Hobson's Choice

1

Beg pardon.

Good job your Masons' meeting's

only once a month.

Oh...!

Aye, you're a proper old maid, Maggie,

if ever there was one.

You're leather, Maggie.

You're tough, ancient leather.

But I like leather.

- Upstairs, Father.

- Fine. Wait a minute!

Back in half an hour.

I've got a business appointment,

my dear.

I'll be back in half an hour.

Aye.

- Aye.

- Aye.

- Be over in a moment.

- Aye.

- Good morning, Maggie.

- He's not down yet, Mr Heeler.

Isn't he at breakfast?

Breakfast?

With your Masons' meeting last night?

Alice!

- I'll be back.

- Oh, dear. I wish he'd hurry up.

Are you expecting anyone, Alice?

Yes, I am,

and you know I am,

and I'll thank you both to go

when he comes.

I'm sick of Albert Prosser coming here

to make sheep's eyes at Alice.

Father won't have us go courting.

What else can they do?

If he wants to marry her,

why doesn't he do it?

- Courting must come first.

- It needn't.

Courting's like that, my lass,

all glitter and no use to nobody.

Hello, Father.

Clean handkerchief, Alice.

In top drawer, Father.

Oh, you have got this in a muddle.

Keeping muddles straight

is woman's business.

I tidied this only last week.

When your mother was alive,

things and people

were kept in proper places.

There.

You won't be much longer, will you?

We've the room to do.

You'll do this room

when I choose to leave it.

- Well, don't be much longer, then.

- Good morning, Miss Vicky.

- Morning, Mr Prosser.

Miss Hobson.

- Good morning, Miss Alice.

- Father's not gone yet.

Oh.

And what can we do for you,

Mr Prosser?

I can't say I came to buy anything,

Miss Hobson.

This is a shop, you know. We're not here

to let people go without buying.

I'll just take a pair of bootlaces.

- What size do you take in boots?

- Eights. I've small feet.

- Does that matter to laces?

- It matters to boots.

Sit down, Mr Prosser.

These uppers are a disgrace

to the legal profession.

- Alice, number eights from third rack.

- Vicky!

- Oh, dear.

- I'll be off.

Sit easy, Mr Prosser.

You're a customer now.

- You call that brushed?

- She's been at it, Father.

At it to no purpose.

If my boots aren't

what they should be...

- They are. I did them.

- Aye, we'll see.

I suppose you know that you and Alice

are making yourselves

the laughing stock of Salford.

- I don't know what you're talking about.

- I'm bringing up the question of bustles.

- Bustles?

- Aye.

Who had new dresses on last night?

I saw you out of Moonraker's parlour

- and my friend Sam Minns...

- A publican!

Aye, a publican, and as honest a man

as ever stood behind a bar.

My friend Sam Minns asked me

who you were, and well he might.

You were going down Chapel Street

with a hump added to nature behind you.

Father!

And you had the kind of waist

that's natural in wasps

but unnatural in women.

- Aye, and you held your head...

...like giraffes with a bad stiff neck,

and you were gone at the knees

and the hump was wagging,

and I say it's immodest.

It's not immodest, Father,

it's the fashion to wear bustles.

- Then the hell with the fashion.

- Father. You're not in Moonraker's now.

- Comfortable?

- Yes, very comfortable.

Father's just on ready.

- That'll be one pound, Mr Prosser.

- A pound?

Oh, money's not wasted.

Them boots will last.

Thank you.

You'd better have your old pair mended.

They'll be ready Wednesday.

Oh, I don't think I...

Thank you very much.

Good morning.

Good morning.

Maggie, I've got some business

to attend to.

I'll just be out

for about a quarter of an hour.

- Don't be late for dinner, Father.

- It's a long way off dinner time.

So that if you stay too long

in the Moonraker's, you'll be late for it.

Moonraker's?

Who said anything...

If your dinner's ruined,

it'll be your own fault.

- Well, I'll be eternally...

- Don't swear in here, Father.

No...

I'll sit down instead.

Now...

Listen to me, you three.

Providence has decreed

that you should lack a mother's hand

at the time when single girls

grow bumptious

and must have somebody to rule.

Well, I'll tell you this.

You'll not rule me!

You're not addressing

a Masons' meeting now, Father.

No, at the moment

I'm addressing a few remarks

to the rebellious females

of this household.

What I say will be listened to

and heeded!

There's been a gradual increase

of uppishness towards me...

- Morning, Miss Vicky.

Oh. Excuse me.

Some other time.

Yes, Father?

I've come to a decision

about you two.

You're gonna exercise your gifts

on some other man than me.

- You mean get married, Father?

- Exactly.

I'm gonna choose husbands

for the pair of you.

You mean we can't choose husbands

for ourselves?

You're not even fit

to choose dresses for yourselves.

You're talking a lot to Alice and Vicky,

Father, where do I come in?

- You?

- Aye.

If you're dealing husbands round,

don't I get one?

You with a husband?

Aye, that's a good one.

- Why not?

- Why not?

Maggie, I thought

you'd sense enough to know.

Well, if you want t'brutal truth,

you're past marrying age.

- I'm 30.

- Aye, 30 and shelved.

Well, all the women

can't have husbands, Maggie.

And I look to you

to take their mother's place

till I've made arrangements

for them.

- Dinner's at one, remember.

- Dinner will be when I come in for it.

I'm master here.

- Oh, I...

- Morning, Hobson.

- Morning, Mrs Hepworth. It's a grand day.

- Now, I've come here about these boots.

- Yes, Mrs Hepworth.

Well, they look very nice.

Get up, Hobson.

You look ridiculous on the floor.

- Who made these boots?

- We did. Our own make.

Will you answer a straight question?

Who made these boots?

They were made on the premises.

Young woman, you seemed to have

some sense. Can you answer me?

I think so, Mrs Hepworth,

but I'll make sure for you.

Tubby!

Did you wish to see

the identical workman, madam?

I said so.

I'm responsible

for all work turned out here.

- Yes, Miss Maggie?

- Man, did you make these boots?

- No, ma'am.

- Then who did?

Am I to question every soul in the place

before I find out?

They're Willie's making,

those, ma'am.

- Then tell Willie I want him.

- Certainly, ma'am.

- Who's Willie?

- Name of Mossop.

But I assure you if there's anything wrong,

I'm capable of making the man suffer for it.

- You Mossop?

- Yes, ma'am.

You made these boots?

Aye, I made them last week.

Take that.

- Read it.

- I...

- I'm trying.

- Bless the man. Can't you read?

It's the italics which makes it

difficult for him, Mrs Hepworth.

Now, listen to me, my man.

I'm particular about what I put on my feet.

I assure you this shall not occur again,

Mrs Hepworth.

- What shan't?

- I don't know.

Then hold your tongue.

Now, Mossop,

I've tried every shop in Manchester

and these are the best-made

pair of boots I've ever had.

Now, you make my boots in future.

- You hear that, Hobson?

- Of course he shall.

You keep that card, Mossop.

And don't you go to another shop

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