Situation Tragedy by Simon Brett

by George Birkitt. ‘Scottie darling,’ she cooed, ‘have you any idea what time we’ll be finishing today? I promised I’d ring Barton and tell him when to come round with the car.’
    â€˜Oh, Dob . . .’ Tilly Lake cooed in turn. ‘Don’t bother Barton. The PA’ll order a car for you.’
    â€˜Or I could give you a lift,’ suggested Scott. ‘If you don’t mind the Mini. You’re more or less on my way and I wanted to have a chat about –’
    â€˜No, no, Barton’ll pick me up. He always does. He loves driving the Bentley. So what time, Scottie darling?’
    â€˜Let me think. I would like to have a quick word with you about something before you go, so, if we reckon to read the scripts in about . . .’
    As Scott tried to estimate the shape of the afternoon, Charles sidled up to George Birkitt. ‘Does she really mean that the old boy still drives?’
    â€˜Very much so.’
    â€˜God, what a terrifying thought. I’m glad I haven’t got a car. I wouldn’t have a moment’s peace if I thought I might meet the old loony careering around in a Bentley.’
    â€˜Oh, I dare say he’s safe enough. It’s only his mind that’s gone.’
    â€˜That’s quite enough. I like to think that most people driving cars have got minds.’
    â€˜Hmm’ George seemed distracted. ‘What do you think of the scripts?’
    â€˜They seem remarkably like the pilot.’
    â€˜I wonder. I think there are things that’ll have to be changed,’ George Birkitt said ominously. ‘And I’m rather annoyed with the Wardrobe girl.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Yes. Well, as you know, I’m the last person to make a fuss about something that isn’t important, but I just asked her if she could guarantee that I’d have the same dresser right through the series. It’s only a small thing, but it does make a big difference. I mean, when you’re concentrating on a performance, you don’t want to be thinking about costume changes and things. You want to be sure that all that side is in the hands of a regular dresser you can trust. Don’t you find that?’
    â€˜Oh, certainly,’ agreed Charles Paris, whose eminence in his chosen profession had never merited the attentions of a personal dresser, regular or irregular.
    He was pleasantly sedated with wine for the afternoon’s readings, but felt a great glow of righteousness from the fact that he did not actually go to sleep. What was more, he didn’t miss any of his cues. In both of the remaining scripts, he delivered his fourteen lines impeccably (impeccably, that is, in the character of Reg, the golf club barman, a character chiefly humorous for his drink problem). He felt very professional.
    Round about four o’clock they finished the last script. Rod Tisdale appeared unmoved by the rendering of his
oeuvre.
Only once during the day had he spoken. That was at the end of the fourth script, when he had said. ‘Peter, I think there should be a change to that line on page 17 of Part Two.’
    â€˜Which one, Rod?’
    â€˜The Vicar’s line. Where he says, “It got stuck in my cupboard”.’
    â€˜Yes, got it, Rod. What should it be?’
    â€˜Can we change it to “It got stuck in my drawers”?’
    â€˜Yes, sure, Rod.’
    â€˜Silly of me, I should have thought of it earlier. Cupboard not funny. drawers funny – old rule of comedy.’
    â€˜Okay, have you all got that change?’
    After all the scripts had been read, Peter Lipscombe said again that he thought it was all very exciting and Scott Newton said he thought it was all very exciting too and everyone could go, except for those who were taking part in the filming, whom Wardrobe and Make-up wanted to see. Charles Paris needed no second bidding and made off.
    â€˜Charles, Charles!’ He was almost out of the