John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme series 9 episode 4

This is John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme.
[intro music]

Narrator: 1990: Birmingham

Quiz Show Host:
[crowd applause] Alright, on we go. Ah ha, a bronze question, so five points on offer. In the famous book, which traveller went around the world in 80 days? [buzzer] And they both went for it, but Vanessa got there first. Vanessa?

Vanessa:
Michael Palin.

Quiz Show Host:
[laughing] Love it! I love it! He did. He did, didn't he, Vanessa, and we all, we all loved watching him do it, but sadly, it's-it’s not the answer I'm looking for. I can throw it over to you, Neville.

Neville:
Phileas Fogg.

Quiz Show Host:
Correct. Sorry about that, Vanessa, but in the book, rather than the TV show, it was indeed Phileas Fogg who went around the world in 80 days. [buzzer] Ah, Vanessa.

Vanessa:
No, he didn't.

Quiz Show Host:
[laughing] I can see I'm gonna have my hands full with this one. I know, my love, because you saw it on your telly, didn't you? And it was definitely that nice Michael Palin. I'm afraid in the book that gave Michael the idea, it was Phileas Fogg who went around the world in 80 days.

Vanessa:
No, he didn't.

Quiz Show Host:
[laughing] I think we're, I think we're gonna have to bring out a copy of the book to uh to prove it to her.

Vanessa:
That won't be necessary. I am aware of the book. I've even read the book. Have you read the book?

Quiz Show Host:
I'm sure we've all... No, no, I haven't personally.

Vanessa:
No. In the book. Phileas Fogg goes around the world in 81 days.

Quiz Show Host:
No, he... does he?

Vanessa:
Yes. He wins the bet because he gains an extra day going clockwise round the world. Michael Palin, however, did it in 80 days.

Quiz Show Host:
But... not in a book.

Vanessa:
Yes. I've got the book. Around the World in 80 Days by Michael Palin. Very good it is, too.

Quiz Show Host:
But the question said the famous book.

Vanessa:
I believe it was a bestseller. And the question also said, "Who went around the world in 80 days?"

Quiz Show Host:
Right. Uh, okay, just bear with me, I've got my producer in my ear. ... Uh huh. Uh, yeah, so she's saying, since Phileas Fogg did win his bet--

Vanessa:
And of course, also, he didn't exist.

Quiz Show Host:
What?

Vanessa:
Phileas Fogg. He didn't, in fact, go round the world in any number of days. Jules Verne made the whole thing up! Sorry if I'm shattering any illusions. Whereas Michael Palin actually did it.

Quiz Show Host:
Okay. Well, I'll tell you what we'll do. We will give you both the five points. Can't say fairer than that, can we? [buzzer] Vanessa.

Vanessa:
Sorry to be a bore.

Quiz Show Host:
No, no.

Vanessa:
But I think perhaps you can say fairer than that, yes. You see, if my answer was correct, then the question should not have been thrown over. And also, with the greatest possible respect to Neville, I named someone who went around the world in 80 days; Neville named someone who did not go around the world in 81 days.

Quiz Show Host:
Okay, here's what we'll do, folks! Magic of television. Uh, so with Neville's agreement, I'll ask the question again. Vanessa, if you could buzz in, and perhaps this time, you could say "Phileas Fogg".

Vanessa:
Certainly not -- that would be most unfair to Neville.

Quiz Show Host:
Alright. Alright. ... Uh huh. Yeah. No, okay, got it. Okay, folks -- new plan. Ah, here comes the question again. We have slightly rephrased it. All ready? Okay. [clears throat] Bronze question now, and it's for five points. In the recent TV series, who went around the world in 80 days? [buzzer]

Neville:
Michael Palin.

Quiz Show Host:
For Christ's sake, Neville!

Narrator: 1982: Long Buckby

[TV noises]

Walter:
Nessa?

Vanessa:
I'm just making supper, Walter!

Walter:
Yes, I wouldn't ask, only no one's said anything for an awfully long time.

Vanessa:
Oh. Hang on, I'll open the hatch! Right... Canyon. Four horsemen riding through canyon. Bushes. Brass Buttons on the lead horse. Buttons motions them to stop. Buttons looks cunning. Points at bushes. Eh... bushes. More... bushes.... Ah! Sheriff Combover in bushes with gun. Sheriff gets up. Tries to look like he's not in bushes.

American on TV #1:
The women folk will be with the mules, Mr. Baxter. This has gotta be done without gunplay.

American on TV #2:
Well thank you kindly, young fella, but I'm still sheriff of this here county, and I figured to run this show with bullets.

American on TV #1:
Then I guess we'll do it your way, sheriff.

Vanessa:
Can you take it from here?

Walter:
Yes, thank you.

Vanessa:
Jolly good. Damson jam or lemon curd?

Walter:
Your lemon curd?

Vanessa:
No, still Edna's.

Walter:
Jam please.

Vanessa:
Somebody has to eat the lemon curd.

Walter:
Do they?

Vanessa:
There is that, I suppose.

Narrator: 1974: Colchester

Woman:
Oi!

Vanessa:
Yes?

Woman:
I want a word with you -- is this your car?

Vanessa:
Yes.

Woman:
Well look what you've done! How am I supposed to open my garage door?

Vanessa:
Oh! Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry.

Woman:
Are you blind? Can't you read? "This garage is in constant use".

Vanessa:
Yes, I can read. I really am dreadfully sorry. I did see the sign but I didn't realise my car was overhanging the garage doors--

Woman:
Well, it is! Look at it -- see for yourself!

Vanessa:
Yes, yes, I do see that it is. I'm simply explaining that-- I mean, I'm apologising for my carelessness in not noticing that my car--

Woman:
Quarter of an hour I've been sat here freezing to death because some silly old cow's too inconsiderate to think of anyone but herself!

Vanessa:
I really am sorry. But all the same, I'd sooner you didn't speak to me like that.

Woman:
I'll speak to you how I like! Don't you tell me how to talk.

Vanessa:
I'd like you to notice what you've done.

Woman:
What I've done? I--

Vanessa:
Only I rather suspect you do it a lot. And I think you might like to know. You've taken a situation where you were completely in the right and I was entirely in the wrong and felt simply awful about it. And you've been so perfectly foul about it that you've entirely let me off the hook. I don't feel bad at all anymore. I simply want to laugh at you.

Woman:
Laugh at me!? After what you've--

Vanessa:
Yes, and if I were a different sort of person, I should want to shout at you. And then there'd be a ghastly big row. Does that happen to you a lot? Is your life full of huge incidents and terrible, unforgivable rows? This is why. It's not because you're unlucky. You do it to yourself. Having said all of which, I really am very sorry for blocking your door. Shall I move? [car door shuts]

Narrator: 1963: Reading

Myra:
Granny's go!

Vanessa:
Uncle Newt?

Newt:
Of course -- 1, 2, 3. [crack]

Vanessa:
I win! Now then. Hat. Rip up the hat. [tearing sound] Gift. Small plastic yellow... cowboy! With no doubt a thousand uses about the home. Benji?

Benji:
Thank you, Granny.

Hilla:
Don't snatch, Ben. Level three, remember?

Vanessa:
And... joke? Need not trouble us.

Jerry:
Alright, onwards and upwards. Deborah?

Deborah:
Yes! Granddad, you do with me.

Vanessa:
Shall I do it with you?

Deborah:
No, Granny, give it back! You just did one. It should be Granddad.

Vanessa:
Of course. You're quite right. Here it is, Walter, on your side plate.

Walter:
All right, then. Ready, Deborah? 1, 2, 3. [crack]

Deborah:
I won!

Walter:
Oh, jolly well done.

Vanessa:
So, hat.

Deborah:
Do I have to rip it up?

Walter:
What else would you do with it?

Deborah:
You know, most people don't rip the hats up.

Walter:
Really? Whatever do they do with them?

Deborah:
They wear them!

Walter:
Hm?

Vanessa:
What, on their heads?

Deborah:
Of course, on their heads!

Walter:
Well they must look very silly.

Vanessa:
Mm. Aren't you lucky to have a nice sensible family?

Deborah:
No, but why do we do it, though? Is it because we're a bit Jewish?

Hilla:
No. You light the candles because you're a bit Jewish. The hat thing is all your father's idea.

Jerry:
Oh no, not mine. We've always done it. Why do we do it, Dad?

Walter:
Um, no, nothing to do with me. Never had crackers as a boy. Mother thought they were... Well, Mother didn't like them.

Vanessa:
No, you have me to blame, I'm afraid, Deborah. And I believe we got it from Auntie Gally. No idea why, though. Did you two do it as children, Uncle Newt?

Newt:
Oh, certainly we did.

Vanessa:
And do you know why?

Newt:
Indeed I do.

Vanessa:
Well then stop looking so mysterious, you old goose, and tell us!

Newt:
Well since you asked me-- [ringing sound]

Hilla:
Herrgott noch mal. Sorry, Newt, the pudding. Myra, come help.

Newt:
No matter, it'll keep.

Narrator: 1948: Long Buckby

Vanessa:
All right. Well, write, won't you, for goodness sake.

Jerry:
Yes, Mother, I've said I will.

Vanessa:
Yes, well, you say plenty of things. This you must actually do.

Jerry:
I will!

Vanessa:
And... I don't know... don't cheek the masters. Or do cheek the masters if that's what's expected.

Jerry:
I'll find out which it is and proceed accordingly.

Vanessa:
Walter? Say something to him.

Walter:
Goodbye, Jerry.

Jerry:
Goodbye, Dad.

Vanessa:
No, but, advice... or words of wisdom from father to son?

Walter:
Oh, no, no, I don't think so. No, Jerry will do awfully well, I should think.

Vanessa:
Nothing? From your army days, or...?

Walter:
Uh... oh! Well, one thing, perhaps. Uh, if things ever get rather thick, you know and you, well, you feel you want to blub or anything, simply quietly say to yourself, "Half a glass."

Jerry:
Half a glass?

Walter:
That's it. You see, if you say "half a glass" it sets your face in a natural smile. And then no one can tell.

Vanessa:
Oh, Walter.

Jerry:
Half a glass. Half a glass... So it does! Thanks, Dad.

Walter:
Oh no no no, don't mention it. [whistle blows]

Narrator: 1942: Grand Union Canal

Vanessa:
Lights out.

Queenie:
Mm, only... we really ought to wash.

Vanessa:
Oh, must we, though? It's beastly cold. And in the morning we'll be filthy again in two minutes.

Queenie:
Mm. But we didn't wash yesterday, you know? And barely the day before.

Vanessa:
What if we didn't wash, for the duration.

Queenie:
Of the war?

Vanessa:
No, you ass, of the trip. Or at least until we get to Birmingham. Then we could go to a public bathhouse and do a week's worth all in one go.

Queenie:
Rather rough on Birmingham.

Vanessa:
Well there is a war on; we all have to make sacrifices.

Queenie:
But... wouldn't we start to smell?

Vanessa:
Start? We're a sight past "start", my girl. I can smell you at the other end of the boat.

Queenie:
Oh, what rot!

Vanessa:
I'm sure the same is true of me.

Queenie:
No. I can sort of smell us both, but I shouldn't say I can pick you out in particular.

Vanessa:
Oh, I can you.

Queenie:
You can't.

Vanessa:
I can. There's a certain note that's peculiarly your own.

Queenie:
What sort of note?

Vanessa:
Now do be reasonable. Can you think of a single answer to that question to which you would not take offence?

Queenie:
Of course I can. Heaps!

Vanessa:
Name one.

Queenie:
Well-- violets.

Vanessa:
Definition of an optimist! One who believes a week's work on the canal has caused her to start smelling of violets.

Queenie:
You're a beast. I'm boiling the water.

Vanessa:
Yes, perhaps after all that's best.

Narrator: 1940: Leeds

Doctor:
Thank you. Now breathe out. ... Thank you. Now say "ninety-nine".

Vanessa:
Oh, I will if you like, but I suppose you know there are far better things to say.

Doctor:
[chuckles] Indeed there are, but none so useful for our purposes, I fear.

Vanessa:
No this is what I'm saying. It's rotten for our purposes -- to listen for fluid on the lung, that is. Listen: Ninety-nine. No big vowels, you see, no vibration. And the priceless thing is we only say it because a German thought of it. And "neunundneunzig" works perfectly. But then some perfect ass translated it directly, thus ruining the whole thing. We really ought to just stick with "neunundneunzig", or if that's a little unpalatable given the hostilities, some vowel replete phrase of our own. "The boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B!" perhaps.

Doctor:
Thank you, you may re-button.

Vanessa:
Oh, well, don't you want me to say either of them? Oh, I suppose I've said them both.

Doctor:
Is your husband a doctor, Mrs. Wilkinson?

Vanessa:
Lord no. Why?

Doctor:
Mm. Or your father? You seem most au fait with medical terminology.

Vanessa:
No, no. Not especially. One just reads, you know?

Doctor:
Well, that concludes the examination, Mrs. Wilkinson. You may go.

Vanessa:
Oh, jolly good. All shipshape, then, am I?

Doctor:
You will be notified by the ministry.

Vanessa:
Of what?

Doctor:
The result. Of your examination.

Vanessa:
No doubt. But what will they tell me?

Doctor:
Alas, I'm not permitted to divulge the result of the examination.

Vanessa:
Well, no, I can quite see you ought not to mention it to Goebbels. But surely you can tell me.

Doctor:
I cannot.

Vanessa:
Seems rum. It's my body after all.

Doctor:
It is not. It is now a resource of the Ministry of Transport.

Vanessa:
Ah, is it?

Doctor:
It... may be. Or it may not be.

Vanessa:
Well, if it isn't, then it's mine, and you can tell me what's wrong with it.

Doctor:
I cannot.

Vanessa:
Now then, the aggravating thing is I don't know you well enough to tell if by that you're being a sport and tipping me the wink, or whether you're being utterly mulish.

Doctor:
Mrs. Wilkinson, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients to see.

Vanessa:
No you don't.

Doctor:
I beg your pardon?

Vanessa:
Well, there wasn't another soul in the waiting room when I came in, and nor have I heard the front door since. Oh! There's a thought. Do you do private consultations?

Doctor:
Well naturally, but--

Vanessa:
Excellent. Then I should like to pay you five guineas to give me a physical examination. As a private citizen, you understand? Nothing to stop you doing that, is there?

Doctor:
It's rather irregular.

Vanessa:
Nothing of the sort -- regularity itself.

Doctor:
Very well.

Vanessa:
Excellent. Then, what's the verdict?

Doctor:
Kindly unbutton your two top buttons and we'll begin.

Vanessa:
You're not proposing to do the whole thing again!

Doctor:
Naturally. I should scarcely like to make a private profit from a ministry examination.

Vanessa:
Very well. Off we go again, then. But don't you dare ask me to say "ninety-nine".

Narrator: 1939: Spetwith

Sewing circle woman:
No, the pullets are laying steady; it's these two new bantams I'm speaking of. I tell ya this much, I wish I--

Mrs. Gale:
Ready for buttons?

Sewing circle woman:
Marjorie, help Mrs. Gale to buttons.

Mrs. Marsten:
Well, Mrs. Wilkinson, may I say how gratified we all are that you've agreed to join our little sewing circle.

Vanessa:
Not at all, Mrs. Marsten. It's most good of you to invite such a raw newcomer to the village.

Mrs. Marsten:
No, now, no niece of our dear Mr. Nightingale can truly be called a newcomer to Spetwith. And may I say further -- we were all so sorry to hear about your poor, dear mother.

Vanessa:
Oh, well thank you, that's most kind. I miss her terribly, of course, but naturally time has eased the sharpness of the pain.

Mrs. Marsten:
Has it?

Vanessa:
To some extent, yes.

Marjorie:
Already?

Sewing circle woman:
Marjorie, hush!

Marjorie:
Well, but three weeks don't seem much.

Vanessa:
Oh, no, my dear -- three years. And of course we were well prepared for the end.

Mrs. Marsten:
Oh, my dear, we had no idea. We... we understood it was sudden.

Vanessa:
No, no, it overcame her gradually.

Marjorie:
But then-- why didn't she get out the way?

Sewing circle woman:
Marjorie, I shan't tell you again!

Marjorie:
Well, I'm sorry. But how can you be hit by a slow bomb? And besides they never bombed Leeds three years ago, did they? They'd not have been allowed without the war.

Sewing circle woman:
Marjorie, go to your room!

Marjorie:
I'm already going! [footsteps] [door slams]

Sewing circle woman:
Mrs Wilkinson, I'm so very sorry. She's been running wild since the day it broke out, she really has.

Vanessa:
Please don't mention it. And I believe I understand the confusion. My mother, Mrs. Noone, died three years ago.

Mrs. Marsten:
Forgive me. We understood Miss Nightingale to be your mother.

Vanessa:
Ah, no, Aunt Gally was my mother's companion, and indeed almost a second mother to me. But we were not related.

Mrs. Marsten:
Well, what a remarkable coincidence then.

Vanessa:
What is the coincidence?

Mrs. Marsten:
Why, that you should look so much like poor Gally.

Vanessa:
Oh, but do I, particularly?

Sewing circle woman:
Oh, indeed you do.

Mrs. Marsten:
Oh, yes. We all knew dear Gally when she was your age, you see. You're the very spit of her!

Vanessa:
I can't say I've noticed.

Mrs. Marsten:
Oh, but you must have. I mean, just in your--

Vanessa:
Yes?

Mrs. Marsten:
Well, your... In, in the mouth area.

Vanessa:
Mrs. Marsten, are you struggling to find the words to express that I have large teeth?

Mrs. Marsten:
Oh, no, certainly not! Not at all!

Vanessa:
Really? But I do, after all. Look! And certainly Aunt Gally's teeth were also a striking feature. But it does not follow that I'm related to her any more than I am to George Formby, or the Emperor Hirohito.

Mrs. Marsten:
No, goodness no! No, of course not.

Vanessa:
So far as I know.

Mrs. Marsten:
[laughs]

Mrs. Gale:
Ready for buttons?

Narrator: 1934: Paris to Lyon

[train engine noises]

Vanessa:
[whispering] Walter.

Walter:
Hm?

Vanessa:
What do you think about him?

Walter:
Whom?

Vanessa:
Him: two tables back, in the overcoat.

Walter:
I don't think anything about him. I have thoughts only of you.

Vanessa:
Oh, stop it, you oaf. Do you think he's British?

Walter:
Uhh no. French.

Vanessa:
Why?

Walter:
Because this is France; I'm playing the odds.

Vanessa:
Well, I think he's British.

Walter:
Why so?

Vanessa:
He never looked at his menu once all through dinner. I don't believe he can read it. And he's wearing his overcoat at the table, which no Frenchman ever does.

Walter:
Well, but it's beastly cold.

Vanessa:
Even so. Where do you think he's going?

Walter:
That I do know: Lyon. Same as us. That's how trains work.

Vanessa:
I know that, you ass, but why?

Walter:
On the run from the law, or from his wife?

Vanessa:
Oh, no, I don't think he's married.

Walter:
Whyever not?

Vanessa:
Well, his clothes are good, but he cuts his own hair. No wife would stand for that.

Walter:
His wife may approve of domestic economies.

Vanessa:
Well then she would cut it herself.

Walter:
I do think that's insensitive of you, Nessa. You must know perfectly well she can't cut it herself.

Vanessa:
Why not?

Walter:
She's quite clearly a dipsomaniac. And her shakes are far too bad to allow her to hold scissors. That's what's driven our friend to the affair he's so clearly conducting with... ah yes, a Russian violinist.

Vanessa:
How could you possibly know that?

Walter:
Why, it's etched in every line on his face.

Vanessa:
Oh, you utter humbug!

Walter:
Very well. How about a wager? We'll both study him for the next three minutes, and I bet you this piece of crystallised ginger that at the end of that I can tell you more about him than you can tell me.

Vanessa:
You're on.

Walter:
Excellent. [chair scooting noise] [footsteps]

Vanessa:
Walter? Where are you going?

Walter:
I say, I beg your pardon. You're an Englishman, aren't you?

Man on train:
I can't say that I am, sir, no.

Walter:
Oh, of course, do excuse me. Mr. Mulligan, I think?

Man on train:
My name is Cleary, sir.

Walter:
Really? Good heavens. But you are a barrister, surely.

Man on train:
Wrong again, I'm afraid. I'm a traveller in fleeces and quilts.

Walter:
Dear me! Well then, sir, you have a double in Lincoln's Inn. My apologies for disturbing you.

Man on train:
Don't mention it, Mr....?

Walter:
Ah, Wilkinson. How'd you do?

Man on train:
How'd you do?

Walter:
That's my wife over there. We're on our honeymoon.

Man on train:
Oh, congratulations to you!

Walter:
Thanks awfully. Look here -- would you care to join us for a drink?

Man on train:
Oh, I shouldn't like to intrude.

Walter:
Not a bit of it! I know my wife will be delighted to meet you. Vanessa, my dear, this is Mr. Cleary. Let me tell you all about him. Oo, ginger! My favourite.

Narrator: 1929: Whitley Bay

Susanna:
[crowd applauding and cheering] Well, that went terribly decently for a new one.

Vanessa:
Yes, Mum, awfully good. Gally! Gally!

Susanna:
What's next?

Vanessa:
"Cello Fellow". Gally!

Susanna:
What's the matter?

Vanessa:
She went off the wrong--

Gally:
I went off the wrong side.

Susanna:
Oh, yes, darling. Remember there's no prompt side wings here.

Gally:
Yes! I do remember that now, because I just tried to exit into them, and there they weren't! What's next?

Vanessa:
"Cello Fellow"!

Gally:
Ah, to the cello, then!

Vanessa:
Yes!

Susanna:
[applause]
[piano music]
[singing] I play piano forte for a classical quartet.
But there's one other member whom I wish I'd never met.
For every evening as the show begins,
he might as well be playing on my poor heart strings,
because I'm in love with the fellow on the cello.
But the fellow on the cello doesn't care.
I'm in love with the fellow on the cello
but the fellow on the cello doesn't know I'm there.
I wouldn't give you two new pins
for either of the violins.
The cellist is the choicest of the three.
But though I'm in love with the fellow on the cello,
the fellow on the cello don't love me.

Gally:
[applause]
[cello music]
[singing] I'm the chappie with the cello in a classical quartet,
though frankly I'm astonished that they haven't sacked me yet.
For when a certain person looks my way
I find I quite forget what I'm supposed to play
because I'm in love with Susanna on piano
but Susanna on piano doesn't care.
Yes, I'm in love with Susanna on piano
but Susanna on piano doesn't know I'm there.
Oh, I'd give my eyeteeth, you can bet,
for us to form our own duet,
and live our life in two part harmony,
but though I'm in love with Susanna on piano,
Susanna on piano don't love me.

[piano and cello music] [applause]

Narrator: 1927: Scarborough

Vanessa:
[music playing in background] How'd you do?

House musician #1:
Oh, how do, lass.

Vanessa:
I'm Susanna Noone's daughter. I've brought you the dots for Midnight & Noone. They're on first in second.

House musician #1:
Oh, yes? Let's see 'em then. ...Where's the rest?

Vanessa:
That's all there is! Just a bit of business from the drummer with the temple blocks when Miss Midnight brings on the hobby horse in the second number. Shall we show you?

House musician #1:
No-- the tab music, at least?

Vanessa:
Oh, they don't have tab music.

House musician #2:
Everyone has tab music.

Vanessa:
No, they're a musical act, you see. They prefer to enter without.

House musician #2:
Listen, miss. I'm the shop steward here. Everyone has tab music.

House musician #1:
Gracie Fields has tab music. I think we best speak to your mother.

Vanessa:
Mother! They'd like to talk to you!

Susanna:
No, thank you, gentleman. Vanessa's quite right, but she's much better at explaining it than I am. Thank you so much.

Vanessa:
They really don't want tab music, you see. If you play tab music, Miss Midnight will simply not come on until it finishes. And if you start playing it as she comes on, she'll go off again -- that happens sometimes; it's very funny. The audience always enjoy it. But you should know she really will just keep doing it. Now shall we show you the hobby horse bit?

Narrator: 1921: near Spetwith

Newt:
[birds chirping] Monty! Leave that, you foul hound. [dog panting] Good boy.

Vanessa:
Uncle Newt?

Newt:
Speaking.

Vanessa:
Tell me a story.

Newt:
Well-- [Since You Ask Me music plays then stops] Don't think I know any stories.

Vanessa:
You must do! You're an uncle! All uncles know stories.

Newt:
Ah, but remember, I'm not really and truly an uncle. I just pose as one to get free pipe racks at Christmas.

Vanessa:
You must know Cinderella, at least.

Newt:
Cinderella? No, never heard of her. Pal of yours?

Vanessa:
No? No, she was a little girl with a wicked stepmother.

Newt:
Oh dear. What happened to her?

Vanessa:
I'm not telling you a story.

Newt:
Well I don't see why not. Since I don't know any, and you've got this red hot Cinderella scoop all ready to go.

Vanessa:
Well. Cinderella lived with her wicked stepmother.

Newt:
Yes, so you said. Why was she so wicked?

Vanessa:
Because she made poor Cinderella do all the housework.

Newt:
You do the housework for your mother and Gally, don't you?

Vanessa:
Yes, but not all of it. Cinderella had to do all of it. And she shouted at her and beat her frightfully. And also Cinderella had two ugly sisters.

Newt:
Oh dear, poor girls.

Vanessa:
No! It's poor Cinderella!

Newt:
Oh, why? Was she ugly too?

Vanessa:
No, she was beautiful.

Newt:
Ah! Well, then, as I say, poor sisters.

Vanessa:
No! Because they were horrid. They wouldn't let Cinderella go to the prince's grand ball.

Newt:
Ah. Was she invited?

Vanessa:
Yes.

Newt:
How did the prince know about her?

Vanessa:
He simply did.

Newt:
Very well.

Vanessa:
But then her fairy godmother said, "Cinderella, you shall go to the ball!"

Newt:
I'm sorry, who said this?

Vanessa:
Her fairy godmother.

Newt:
Oh, what's that?

Vanessa:
It's like your godmother, but she's a fairy.

Newt:
Oh, these things are always so obvious when they're explained.

Vanessa:
And she looks after you when you're in trouble.

Newt:
Oh, how jolly. Where had she been up to this point then?

Vanessa:
I don't know. It doesn't matter.

Newt:
No, no, not at all. Odd priorities the woman seems to have had though -- when all the beating and the shouting and the unfairly divided housework was going on, nowhere to be seen, but once there's a sniff of a party...

Vanessa:
So, she turned Cinderella's rags into a beautiful dress and a pumpkin into a coach and some mice into horses, and I don't want to answer any of your questions, so kindly put down your hand.

Newt:
Very well.

Vanessa:
So Cinderella got to the ball in her dress that's shimmering silk and her glass slippers. I said put your hand down!

Newt:
I have two questions.

Vanessa:
I don't want to hear them!

Newt:
Simply stated they are: glass slippers? And: glass slippers?

Vanessa:
Just listen. At the ball Cinderella danced and danced--

Newt:
Extremely carefully, one imagines.

Vanessa:
--and the prince fell madly in love with her.

Newt:
Gosh.

Vanessa:
But then Cinderella heard the clock begin to strike 12, and with a gasp she fled from the palace.

Newt:
Oo, remembered another party?

Vanessa:
Oh, no. At midnight all her things disappeared. I forgot to put that in.

Newt:
Ah.

Vanessa:
But as she ran down the palace steps, her glass slipper came off her foot and--

Newt:
Oh no! It smashed to smithereens!

Vanessa:
It didn't!

Newt:
Really? Jolly tough glass this Fairy Godmother makes. I don't suppose she does cucumber frames?

Vanessa:
And the prince picked up the glass slipper, and the next day--

Newt:
Oh no! He found it had disappeared!

Vanessa:
No, it hadn't!

Newt:
But I thought the scheme was that at the stroke of midnight everything disappeared?

Vanessa:
Not the slippers.

Newt:
Oh, I see. Exception for the slippers. Right-o, continue.

Vanessa:
And so the next day the prince went from house to house asking all the young ladies to try on the slipper. ...Don't!

Newt:
What? I didn't say a word! I didn't even put my hand up.

Vanessa:
But I could see you thinking.

Newt:
Well, I won't deny it seems a slightly rum scheme.

Vanessa:
But he had no other way to identify her.

Newt:
No? Not... her face?

Vanessa:
Oh.

Newt:
Or her voice? Or... really almost anything before her shoe size.

Vanessa:
It is rather a silly story, isn't it?

Newt:
Well I didn't like to say.

Vanessa:
You haven't even heard the silliest part yet.

Newt:
Oh.

Vanessa:
You see, when the sisters try the slipper, one of them finds it too small and the other too large. But Cinderella fits it just right.

Newt:
[laughs] I see. Meaning that the prince's plan was, in fact, to track down his beloved by means of her unusually average sized feet.

Vanessa:
[giggles]

Newt:
Anyway, I take it they marry in the end?

Vanessa:
Yes.

Newt:
Good. I've seldom heard of two more foolish and unpleasant people. They richly deserve one another. Monty! Here! Good dog.

[outro music]
John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme was written and performed by John Finnemore with Margaret Cabourn-Smith, Simon Kane, Lawry Lewin, and Carrie Quinlan. Original music was composed by Susannah Pearse and performed by Susannah Pearse and Sally Stares. The producer was Ed Morrish and it was a BBC Studios production.

Vanessa:
All the same though, Uncle Newt, I do think you ought to learn some stories.

Newt:
Perhaps you're right. I'll attend to the matter.