The Final Test Page #4

Do you want to read it, Syd?

Its a poem.

Eh? No not me.

Not unless its about cricket.

Cricket?

Poets dont write about cricket.

Come and help me lay the table.

Have a drink, Syd.

That I do.

- Skipper batted well, didnt he?

- Yes. So did Weller.

- Yes, after lunch.

- No wasnt so good before lunch, was he.

Nervous as a kitten.

Just like me 24 years ago, practically to the day.

And you made a hundred in your

first test match too, didnt you Dad?

- Thats right.

- And youll make a hundred tomorrow ...

... in your last, I bet.

Hutton and Crocketts too when Weller got

out like that.

If Denis had gone six I wouldnt have

fancied going in tonight, just before the end.

- It was a good catch, wasnt it.

- Good catch?

The one Weller got out to at mid-off.

If thats what you call a good catch

now I know whats wrong with your fielding.

A child of six couldnt have missed it.

Besides it wasnt mid-off it was mid-on.

Oh yes, thats right. Mid-on.

Oh for heavens sake, Reg. Havent

you learned the difference between ...

... mid-off and mid-on yet?

Well, it was a bit difficult to see

from where we were, you know Dad.

Well, they were good seats.

They cost good money.

- Oh youre back dear, thats good.

- Yes.

- What was wrong with the seats, Ethel?

- Nothing was wrong with them, why?

Well, Reg said he couldnt see very well.

Oh well, ah, now you come to mention it.

He did have rather a big man ...

... sitting in front of him.

Well, that shouldnt have made any difference.

That stand is tiered.

Well this man was very big.

He was almost a giant.

Ooh, damn, my feet, theyre terrible.

What with the heat and the crowds ...

... and queuing for that tube

for half an hour ...

... Im fair worn out.

- You said bus, didnt you Reg?

- I meant to.

Youve been giving me the tail, Reg?

You or your aunt.

- Me, Dad.

- You didnt go?

- No.

- What was the matter?

- Didnt feel well or something.

- No. I was writing, you see Dad ...

... and I forgot the time.

- Forgot the time?

- Well, thats true.

When youre writing, I cant explain it,

but you get so worked up and so ...

... oh I dont know. Its like being

drunk as I imagine it.

And its as if, as if there isnt

just isnt ... time.

Do you understand what I mean, Dad.

I might have been batting today, you know.

- Yes, I know.

- For the last time in a test match.

And I wouldnt like you to have missed that Reg.

Even if it was only just the one ball,

I wouldnt like you to have missed it.

Stupid, I know, but thats the way it is.

- You coming tomorrow?

- Well yes of course I am.

Well, youve only missed Frank Weller then.

And youll have plenty of chances

seeing him in the future.

Dad, Im awfully sorry. Really I am.

Its alright Reg.

Only the next time anything like this

happens, dont tell me any more stories.

Makes me think youre scared of me,

and I dont like that.

I dont like it a bit.

Sorry Dad.

Remember that.

- Arent you having one?

- No. Ive got to think of tomorrow.

This is good, is it Reg?

Well, I think so Dad.

Im sending it to Alexander Whitehead.

Arent you troubling, Mr Whitehead a bit too much?

Well, hes always saying in the papers

how he wants to help young poets.

Oh that reminds me. Do you mind

if we look at the television tonight?

Were doing a one act play of his,

and I do want to see it.

Yes. Oh, I like a good play ...

... especially when its short.

Suppers ready.

Good evening, Syd.

Evening, Ethel.

And if Mr Whitehead does buy that poem

of yours for 100 or so ...

Id trouble you for 15 shillings of it,

because thats what you owe me ...

... for your seat.

I hope theres enough, Sam.

Anyway, you at least had a good lunch ...

... which is more than Reggie and I did.

And what did you and Reggie have for lunch?

Tell him, Reggie. Tell him.

Well go on, silly. Tell.

You havent forgotten have you?

- Oh Auntie.

- Oh.

So youve found out have you?

Well dont blame me ...

... for having whatsoever to do with it.

Oh no. I know Ethel.

I can see that.

- Find out what?

- Never you mind.

And what was the tale you wanted

him to tell me about lunch.

- Will you be quiet.

- Fine pair.

Conspiracy in my own family.

You silly boy.

How did you give it away?

- You did.

- I did?

- Well, I like that I must say.

- You said Weller was caught by ...

... the chap who stood to the

right of the bowler.

Well, Ethel never could tell her

left hand from her right ...

... isnt that so, Ethel?

And hows the world been treating you these days?

By kind permission of the third

programme of the BBC ...

... we are presenting tonight

a comedy in one act by Alexander Whitehead ...

... entitled Follow the Turtle to my Fathers Tomb.

The cast is as follows: the part of

Godfrey is played by Valentine Dyall ...

- Alright Ethel? Make yourself at home, Syd.

- ... the part of Antonia by ...

... and before we begin I would like

to warn you that we do not consider ...

... this play suitable for children.

Oh good.

The scene in limbo.

The time is now ...

... or perhaps yesterday,

... or possibly even tomorrow.

Limbo? Wheres that?

Sort of hell.

Oh, how nice.

Come. Come.

Who are you?

Jocasta!

Clythenope!

Antonia. What do you want with me?

An answer. An answer.

We await your faithful answers.

Just as the hinge of fate ...

... wings the future like an undimmed brain.

Which of us do you allow?

Antonia? Jocasta? Clythenope? Which?

Ah. How came I here?

I suppose the surgeons knife slipped.

Somewhere in the neighbourhood of my gall bladder ...

... dividing all the gall into three parts ...

... which is now the bright sword

of the archangel Michael.

... poised over my dead skull like

a single blade of the aurora borealis.

And the swabs, which the theatre sisters

littered on the dunes of my belly ...

- Well.

- ... now litter the sky ...

... like bellying clouds.

The hiss of the anaesthetic ...

... is the whisper of an eternal wind

in the great conch of God the earth.

- Oh.

- Where am I? In hell or in heaven?

Heaven is hell, and hell is heaven.

- Such is life in death ...

- Thats the 45 bus going past.

... where one is dead but no living,

where one is alive but not dying ...

... what is anything but nothing.

Nothing. Nothing.

I thought you said this was a comedy?

Yes Auntie, of course it is.

Oh ... well, it probably

gets more comedy later on.

The scene now changes to a graveyard

in Adrian Evan.

I dont think Ill come in, Sam.

Ill say goodnight.

Alright, Syd. Im sorry about the play.

Bit above our heads, Im afraid.

I can see why they said not for children.

- Goodnight, Sam. Thanks for supper.

- Youre welcome.

- Good evening Mr Palmer.

- Evening.

- Goodnight, Sam. Good luck.

- Thank you.

Good evening Sam. Going to beat

your own record tomorrow?

I hope so.

Last orders, Ladies and Gentlemen, please.

Last orders, please.

- There you are, dear.

- Thank you.

- Hello, Sam.

- Hello.

- Another guinness, dear?

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