Barnabas Tales Read online

Natasha - “Not a word - I think the swine just walked out on me - It is a fortnight now. Never trust a postman - even to write a letter.”

  Brian - “I am really sorry - See you on Tuesday” - goes out.

  Natasha sits down by desk - phone rings -

  Natasha - “How tiresome - have you checked the numbers? Please bring him up”

  Picks up papers and looks at them.

  The door opens - Natasha stands up. Justin comes in with wearing swimming trunks and carrying a Union Jack towel.

  Justin - “Are you the person in charge?”

  Natasha - “Yes - at present.”

  Justin - “Someone has stolen my clothes - the locker was still locked but empty - here is the key.”

  Natasha - “That is very serious. Are you sure it’s the correct locker?”

  Justin - “Your assistant checked carefully. What are you going to do about it?”

  Natasha - “Please use my phone to contact your family or friends - then I will ring the police.”

  Justin - “I haven’t any family and my business numbers are lost with my wallet and car keys. And I don’t want the police.”

  Natasha - “Is your car still in the car park? What is the number?” Goes to the window.

  Justin - “I don’t know the number - it was a pool car. I left it in the far corner, and it’s gone.”

  Natasha - “Are you sure you don’t want the police - I ought to notify any theft.”

  Justin - “No - Please don’t call them - it is most important.”

  Natasha - “You will need something to wear. We have a few things left behind and when they have not been claimed for three months, we send them to Oxfam. They are in that box and due to be sent off. By all means see whether anything fits. Excuse me for a short time while I inspect the locker room, and please complete this incident form.”

  Justin - “Actually I can remember one telephone number now - may I phone?”

  Natasha nods and goes out.

  Justin - to answerphone - “This is John Smith - please relay to extension 666 - The Tree-creeper is stranded at Malvern Baths. This is very urgent. Repeat - The Tree-creeper is stranded at Malvern Baths.”

  Justin rummages in box and finds some very unsuitable garments. He puts on a long shapeless sweater which reaches to mid-thigh and two non-matching brightly striped leg warmers. He makes a few notes on a form. Natasha re-enters room and laughs.

  Natasha - “Excuse me laughing. There’s no sign of the locker being forced and the keys are all individual. Someone must have made a duplicate. Is there any special reason why anyone should want to steal your possessions?”

  Justin - “Not particularly - I am here for a meeting.”

  Natasha - “Those clothes leave something to be desired. However, I do have some man’s clothes at home which would fit you - I was going to cut them up if the owner did not return by tonight, but you may have them. If you wait here until we close in half an hour, I will drive you home.”

  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  Scene 2 - Natasha’s flat. There is a door to another room, and a door to the outside. There are several comfortable chairs and a drinks cupboard. Natasha appears in smart short frock carrying a pair of men’s socks and some clothes.

  Natasha - “Here we are. Take a seat and I will see if any of the clothes here might suit you. (goes into next room)

  Justin - “Thank you very much. You have a nice place here.”

  Natasha - “I was interested by your towel - very patriotic - the only similar one I have seen was marked – To be used on official business only - if found return to the Whitehall.”

  Justin - “Well yes – so has this - it is an official issue.”

  Natasha - “So you must be a civil servant? Your poor feet must be very cold. Ah, here are some nice socks - I wonder if they might fit?” Looks at socks but does not offer them to Justin.

  Justin - “I have to admit it. I’m a sort of civil servant, attached to one of the ministries.”

  Natasha passes him the socks.

  Natasha - “That must be very interesting work. I expect that you are very clever and highly trained and totally discrete.”

  Justin - “Well yes, I suppose so. These socks feel very good.”

  Natasha - “Ah - I think there is a tidy shirt here - So what sort of work do you do?”

  (holds up shirt)

  Justin - “Oh, I am into information providing and processing - most of it is just routine, you know.”

  Natasha gives him the shirt after he takes off jersey.

  Natasha - “I think that sounds absolutely fascinating. That shirt suits you very well - nicely sets off your profile. (She trims shirt and adjusts the collar.) While we talk and think about clothes, would you like a drink? A whisky?”

  Justin - “Thank you. That would soothe a battered soul - as the Bard said - yes please.”

  Natasha pours two whiskys and passes one to Justin.

  Natasha - “Cheers!”

  Justin - “Cheers - and tell me Natasha - if I may call you that please - how do you come to have these spare clothes?”

  Natasha - “I shared the flat with a fellow who left without any warning or any message two weeks ago. I was going to cut them up and dump them today if I did not hear from him.”

  Justin - “Oh - I’m sorry - but of course pleased to be able to make use of them. (Rather tentatively) Do you think they might include anything, please, to cover my legs?”

  Natasha holds up a pair of trousers.

  Natasha - “You’ve rather nice legs, Justin - still perhaps they should be covered for the present. So what exactly are you doing in Malvern, and how long are you staying?”

  Justin - “I came here for a special meeting - a sort of conference - but I have probably missed it now. I telephoned the office and left a message, however it may be Tuesday before anyone listens to it.”

  Natasha - “So you are stranded here until Tuesday - poor Justin. These trousers might be a good fit, but perhaps not - which Ministry are you with?”

  Justin - “To be perfectly frank, I am not supposed to say, but I’m in the Ministry of Disinformation. We are always concerned that what we say or do may be misinterpreted.”

  Natasha gives him the trousers which he puts on.

  Natasha - “Ah yes, how very exciting - I suppose that is why you did not want the police involved - how do the trousers feel?.”

  Justin - “These are very comfortable - I am beginning to feel much more at peace with the world.” Sits down in chair and picks up glass.

  Natasha sits on arm of Justin’s chair swinging legs.

  Natasha - “So how do you deal with each other inside the Ministry? Are you obliged to disinform each other all the time?”

  Justin - “No, only part of the time - but that tends to make things more difficult - if everything was total disinformation, it would be much easier to understand.”

  Natasha - “That sounds wonderfully complex” Gets up and goes into next room coming back with a very striking jacket. “Here try this – no-one could suspect you of being an undercover agent wearing this jacket.”

  Justin - “I should certainly stand out in a crowd. Still they say the darkest place is under the light.”

  Natasha - “So who do you think might have emptied your locker at the Baths? An ordinary thief or someone more sinister. Thefts from our lockers are most unusual.”

  Justin - “It may just be a local thief, but it might be the Ministry of Disinformation as an exercise, or a rival Ministry, or a tabloid, or even a foreign power - we are well known for the outstanding quality and professionalism of our disinformation.”

  Natasha - (dryly) “It is good to know we’re leaders in some fields.”

  There is a loud knock on the outside door. Natasha opens it and a heavily bearded man steps inside.

  Michael - “Madam - I understand you may have a John Smith h
ere. May I enter and have a word with him.” Produces card.

  Natasha - “Who are you?” Looks at card. “Oh, MI7! You had better come in.”

  Michael - “Shh. Didn’t you see the instructions on the card - those words must on no account be spoken?” He steps inside and loudly addresses Justin. “Are you John Smith who telephoned this afternoon? The duty officer wakened up after everyone else had gone home. He heard your message. If I may say Sir, a rotten time to send it. You do realise this is bank holiday weekend.”

  Justin - standing “Yes - but I needed information and help. Someone emptied my locker at the baths taking all my papers, wallet, and the car as well. Anyway, don’t I know you? You look familiar. But you didn’t have a beard. You’re Michael.”

  Michael - “Justin - from the old college - I was too dazzled by that jacket to recognise you - Wonderful to see you again!”

  Natasha - looking from each to the other - “If I am allowed to mention your name, Michael, now that you have joined us, can I offer you a drink - vodka, whisky?

  Michael - “A vodka please, and you can call me what you like.”

  Justin - “Mike! How are you getting on. MI7! Well done getting in there. The audit-the-auditors branch. Snooping on the spooks. A spook in time shops nine. Is it fun?”

  Michael - “Well it used to be until they set up MI8 to infiltrate us and report back to MI9. Still, it is a modest living, though they speak of privatising MI7 – of course then we should then be commercially confidential and completely deniable.”

  Justin - “That is a remarkable beard.”

  Michael - “Glad you like it - the most recent issue. They call it the WG - it is bio-degradable and the special feature is that the hairs are edible and in an emergency make a reasonable soup.

  Justin - “Why WG?”

  Michael - “I don’t know - we’re not encouraged to ask questions about the organisation - probably after Worzel Gummage. But how about you, Justin - still copy-writing in Disinformation?”

  Justin - “Believe me, it can be truly boring, but I do get about the world telling people we are the best. There is a lot of international interest in disinformation. Today I came to meet a contact in the deep end of the baths by the chrome steps, but there was nobody there except a fat child with armbands. After half an hour I became very crinkly, got out to look for my clothes, and they had all gone.”

  Michael - “But if the contact details came from one of the Disinformation Officers - what did you expect?”

  Justin - “That doesn’t explain who emptied my locker. Perhaps MI10 was tipped off. I am very fed up. I was on my way to a disinformation retreat this weekend, and had prepared a totally misleading presentation. My slides were especially good – incorrect, with very small text, and totally illegible. I hoped to win the top prize this year - I expect you have heard of the Porky Prize. Pay is so poor that we all have to supplement our salaries somehow. Maybe a rival for the Porky stole my clothes and papers and car.”

  Michael - “I’m sure it wasn’t anyone from MI7 so close to a bank holiday. Anyway, as long as you remember to fill in the correct forms, the Ministry won’t notice the car and papers are lost. You still have your towel I see.”

  “Cheers!” Both take a drink and salute Natasha.

  A key sounds in the lock and the outside door opens. Adrian enters.

  Adrian - “Natasha - darling - I’m back - Hello!”

  Natasha (furious) - “What are you doing back? Where have you been? Why did you not send me a message?” Seizes a bottle and approaches him.

  Adrian (retreating) - “It was an important exercise, dear. I was kidnapped and locked up for two weeks. I had no way of contacting you, but I knew exercises always stop for public holidays, so I should be free soon. What is that man doing in my clothes? And in our flat? And who is this hairy person?

  Justin & Michael - “Its Adrian!”

  Adrian - “Justin! - Michael!”

  Natasha - “So you all know each other!” turns to Adrian “And I thought you were a postman! Could you really not contact me?”

  Adrian - “Darling, I was in solitary confidential confinement to train me to be really discrete. These chaps and I were at college together at Bluffborough.”

  Natasha puts down bottle and sits.

  Michael - “Do you remember old Smiley there - silly old buffer?”

  Justin - “And young Mandy - smooth and slippery?”

  Michael - “And Q with his childish practical jokes. But which outfit are you with, Adrian?”

  Adrian - “MI11, and what about you two?”

  Justin - “I’m in Disinformation, and he is MI7.”

  Natasha - “You had better all have a drink to go with your stories. I’ll send out for pizzas.”

  Scene 3 - Later that evening. Sprawled around flat. Michael’s beard is on the table.

  Natasha - “Gentlemen!”

  Adrian - “Oh very formal.”

  Natasha - “I have enjoyed your reminiscences all evening - now, I have a proposition. As well as my work at the baths, I recruit for Gimiback5 plc. I especially look for underpaid experts with knowledge and access, and the company pays well for moonlighting and advice. I propose you all join Gimiback5.”

  Justin - “That’s a funny name for a plc.”

  Natasha - “It is an anagram of the initials of KGB, CIA and MI5 - the top spooks are all members and there is an excellent share-option scheme.”

  Michael - “What does it do?”

  Natasha - “Gimiback5 is dedicated to making sure that governments receive enough information to keep them anxious and funding security, but not enough to plan serious mischief. Essentially it’s a multinational philanthropic plc. I get a bonus for recruiting, and you can work for them plus your regular jobs. Sign on the dotted line, and we’ll have a last drink and go to bed.”

  Justin - “Why not? Pass the pen and we’ll join.”

  Natasha - “A toast - to the new moonlighting!”

  All - “To the new moonlighting. Shhh - its hush hush”

  Lights dim and Curtain.

  SELECTING THE PLAYERS

  (Vital Casting for the Village Show)

  Scene 1. A Village Hall. On the stage – a lifesize cardboard cow, a cardboard scarecrow with a hole for a person to a head through, a high stool painted to resemble a toadstool, chairs and a table. The Colonel and Lucinda are seated. Mrs. Jones enters briskly followed by Photographer with tripod and camera. (The Colonel is retired and Lucinda is a vet.)

  Mrs Mary Jones. Good Morning. Good Morning. Lovely day! I’m so glad that you could make it to our casting meeting. Things will be a bit different this year, especially with the new legislation. I have with me strict instructions from the new Government OffStage Regulator, which we must observe. (Waves sheaf of papers.)

  And I’d like to introduce you to William – he’s going to take the photographs – we are obliged to make a matching set for each possible member of the cast.

  Colonel Morning, Mary. Morning. What’s your name again?

  Photographer Bill. Please don’t mind me. I’ll just be recording the events. Steady Digit on the Button, you know!

  Col Digits on what? Speak up! What was that Lorinda?

  Lucinda I think he has a special electronic camera.

  Col Oh. Better than the old Brownie I expect.

  Mrs Jones Please, Colonel, remember. Casting must be entirely proper. We’re not allowed to refer to small girls at all – you can so easily be misunderstood – especially after your unfortunate tussle with Brown Owl who turned out to be under sixteen.

  Lusinda Mary, do you want us to be auditioned in a new way?

  Mrs Jones Yes, and that includes me also We have the four main sketches for the show – Sound of Music, the Scarecrow Song, Alice is at it Again, and Girning with the Grundys.

  Colonel Are we the only performers?

  Mrs Jones After lunch there will be more. Now
we all, except Bill, need to go through the process. Who would like to start – Lucinda, Colonel?

  Lucinda Colonel – I know you like to lead from the front. A cavalry regiment, wasn’t it?

  Colonel Yes – inside a tank, and as I always said it’s best to have the infantry ahead. So I’ll go second.

  Lucinda All right, I’ll start.

  Mrs Jones Lucinda – I’d like to see you feeding hay to the cow – very suitable for a lady vet. The hay is in that cardboard box. Yes, That’s right.

  Bill Just move round a little – you’ve got a lovely profile. Can you just bring your right leg forward and stick your bum out further. Perfect, duckie.

  Mrs Jones Thank you. Then the scarecrow – just put your head through the hole – that’s good and now hold the pitchfork.

  Lucinda I know what to do with this if he calls me duckie again.

  Mrs Jones Excellent – and now sit on the toadstool – looking feminine please.

  Bill A bit more leg please, and smile at me. Thank you.

  Mrs Jones And finally – as Gaffer Grundy – sitting with a pint in your hand and a pipe clenched between your teeth. The pipes are in that wooden box. Thank you, very good.

  Now Colonel. Same again please.

  ColonelWhat do you mean?

  Mrs Jones Exactly the same poses again. Correctness now requires that all casting must be free from ageism, sexism, his or herism, racial discrimination, sopranism, contraltism, basism, or stereotypism. Even the ability to remember the linesism. So you must do the same as Lucinda, and Bill takes the pictures in case of any complaints.

  Bill Feed hay to the cow please, Colonel, and can you put your other arm round her neck.

  Col. Bloody nonsense, this.

  Bill With a smile please.

  Mrs Jones Now the scarecrow – you saw how it was done. If you cannot bend far enough just lift it up enough to get your head in. Bill can cut off your feet afterwards.

  Bill Yes, no bother.

  Mrs Jones Now for the toadstool. Colonel – this view requires a show of legs. Could you take your trousers off please – behind the cow if you wish – then sit on the toadstool. I’m sure Lucinda has seen worse in her work – a vet has to be tough.

  Lucinda Oh yes, and I’ve got some serious instruments in the Land Rover to deal with any problems.