Prose

‘MY AMPLEFORTH YEARS 3: My last term’
Scholar at work featuring in the St. Oswald’s House ‘Punch’, Feast of St. Oswald, 28th February 1957

Enter Bruno, who sits at his desk, opens his typewriter case, inserts a sheet of paper in the appropriate place, and starts typing. He types steadily for about a minute, making plenty of noise and occasionally saying something inaudible. He stops for a moment to think, and in so doing strokes his chin: he returns to work, stops, feels his chin once more, then the sides of his face, scowls and sighs. He takes out his razor, brush and shaving stick, dips the razor into a glass of water on his desk, and starts to shave: he gets lathering. While so engaged, there is a knock at the door. In a flurry, razor, stick and brush have gone into hiding, Bruno has hastily wiped as much of his face as possible, leaving his towel draped accidentally round his neck: he shouts – BRUNO “Come in!”

Enter Ivan, in rugger shorts, shoes, stockings, and a flimsy vest.

IVAN “Oi oi, you lot, got a …?” but before he can finish his question, he has spied a cake tin on Bruno’s desk: in ecstasy, he modifies his question and says just “Cake!” Pointing unambiguously at the tin, he goes on “Just feeling like a bit of cake myself!”

BRUNO “Say, you must be feeling like ‘Sudden Death’! In a bad way old fellow?”

IVAN “Oh come on, how ’bout a bit of …” and without waiting for an answer he starts rummaging about in the tin: he takes out the cake, holds it up to the light, and then drops it heavily back into the tin: he looks at Bruno and says: “Mm, this looks just right for me!”

BRUNO “Can’t you see I’m busy?” and he looks gravely towards his typewriter: “I’ve got the heck of a lot of work to do, and you …”

IVAN “Can’t kid me, old fellow!” and without more ado Ivan breaks the cake in two unequal portions, and offers Bruno the smaller of them, himself starting on the other.

BRUNO “No thanks, not now please: actually … I’m busy!”

IVAN “Mm, this is good!” and he munches lustily. “Just feeling like a lump of this stuff”. He eats it all up, shuts the tin, and goes on: “What I came to ask you was if …”

BRUNO “You could have some cake, perhaps?”

IVAN “Oh, come off it, you entirely misjudge me. Want a rugger jersey at once. Can’t you see I’m just dying of exposure? Stop looking as though you’re working! … I know you’ve got one: look here, you can’t let a fellow down when he’s got P.T. in two minutes time old chap! Now be decent, ’cause I know you’ve got a jersey …”

BRUNO “Really?” and he intently studies his typewriter. “I am rather busy just now …”

IVAN “You Rotter: all right, see you later …” and he trails off towards the door.

BRUNO (repents) “o.kayyyy, here it is, take it away and leave me in peace: thanks!”

IVAN “Knew you were a good chap, never let a fellow down: thanks awfully!” and he exits with the jersey. Bruno sighs with relief as Ivan disappears: he digs out a corps boot and starts to clean it with a handkerchief. There is a knock at the door: in a flash the boot has disappeared, and Bruno is left wiping his face with the handkerchief and looking intently at the typewriter.

BRUNO “Come in!”

Enter Mr. Watt in sandy coloured overalls.

MR. WATT “’Morning Gents: jist wanted ter knowww hoo many watts ye’ve got ’round ’ere … four ’undred, aye, an’ eny tôsters? – an’ even if y’ad, ye’d ’ide’ em, wouldn’t ye?” He points at the lights and says “an’ whet’s ’at fur? – fur shaaaavin’, ee, fur shavin’!”

BRUNO “Um, um, well, actually, um …”

MR. WATT “Noooo, ’s quite all right, s’long …” and he exits. With Mr Watt gone, Bruno sighs in relief: he lights a fag and has a good draw: and then there is another knock at the door. In a couple of shakes Bruno has dropped a few books on his fag, has started fanning the air wildly, and at the same time tries to look at his typewriter.

BRUNO “Do come in!” And with a slick side movement, in slides Bobby.

BOBBY “Working?” – good! – bit hot round here, don’t you think? – do with some fresh air, eh?” and he opens a window.

BRUNO “Suppose so, ’tis rather stuffy, isn’t it! – Can I help you?”

BOBBY “No, quite all right – just wanted to know if you’re using your machine: it’s o.k., I’ll borrow it later …”

BRUNO “You will? – all right: how ’bout tonight? any good?”

BOBBY “Fine!” and he exits. Bruno sighs with relief as he disappears: he unearths the squashed fag and relights it. He mumbles something like ‘busy morning’ to himself. Barely said, there is another knock at the door: he hides the fag and angrily says –

BRUNO “Come in!”

BOBBY merely popping his head round the edge of the door “You did say tonight, didn’t you?”

BRUNO almost inarticulate with relief “’sright, tonight, s’long!” And Bobby goes. Bruno shows relief. He relights his fag, and pours out a drink: he has a swig: there is a knock at the door. He drops the fag in the drink, which he hides: he fans the air and studies his machine.

BRUNO “Come in!”

In creeps Peter, or rather stumbles, half asleep, rubbing his eyes.

PETER “Hello. Say, what are you doing, you incredible fellow? You’re not working, are you?”

BRUNO “Can I help you?”

PETER “Quite all right, just feeling lonely sort of: just came to say hello …”

BRUNO “Well, as a matter of interest, then, I am rather busy just now …”

PETER “o.k., shan’t disturb you – though I don’t know what you’re binding on about work – try another one! and say, you don’t want to buy a two by four carpet, do you? – cheap?”

BRUNO “Not that old thing, with ‘Welcome home’ all over it?”

PETER “That’s right, that old thing – but it’s o.k. by me; I’ll get rid of it”.

BRUNO “Splendid fellow!” see you later!” And Peter shambles out. Bruno fishes out the drink, holds up the dripping fag, and says “Drat, another Sobranie down the drain!” He lights a new one: there is a knock at the door: he hides everything. In walks Ivan, almost before Bruno has said “Come in”.

IVAN “Oi, oi, say old fellow, just dying for a drag, absolutely dying …”

BRUNO throws him a cigarette, and says “All right: be quick about it!” They smoke away. There is a knock at the door: they only have time to turn their backs to the audience, holding their cigarettes for all to see:

BRUNO “Come in!”

PETER “What’s the matter? Why you looking so startled? Anything wrong?” He sees the drink on Bruno’s desk and says “Ah, drink! mind if I have a quick one?”

BRUNO “You’d better be quick about it!” and he puffs once more at his fag, as does Ivan: Peter looks temporarily surprised, then drinks. There is a knock at the door, and before anything can be done, in walks Bobby.

BOBBY coldly “Expected this: caught you at it! Well? Anything to say for yourselves?” and, more personally, “don’t mind if I have one, do you?” and he lights a fag amd pours himself out a drink. The lights are turned off.

END

My last term: the diary