John Telfer (Alan Franks)
This
was the question asked by Clarrie, when it was revealed by Alan that, when he
went back to the vestry to pick up the £400+ that had been donated towards the
curtain fund, it wasn’t there. His concept of security is somewhat naïve, as he
had left the money in an old biscuit tin and hadn’t locked the vestry door. He
didn’t actually say that he had pinned a note to the door saying ‘£400 in used
notes inside, please don’t take’, but he might as well have done - I mean even
vicars‘ faith in human nature can only go so far, surely?
But
who could have trousered the money? No doubt lots of listeners reckon this sort
of despicable crime needs a despicable perpetrator, but I’m sorry to say that
there’s no evidence of Titchener involvement. Of course, it could have been
some well-meaning villager who wanted to delay Lynda’s next production,
assuming that no stage curtains means no play/panto/pageant, in which case they
are to be applauded and it was money well spent, or well nicked.
However,
sometimes the obvious explanation is the correct one and we had an example of
‘the slowest penny dropping in the world’ when Clarrie, who earlier had
remarked upon how strange it was that Alf had left without saying ‘goodbye,’
put 2 + 2 together and realised that Alf was up to his old ways again. Of
course, there’s no proof, but, as they say, if it looks like a duck, sounds
like a duck…
Clarrie
is distraught and tells Eddie that his brother admitted to taking £20 from her
purse and she feels she should tell Alan of her suspicions. Eddie says no, Alf
is his brother, so he will go and see Alan right away. He returns and Alan has
been very nice about it, saying that Alf must be in a very bad way to have done
such a thing. No, Alan - he’s just a petty sneak thief, so stop trying so hard
to find the good in people. Honestly, I bet Alan would think that Rob is the
product of a hard upbringing and a decent bloke, really.
Eddie
vows to pay back every last penny and he leaves a message on Alf’s voicemail,
saying “You’re not welcome Alf; not now, not ever. As far as I’m concerned, I
used to have a brother, but now I don’t. Goodbye Alf.” So much for ‘innocent
until proven guilty.’
I
suppose it could be a case for PCB to investigate, but as he never managed to track
down Fallon’s stolen bunting from this time last year, I’m not sanguine about
his chances of success - after all, you’d think 100 yards of coloured flags
would be easier to find than a bundle of used notes and coins.
It’s
Titchener time again, I’m afraid. On Sunday, Helen snaps at Peggy, who, in my
opinion, is getting a tad curmudgeonly in her old age, telling Pat that, when
she has two children to look after, Helen should “Roll up her sleeves and get
on with it.”
Helen
isn’t doing a good job of covering things up - she leaves her phone lying
around and Rob answers a call. It is the midwife, saying that she heartily
approves of Helen’s change of mind in opting for a hospital birth. Rob is
perplexed, saying that, as he understood it, they had agreed on a home birth
and hadn’t Ursula explained the advantages of a home birth? Showing a little
flash of her old self, Helen replies that it isn’t Ursula who’s having the baby
and she (Helen) has had one baby and she knows what she is comfortable with.
Rob is pained that she didn’t consult him, but Helen explains this away by
saying that she wanted to talk to a medical expert first. Surprisingly, Rob
says that whatever she wants to do is the right thing. “Do you mean that?” asks
a startled Helen. “Of course” he answers and, when Helen thanks him for being
so understanding, he laughs and says “Darling, I’m not a monster.”
On
Thursday, Helen meets with Kirsty, who begs her friend to talk to someone.
Helen passes it off, but Kirsty gives her an old mobile, loaded with her number
and that of the Helpline. Kirsty also suggests that Helen should get in touch
with Jess, as Rob’s ex-wife might have some insights into the darker side of
Rob’s character. Helen is not convinced and asks how could she get Jess’s
number? Off Rob’s phone, says Kirsty, but Helen says that he never lets it out
of his sight.
Helen
returns home, to find that Mr. Nice from a couple of days earlier has turned
into Mr. Nasty. First of all he berates Helen for seeing Kirsty (they were
spotted by a mutual acquaintance, who mentioned it to Rob), then he tells her
that Henry has been naughty - he started eating the Easter egg that Pat and
Tony bought him, despite being told not to. As a result, Henry has been
banished to his bedroom, wearing an orange jump suit and handcuffs. Rob even
made Henry throw away the Easter egg and the ‘ridiculous’ fluffy toy that Helen
bought him for Easter. Helen tearfully begs Rob to let her go to see him, but
he repeatedly, and sternly, tells her to sit down. He then starts laying down
the law, saying that she should have taken the anti-depressants that the
psychiatrist prescribed. Furthermore, while he is upstairs (presumably to
subject Henry to some waterboarding), she can look up the number of the
pharmacy on his phone and arrange to have the prescription filled. Will she
take this golden opportunity to take note of Jess’s number?
He
answer to that is ‘yes’ as, the next day, Helen and Jess meet up. Helen tells
her where she got her number and the two women have a heart to heart. Helen is
embarrassed and apologetic (she did steal Jess’s husband, after all) but Jess
says that she’s now over all that and, anyway, Helen did her a favour. Jess
asks if Rob hit Helen and, when she admits it, while saying that it was her
fault for raising her hand to him, Jess says that he hit her too.
Obviously,
Alan doesn’t have a monopoly on having faith in people’s human nature, as Helen
suggests that maybe Rob will change when the baby is born? Jess asks
incredulously “You’re going to stay with him?” and tells Helen to get away,
saying that Rob chipped away at her day after day and, if Helen hadn’t come
along, there’d be nothing of Jess left. Helen mentioned the ‘strange’ remark
Rob made (i.e. “I’m not a monster”). “Do you think he’s a monster?” Helen asks.
“Yes I do,” is Jess’s answer, adding “Get away from him, Helen, or else he’ll
crush you and there’ll be nothing left.” And five million listeners yelled
‘Listen to her, Helen, for God’s sake!’
Still,
Helen is showing the faintest glimmerings of rebellion and, who knows, one day
Rob might push her just too far and she finds the poker/carving knife within
easy reach.
Shula
had a busy Easter, with Dr Locke joining the family for Sunday lunch and, on
Wednesday, Daniel’s girlfriend, Dorothy coming over. Dan is a bit worried -
firstly because Dorothy hasn’t met Shula and Alistair yet and, secondly, he
fears that he might be overdosing on lamb, his mother’s signature dish. No need
to worry, though, as Dorothy turns out to be the nearest thing to a saint that
Ambridge has ever seen. Shula
tells Dan that Alistair really likes her (as has become the custom in recent
weeks, Alistair is mute - he should have given up talking for Lent; it would
have been a doddle.
Dorothy
says how lovely the lunch was and asks Shula for the lamb recipe (was that a
groan from Daniel?). She also says that she and Dan will clear away and, a bit
later on, thinks that she ought to be going, as she doesn’t like driving in the
dark. Shula invites her to stay the night and is going to make up a bed for her
and Dan, when he asks if Dorothy could sleep in a spare bed as he’d feel better
that way. Shula admits that she is relieved he feels that way and I must say
that, as she is a fully paid-up God-botherer, I’m a little surprised that she
even contemplated a same-bed scenario.
The
Village Hall opening went ahead, with Eddie refusing to tell Lynda the name of
the celebrity he had lined up to officiate. As the opening time draws close,
Lynda is in a panic and bites the bullet and phones Jean Harvey (the nearest
Ambridge has to a celebrity) to do the honours, even though Lynda loathes her
with a passion, after her scene-stealing antics in ’Calendar Girls’.
Fortunately, just as Lynda was about to grovel to Jean, who should walk in but Anneka
Rice! Lynda promptly tells Jean to do one and begins fawning all over Anneka.
Poor
Anneka is subjected to Lynda’s E. M. Forster Pageant and, when Lynda explains
that she had tried to reflect the power dynamics of the village in her casting,
Anneka is looking for a sharp knife, or a stout length of rope. Justin is
playing the part of the land-grabbing baddie and, afterwards, he asks Lilian
how did he do? and confesses that he always had a dream of pursuing a life on
the stage. In answer to his question, Lilian (conscious no doubt of the
corporate credit card and clothing allowance) described his performance as
“very nuanced”. Eddie, meanwhile, takes great delight in booing Justin, telling
Clarrie that that’s what you do at pantomimes - good job Lynda didn’t hear
that. Actually, Eddie rose in my estimation as a theatrical critic, when he
gave his verdict on the pageant. “It’s boring” he tells Clarrie. I could have
told him that weeks ago, when she first thought of the idea.
Well we got the carving knife didn't we!
ReplyDeleteAlso didn't Alistair snog one of Dan'same previous girlfriends (or she snogged him)? I wouldn't leave my new girlfriend alone with him!
Re. Above comment - that should read Dan's previous girlfriend. Bloody predictive text.
ReplyDeleteBrilliantly precised(?) as ever
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteAlistair snogged one of Dan's previous girlfriends??? Are you serious? How did I miss this?
ReplyDeleteAs for the carving knife... well, you have to hand it to her. And HE DID.
Can we expect a new range of "Titchener" flavour sausages in the shop now? And would they count as organic?
ReplyDeleteMr Franks' feeble naiveté only serves to underline his lack of belief in the doctrine of original sin (or anything else contained in the XXXIX Articles of the Chrurch of England, come to that). Will he be called in to give well-meaning but ineffectual advice to Helen, or will it be left to his wife to help to engineer a suspended sentence for her?
ReplyDelete