The Final Test Page #8

- Thats right. She tell you?

- Yes.

Would you do something for me Frank, if I asked you?

- Oh, I expect so. What?

- Tell her you cant go.

- Why?

- Never mind. Tell her.

I thought you said you werent interested.

I didnt say that.

I said we werent courting.

I get you.

- Well?

- Well, its a bit up to her, isnt it?

Its up to you too.

Oh I wouldnt like to be rude to a lady, Sam.

Of course, if she likes to tell me

the dates off, well ...

... thats a different matter.

I see. It may mean you and I

having a bit of a quarrel, Frank.

Oh, we wouldnt quarrel, Sam.

You and me? What an idea.

Dont do that, do you mind.

Clean shirt.

Okay, Sammy boy. If thats the way you want it.

Let battle commence.

In half an hours play this morning, then

England have scored 23 more runs ...

... without losing a wicket. So with

England 286, were returning to the studio.

- Thank heavens.

- Poor old Sam, hes having to wait ...

... for his knock isnt he.

Bet hes twittering up there on

that balcony, poor old chap.

- What. Sam Palmer?

- Thats right.

He such an underdog he shouldnt be playing

at all by rights. Should he?

I mean look what hes done so far this season.

Hes past it, no doubt about that.

I reckon hes got a pal ...

... on the selection board alright.

Can I have another gin and tonic please?

Isnt that funny. Were right out of gin.

But that bottle up theres nearly full.

I said, were right out of gin.

Why dont you try the Red Lion.

They serve anybody there.

Good morning.

Oh Mr Palmer, would you like me to

get you some ginger beer or something.

No thank you.

These notices are wonderful arent they.

Yes. Do you see what they said about

him when he won the Peabody Prize?

Oh yes yes, I did. The ...

The grand young man of English poetry.

Yes. That was quite a long while ago.

I say, arent you ever scared of being his secretary?

- Scared?

- I know I would be.

Id be scared to even talk to him

at all, in case I was ...

... interrupting some inspiration of his.

Youve read a new terror in my job.

I can assure you, it has ...

... quite enough terror already.

- Do you keep a dog?

- Yes.

Oh, just a minute.

Hello?

Oh, good morning Mr Ponsonby.

I expect youre ringing up about

the poem hes working on.

What?

When did you tell him this?

Are you sure, Mr Ponsonby? Because

he told me this morning that ...

... he had to finish it before

he left for America.

I see. And youre quite sure you dont

need it until the Christmas edition.

I see. Its just that you wanted him

to lunch tomorrow, is it?

Oh well, I happen to know he cant.

He has a date already. Yes.

Yes. Thank you so much Mr Ponsonby.

Goodbye.

- Can you hear voices?

- Well, I thought I did a moment ago.

I can hear them now.

What on earth can the brute be up to?

... and that one went past gullys left hand.

- Shut the door.

- ... and Porrit chasing it out there ...

... at third man. I dont think

hes going to save the second.

- No he wont save it.

- Alex, really.

Oh Im just testing out my television

set to see that ...

... its still working properly.

Do go away, dear ...

Ive got my poem to write for the New Statesman.

You know perfectly well you havent

got to finish your poem.

Mr Ponsonby just rung up and let the

cat clean out of the bag.

- Go away.

- This is Mr Palmer.

Hes been waiting a long time to see you.

How do you do.

Very nice meeting you.

- How is Bathingstoke?

- Well ... I dont know.

Ive never been there.

How extraordinary. I quite thought

you came from Bathingstoke.

Who do we know then who comes

from Bathingstoke?

A quite a different boy called Arkwright.

This is Mr Palmer.

He comes from London.

Oh really. How fascinating.

Well now what can we do for you, Mr Palmer?

- My poem.

- Your poem?

- Yes.

- Oh yes, your poem. Oh, of course yes.

Yes, Ive got it.

No I havent.

Oh well, I must have filed it.

Miss Fanshawe, fetch me Mr Arkwrights

poem from the file.

Where exactly would the file be

in which you put Mr Palmers poem?

The poetry file, dear. Its always kept in the study.

Dreadful old muddler.

- Have a cigarette.

- No thank you.

No no, of course not.

Well now, I read your poem.

I liked it very much.

I thought it more effective ...

Oh thank you.

I thought it more effective of the near ...

- Is that a wicket?

- No a boundary.

Oh thank heaven.

Hitting about like that over the field ...

... as if it wasnt a test match at all.

Were only two wickets down, you know

but we can still lose this match.

- Two wickets? Dads not been in then.

- No.

Now...

What did you say?

- I didnt say anything, Mr Whitehead.

- Yes you did. I heard you distinctly.

You said Dad.

Palmer?!

Youre Sam Palmers son?

Dear fellow. Oh my dear fellow.

Do sit down please.

What must you think of me keeping

you waiting like that.

Its all that idiotic Fanshawes fault.

Fanshawe. Fanshawe!

What on earth do you mean by not

telling me who Mr Palmer was?

- But I did.

- You did nothing of the kind, dear.

You never said he was Sam Palmers son.

Here we have Mr Palmer coming all

the way down from London ...

Why have you come down from London?

What on earth ...

... are you doing here with your

father going in ...

- ... to bat any moment at the Oval.

- I thought ...

I thought it was more important to

see you Mr Whitehead.

More important to see me?

Are you out of your senses?

Couldnt your father get you a ticket?

Oh yes, Ive got a ticket alright.

You dont mean to say youre going

to waste it. Do you realise ...

Do you realise that I applied over

... and if it hadnt been for that

idiotic Fanshawe bungling ...

... the whole thing, I should

be at the Oval now.

You wouldnt see me for dust.

I didnt bungle it. You were

unlucky in the draw. Thats all.

Well its a very funny thing that

Christopher Fry got his ticket

Thats all I can say.

Very funny indeed.

My dear young fellow,

you mustnt waste another moment.

You must rush back to London at once,

and pray youll be in time ...

... to see your father bat. You

couldnt give me a ticket, I suppose.

Well, I have got a letter to get

me into the pavilion.

I know. Ill use that and you can have my seat.

- Wonderful. Come along.

- Alex, for heavens sake.

- Alex your letters.

- Dont talk to me about letters, dear.

Ive got a ticket to the Oval.

Pull that stick will you.

Youll kill yourself.

Remember it's only a game.

Philistine!

Fool!

Really, the way some people drive.

- So you want to be a poet, do you.

- Yes Mr Whitehead.

- More than anything else.

- Very commendable.

Far too little poetry in the world.

Tell me Mr Whitehead.

Do you prefer Keats to Wordsworth?

My dear boy, you mustnt expect me

to talk about literature ...

... when theres a test match on.

My brain doesnt function properly.

Ask me if I prefer your father to

Don Bradman. Ill give you the answer.

Ive got something to confess to you Mr Whitehead.

Im afraid I dont awfully like cricket.

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