Hawkhead Cemetery, Paisley. Winter 1967. Morning. Phil McCann and Spanky Farrell standing among the gravestones.

Phil   Look at all this junk. If they broke it all up into chuckies you could have a gravel path from here to Death Valley and back.

Spanky   Christ, I feel hellish …

Phil   Did you drive up this morning?

Spanky   Got the train. Somebody showed us the paper after the gig.

Phil   Where are you, anyhow?

Spanky   The Barracuda … Herne Bay. Four nights. It’s murder. Christ … sorry. No, it’s not all that hot … bugger! Did you see much of the boy recently?

Phil   Just the tail end of his coffin disappearing into the furnace …

Spanky   I don’t feel too well …

Phil   Put your head between your shoulder blades and say a good Act of Contrition.

Spanky   I had to sit up all night in the guard’s van with a battalion of the Black Watch singing every number in the Top Twenty from nineteen fifty-seven … It was agony. You don’t have a drink on you, do you? God, I can still see that coffin. Did his old dear make it, d’you know?

Phil   No … Co-operative joiners, I think.

Spanky   Did his old dear make it to the crematorium, I’m asking?

Phil   Aw … No … didn’t see her. Too upset, I would imagine. Not every day your only child gets battered to death.

Spanky   Hellish, eh? Wonder what got into the guy?

Phil   Christ knows …

Spanky   What was it he used again?

Phil   A brick.

Spanky   Jesus … Did you get to have a look?

Phil   No, they took it away wrapped in a towel, I’m told. It was just an ordinary household brick … nothing special about it …

Spanky   A look at the boy.

Phil   How would I get to look at the boy? He was coming from the police mortuary, wasn’t he?

Spanky   I wonder if he was wearing his specs? I’m just trying to remember what he looks like without them …

Phil   Do they not incinerate all that sort of stuff separately? Walking frames … artificial limbs … specs … Yeh, I’m pretty certain they do. ‘There you go, Mrs McKenzie … you’ll find the remains of his personal effects in this envelope and his ashes in this one. Mind, they’re still hot. You got them? So, that’s his ashes in this one … no, hold on … his ashes are in that one and …’

Spanky   Did they know each other, d’you know?

Phil   Who?

Spanky   The boy and –

Phil   The brickie? No … I don’t think they were pals or anything …

Spanky   A knife you can understand – a hatchet even – but what was this guy doing with a brick at the swimming baths?

Phil   They weren’t in the swimming …

Spanky   No?

Phil   They were in a changing cubicle.

Spanky   Together? What were they up to in there? Christ, there’s hardly room in one of those joints to swing a …

Phil   Well, apparently there is … just.

Spanky   Jesus …

Phil   Papers described it as a crime passionel

Spanky   Yeh, I seen that …

Phil   Not, of course, to be confused with a ‘cream tea’ … though, funnily enough, the pair of them were spotted beforehand having a cosy tête-à-tête over a rock cake and warm Tizer in the City Bakeries across the road from the Baths …

Spanky   Thought you said they never knew one another?

Phil   They didn’t.

Spanky   But you’re just after …

Phil   Aaahh … No, no … they only ‘knew’ one another in the Biblical sense.

Spanky   You mean …?

Phil   Right. Pair of them went round the doors flogging gospel tracts for some Yankee evangelist outfit.

Spanky   Eh?

Phil   Neo-Baptist Non-Conformist Mormons with a toe in the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ pond, from what I can gather. It was all he could get after he got out of hospital the second time round …

Spanky   He was back inside? Jeez … I never knew that.

Phil   They didn’t seem all that concerned at him being a head case. In fact, it suited their books. Two cents commission on every pamphlet sold plus half a dollar if the client further invested in one of their tie-dye patchwork evocations of Holman Hunt’s The Light of the World in pre-shrunk faded denim.

Spanky   He should’ve stuck to his Designer’s desk … I don’t know how many times I said that to him. He even got to be a dab hand at them cabbage roses you and me always used to make a pig’s arse of … just before I chucked it. Done a beautiful one-off Axminster floral for the boss’s anniversary present that Jimmy Robertson only had to touch up a bit round the borders. Jesus, I never knew he went back into the bin …

Phil   Yeh … I had a chat with him through the bars when I was up with a box of New Berry Fruits for my old dear … oh … must be about three years ago. I was off down to London with the rejects from my Diploma Show. No idea who I was. Didn’t look a well boy at all. Head was shaved into the wood and he had on this boiler suit effort that looked as though it had once belonged to Muffin the Mule. He gave us a lend of the belt to hold my canvases together … Bastard snapped at Scotch Corner and I lost two of my best life paintings off the roof rack …

Spanky   I never knew he went back in the bin …

Phil   I reckon it was Lucille getting hitched that tipped him over the edge finally …

Spanky   What?

Phil   Lucille … getting married. You know what he was like about her … Bananas is not the word.

Spanky   Yeh …

Pause.

Phil   How is she, by the way?

Spanky   Aw … fine.

Phil   And the kids?

Spanky   Kid. We’ve only got the one.

Phil   Aw, yeh … sorry. (Slight pause.) Pity Lucille couldn’t’ve been here today.

Spanky   Jack it in, eh?

Phil   Yeh, that was what done for him mental health-wise, if you ask me … Lucille getting spliced.

Spanky   Nobody’s asking you.

Phil   You know how he used to sit and drool through the Slab Room windows at her …

Spanky   Chuck it!

Phil   As she sat there at her Sketcher’s desk slowly crossing the gams and toying with her Number Three sable …

Spanky   Chuck it, I said! Lucille had absolutely nothing to do with the boy going haywire. He was heading that road anyhow … especially after all thon stuff we done to him … no, no – correction – all the stuff you done to him.

Phil   Me?

Spanky   Well, it certainly wasn’t yours truly that dipped his noggin into the drum of Mahogany Lake, glued up his eyeball with gum arabic and sent him out into the Design Room to ask Miss Walkinshaw if she fancied going down the canteen for some black-eyed bagels with Sammy Davis Junior …

Phil   Who was it then?

Spanky   And what about that time you stapled his shirt and pullover to the waistband of his pantaloons and fed him a cake of chocolate laxative from a Five Boys wrapper?

Phil   God, I’d forgotten about that …

Spanky   Or the Staff Dance where you got him to stick a bayonet through his wrist?

Phil   That was me, was it?

Spanky   Jesus God, Lucille did everything she could to help the guy … we all did. She even went up to visit him once or twice. No … twice … I remember. Her and old Walkinshaw. For all the bloody thanks she got. It wasn’t her fault he went ape. Christ Almighty, she was even going to invite him to the bloody wedding.

Phil   That was the two of us missed it, then?

Spanky   What?

Phil   Me and Hector.

Spanky   You were in London! (Pause.)

Phil   When d’you go back down to …?

Spanky   Herne Bay. This morning. Depends if there’s a sleeper.

Phil   Then where to?

Spanky   All over the bloody shop – Sunderland, Skegness, Leamington Spa, Huddersfield … then it’s the American bases again. God …

Phil   Lucille still travel about with you?

Spanky   No.

Phil   The kid! Yeah … You never think of moving from Paisley?

Spanky   Never think of anything else.

Phil   Lucille … yeah?

Spanky   Her old lady’s here. Looks after the kid sometimes.

Phil   What age is he now?

Spanky   She. It’s a girl.

Phil   Aw … better luck next time.

Spanky   She’ll be three in November … what d’you mean, better luck next time?

Phil   Not me … it was you that always said you wanted a boy.

Spanky   What?

Phil   If you ever got married you wanted a boy. I don’t think you realised in those far-off days that it’s quite possible to beget without necessarily tying the knot.

Spanky   Pardon me if I don’t give myself a double rupture. When did I ever say that? I don’t remember saying I wanted a boy …

Phil   Course you did. The night you and me got pissed at Jack Hogg’s farewell party. Christ, you must remember Plooky Jack’s farewell party … I was in first year at the Art School and you were taking over Jacky Boy’s desk. It was in a back room at The Jolly Beggars …

Spanky   The desk?

Phil   The party … quit acting it. Hector was there. You must remember Heck being there. It was him that brought up The Jordanaires… along with a plate of fish and two pokey hats virtually intact. You were going to call this future son of yours after one of them …

Spanky   Yeh, ‘Pokey Hat’ Farrell sounds terrific, I must say.

Phil   One of The Jordanaires, ya clown.

Spanky   I don’t remember that …

Phil   They were on that Elvis album Hector brung along – the one he got for his Christmas that year …

Spanky   What Elvis album?

Phil   The one you were using as a drinks tray.

Spanky   Aw, is that what that was?

Phil   Then after we got papped out of The Jollys, you, me, and Heck went back up to Jacky Boy’s place and he had all these autographed photos sellotaped to his furniture … d’you remember now? There was Brenda Lee on the tallboy, Buddy Knox and Frankie Avalon atop the sideboard, Jo Stafford inside the wardrobe, and …

Spanky   There’s bits of it coming back to me … yeh … Aw, God … (He is feeling a bit queasy.)

Phil   Wait a minute … was one of them not supposed to be the wee guy’s second cousin or something? Hector … One of The Jordanaires …?

Spanky   So he kept saying. You didn’t believe him, did you?

Phil   I don’t know so much. It was Heck got them to sign Jack Hogg’s lavatory seat … up at the Odeon. They came across one time sans Elvis for a religious concert …

Spanky   It might’ve been true … he wasn’t a bad singer, right enough … Heck. When we let him join in, that is. Sorry … when I let him join in. You were forever thumping the back of his neck with the gumspoon …

Phil   What was it we used to sing again? Christ, it’s that long ago now …

Spanky   (sings) Your eyes are the eyes of a woman in love …

Phil   That’s the one!

Together   And, oh … how they give you away … Your eyes are the eyes of a woman in …

Phil   Sssssssshhh. Listen.

Spanky   What?

Phil   Shhh. (Pause.) Quiet, isn’t it?

Spanky   Ya bastard. You had the hairs on the back of my collar going there. God, it’s funny though …

Phil   Not half as funny as when the three of us sang it.

Spanky   No – about the wee guy being away for good …

Phil   Jack it in, eh?

Spanky   We’ll never see him again …

Phil   We could still make the charts with just the two of us. Aw, come on … you’re not going to start bubbling, kiddo …

Spanky   Hah … nobody’s called me that in ten years.

Phil   What, ‘kiddo’? I should hope not … you’re hitting thirty, for God’s sake.

Spanky   I’m twenty-nine.

Phil   Twenty-nine is hitting thirty, Spanky son.

Spanky   Christ, there’s something else … nobody’s called us that either. When you packed in Stobo’s everybody went back to calling us George … even Hector dropped the ‘Spanky’ bit …

Phil   Quite right. There’s something not quite kosher about grown men with nicknames.

Spanky   But I wasn’t a grown man … I was nineteen, a boy. It was such an abrupt change … One day I’m Spanky, the next I’m George. It was a shock to the system, Phil.

Phil   You’ll get over it, George.

Spanky   Cut it out …

Phil   What does Lucille call you?

Spanky   Depends what I call her first, doesn’t it?

Slight pause.

God, twenty-nine … Doesn’t half fly in, eh?

Phil   What’s twenty-nine?

Spanky   Old.

Phil   Not for getting murdered …

Spanky   Yeh, but in my line … I promised Lucille I’d have a Number One before I hit twenty-two … then it was twenty-five … then twenty-seven … and now it’s thirty’s the deadline …

Phil   Think you’ll manage it?

Spanky   I’ve got till the end of the month.

Phil   All the best …

Spanky   Mebbe this time though … We’ve just done a cover of ‘Mr Kite’.

Phil   Mr Who?

Spanky   ‘For the Benefit of Mr Kite’ … off the Beatles album.

Phil   Thought you were only going to record your own stuff? You and that bum guitar player from Elderslie …

Spanky   He is not bum. And he comes from Pollokshaws.

Phil   Aw … sorry.

Spanky   There’s one him and I wrote on the B side … we’ve put it in the stage act. They’ve played it a couple of times on Top Gear. You ever listen to that show.

Phil   ’S that the one that replaced Workers’ Playtime? No … I’m never up that early …

Spanky   Anyhow, Eddie thought it would be a good idea if we done one of the Beatles’ first …

Phil   Ah … then you could step in and take his place, is that the plan? How about Ringo? You and him’s about the same build. Who’s Eddie?

Spanky   New manager we’ve got.

Phil   God, we are getting serious. Guitar player’s maw jack it in, did she?

Spanky   This guy is really ace. Went to the Academy. Knows your Jim, he was telling me.

Phil   What’s his second name?

Spanky   Steeples.

Phil   Steeples? Not Big Eddie Steeples from Darkwood Crescent that’s mammy used to sell toffee-apples through their lavvy window? Jesus … fingers crossed you don’t make the big time, kid … you’d never clap eyes on a solitary tosser. You haven’t signed anything yet, I trust? Aw, no … don’t tell me.

Spanky   It’s only a contract …

Phil   Listen, son, the only ‘contracts’ Big Eddie understands is for shooting people.

Spanky   He seemed perfectly okay to me when I was in his office …

Phil   He’s a header, Big Eddie. Used to bite the kneecaps out of whippets for a giggle. What office?

Spanky   Up the City. West Nile Street …

Phil   Aw, he’s packed in the corrugated shed at the back of the slaughterhouse, has he?

Spanky   You want to see this joint … even the close’s got flock wallpaper …

Phil   He’s only after doing seven years for GBH, ya mug.

Spanky   Oh … He never mentioned that to me. He was trying to sign up Donovan at one time, you know.

Phil   What – to hang in the back window of his motor?

Spanky   He’s got quite a number of clients on his books.

Phil   And quite a few more on his conscience …

Spanky   ‘Live Acts … Recording Artists.’

Phil   There’s probably one or two of his ‘Live Acts’ in here somewhere. (Reads from gravestone.) ‘Jerry Lee McAllister … Number Two in East Kilbride … Now Upstairs with the Big Bopper …’

Spanky   He’s okay, Big Eddie.

Phil   Sure he’s okay … Eddie’s always okay … it’s you I’m worried about, pal.

Spanky   You don’t need to worry about me … I can take care of myself. God, you talk as if you knew the business inside out …

Phil   I know Eddie Steeples inside out …

Spanky   He’s going to be starting up a ‘co-operative’ …

Phil   You try collecting you ‘divvy’. He’s a crook, Spanky boy. You want to’ve resisted the temptation and signed up with a London management … or were they not all that interested in the The Sparkling Casuals?

Spanky   Aw, they’re not crooks. And you know we’ve chucked calling ourselves that stupid name … stop annoying us.

Phil   Of course … you’ve signed up with Eddie … what is it now … The Sparkling Morons?

Spanky   Shut your face, will you?

Phil   Christ, he was in 2F at the Academy, Spanks. The guy is an idiot.

Spanky   Yeah? Then what is he doing in Manchester right now?

Phil   Sunbathing?

Spanky   Only fixing it for us to appear as the Mystery Guests on a special edition of Juke Box Jury

Phil   Thought they took that rubbish off?

Spanky   They want us on with the Stones …

Phil   Aw …. you carry stones about with you? That’ll be for smashing the guitars, right?

Spanky   Just you keep an eye on the Twenty, pal. Even getting slagged on that show can shift a helluva lot of records.

Phil   (‘liftinga flat gravestone) I’ll just open this up and slide in, will I? God almighty, you and me used to sit in your living room soaking your maw’s good settee at that shite. (Sings signature tune for Juke Box Jury.) Daraa, ra, raaa … dara, dara, daraaa … ‘Hi … and on tonight’s Jury the man who put the Dick back into Doxon of Dick Green … Jack Warner. Steady, Sarge. And sitting on Jack’s helmet, the ever-lovely song thrush Miss Joan Regan – welcome, Joan, that’s an interesting gown you’re falling out of … my … And peering down Joanie’s décolletage, that rising young star of In Town Tonight and Variety Bandbox … yes, it’s Digby Wolfe … And finally, the man who knows just about everything there is to know about the music that makes today’s kids ‘groove’ … yes … it’s Jimmy Wheeler! Take it away, Jim!’ Ahyah! (Topples over with ‘heart attack.)

Spanky   Is that you?

Phil   Ah … ah … you’ll know all about it when you hit the Top Thirty, m’lad … Jesus …

Spanky   We might not get on it anyhow …

Phil   You want on it, George, you go on it. Never heed what anybody says. Never mind who laughs … if it’s what you want … you and the boys … if it’s what you and the boys want … Just one thing …

Spanky   What?

Phil   Give the face a runover with the flannel before going on camera … okay?

Spanky   Eh?

Phil   It’s a very poor advertisement for the Paisley rock scene to have one of its alumni going on the box with a manky kisser …

Spanky   What’re you talking about? I was home and had a bath before I got here …

Phil   Well, it’s either your schnozzle casting a shadow on your top lip or … ah, sorry … you’re trying to grow a moustache … sorry!

Spanky   Yeh, very good. I am growing a moustache.

Phil   No, you’re trying to grow a moustache. Moustaches’ve got hairs in them. I don’t think lugging a Hofner President about the country’s agreeing with you, son …

Spanky   Shut up, eh?

Phil   Aaahh … I’ve got it. The Beatles’ve got them. Next thing you know you’ll be sauntering into The Bobbin Bar with the wife’s loose covers on …

Spanky   Quit mocking, will you? There’s a lot of good things going down right now …

Phil   I’m sorry … I didn’t quite catch that?

Spanky   You heard …

Phil   Well, St Mirren went down into Division Two fairly recently but … aw, you’re talking about karma and all that keech? Sorry. I’m with you now, Spanks …

Spanky   That’s right … go on. Listen, there’s going to be a lot of changes … a lot of changes. A New Generation …

Phil   I don’t believe this. What have you been smoking, Youth Dew Emulsion? You’re a child of the fifties, Farrell … you’re too old for this ‘New Generation’ malarky. You grew up with sweetie coupons and Stafford Cripps, not hash cookies and fluorescent underpants.

Spanky   I’m only seventeen months older than Paul McCartney!

Phil   That is not going to see you through life, Spanky.

Spanky   You were always the bloody same, you. Mock, mock, mock. ’Many years’ve we known each other now? Twelve … something like that?

Phil   No, I’m sorry, Eamonn … I can’t quite place that one … Have a heart, I’ve only bumped into you twice in the last ten.

Spanky   And that was accidental, believe you me, pal. You were exactly the same in Stobo’s … anything you done was terrific, anything anybody else tried was up for laughs … especially me. What is it with you? Eh?

Phil   (falls to his knees) Bless me, Father, for I have sinned …

Spanky   Well, not any more, buddy boy. You’re the one the laugh’s on, Phil. Look at you. Yeh, okay, so I’m humping a crap guitar and a bunch of deadbeats round the country in a fucked-up baker’s van … what’ve you done since you quit Art College, eh?

Phil   (sings) Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker’s van …

Spanky   Couple of months in London, nineteen sixty-four, one lousy painting in the ‘Young Contemptibles’ … then it’s back home to your mammy and spongeing pints off art students so you can shoot them a load of shit about how you used to drink in the same boozer as that balloon from Edinburgh that wouldn’t know a filbert from a sash tool …

Phil   Knock it off, Spanks …

Spanky   Call yourself an artist? Christ, you’ve not even had a bloody show.

Phil   I have had a bloody show … two bloody shows as a matter of fact!

Spanky   When? First I’ve heard of it.

Phil   Well, you don’t exactly grope your way around the demi-monde of High Art, do you? Nineteen sixty-five … Van Eyk Gallery, Cardiff … and last year in Dunoon.

Spanky   Dunoon!?

Phil   Yes … Dunoon! What’re you sniggering at?

Spanky   That is sad, d’you know that? Is this the guy that cartwheeled out the door of A. F. Stobo’s Slab Room in nineteen fifty-seven to go fifteen rounds with Pablo Picasso? ‘And there goes the bell for the First Round and … oh, fuck me! It’s an uppercut from the Spanish boy but McCann is still on his feet … a left and right to the head … the young challenger is on his knees in the Blue Corner – no, he’s up – another right and left – oh, Christ, he’s down! He’s on the canvas … but hold on, folks, the Paisley featherweight is desperately trying to draw himself together – yes, he’s got the Black Prince pencil out of the trunks but the dusky Dago’s too quick for him … a left jab to the solar plexus and it’s all over! TKO, Round One!’

Phil   You’re asking for a punch in the mouth, pal!

Spanky   That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it? ‘You’re asking for a punch in the mouth, pal.’ For God’s sake, get a grip. You can’t go around punching the entire world in the mouth …

Phil   No, but I could start with you. ‘Love and Peace’ we’re getting, is it?

Spanky   All I’m saying is, that stuff’s negative … right?

Phil   Is this off a Beatles album?

Spanky   Violence is negative … positively negative …

Phil   What’ve you been taking?

Spanky   You don’t have to take anything to see how futile it all is …

Phil   We should’ve got you to have a word with the guy with the brick …

Spanky   Yeh, yeh … drop out into the old familiar territory, Phil …

Phil   I don’t think I’m hearing right. What was that remark you made in the crematorium again? Something about ‘a wee white coffin … the kind they use for toddlers’? Eh? Okay, so Hector was on the short side, but …

Spanky   I was upset!

Phil   So was I. If it had been one of them wee coffins they could’ve got Topio Gigio for one of the pall-bearers.

Spanky   You bastard.

Phil   And as for ‘dropping out’, you’re the one that’s done that, sweetheart. Chanking out C, G and F on a Hong Kong Stratocaster with a gang of zombies is not exactly what Sophocles would see as ‘Squaring it with the Cosmos’.

Spanky   And having exhibitions in Dunoon is, I suppose?

Phil   At least my work’s got something to do with reality – with the real world!

Spanky   Aw … we’ve jacked in painting wee guys with big ears and babies floating about on cotton-wool clouds?

Phil   What??

Spanky   Moved on to the harsher landscape of the Big Rock Candy Mountain and Never-Never Land, have we? I see …

Phil   What’re you talking about!

Spanky   You don’t remember the wedding present you gave us? I’m hurt, Phil …

Phil   That was below the belt, you shite. And anyhow, that was three years ago!

Spanky   Four … you can cut the innuendo!

Phil   That’s the last time you get a wedding present from me!

Spanky   I wasn’t complaining … we like the bloody thing!

Phil   It’s shit and you know it.

Spanky   We put it in Lindy’s room. Lucille’s very fond of it …

Phil   Yeh, she would be.

Spanky   Meaning what exactly?

Phil   Well, she never did have ‘impeccable’ taste, did she?

Spanky   It was you that painted the fucking thing! And watch your mouth – Lucille happens to be my wife … right?

Phil   I knew this would happen. You do somebody a favour and it comes back to haunt you! Aaaaaargh! (Falls to the ground, head in hands.)

Spanky   Och, get up, will you? Come on … Every painter’s done shit …

Phil   See!! Ahyah! Ahyah! Ahyah!

Spanky   Come on … can you see Botticelli getting up to this kind of carry on?

Phil   Leave me alone!

Spanky   Right, I’m off. You can lie there the rest of your life if you like …

Phil   Where’re you going?

Spanky   I’m off, I said.

Phil   You can’t go just like that … we’re in the middle of a trauma.

Spanky   Correction … you’re in the middle of a trauma. Me? I’m off. What the bloody hell am I doing hanging about a cemetery at half past ten in the morning, for Christ’s sake?

Phil   We’re discussing art …

Spanky   The one day off you get in seven weeks and this is it?

Phil   Yeh … most inconsiderate of the boy to go and get himself bumped off like that, I do so agree, Spanky.

Spanky   George to you. You don’t know what it’s like sitting up night after night with your head between somebody’s knees in a bloody baker’s van … the guy next to you being sick into his guitar bag … the drummer beating merry fuck out of the side-panelling ’cos he’s gobbled Christ only knows how many sheets of blotting paper … the roadie freaking out on Certofix … the slag with her legs round the driver’s neck as we hurtle through the Potteries to another ‘sellout’ gig only to discover the road map’s covered in honk and we should be two hundred miles away in Egham. And the smell! Jesus … the smell!

Phil   It sounds a riot …

Spanky   It’s no joke, I’m telling you. See you sometime, eh?

Phil   That’s it, is it!

Spanky   Eh?

Phil   We don’t see each other for four years and it’s, ‘See you sometime, eh?’

Spanky   What d’you want … a kiss?

Phil   We’ve hardly touched on the boy’s demise, for God’s sake.

Spanky   And that’s my fault?

Phil   I’m going in to see his mother … d’you want me to tell her anything?

Spanky   Yeh, yeh … tell her I’m sorry … okay?

Phil   It was her son she lost, not the fucking budgie!

Spanky   What d’you want me to say? What d’you want me to say? Tell me and I’ll say it! You’re the one that’s supposed to be eloquent! I’m sorry! That’s the best I can do! I’m sorry … right! If I’d had more warning I could’ve wrote something out for you!

Phil   I wasn’t saying that! I know you’re sorry … I’m sorry. Christ, it isn’t enough, is it?

Spanky   Nothing is ever enough for you, Phil, nothing! Tell her I’m awful sorry … how’s that? (Exits.)

Phil   I wanted to talk about it! (Pause.) Look at all this junk! (looking up) Your old dear had the right idea, kid … (Reads gravestones.) Elizabeth Boyle … 1954 … Sorely Missed. Agnes Ritchie Roberts … Now with Isobel, Raymond, Ronnie, Arthur, Henry and Little Campbell … March 12, 1951. Thomas Quick … October 8, 1957 … Goodbye. Is that it … ‘Goodbye’? Could they not’ve put ‘Goodbye, Dad’ or something? (Reads.) Aged Two Years and Seven Months. Maybe not. Still, it is a mite bald. Two years seven months …? Hardly time to learn how to pluck the wings off a frog. (Looks up.) Think yourself fortunate, Heck … there’s a kid here probably never even saw a fairy cycle much less came to work on one. (to gravestone) Keep your eyes peeled for a wee guy with blisters and a big hole in his napper … don’t lend him any of your Dinkys, you’ll never see them again. What? No, no … just somebody we used to work beside … me and the fella that just left. Three of us spent the twilight of our teens grinding up powder paint for a Design Room full of galoots battering out rug patterns not a boot in the Broadlooms from here … nineteen fifty-seven. Hey, that was the year you turned in your Tufty Club badge, Tommy son. Fancy that, eh? Yes, those were the days … when a tuppenny single was fourpence and you could go from here to Seamill for the price of a second-hand Ferrari … Yes, I remember it well … George Elrick was still doing Housewife’s Choice and Plooky Jack Hogg was just cutting his first pimple. Of course, you wouldn’t know Plooky Jack, kiddo … He was the guy in the hand-crotcheted face that sat next to Lucille … a source of constant entertainment to us Slab Boys in those far-off days. Every morning there was a fresh crop … pink ones with green heads … green ones with puce heads … and if you were really lucky … the Great Yellow … right on the tip of the snorter. We used to draw lots to see who would get to wander past his desk and casually flick it with the end of a palette knife … God, you wonder what becomes of these people, eh? Last I heard old Hoggbottom had his own remnant business … drives about Paisley in a pre-war Dodge with black windows … or so Hector was told. (Looks up.) What did you have to go and get done in for, ya wee bastard!

Lucille   (off) Is that you, George?

Phil   No, it’s me. What did you go and get killed for!?

Enter Lucille.

Lucille   George …? Oh …

Phil   Eh?

Lucille   Good God …

Phil   Lucille?

Lucille   I don’t believe it … What’re you doing here?

Phil   I came to take some rubbings …

Lucille   I thought you were in London?

Phil   Off and on. I thought you weren’t coming?

Lucille   I’m looking for George … he should’ve been home ages ago.

Phil   George?

Lucille   Have you seen him?

Phil   Ah … of course, (as if just remembering who George is) How foolish of me. Did he forget his playpiece?

Lucille   Are you ever going to grow up? I thought they might’ve knocked that out of you down there. God, you look terrible …

Phil   It’s been a harrowing morning …

Lucille   Have you seen him or haven’t you seen him?

Phil   We did toss a few casual phrases to and fro across the sarcophagi, yeah … then he went off in the huff. God, you’re still a good-looking doll, Lucille.

Lucille   See if he’s gone to that pub … what?

Phil   Something pressing was it? I can give him a message if you like?

Lucille   No. Yes … bugger! If you do see him tell him to get home straight away … Eddie Steeples phoned from Manchester.

Phil   Steeples … Steeples?

Lucille   The rest of the group are making their way from Herne Bay in the van, tell him. Oh, yeah, and say I’m going to murder him when I get a hold of him …

Phil   Any other time that might just’ve been faintly amusing …

Lucille   What? What d’you m – Oh, Christ …

Phil   (looking up) Sorry about that, Heck …

Lucille   Cut that out … you’re disgusting. If I could have come I would have.

Phil   You’re here now …

Lucille   This is an emergency!

Phil   Ah …

Lucille   I couldn’t just drop everything and come; could I? And who are you to talk? If I had come I would’ve polished my bloody shoes for a kick-off. Look at you … you’re a mess.

Phil   Thanks.

Lucille   What’d he go and get himself done in for anyhow?

Phil   I’m just waiting on a reply …

Lucille   Well, he’s better off if you ask me …

Phil   Yeh, that’s how I’d like to go … brick through the noddle.

Lucille   What!

Phil   That’s how he got killed … didn’t you know?

Lucille   I thought it was a knife … Somebody said he got knifed in a homosexual toilet.

Phil   Yeh … granted that would have been marginally more apposite, but a brick it was, I’m afraid. What’s a ‘homosexual toilet’, by the way?

Lucille   You know what I mean …

Phil   Anyway, it was the Baths … where it happened. In one of the changing booths.

Lucille   God …

Phil   Guy was a header apparently …

Lucille   Yeh, I know … Miss Walkinshaw and I went up to visit him a couple of times.

Phil   The other guy…

Lucille   Oh …

Phil   Don’t you read the papers?

Lucille   I couldn’t …

Phil   He was apprehended on board the Finnieston Ferry trying to get his leg over the Purser.

Lucille   Stop it, will you! I only came here to look for George … It’s not my fault the guy’s dead. Well, is it? And stop looking at me like that!

Phil   How am I looking at you? I’m only looking at you. How should I be looking at you?

Lucille   Honest to God, it’s embarrassing … I wouldn’t have come but for my mum. What’s a man of thirty doing playing rock ’n’ roll for anyhow?

Phil   Twenty-nine, doll …

Lucille   Twenty-nine then – it’s still bloody embarrassing.

Phil   You never know – he might make it yet.

Lucille   And you know who’s to blame, don’t you?

Phil   For what? That he hasn’t had his kisser on the front of the Melody Maker so far? He wants to get along to the nearest Tao clinic and have that unsightly superfluous hair removed from his upper lip. That’s what’s holding him back, if you ask me. They do it with hypnosis … and a red-hot poker.

Lucille   You know damn fine what I mean … filling his head with all this stupid nonsense about ‘making it’. It’s been going on for years. I’m sick to death of it. I wouldn’t care if he was happy, but I don’t know if you’ve ever sat up half the night listening to somebody vomiting down the lavatory just because they’ve got a gig in some Masonic Hall in Lochearnhead, Lochgoilhead, or bloody Budleigh Salterton …

Phil   Still at it, is he? He should’ve taken that up instead of the banjo … Hey, where’re you going, Lucille?

Lucille   You’re exactly the same as you were ten years ago … only worse!

Phil   No, don’t go … I’m sorry …

Lucille   Let go my arm.

Phil   I said I was sorry …

Lucille   My arm, I said.

Phil   Listen, there’s something I want to tell you.

Lucille   What is it with you? Let go! You’re hurting me.

Phil   Look at me.

Lucille   Look at me what?

Phil   Look at me and tell me you haven’t thought of me in ten years.

Lucille   What? I do not believe this …

Phil   Tell me!

Lucille   Tell you what?

Phil   I’ve thought about you … a lot.

Lucille   Yeh, fine … we’ll send your prize on to you … now let go my arm … please.

Phil   I’ve never stopped thinking about you …

Lucille   Is it being in a graveyard that’s doing this to you?

Phil   Cut the jokes … I’m serious. Well?

Lucille   You keep saying ‘Well?’ You keep asking me questions … you keep staring at me … What am I supposed to say? Tell me and I’ll say it!

Phil   I love you, for Christ’s sake.

Lucille   Ow!

Phil   Sorry … (Lets go her arm.)

Lucille   That was really sore …

Phil   Didn’t you hear what I said?

Lucille   I’ve just had this coat cleaned.

Phil   I’ve just told you I love you … after ten years. You could say something.

Lucille   (shaking arm) I don’t think I’ve any feeling left …

Phil   I did try to phone you one time but I was drunk …

Lucille   You’re not drunk now, are you?

Phil   Then you went and got married to Spanky … sorry … George. What did you go and do that for?

Lucille   I’d just had my hair done that day. What d’you think I did it for? And you’ve cut off the circulation in this!

Phil   I remember waking up in this flat in Harlesden … the wireless was on and this guy was talking to one of the Beatles … then he played ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand’ … twenty-second of February, nineteen sixty-four … that’s when it hit me. Like a ton of bricks …

Lucille gives a glance heavenwards.

I was in love!

Lucille   Who with … John, Paul, George or …?

Phil   You! I was in love with you!

Lucille   Weren’t you always?

Phil   No …

Lucille   Thanks a million …

Phil   I thought, Jesus … is this how it feels? I felt as if somebody had punched a big hole in my skull and the sun was shining in … I felt terrific and terrible at the same time …

Lucille   You could sell that one to Hallmark Cards …

Phil   Listen to me. For the first time I can remember I was actually caught unawares … I wasn’t even thinking about you.

Lucille   I’m supposed to be flattered by all this?

Phil   I felt something I never expected to feel …

Lucille   Look, I’ll have to go …

Phil   Hold on!

Lucille   Would you mind grabbing the other one this time?

Phil   C’mere …

Lucille   C’mere what?

Phil   Just c’mere…

Lucille   I’ve got to get back …

Phil   I love you …

Lucille   Mind out for my arm.

They embrace.

What took you so long?

Phil   To let go your arm?

Lucille   To tell me …?

Phil   I’m telling you now.

Lucille   I could kill you …

Phil   Kill me …

They embrace even more passionately.

Lucille   What do we do now?

Phil   I’ve got a coat … (Starts taking it off.)

Lucille   About George?

Phil   You’re not thinking of telling him, are you? (Lays coat on ground.) I mean, not straight away?

Lucille   I’ve got to. Eddie’s not going to be phoning again – he was in a call box …

Phil   Eh?

Lucille   It’s really important to him … him and the boys. This could be their big chance.

Phil   Yeh … there’s nothing like getting everything into perspective, is there? Bloody hell, you’re just after going on about how stupid it all was …

Lucille   Yeh, I know … but at least this’ll put the lid on it once and for all. Either he breaks into the Big Time and the past three and a half years have been worth it or he jacks it in, flogs that stupid guitar, and goes back to Stobo’s.

Phil   Aw, yeah? ‘Welcome home, Spanky-stroke-George, we’ve had one of the juniors keeping your desk warm for you. Sorry to hear you made an absolute wombat’s udder of it … seen you on Juke Box Jury … say no more, eh? Would you like Miss Walkinshaw to fetch you a wee mouthful of humble pie in her toothmug?’

Lucille   Anything’s better than being a bloody waster.

Phil   Like me, you mean?

Lucille   I never said that.

Phil   You don’t need to say it …

Lucille   Look, I’ll have to go … I’ve left Lindy with my Mum …

Phil   That’s it then, is it?

Lucille   I’ve got to …

Enter Jack Hogg.

Jack   Hello? Excuse me …?

Phil   When will I see you?

Jack   Excuse me…

Lucille   I’m not sure …

Jack   Could you tell me which way to the crematorium?

Phil   Christ, who’s this?

Jack   There’s a sign pointing up that way but … good heavens, Lucille …

Lucille   Hello, Jack … excuse me, I’m just going …

Jack   I’m not too late, am I? I’m sure the paper said …

Phil   What is this, the Magic Grotto? Plooky Jack … minus the plooks …

Jack   Sorry … should I know you? Oh, God … I might have known.

Phil   Hey, don’t go, Lucille …

Lucille   Nice seeing you again, Jack.

Jack   How’s Georgie?

Phil   Lucille …

Jack   Knock me down with a soggy test strip, I never expected to bump into you again … bugger me, eh? How’ve you been?

Phil   Lucille …

Jack   Sorry, did I interrupt something?

Phil   You, Jack?

Jack   How long has it been … seven years – eight even?

Phil   Ten.

Jack   You’re kidding. Really? As much as that, eh? You’re looking well …

Phil   You think so?

Jack   That is not a bad bit of material. Terylene, isn’t it?

Phil   What?

Jack   Tend to bring me out in a rash, man-made fibres. Best of barathea this – (referring to his own coat)– half-lined, one hundred per cent silk … Suit’s cashmere, wouldn’t wear anything else … What time do we get rolling? Eleven isn’t it? The lad’s send-off.

Phil   The lad’s been sent off, Jack.

Jack   I wonder if Willie Curry’ll turn up? He did for old Elsie Walkinshaw’s mother. Well, I suppose we better tag along after Lucille… she seemed to know where she was going. Dreadful business this, eh? I didn’t know a damn thing about it till I set foot in the shop this morning. One of the girls showed me the newspaper. Just back from Harrogate … Woollen Fair annual junket. Got absolutely stinko on the overnight train.

Phil   You’re not listening, Jack … the lad’s been sent off. And this is not Terylene.

Jack   You’re joking. Let me feel. Bugger me, I could’ve sworn.

Phil   Ten o’clock …

Jack   Yes, that was quite a good year for Terylene.

Phil   D’you mind?

Jack   What size chest are you if you don’t mind my asking? Forty … somewhere around that area? Got some beautiful blazers coming into the shop this morning. Italian. Hand-stitched lapels. Pop in and try one on when you’ve got a few minutes to spare. (Gives Phil a card.) One of the girls’ll look after you if I’m not there … here, I’ll stick the old nom-de-plume on that.

Phil   Keep it, Jack.

Jack   No, no … give you a nice discount. Ten, did you say? Shit. There you go … ask for Morag. How’d it go? The lad’s whatsit?

Phil   How did you expect it to go? It was miserable.

Jack   I was only asking. No cause to get narked. Pity. I would’ve liked to’ve seen some of the old familiar faces. Quite a few from the Design Room there, were there?

Phil   There was nobody there, Jack. Just me and Spanky Farrell … that was all.

Jack   Bugger me. What was it took him off, anyway? Godstruth, he was hardly any age at all … what … twenty-eight … twenty-nine? I know he had respiratory problems at one point.

Phil   Especially when he got his head stove in.

Jack   He got what?

Phil   Suffering God, this is getting more and more like bloody Cluedo. The victim … Hector … the boy whose puny remains have just been done to a turn at Gas Mark Seven … was murdered by a blow to the head with a blunt instrument, to wit … one household brick …

Jack   Bugger me …

Phil   You want locus and perpetrator as well?

Jack   All it said was ‘Hector McKenzie. Suddenly on Tuesday.’

Phil   Well, it’s hardly going to say ‘Done in with a brick. No Flowers,’ is it?

Jack   I suppose that’s why the delay … of course … Post mortem, right?

Phil   Hardly needed much of a post mortem, his napper crushed like a nut.

Jack   You saw him?

Phil   I saw the brick. Or at least, I saw a photograph of the brick … Paisley Express. Breeze block … about this size. Hector must’ve given the guy a hand to carry it into the Baths.

Jack   They know who did it, then?

Phil   Caught the guy.

Jack   Bugger me … who would want to do a thing like that? I wish I’d known. God, suddenly I don’t feel so good … (Makes to sit.)

Phil   Uh, uh … you’re just about to sit on our wee chum.

Jack   What?

Phil   Tommy Quick. Here … have a squat on Betty Boyle … Sorely Missed. (Helps Jack.)

Jack   Thanks … (Sits.)

Phil   Mind the cashmeres on the pigeon shite.

Jack   I feel as though I want to throw up …

Phil   I felt the same when I first heard. Feel free, Jacky Boy.

Jack   Murdered? It doesn’t seem possible somehow… Him and I got quite pally towards the end … before I quit, that is. Got him a fair-sized discount on a nice pair of tweed slacks, I remember. You don’t happen to know offhand what he was wearing when …? No … I don’t expect you would. Bugger me, I wish I hadn’t had that egg now …

Phil   Fried, was it?

Jack   Yolk was runny.

Phil   I would take off the barathea topcoat if I was you.

Jack   It conjures up such a horrible picture.

Phil   Just let her rip, Jack.

Jack   Oooooohhhhh … (Is sick behind gravestone.)

Phil   Did you get the entire egg up?

Jack   Bugger me … aw …

Phil   D’you want a hanky? (Holds out a handkerchief.)

Jack   Ta. (Wipes hands and face.)

Phil   No … you hold on to it. So, how’s the remnant business doing?

Jack   Gent’s outfitting … I gave you a card.

Phil   So you did… (Takes it from breast pocket.) ‘Jack’s’. What gave you the idea for the name?

Jack   He sat right next to me … after he got his promotion that time … Between me and Miss Walkinshaw. She’ll be choked. She wasn’t at the service, was she?

Phil   There was me, Spanky Farrell, the undertaker, and a bloke modelling hairshirts.

Jack   Was his mother there?

Phil   Yeh … she strolled in at half-time and gave us ‘Sonny Boy’ on the nose-flute. What d’you think?

Jack   Bugger me. I don’t know anybody that’s ever been murdered before.

Phil   That’s one for the diary, then.

Jack   You forgot about Lucille.

Phil   Don’t be soft. She only came looking for hubby.

Jack   Oh …

Phil   The Sparkling Casuals or whatever they’re calling themselves nowadays’ve to be on Juke Box Jury.

Jack   Eh? I thought they’d scrapped that? You’re joking.

Phil   Would that I were, Jack.

Jack   What’re they doing for outfits?

Phil   What were you thinking of … some nice eye-catching off-the-shoulder slightly shop-soiled ‘Barrier Reef’ overcoats?

Jack   They’ll want to look their best, surely?

Phil   That’s true. You want to get a hold of their management, Jack … They’ve just signed up with Eddie Steeples.

Jack   Steeples? Where’ve I heard that name before?

Phil   He’s got premises in West Nile Street.

Jack   You know him, do you? (Takes out a pocket diary.)

Phil   Vaguely. Ex-Paisley Grammar … nice quiet big chap. Does a fair amount of prison-visiting, I hear … He’ll be in the book …

Jack   Right …

Phil   No … hang on … he’s down in Manchester at the moment. TV studios. They should be able to put you in touch with him …

Jack   Bugger me, I’m going to Manchester tomorrow … (Holds out diary.)

Phil   Couldn’t’ve worked out better. What about some of them Tally blazers you’re getting in?

Jack   The very dab … I could chuck some in the car …

Phil   Good advert for you …

Jack   Just what I’m thinking. And we’ve got some very nice flares in just now…

Phil   You could get some big labels printed… ‘Jacks’s Remnants … Three Doors Down from Crichton the Butcher’.

Jack   I mean, I wouldn’t charge their management full price … how many are in the group, d’you know?

Phil   Twelve, I think.

Jack   Come on … how many?

Phil   Not counting the hunchback? Let me see …

Jack   Now you are kidding. Come on … there isn’t a … you know … is there?

Phil   You not got a blazer that would fit him?

Jack   They’re off-the-peg …

Phil   Just leave the peg in one of them …

Jack   You don’t know of a phone box about here, do you?

Phil   ’S this to apologise to Hector for being late?

Jack   Stop reminding me, will you? I feel bad enough as it is … To ring this chap …

Phil   Steeples.

Jack   I think I passed one at the foot of the road … (Starts getting up.)

Phil   I think you may also have passed one on Betty Boyle … Sorely Missed …

Jack   Eh?

Phil   No … sorry … it was a pigeon. Give us a look at the arse of your cashmeres …

Jack   Oh, no … are they manky?

Phil   Hold on … (Rubs his hand in some muck and wipes the seat of Jack’s trousers.) There …

Jack   Ta …

Phil   My pleasure, Jack …

Jack   By the by, how’s the old painting going? I hear you had some sort of show in Dunoon just recently …

Phil   You would …

Jack   We must have a chat about maybe getting you to do something for the shop … sort of ‘fresco’ thing perhaps. Along those lines, anyway … Well, stick in. You never know, eh?

Phil   Thanks, Jack.

Jack   Right, I best get up the road … got a lunch date with some reps …

Phil   Don’t forget that phone call.

Jack   You kidding? Hey, tell me something …

Phil   What?

Jack   Is it true that you wangled your way into Art College that second time?

Phil   What!

Jack   No, no, don’t get me wrong … pardonnez moi … That’s what your chum told everyone … straight from the horse’s mouth, he said. Not that I believed a word of it, but there were plenty of others that did … you know what they’re like in Stobo’s. Well, so long … nice seeing you again.

Phil   The bastard!

Jack   I just wish I’d known about the lad … Bugger me, eh? (Moves off.)

Phil   Yeh … bugger you, Jacky Boy…

Jack   Ciao.

Phil   Bugger the lot of you. Heh, you never told us how you got shot of the plooks.

Jack   Sorry?

Phil   Nothing. I just hope you catch something off that telephone call.

Exit Jack.

The bastard … Wangled my way in?? The bastard … The jealous bastard. I only sat up every bloody night for three solid months getting a bloody portfolio together after that first fiasco … Three solid months … Every night for three months and what d’you get? If I ever see that bastard again …

Enter Spanky.

Spanky   Who’re you talking to?

Phil   Aw … you’re back?

Spanky   I’ve lost my bloody train ticket. Halfway to The Jolly Beggars, dives into the pocket for a fag … nothing. You haven’t seen it kicking about, have you?

Phil   Never heed the ticket … I’ve got something to discuss with you, Farrell …

Spanky   It was inside a see-through, half-timbered, plastic wallet with ‘Tudor Travel’ on the front …

Phil   Just what were you telling that bunch of arsebags about me getting into Art School that time? Eh?

Spanky   What bunch of arsebags? Going to lift your feet a minute?

Phil   That bunch of clowns from the Design Room …

Spanky   Aw, yeah …? (Carries on hunting for ticket.)

Phil   Yeah … Jack Hogg was saying …

Spanky   ’S not under your coat, is it?

Phil’s coat is still lying on the ground.

Phil   Hang off that and listen to me, will you!

Spanky   What is it?

Phil   I’ve a good mind to punch you in the mouth, pal!

Spanky   What the bloody hell’s up with you now?

Phil   I’ll tell you what’s up … three solid months, that’s what’s bloody up! And quit shouting, will you! You’re in the Garden of Remembrance!

Spanky   Well, I wish to Christ I could remember what I done with that ticket!

Phil   Bugger your bloody ticket … and give us that coat! (Snatches coat.)

Spanky   I wish to God I could fathom what’s biting you. Here, you’ve dropped your scarf … (Picks up brightly coloured scarf which Lucille has left behind.)

Phil   You thank your lucky stars you’re in a cemetery, boy, otherwise I’d …

Spanky   Hold on … hold on … (Staring at scarf in hand.) Where did you get this?

Phil   Get what?

Spanky   This … this! You’ve been seeing her, haven’t you! Haven’t you? (Grabs Phil.)

Phil   Seeing who? What’re you doing!

Spanky   What’ve you been up to, ya bastard!

Phil   Hey!!

Spanky   I bought her this in Wakefield … how long has this been going on, eh? She’s been here, hasn’t she!? Hasn’t she?

Phil   You’re choking me! Who’s been here? Ahyah!

Spanky   I might’ve guessed … what the fuck was she doing here … you fucking pig, Phil!!

Phil   She came looking for you, ya moron! Hang off! What the fuck’re you doing! Hang off, will you! Ahyah! Something about your manager phoning! Let us go!

Spanky   You’re a liar! You would’ve said straight away … I’m going to kill you!

Phil   It’s true … it’s true … honest to God … I was going to tell you after I punched you in the mouth … aaaaaaaargh!

Spanky   The only mouth that’s going to get punched is yours, ya lousy double-dealing bastard!

Enter Lucille.

Lucille   George!

Phil   Thank Christ …

Lucille   What the hell d’you think you’re doing?

Spanky   You stay back, ya bitch! Think I’m stupid, do you! I know what you’ve been up to!!

Lucille   Have you told him!

Phil   About Juke Box Jury? Yeh … but I don’t think he believes me … ahyah!

Lucille   Let him go, George Farrell!

Spanky   Eh? What about Juke Box Jury?

Lucille   Eddie phoned …

Phil   See?

Lucille   I came looking for you and he said you were away to the pub so …

Spanky   Aw, Jesus …

Lucille   What were you calling me a bitch for?

Spanky   Aw, Christ …

Phil   Going to quit strangling me now?

Spanky   Aw, Jesus …

Lucille   Eh? And what in God’s name are you pair fighting about? You’re rolling about there like a couple of two-year-olds.

Phil   We weren’t fighting … he was choking me to death.

Spanky   Look, Phil … Aw, God … look, I’m really sorry. What can I say? Jesus …

Lucille   Never mind about him just now … you’ve to get down to Manchester straight away for a test …

Spanky   Test?

Lucille   You don’t imagine they’re going to shove the lot of you straight in front of a camera, do you? Be sensible. One of you could be a hunchback for all they know … and what’re you doing with that scarf? Give us that … you’re bad enough with that moustache … Don’t you go wearing anything stupid if you do get on, d’you hear me? You weren’t thinking of knotting this round your head, were you?

Spanky   At this moment I feel like knotting it round my throat … What can I say, Phil?

Phil   Just say ‘cheerio’ and beat it …

Spanky   Listen, I’m really sorry, Lucille …

Lucille   What’re you apologising to me for? It was him you were asphyxiating. Here … (Hands him car keys.) You’ll need to put more petrol in. And phone me, right?

Spanky   Right.

Lucille   The rest of the boys are making their way from the Barracuda Club. You’ve all to meet up at the BBC studios not later than half-four … and don’t go building up your hopes, you know you take a lousy snap …

Phil   And if Eddie Steeples tries to force you into blazers tell him where to shove them …

Spanky   Blazers?

Lucille   Get moving … it’s almost half-eleven. I’ll say ’bye to Lindy for you.

Spanky   Right. Right …

Phil   Good luck, kiddo.

Spanky   Jeez, I’m sorry about that mix-up, Phil … still pals? (to Lucille) Say ’bye to Lindy for us …

Lucille   Will you go, George!

Spanky   I’m going … I’m going.

Lucille   The car’s at the front gates …

Spanky   You don’t want dropped off … no?

Lucille   Lindy’s at my mum’s … I’ll get the bus. Hurry up, will you!

Spanky   Great.

Phil   We’ll be watching for you …

Lucille   Don’t forget to phone me!

Phil   See you sometime, eh!

Spanky   (cheerily) Bastard. (Exits. Off) Yahoooooooo …

Phil   Jesus … (Sits.)

Lucille   What the bloody hell happened!

Phil   He found your scarf.

Lucille   That much I had gathered …

Phil   Look … I’m shaking like a leaf …

Lucille   What d’you think I’m doing …?

Phil   God, my throat. Must be playing that guitar every night … What in Christ’s name did you come back for? Not that I’m not grateful, you understand …

Lucille   I had to make sure. It was only when I was in the car that it got through to me …

Phil   What did?

Lucille   You said you loved me.

Phil   Did I?

Lucille   Phil McCann!

Phil   I’m being jocund, doll. A set of fingers round the windpipe does that to a chap.

Lucille   He’s away now …

Spanky   I wouldn’t be too sure. He’s probably just away to get the starting handle to beat the living dung out of me …

Lucille   Tell me again …

Phil   He’s probably just away to get the starting handle to beat the …

Lucille   Tell me properly!

Phil   Ow!

Lucille   Say it!

Phil   Okay, okay … I love you.

Lucille   Say it right!

Phil   I love you, Lucille …

Lucille   I love you too …

They embrace. Enter Jack Hogg with a selection of blazers.

Jack   Hell … o.

Phil   Christ!

Lucille   Hell!

Jack   It’s only me.

Phil   What’re you playing at, creeping up on people!

Jack   I wasn’t creeping … it’s these shoes… vulcanised crepe welded to a doeskin upper. Hi, Lucille … that’s a very nice outfit, if I may say so …

Lucille   What do you want, Jack?

Jack   I just remembered I had a few samples in the back of the bus. I thought you … er … I thought maybe … (to Phil) Would you like to try one on?

Phil   Me?

Lucille   (to Phil) Did you not mention something to George about blazers?

Jack   I spoke to the wardrobe mistress in Manchester … terribly nice woman … said if I’d like to drop them in sometime tomorrow …

Lucille   What is this?

Phil   Eddie Steeples wants The Casuals to wear blazers on the show …

Lucille   How d’you know that?

Phil   Free blazers?

Jack   Here, try this one …

Phil   What’re you doing?

Jack is helping Phil off with his jacket.

Get to …

Lucille   You’re not going down to Manchester, are you, Jack?

Jack   Tomorrow lunchtime …

Lucille   (to Phil) Get the blazer on.

Phil   Eh?

Jack   ‘Venice Blue’. (helping him on with blazer)

Phil   It feels damp.

Lucille   What other colours’ve you got, Jack?

Phil   This is bloody ludicrous …

Lucille   Shut up.

Jack   Oh … ‘Palermo’ … that’s a sort of greeny grey … ‘Sienna’ … nice shade of donkey brown, that … ‘Napoli’ … and of course black … ‘Nero’. There, how’s that?

Lucille   Que bella.

Phil   Have they never heard of oxters, the Tallies?

Jack   D’you think he’d fancy a set of bells?

Lucille   I’ll ask. (to Phil) D’you fancy a set of bells?

Phil   A set of what?

Lucille   (to Jack) No … a nice gold pendant, I think.

Jack   No, for Georgie.

Lucille   Oh … Would those not go better with kaftans, no? Sort of temple bells are we talking about?

Jack   No … polyester mix …

Phil and Lucille   Eh?

Jack   Four shades … self-support waist … graduated flare …

Lucille   Yeh … yeh … why not? That would be really nice, Jack, (to Phil) Cut it out.

Jack   Right … terrific … (to Phil) No, no … keep it on. If you and Lucille decide you like it you can settle up any time … no rush. Otherwise drop it into the shop … Tuesday’s our half-day.

Lucille   He likes it.

Phil   It’s horrendous.

Jack   Any message for Georgie boy? Just in case we bump into each other down by …

Lucille   Did you say you had a few more of these in stock, Jack?

Jack   (to Phil) You really suit that colour … brings out the baby blue in your eyes … Ciao.

Lucille   Bye, Jack … and thanks.

Jack   It’s twenty-one pounds nineteen and eleven, by the way. That includes your ten per cent discount. Cheers. (Exits.)

Phil   The slimy …

Lucille   Get that off, you look ridiculous.

Phil   Give us a hand then … the sleeves are cutting off my circulation! Twenty-two quid!

Lucille   It’s cheap at the price … shut up, will you?

Phil   If I could get my hands on that slug …

Re-enter Jack.

Jack   Oh … what colour, Lucille? For the boys …

Phil   It’s a good thing for you I can’t bend my arms, Hogg!

Lucille   It’s only monochrome, Jack …

Jack   Yeh, but you want to give the studio audience a treat, don’t you?

Lucille   Yeh, that’s true. Black blazers, white bells.

Jack   Bugger me, I wish I’d thought of that. (Exits.)

Phil   Come back here, ya slimy blackmailing bugger!

Lucille   Are you going to take that off or do I have to scream!

Phil   I’ll take it off and we’ll both scream. (Takes blazer off.) Ready? Aaaaaaargh!

Lucille   For Christ’s sake, we’re in the Garden of Remembrance!

Phil   (looking up) This is all your fault, Hector!

Together   Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

End of Act One.