abruptly to a halt.
“Oh, Hilda.”
Hilda shamefacedly closed the laptop and handed it to Evadne without looking up.
“Well,” said Evadne. “I think you may have completely worn out my dongle.”