The Park

The Big Storm – Scene 1

INT – GREENHOUSE – DAY
Malcolm, Dawn and Dean are in the greenhouse cleaning gardening equipment, spades etc, with oily rags.
Outside the rain is lashing down and a big gust of wind rattles the greenhouse frame.

Malcolm – Who’d like to volunteer to polish my mattock?

Malcolm brandishes a short, sturdy metal tool.
A loud rumble of thunder is heard.

Dean -Whoa. You sure we’re safe in here Mr K?

Malcolm – We’re warm and dry, that’s the main thing.

Dean – But we’re in a metal cage. A metal coffin if lightening hits. It’ll go up like the Death Star.

Dawn – Wuss.

Dean – And we’re all holding metal tools.

Malcolm – Come on, simmer down. We’re quite safe.

There is an immense clap of thunder and a jag of lightening. They all drop their tools as if scalded.
Dawn lets out an involuntary scream. Dean turns to her.

Dean – Girl.

Dawn – Not much gets past you does it?

Dean starts to massage his head.

Dean – Does my head look big?

The others look at him as if he’s mad.

Dean – Bigger. Does it look bigger? It feels bigger. Like one of the Emos after they’ve been zapped in Revenge of the Pumpkin Heads.

Malcolm looks at Dawn, mystified.

Dawn – Arcade game.

Dean – I read that the electrical discharge from a storm can make your head swell.

Dawn – Well let’s hope it has the same effect on your brain.

A hail of raindrops beats against the glass.

Dawn – It’s looking worse by the minute out there Mr Kirby, maybe we should go somewhere safer.

Dean – Like Downing Street.

Malcolm – What?

Dean – Stands to reason Number Ten would be a safe place.

Malcolm – It’s a summer storm, not nuclear meltdown.

Dawn – You know I think I’d rather take my chances out there than in here with him.

Malcolm – Listen, storms often blow through the park. We almost never suffer any damage.

Dean – Ok. All I’m hearing is the word suffer.

Malcolm – Well of course we’ve lost a few trees over the years, and after the storm of ’95 some of our mallards were never seen again.

Dawn – But this greenhouse was ok?

Malcolm – Perfectly ok.

Dawn and Dean exchange relieved smiles.

Malcolm – Of course it was still in the storeroom at B&Q at the time. We only got it as a replacement last year.

Dean – What happened to the old one?

Malcolm – Exploded.

Dawn and Dean (together) – What?

Malcolm – A big gust must have twisted the frame out of true and under that kind of pressure the glass just explodes into smithereens. Millions of tiny shards flying everywhere. Still I’m sure that won’t happen again. We’re perfectly safe.

A strong gust of wind rattles the frame again.

Dawn – Mr Kirby, I think you’re confusing being perfectly safe with becoming a human pincushion and suffering a hideous and lingering death.

Malcolm – Am I?

Dean – Mr K we’ll have to make a run for the café.

Malcolm – I’ll need to strap my coracles down first.

Dawn looks Malcolm up and down.

Dawn (tentatively) – Can you manage a fast walk?

Malcolm – They’ll be blown from their moorings on the lake and clean into the next County.

Dawn – There’s no time for that now, we have to go

Malcolm – All right then, but in a calm and orderly manner.

There is another clap of thunder, another jag of lightening and all three bolt for the exit like lunatics rushing the asylum door.

The Park

Gunpowder, Theresa and Plot – Scene 5

CUT TO: INT – HUGO’S OFFICE – MORNING
Hugo is trying to encourage Miss Beamish out of the door. He is solicitous but firm. She is weepy, her once perky pink rinse now hangs limp down her face, and she is peppered with leaves and mud. A wisp of smoke rises from a charred Chihuahua, Bella, cradled in her arms.
Charlie hangs back, shamefaced, but otherwise untouched by the explosion.

Hugo – Miss Beamish I can assure you that my assistant will be dealt with in the appropriate manner, and the penalty will more than fit the crime, you have my word. Thank heaven little Bella suffered little more than a shock.

Hugo pulls a couple of dead leaves from Bella’s ear.

Hugo – And a quick tour of the inside of a hoover.

Miss Beamish makes to protest, but Hugo ushers her out of the door and closes it behind her.

Hugo – Thank you Miss Beamish, good day.

Hugo breathes a huge sigh of relief and turns to Charlie, who suddenly becomes animated.

Charlie – I’m sorry Mr Frankly. It won’t happen again I promise.

Hugo – Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. I can’t tell you how disappointed I am. As custodians of this park we have a sacred duty to serve and protect. To be vigilant in our guardianship of every living thing that comes through our gates.

Charlie – Even Chihuahuas?

Hugo pauses for a moment, to weigh this up.

Hugo (grudgingly) – Yes Charlie, even Chihuahuas. Now, I think my delicate handling managed to diffuse the situation, and if we’re lucky Mr Balls won’t get to hear of it. I certainly won’t be telling him, after all, there was no real harm done to the dog. Although it did look rather shaky and it’s eyes were bulging in a rather disconcerting manner but I suspect that was the case even before it got sucked into a leaf vortex. No, on this occasion Charlie you’ve been lucky, however I can’t let this go without some form of reprimand.

Charlie looks crestfallen.

Hugo – I won’t make it official, I don’t have time to fill in all the forms and heaven knows we don’t want Health and Safety sniffing around.

They both pause for a shudder.

Hugo – But I’ll be taking you off electrical equipment for a week. If it’s got a motor I don’t want you touching it.

Charlie – But it’ll take me all afternoon to rake the rest of those leaves up Mr Frankly.

Hugo – Well at least the canine population can rest easy. And what’s more Charlie, I’m afraid I’ll have to revoke the privilege of lighting the blue touch paper for tonight’s display.

Charlie looks crushed.

Hugo – Sorry lad but I have to make an example.

The Park

Gunpowder, Theresa and Plot – Scenes 3 & 4

CUT TO: EXT – VEGETABLE PLOT – MORNING
Malcolm is weeding between rows of young plants.
A loud explosion is heard in the distance and Malcolm turns suddenly at the noise.

Malcolm (To himself) – What on earth?

Dawn and Dean arrive with the trays of brownies.

Malcolm – Ah, here you are.

Malcolm takes the trays of brownies.

Malcolm – These are perfect. And Mae?

Dawn – Confused, constipated and still hell bent on spreading salmonella across the County. Why?

Malcolm – I didn’t want her asking too many questions about why I wanted these.

Dean – Why, you thinking of having a crack at the world brownie eating record Mr K?

Malcolm – Eat? Why on earth would I want to eat them?

Dawn – Silly us.

Malcolm – They’re to protect these seedlings.

Malcolm kneels down and starts to build a wall out of the brownies.

Malcolm – When I extended this plot it didn’t occur to me it would be so close to where all the fireworks would be set tonight. The last thing I want is a banger in my brassicas.

Dean – I hear you.

Dawn – It would take a W.M.D. to shift Mae’s baking.

Malcolm smiles triumphantly.

CUT TO: INT – CAFÉ – MORNING
Gloria stands patiently at the counter, cradling two hardback books.
Mae exits from the toilets, wiping her hands on her apron as she takes her place back behind the counter.

Mae – Sorry love, had to visit the little girl’s room. Took longer than intended, (whispers) I’m still a bit backed up.

Gloria shudders.

Mae – It’s been, where are we, November?

Mae starts to count silently on her fingers.

Gloria (alarmed) – Over-share.

Mae stops counting.

Gloria – Could I trouble you for a cup of tea and a slice of…

Mae moves towards the cake display rubbing her hands together.

Gloria – On second thoughts, just the tea thanks. (Brightens) I’ve only got three chapters of my book to go and I do so want to finish it before the library arrives.

She brandishes her book at Mae.

Mae – Another Barbara Cartland? You do get through them dear. How many of hers have you read now?

Gloria – Three hundred and twenty give or take.

Mae – Have you many more hundreds to go?

Gloria – Oh yes, rather.

Mae – And you don’t find them a little (pause) samey?

Gloria – Oh no. In this one the meek and mild Catherine, with a ‘C’, weds a tall, dark and ruinously handsome Mid-Shipman called Jackson. And in this one the meek and mild Katherine, with a ‘K’, marries a tall, dark and ruinously handsome Admiral called Johnson.

Mae – See I don’t know how you follow all that intricate plotting.

Gloria – Oh, but it’s as if the great Dame speaks directly to me through her books. Chin up she says, even a dowdy girl can find a husband if she sticks to her guns.

Mae – And hangs around a dockyard presumably.

Mae pulls a battered book from beneath the counter.

Mae – I’ve only ever bothered with the one book, Mrs Beaton. Now there’s a woman who could turn a pig’s ear into a nutritious snack.

Gloria – And you’ve never read anything else?

Mae – No deary, I’ve been renewing this one for 32 years now.

Gloria – But you must know it by heart.

Mae – Oh, I don’t read it. I cut out the pictures to use on the Specials Board. Today it’s Crown of Lamb with Spring Greens and Dauphinois Potatoes.

Gloria – Isn’t that awfully complicated to prepare, with only a toaster and a balloon whisk?

Mae – I dare say Gloria, but luckily I won’t have to find out.

Gloria looks puzzled.

Mae – Just because it’s on the Specials Board doesn’t mean it’s on the menu.

The Park

Gunpowder, Theresa and Plot – Scenes 1 & 2

INT – CAFÉ – MORNING
Mr Boult sits at a table, with tea and the paper.
Mae is behind the counter, singing to herself. She carefully trims all the fat off some very fatty ham, and heaps it between some pre-buttered slices of bread, making sandwiches. She puts them on a plate in the display cabinet, then looks at the lean meat left, shudders, and scrapes it onto a saucer which she places on the floor for Mr Feebles, her dog.

Mae – Waste not want not.

Dawn and Dean walk into the café and slump down at a table. Mae wanders over to them.

Mae – Hello deary. Hello young fella.

Dawn – Morning Mae.

Dawn takes sugar lumps out of a bowl on the table and starts placing them end-to-end on the table.

Dean grunts a reply.

Mae – You’re a man of few words.

Dawn – Man? The jury’s still out on that one.

Mr Boult (calls) – Well you’d know all about the machinations of the legal system.

Dawn (to Mae) – Does he ever have a good word to say about anyone?

Mae – Not since Maggie sank the Belgrano, no.

Mae indicates the sugar lumps.

Mae – Don’t play with that sugar, there’s a love, I already caught Mr Feebles with his nose in that bowl this morning.

Dawn (sighs) –
I’m counting out the days I have left of my sentence here.

Mae – Oh, we’re not so bad are we?

Mr Boult (calls) – If you can’t do the time don’t do the crime.

Mae scowls at Mr Boult.

Mae – Well some of us anyway.

Dawn –
He takes fewer prisoners than my brother, and he’s like four, with a Light Sabre.

Mae – Like four what?

Dawn – Years old.

Mae – Five then.

Dawn – What?

Behind them, Gloria enters the café and crosses to the counter.

Mae – Five is quite like four.

Dawn – It’s not a quiz Mae he’s four.

Mae – Then why didn’t you say so?

Dawn – I sort of did.

Mae – Which sort?

Dawn – The did sort of did.

Mae – Oh I haven’t got time to listen to your riddles, Gloria is in need of my culinary expertise.

Mae bustles off and Dawn and Dean exchange baffled looks.

Dean – Old people are sort of weird.

Dawn – Like stupid you mean?

At the counter, Gloria is studying the contents of Mae’s food cabinet. Mae appears.

Mae – Morning love, what can I get you?

Gloria – I was looking for some sort of fruit Mae.

Mae – The sort that is fruit or the stuff that’s like fruit but different?

Gloria looks a bit puzzled. Mr Boult arrives at the counter with his empty teacup.

Gloria – I’m committed to eating my five portions fruit and vegetables a day, five different colours, as recommended. Green, red, orange, blue and white.

Mae – Blue and white?

Mr Boult –
I think she’s been eating the crockery too.

Gloria – Well if you’ve nothing fresh how about something organic?

Mae (proudly) – Oh it’s all chemical-free.

Gloria – It is?

Mae – Yes. I always throw a tea towel over the food when I douse the cabinet with fly spray.

Gloria – I don’t think that’s quite in the spirit of the organic movement.

Mae – Don’t talk to me about movements, I’m a martyr to mine at the moment.

Mr Boult – I’m with you there madam. I waited forty minutes for a number two yesterday.

All – Eeww.

Mr Boult – Bus. The number two bus.

All – Ah.

Mr Boult – I was on my way to the inaugural meeting of a movement very dear to my heart, Pensioners Rallying Against the Teenage Scourge.

Dean – P.R.A.T.T.S.

Mr Boult – You’ll laugh on the other side of your face when we bring back National Service.

Dean attempts to laugh on the other side of his face.
Hugo enters.

Hugo – Morning all.

Mae – Morning Mr Frankly. Tea and two?

Hugo – If you please Mae.

Mae drops two slices of bread into the toaster.
Hugo turns to Dawn and Dean.

Hugo – I hope you youngsters aren’t kicking your heels in here. Guy Fawkes makes for one of the busiest days in the park calendar and I can always find you something to do.

Dawn – We’re collecting Mr Kirby’s order for 24 chocolate brownies.

Mae – Oh, I almost forgot.

Mae lifts two trays of brownies out from under the counter.
Dawn and Dean take the trays and head out the door.

Hugo – Oh, and please inform Mr Kirby that Theresa and the mobile library will be here at 2pm today.

Mae – Who knew Malcolm was such a fan of my baking? It’s enough to make my heart swell in my breast.

An embarrassed Hugo struggles to avoid glancing at Mae’s chest as she hands him his tea, and she hurriedly covers her ample bosom with her cardigan.

Mr Boult – Always room in the world for a big hearted woman Mae. Another cup of our Empire’s finest please.

Mae gives Mr Boult a very mean look and moves to the tea urn.

Mae – How are things going for the bonfire tonight Hugo?

Hugo – Fevered as always. Troy and the Tree Gang are bringing in the wood after lunch, and I’ve sent Charlie out with the leaf vacuum.

Mae – Oh. Is that wise?

Hugo – It’s a glorified hoover, nothing more.

Mr Boult – Isn’t he the fool who sliced through the pavilion electrics with a strimmer?

Hugo – Since then I’ve personally supervised his Diploma In Steering And Stopping Treacherous Electrical Resources.

Mr Boult – That spells D.I.S.A.S.T.E.R.

Hugo pauses for a moment to work it out.

Hugo – Oh he’s a bright boy, he’ll be fine.

CUT TO: EXT – PARK – MORNING.
Charlie is knelt at the business end of the leaf vacuum. He’s looking panicked, trying to insert his hand inside the nozzle. A hysterical old lady, Miss Beamish, stands beside him. She holds a dog lead, the other end of which disappears up the nozzle.

Miss Beamish (Shouts) – Bella. Bella.

A muffled bark is heard from inside the machine.

Charlie panics even more and presses all the levers in frustration. He hits one lever and the leaf bag starts to expand rapidly. Charlie and Miss Beamish exchange a fearful look.

Charlie – It’s gonna blow.

Charlie dives into the bushes.