As we join the extract, Joyce is once again trying to persuade Gordon that they should do a musical.
Joyce: No-one has ever given me a sensible reason why we shouldn’t tackle a musical.
Gordon: Joyce, the last time we did a musical there were complaints from the neighbouring alley cats.
Joyce: Oh, it’s very easy to pick faults, isn’t it, Gordon.
Gordon: With us, Joyce — yes, it is.
Joyce gets out an old programme.
Joyce: Look. That’s me, in 1987, in Hello Dolly. It was total sell-out.
Margaret: But the society was bigger in those days, Joyce. It had members and things. I mean, look — look at all these people - it’s not just singers, you need musicians. I can’t play anything.
Joyce: Well I can, Margaret.
Margaret: Oh? What can you play, Joyce?
Joyce: I had lessons when I was young. I was told I was very gifted.
Gordon: What can you play, Joyce?
Margaret: Stay out of this, Gordon. What can you play, Joyce?
Joyce: I don’t want to say. You’ll just try and ridicule me.
Margaret: No we wouldn’t, Joyce. Would we, Gordon?
Gordon: Try me.
Margaret: Pay no attention to him, Joyce. I didn’t know you had hidden talents.
Bernard: Bloody well hidden.
Margaret: Shut it, Bernard. Joyce?
A tense pause.
Joyce: The banjo.
Gordon: Hah!
Joyce: There is nothing wrong with the banjo, Gordon.
Gordon: No, Joyce, it’s a fine and noble instrument. I would have gone for it myself at school but, well, you know how it is with kids — the banjo course was completely over-subscribed.
Bernard: I had a crack at the trombone when I was a kid. School brass band. Still got the bugger somewhere.
Margaret: I thought you’d never be far from a U-bend.
Bernard: What?
Gordon: Fantastic thought, eh? Songs from the shows. Hum along to all your favourite melodies, accompanied by Joyce and Bernard on banjo and trombone.
Bernard: What’s she mean, U-bend?
Joyce: I’d like to make a suggestion…
Gordon: Right, if there are no meaningful suggestions, allow me to move onto item four on the agenda…
Margaret: We haven’t decided item three yet. What about our next production?
Gordon: We don’t need one, Margaret.
Margaret: What do you mean?
Gordon: I was just going through the motions, Margaret, for the sake of good old democracy. But in fact, I needn’t have wasted my breath. Because item four is ‘Any Other Business’. And all you need to minute here, Joyce, is three simple words. We’re…all…doomed.
Margaret: Meaning?
Gordon: Meaning, Margaret, this.
Margaret: What’s that?
Gordon: It’s a poster.
Margaret: I can see that, Gordon. What’s it for?
Gordon: It’s a poster for the opening production of the new amateur dramatic society here in Grimley.
A stunned silence.
Bernard: What?
Gordon: Let me spell it out for you, Bernard. The village has a new amateur dramatic society.
Others: No!
Gordon: Yes!
Another stunned pause.
Others: No!!
Gordon: Yes!!
Margaret: Little Grimley has a new amateur society?
Gordon: Well, near enough. Grimley-Upon-Neenton.
Margaret: Aha!
Gordon: What do you mean, “Aha!”?
Margaret: Grimley-Upon-Neenton is not Little Grimley, Gordon.
Gordon: It is, near as dammit.
Margaret: Oh, no it isn’t.
Bernard: Oh, yes it is!
Margaret: Oh, no it…shut up, Bernard. The two communities have very distinctive personalities, Gordon. People simply will not travel.
Gordon: It’s two miles, Margaret.
Margaret: No matter. Little Grimley is extremely parochial. Trust me, I know these things. The villagers won’t buy it.
Gordon: They’ve already bought it, Margaret. It’s a complete sell-out.
Margaret: (snatching the poster from him and examining it) What? Give me that! Grimley-Upon-Neenton Amateur Dramatic Society. GUNADS. Well I say.
Joyce: What are they doing?
Bernard: (snatching the poster) “Sex, Drugs and Rick’n’Noel.”
Margaret: Sounds absolutely ghastly.
Gordon: It’s a new musical by David Tristram.
Joyce: A musical!
Gordon: Yes, Joyce, it’s a musical. And it’s got the word sex in it. A sure-fire winner.
Bernard: (he says something totally indistinguishable, courtesy of another banana)
Gordon: Joyce, would you like to minute that?
Joyce looks flustered.
Margaret: Bernard, do you have to behave like some sort of half-starved primary ape?
Bernard: Shag off, you poncy tart.
Margaret: Did you ever consider a career in the clergy, Bernard?
Gordon: What was it exactly that you wished to contribute to the debate, Bernard?
Bernard: I was just saying, if they’ve set up a rival am-dram next door, and they’re doing a musical, and it’s got sex in the title, all in all, I reckon we’re bolloxed.
Gordon: So, you reckon we’re “bolloxed”.
Bernard: Yep. Totally.
Gordon: And does everyone else agree with Bernard’s clinical analysis of our dilemma? Joyce?
Margaret: Joyce isn’t talking to you, Gordon.
Gordon: Pity — that our little discussion should be cruelly robbed of such an intellect. Margaret?
Margaret: Well, admittedly, having a rival society in our midst may have a temporarily adverse affect on our revenue streams.
Bernard: What’s that mean?
Margaret: It means we’re completely bolloxed. (Sudden lapse into panic) These people are going to steal our audiences, Gordon.
Gordon: Margaret, we haven’t got any audiences.
Margaret: We have a loyal core.
Gordon: That’s not a core, Margaret — it’s a pip. And it’s not so loyal.
Bernard: Oh, I don’t know. Year in, year out, rain or shine, hell or high water, the bastards stay away.
Margaret: Well, it’s despicable. Who’s behind this?
Gordon: (looking flustered) Erm, a lady returning to the village after a spell of absence — ex-pro actress. Very good, by all accounts.
Margaret: Ex-pro actress indeed. I bet she did one toothpaste commercial in the fifties.
Gordon: No, trod the boards with the best of them, apparently. Caused quite a stir when she was younger.
Margaret: And how do you know so much about her?
Gordon: Because, Margaret — it’s Miriam.
A stunned silence.
Margaret: Oh, Gordon — not Miriam?
Gordon: Yes, Margaret. Miriam. She’s come back. Back, to haunt me. Back, to… (his voice trembles) Excuse me. I need some air.
Exit Gordon.
Margaret: (walking dramatically off to the side) Oh, my God! Miriam’s back!
Bernard: (shocked, head in hands) Oh, my God!
Joyce: Oh, no! (looking initially shocked in sympathy with the others, but also bewildered, she eventually plucks up courage to whisper to Bernard) Who’s Miriam?
Bernard: Haven’t got a clue.
Margaret: Miriam is Gordon’s ex-wife.
Joyce: Oh! I never knew!
Margaret: Oh, yes.
Bernard: How long’s Gordon had an ex-wife?
Margaret: Ever since she divorced him. Must be twenty years ago now. She ran off with Gordon’s leading man. Very acrimonious.
Joyce: How do you spell that?
Margaret: No, you’re not to minute this, Joyce. Gordon was severely scarred by the whole wretched experience. Poor lamb. No wonder he’s been so bad-tempered and edgy tonight.
Bernard: Oh. I just put it down to the fact that he’s always bad-tempered and edgy.
Margaret: Well, now we know. Miriam might just as well have torn open Gordon’s shirt and driven a stake into his heart.
Bernard: Why — is he a vampire?
Margaret: Joyce, I think you should apologise to Gordon for taking offence when he called you a moron.
Joyce: I’m sorry.
Margaret: No, not to me. Gordon is clearly at the absolute split-end of his emotional tether. He desperately, desperately needs our support.
Bernard: Desperately.
Margaret: Are you taking the piss, Bernard?
Bernard: Desperately.
Margaret: Well…shhh, he’s coming back.
Gordon enters, pale and drained.
Gordon: I’m sorry.
Margaret: Don’t be. We all understand. Don’t we, Bernard?
Bernard: Desperately.
Margaret: Even Joyce understands, don’t you Joyce?
Joyce: Yes, Gordon. And I want to apologise.
Gordon: What for, Joyce?
Joyce: For being called a moron. It was stupid of me.
Gordon: Oh, I wouldn’t have you any other way, Joyce.
Joyce: Thank you, Gordon.
Gordon: No, thank you, Joyce. All of you. I know that, well, we’ve had our differences in the past — petty squabbles, minor disagreements, the occasional major disagreement, isolated outbursts of physical violence — but I’ve never forgotten that, despite everything, you three have always been there. God knows, it hasn’t always been easy. In fact, I would go so far as to say, it’s never been easy. But we were a team — a family, of sorts. And you all stuck by me, through thick... (he glances at Joyce) through thick, and thin. Anyway, despite all your touching shows of loyalty, the facts remain — everything that Bernard said earlier was true. A rival society in our midst, the return of Miriam, a new musical with ‘Sex’ in the title — I think deep down, we all know what it means.
Bernard/Margaret/Joyce: We’re bolloxed.
Gordon: Precisely. I’m afraid…it’s over.
They all hang their heads. The silence is broken by a defiant Margaret.
Margaret: (very dramatically) It’s never over, until the fat lady sings.
