Situation Tragedy by Simon Brett Page A

building before Mort Verdon caught up with him. The tall Stage Manager had come flapping down some side stairs in pursuit and was breathless. For the read-through he had selected a pale biscuit boiler suit and changed the diamond stud in his ear for a plain gold one.
    â€˜Charles, dear, have to give you your calls for the filming. And Wardrobe wants a word. You’re a naughty boy to go off like that.’
    Charles felt his hand lifted and a mock slap administered.
    â€˜But I didn’t think I was in any of the filming. I thought I just stayed behind my bar.’
    â€˜No, Charles . . . You must read your script, dear. At the end of Episode Four it said quite clearly “Film. Golf Club Exterior. Reg the barman chases Colonel Strutter off the premises and into his house as the captions roll”.’
    â€˜So there are no words?’
    â€˜No. Just ad lib shouting.’
    â€˜Oh well, that explains why I didn’t notice it. I only read the speeches.’
    â€˜Oh dear.’ Mort Verdon made a
Dame aux Camelias
gesture against his forehead and then said, but not vindictively, ‘I can see we’re going to have trouble with
you
.’
    A revolutionary thought struck Charles. ‘Does this mean I’ll be seen below the waist?’
    â€˜Of course.
    â€˜But barmen are never seen below the waist. Primary rule of television.’
    â€˜First time for everything, dear. Now you come back like a good boy and have those lovely ladies in Wardrobe measure your inside leg for some trousers. I dare say you’ll enjoy that.’
    â€˜These trousers’d do.’
    Mort Verdon narrowed his eyes. ‘That I
doubt
.’
    â€˜They were a nice pair of trousers ten years ago.’
    â€˜I was a very beautiful young man ten years ago, but it doesn’t make the crows’ tootsies any less prominent now.’
    â€˜I’d better come back then.’
    â€˜Yes, boofle, that would be best.’
    They were alone in the lift, so Charles hazarded a detective probe. ‘Pity about Sadie, wasn’t it?’
    â€˜Yes. Terrible.’ As far as it was possible to judge through the drawl, Mort Verdon sounded as if he meant it. ‘I’ll miss her.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Oh yes, she was so much fun.’
    â€˜Fun!’
    â€˜Yes, dear. Wicked sense of humour.’
    â€˜That I can believe.’
    â€˜Oh yes, I know her manner was brusque and all that, but underneath she had a . . .’
    He paused, gesticulating for the right word.
    â€˜You aren’t going to say “heart of gold”, are you?’
    â€˜Nooo,’ he replied, lengthening the vowel into a long swoop. ‘No, dear Sadie had a lot of qualities, but I don’t think a heart of gold was among them. But she could be very funny sometimes.’
    The lift stopped and they walked towards the conference room. Charles persisted with his questioning. ‘Had she got a husband around?’
    â€˜No, dear, not exactly around. There had been a husband at some point, but I think she left it in South Africa when she came over here.’
    â€˜How long ago was that?’
    â€˜Don’t know exactly, boofle. Must be ten years, I should think, because she was a pretty senior PA here. And of course they don’t – or didn’t then – have the telly in South Africa, so she must have done all her training here.’
    â€˜Ah.’ Soon they would be back with the hordes of Strutters. Charles had to be quick. ‘Did Sadie have a particular boyfriend?’
    â€˜Oh, lots on and off. Most more off than on.’ Mort screwed up his face in self-parody and said limply, ‘Men can be bastards’. Then he dropped back to his customary level of exaggeration. ‘She had just finished something that had been going on for . . . ooh, six months, I think.’
    â€˜Who was the lucky fellow?’
    Mort Verdon looked at Charles with mock severity. ‘Now