by Ian Shimwell
GORDON: We don’t talk about the old days, do we Vicky?
VICKY: Oh, no. Gordon and I like to focus on the future, because…
TRENCH: The future is bright?
SALLY-ANNE: The future’s married…
(Music with a disturbing edge closes the scene.)
(We can hear the taxi-cab engine running which then stops. A cab door is opened.)
TRENCH: Goodbye then. It was an… err pleasant evening.
SALLY-ANNE: And Vicky, we must go out alone sometime, just like the old days.
GORDON: We will see.
TAXI DRIVER: Hurry up will yer, I’m only a humble cabbie – I do have other fares to collect tonight.
VICKY: Bye, sorry.
(The door is closed and the taxi drives off. TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE remain inside the taxi.)
TRENCH: East side of Stokeham, now driver.
TAXI DRIVER: Gotcha.
SALLY-ANNE: I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! I could cheerfully kill him without any guilt whatsoever.
TRENCH: Oh, come on, Sally-Anne. I don’t think Editor Law is that bad – not really.
SALLY-ANNE: You know very well I was referring to Gordon – Gordon the control freak. He as good as tells her what she can drink and eat. I mean, she’s suddenly not even a veggie.
TRENCH: People do sometimes change their minds.
SALLY-ANNE: And she should change her husband because he has changed her.
TRENCH: Yes, and from what you had previously told me about Vicky – seeing her in person – she has obviously undergone a remarkable transformation. But why?
SALLY-ANNE: Well it’s him. It’s as if he’s almost shut off Vicky’s old life completely and pulls all her strings.
TRENCH: But why has Gordon all but destroyed her? Turned vibrant Vicky into Vicky the victim?
SALLY-ANNE: As I’ve said, he’s a control freak, Trench. A dominating force studying law has become a… dormant doormat.
TRENCH: But, at least, she still is a Law Student.
SALLY-ANNE: Is she, I wonder..?
(The taxi stops.)
TAIX DRIVER: Time for you two love birds to return to your nest?
TRENCH: A-hem.
SALLY-ANNE: Don’t even go there – and besides I’m not in the mood.
(Quirky and then thoughtful music ends the scene.)
OLD TOM: So, Trench, you and Sally-Anne dined with Vicky and Gordon, and then dropped them off from the taxi. What happened after that?
TRENCH: After some confusion, I escorted Sally-Anne to her door and then the taxi driver was good enough to take me home. Once I was in my house, I went straight upstairs to brush my teeth; then I put my pyjamas on and…
OLD TOM: I don’t want a running commentary to that extent, young man. I’m not that interested. I want to know what you have done the day after the meal – that’s today, by the way.
TRENCH: Well, I…
OLD TOM: Edited highlights only, please. One day I might surprise you and get up from this armchair and clout you one!
TRENCH: All right, keep your grey hair on.
OLD TOM: No, let me see if I can accurately deduct your activities.
TRENCH: Old Tom, I give up.
OLD TOM: Right, this morning, seeing as you’re investigating the Stokeham shoplifting spree, you probably visited the high-street shopping area. I imagine you would have spent most of the morning trying to gather information. That was, most likely, followed by a light luncheon with Sally-Anne. After that, you both managed to pluck up enough courage to visit Gordon’s hardware store on the pretence of covering the shoplifting story.
TRENCH: Old Tom, I’m speechless. How could you possibly..?
OLD TOM: First, contrary to popular belief, I can actually read. I am aware of the shop-thefts from none other than the Stokeham Herald.
TRENCH: Fair enough, but what about lunch?
OLD TOM: It’s a bit late for that now, don’t you think?
TRENCH: Not now! I mean how did you know I had a mid-day snack with Sally?
OLD TOM: Supposition. You journalists never let an opportunity of some food slip by, especially when it’s on expenses. The lovely Sally-Anne is your partner, professionally speaking of course, so it’s easy to presume you lunched with her.
TRENCH: ‘You presume a lot, Mr Bond.’ Sorry, must stop watching those films.
OLD TOM: And as for visiting the hardware store, even I wouldn’t have been able to resist that one. Such a handy excuse…
TRENCH: All that talk about food and lunch has made me feel rather peckish…
OLD TOM: There is some cake in the tin next to you. Help yourself.
TRENCH: I will, thanks.
(We hear TRENCH open the tin and happily munch on the cakes.)
TRENCH: These are quite scrumptious, actually. Even though they’re slightly stale.
OLD TOM: They are nice. Pass me one when you’re finished.
TRENCH: Oh, sorry – I’ve eat both of them. I didn’t realise…
OLD TOM: Journalists. Take that cake out of its wrapper – on your other side and put it in the tin.
(We hear TRENCH follow OLD TOM’s command.)
TRENCH: Here you are, then.
OLD TOM: Oh no, that cake is far too fresh. I’ll have to wait a good few months before I can eat it. No matter – did you unearth any useful information from Gordon at his DIY establishment?
TRENCH: Not really. All he did was describe in excruciating, boring detail his highly elaborate anti-theft devices to put-off would be pilferers.
OLD TOM: Was he… err wearing anything unusual?
TRENCH: The usual, bog-standard long brown overall like the rest of this staff – but wait, he did have it open. Yes, he was wearing a bright red belt. I thought it was odd at the time. It just didn’t go with the rest of his mundane clothes.
OLD TOM: That could be interesting, Trench.
TRENCH: So, what should I do – call the fashion police?
OLD TOM: Well, we now know the cause of dear Vicky’s abrupt change of personality.
TRENCH: We do?
OLD TOM: Gordon – and his treatment of her. So now you must focus your investigation on him. Walk into his past, get inside his head. Discover why he uses his wife as a dishcloth.
TRENCH: I’ll see what I can do.
OLD TOM: Oh, and catch this shoplifter while you’re at it.
TRENCH: Anything else, Old Tom? Like solve all local burglaries at the same time?
OLD TOM: No, young Trench. You can go, now.
TRENCH: Bye.
(TRENCH gets up to leave.)
OLD TOM: Oh, there is one more thing.
TRENCH: Yes?
OLD TOM: You owe me some cake!
(Mystery music indicates the end of Act One.)
ACT TWO
(We can hear the traffic and the pedestrians as TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE approach the high-street shops of Stokeham.)
SALLY-ANNE: Trench, do you think we are really going to catch this shoplifter red-handed?
TRENCH: We might.
SALLY-ANNE: Oh come on – didn’t we wander around the shops enough yesterday morning? It is supposed to be us girls who need this so-called retail therapy.
TRENCH: In case you hadn’t noticed, Sally-Anne – I didn’t actually buy anything.
SALLY-ANNE: That’s even worse – the dreaded window shopper! A bargain browser who doesn’t buy, err just browses.
TRENCH: All right, all right – I get the message. And the reason we’re coming back at this time is because one of the shopkeepers thought the shoplifter usually seemed to strike at lunchtime.
SALLY-ANNE: Ah-ha, I detect the influence of Oldy Tom in this. Did he put you up to it?
TRENCH: Actually, no. Old Tom was in an incredibly know-it-all mood last night, even for him so I omitted to tell him the lunchtime theory. If I had tried, he probably would have still somehow told me first!
SALLY-ANNE: The shops. Are we working undercover?
TRENCH: Just get on with it.<
br />
(Traditional detective-spy style music is played as TRENCH and SALLY-ANNE wander around the shops. As they start speaking again, the music gradually fades away.)
SALLY-ANNE: Come on, Trenchy – this is the eighth shop I’ve been dragged around and there’s no sign of any lifting, let alone any shops. Well, there is sign of shops – eight so far actually and shop signs of course. Stop me, by the way, if you think I’m babbling because I do…
TRENCH: Wait, I think there’s a commotion in men’s clothing.
SALLY-ANNE: ‘nuff said! Yes, there’s a bunch of youths surrounding who I think is the store detective. Shape yourself, let’s have a look.
TRENCH: Heh, I wasn’t the one babbling for Britain!
STORE DETECTIVE: Right, hoppit then lads, before I change my mind.
(With a few mumbles and groans, the group of lads drift away.)
TRENCH: Is there a problem here?
STORE DETECTIVE: Yes, on those empty rails over there should be six leather jackets but they’ve vanished. I thought the lads were involved but they’re clean… or too clever. Well, could you see where they would have hidden those jackets?
SALLY-ANNE: No, I suppose not.
STORE DETECTIVE: Who are you, anyway?
SALLY-ANNE: I’m Sally-Anne and this is Trench. We’re local reporters working on this very story.
STORE DETECTIVE: Harold, the store detective. Pleased to meet you.
TRENCH: Err Harold, when and where have the recent thefts taken place?
HAROLD: Hmm, there have been several – all around lunchtime, now I come to think of it.
SALLY-ANNE: And what days have the err offences happened?
HAROLD: Now, let me see. There was two last week on a Tuesday and Thursday – and today, of course. Thinking about it, every other week day… And so far we’ve lost three fake fur coats; two Armani suits and now those leather coats.
SALLY-ANNE: Well I hope he doesn’t wear them all at once!
HAROLD: Quite.
TRENCH: And you’ve checked your CCTV footage?
HAROLD: Unfortunately no, the cameras you can see are just dummies – simply a deterrent. But after this latest escapade, I’ll be urging the manager to invest in some real ones.
TRENCH: Doesn’t really help much, does it?
HAROLD: Ah, James. (He nearly shouts:) James.
JAMES: Harold, you’ve not had another..?
HAROLD: Afraid so. May I introduce you to my brother, James. He works for social services and, in fact, he has one of his young charges with him.
JAMES: Yes, hello. I’m accompanying young David here.
DAVID: Hi.
TRENCH: Hello David. Yes err James – I can see you work for social services from the badge you’re wearing. David not at school?
JAMES: (Says quietly so DAVID can’t hear him.) The poor chap simply can’t take school for the whole week, so I’m charged with keeping him occupied when he’s not there. Single mum who works syndrome.
SALLY-ANNE: Nice bag you have there, David.
DAVID: Thanks, it’s my school rucksack.
JAMES: Right, to the point of our visit. Come on David, we’d better buy that school jumper you need.
DAVID: Bye.
(Thoughtful music changes scene.)
(SALLY-ANNE and TRENCH are back in their office, typing away on their respective typewriters.)
TRENCH: So, what did you make of our shopping day?
SALLY-ANNE: Not much, I didn’t find any bargains.
TRENCH: Did you like young David?
SALLY-ANNE: Yes, he was very sweet – for a twelve year-old. But, mind you, he did have quite a big school bag.
TRENCH: Surely you’re not suggesting..?
SALLY-ANNE: And detective Harold, only he knows that the cameras don’t work.
TRENCH: Have I ever told you, Sally-Anne, that you have a nasty and suspicious mind?
SALLY-ANNE: No, but thanks for the compliment.
TRENCH: Oh, when you left me in the high-street – I went and had another chat with Gordon.
SALLY-ANNE: You didn’t.
TRENCH: I did. I span him a yarn about interviewing captains of industry.
SALLY-ANNE: Hah!
TRENCH: And he has agreed to speak with me.
SALLY-ANNE: Bully for you.
TRENCH: Oh, come on Sally-Anne. I am trying to help your friend, err… to find out if it was those lads who are in on this shoplifting ring.
SALLY-ANNE: Eh, have I lost the plot or something?
TRENCH: Hello Editor Law.
SALLY-ANNE: I understand.
EDITOR LAW: Hello my two favourite roving reporters.
SALLY-ANNE: We’re your only two roving reporters.
EDITOR LAW: Well, you know what I mean. It’s good to hear you discussing a proper story instead of chatting over a friend’s love life.
TRENCH: Oh perish the thought, Editor Law. We’d never do that.
SALLY-ANNE: Well, hardly ever…
(Quirky music ends the scene.)
(We can hear the usual background sounds associated with a pub.)
TRENCH: Here’s your pint, Gordon.
GORDON: Obliged.
TRENCH: Let’s sit in the quiet corner.
(They sit down.)
GORDON: Tell me, Trench, do you normally conduct your interviews in a pub?
TRENCH: Put it this way, it’s not that unusual.
GORDON: And what is it you want to know about this particular ‘captain of industry’?
TRENCH: Oh, we’ll come to that later. First, I would like to talk about general, background sort of things.
GORDON: All right, fire away then.
TRENCH: How long have you been married?
GORDON: Six months.
TRENCH: Is it a happy marriage?
GORDON: Hmm, yes – there’s always a period of change though, after the honeymoon. You know, one has to adapt to accommodate the other.
TRENCH: And has Vicky adapted well?
GORDON: She has some way to go yet, but she has made some progress.
TRENCH: (Says quietly:) Yeah, like changing her personality. (Then normally:) Have you changed, err adapted?
GORDON: We all have to do our bit. Shouldn’t you be writing notes? And is all this personal stuff really necessary? Shouldn’t we be talking about Stokeham’s flagship store, ‘Gordon’s DIY’?
TRENCH: We will Gordon – and as I’ve said this ‘personal stuff’ is simply background context, if you like, to place your great retail work within. And I keep my notes in here. (He taps his forehead.) I’ll type them up later.
GORDON: (Who sighs bad-temperedly before taking a sip of his beer.) Is there any other ‘background’ information you would like?
TRENCH: Is you wife’s Law degree nearing a successful conclusion?
GORDON: Here we go again. That’s her department – I don’t talk about it. This interview will have to end soon. I kind of would like to return to my shop before closing time.
TRENCH: Oh yes, I don’t need any more background – in fact I think I think I’ve got too much of it! Right, let’s talk about Gordon’s DIY.
GORDON: That’s more like it. Now, I founded the store ten years ago when I identified a gap in the…
TRENCH: That’s a wonderfully different belt you’re wearing. So bright, so red. Where did you buy it, if you don’t mind me asking? I’m sorry, Gordon – I’ve interrupted your flow, haven’t I?
GORDON: (Says in a slight daze:) It was my mother’s belt.
TRENCH: Before she gave it to you?
GORDON: Before I took it from her…
(Slightly disturbing music closes the scene.)
(TRENCH is busily typing away at his computer in his office, but abruptly stops when Sally-Anne walks in.)
TRENCH: Sally-Anne, where’ve you been?
SALLY-ANNE: Oh, I thought I’d take a leaf out of your book.
TRENCH: In case you hadn’t noticed – I’m not actually reading at the momen
t.
SALLY-ANNE: Hah.
TRENCH: Just trying to write this article.
SALLY-ANNE: Sorry to have disturbed you then.
TRENCH: Well, you have disturbed me – so there.
SALLY-ANNE: You’ve always been disturbing, Trench.
TRENCH: Listen, are you going to tell me or not?
SALLY-ANNE: I might do.
TRENCH: Hmm, Sally-Anne – have you ever suffered death by impatience?
SALLY-ANNE: Nah, I wouldn’t be able to wait for it. All right, whilst you were out gallivanting with Gordon, I visited Vicky at home, knowing of course she would be alone. Hang about, I’d better talk more quietly.
TRENCH: I’ve lost you there.
SALLY-ANNE: Editor Law doesn’t exactly approve of this line of enquiry.
TRENCH: Oh, don’t worry about him – he’s out playing golf all afternoon. So, did Vicky invite you in?
SALLY-ANNE: Considering her recent behaviour, yes surprisingly she did.
TRENCH: And was the tea hot?
SALLY-ANNE: Now, I don’t follow you.
TRENCH: Doesn’t matter, carry on.
SALLY-ANNE: Well we sat down and drunk our tea. Vicky said she couldn’t chat for long as she had to soon start making a meal for Gordon.
TRENCH: And Vicky does know how to make a meal of things, doesn’t she?
SALLY-ANNE: Trench, that’s not funny.
TRENCH: Yeah, sorry. Did you find out anything useful?
SALLY-ANNE: Well, Vicky claims she is still at university, studying Law but I spotted a name badge near her handbag bearing the legend: ‘Vicky-happy to help-Gordon’s DIY’.
TRENCH: That doesn’t mean she has necessarily quit her course.
SALLY-ANNE: I know, she might just be helping out part-time in holidays, that sort of thing, but it’s still worrying. She still refuses to talk about what we used to laughingly call ‘the old days’ even though Gordon wasn’t there. As my frustration was beginning to show, she began to usher me out. So, I asked the question: Why have you so completely changed?
TRENCH: And what was her reply?
SALLY-ANNE: ‘I have not changed – not one bit.’
TRENCH: Self delusional?
SALLY-ANNE: If we are to save my friend, from herself – and Gordon, we are going to have to find out the reason for Gordon’s compulsive, controlling behaviour by perhaps slowly remove the layers from his personality and past.
TRENCH: I’m working on it…
