Allelujah! Read online

  Alex Hello, boys and girls. What I thought we might do is if you told me your name and a bit about yourself.

  Molly bangs a tin tray.

  Gilchrist Molly. Give me your tray, there’s a good girl.

  Molly clutches the tray and shakes her head.

  Well, hug it, love. Don’t bang it.

  Pinkney Don’t look at the camera, Neville, don’t look. The camera is not here.

  Neville I can see it.

  Pinkney It’s not here.

  Alex Right. Who’s first? What about you?

  Lucille My father had a chain of confectioners.

  Pinkney Say your name, Lucille.

  Lucille Lucille. It’s French.

  Alex Are you French?

  Lucille No. I’m from Morley.

  Alex And why are you here?

  Lucille Well, because I’m old.

  Mavis We’re all old. What’s the matter with you besides?

  Lucille I keep having these dizzy dos. By rights I should be a private patient.

  Mavis What does it matter? Dead, we’ll all be the same.

  Ambrose Don’t you believe it. Heaven’ll be the same as Heathrow. There’ll be a VIP Lounge.

  Alex Now a man perhaps.

  Joe I’m not so well either. My chest sounds like a sack of wet gravel. I’m on tablets.

  Neville We’re all on tablets.

  Joe Did anybody ask you?

  Neville Yes. He did.

  Joe I was a miner and with the mining I got a bad chest. Black lung. That was before Mrs Thatcher put paid to the mines.

  Lucille Don’t start.

  Hazel Did your father do vanilla slices?

  Lucille I can’t remember.

  Hazel Not much of a confectioner if he didn’t do vanilla slices. They think I’ve got an ulcer.

  Joe It’s all them vanilla slices.

  What about you, Mr …?

  Ambrose Hammersley. Ambrose Hammersley.

  Alex What were you in life?

  Ambrose In life, as you put it, I was a schoolmaster. Now in a wheelchair due to osteo-arthritis, and a fall. Legs gone.

  Hazel I’ve got that a bit, too, arthritis. He’s lovely. We’re engaged.

  Ambrose Take no notice. The lady is confused.

  Hazel I push him sometimes.

  Ambrose Bugger off.

  Lucille Language!

  Ambrose Don’t ‘language’ me. I taught language.

  Lucille You didn’t teach that.

  Alex Next?

  Gilchrist You, Neville.

  Neville No.

  Gilchrist He’s a bit shy, aren’t you, Neville?

  Neville No. Only I have that thing where you go up and down.

  Joe Sex?

  Gilchrist Bi-polar.

  Neville I’ve been in and out of hospital all my life.

  Gilchrist So who does that leave? Mavis?

  Mavis (who is still doing her make-up) I’m still

  whitening the sepulchre.

  Gilchrist Cora?

  Cora Can I do mine later? That mince we had keeps rifting up. I feel a bit wanny.

  Pinkney I’ll get you a tablet, love.

  Mavis I’m ready for my close-up.

  Lucille Look out! She’s got her eyelashes on.

  Gilchrist This is Mavis. Who was a dancer.

  Alex Whereabouts?

  Mavis I travelled the world.

  Lucille Gateshead mainly.

  Pinkney Fratch, fratch, fratch. Now stop it, the pair of you. Cora, are you sure there’s nothing you want to say?

  Cora Well, the level of my Lucozade keeps going down. I think one of these is supping it.

  Lucille Mavis. Tell the camera what you’re in with.

  Mavis I don’t remember.

  Lucille Piles. Haemorrhoids.

  Mavis It never is. They don’t know what I’ve got. I’m under observation.

  Pinkney But we’re all of us happy, aren’t we?

  Ambrose Pass.

  Pinkney And where is it we don’t want to go?

  Hazel The lavatory?

  Pinkney We don’t want to go to Tadcaster.

  Joe Why? It’s got a grand brewery.

  Cliff (to Valentine) Maybe you should explain.

  Valentine Should the Beth have to close, the geriatric wards would all be transferred to a custom-built facility at Tadcaster.

  Pinkney And we don’t want that, do we?

  Hazel Don’t we? Why?

  Pinkney So. All together now. Save the Beth!

  All Save the Beth!

  Gerald plays.

  MUSIC: ‘You Made Me Love You’.

  The old people sing from song sheets. A few seconds into the number, the music transforms, the hospital dissolves, and the old people rise from their chairs, throw their sticks away, and dance as if young again.

  By the end of the number, they are old again, in their chairs.

  Valentine takes Mary’s hand. He often, when talking to his patients, strokes their arm – not offensively, but noticeably. As the old people leave:

  Valentine Oh Mary, they missed you out.

  Mary Don’t let on. I don’t mind. I’m not used to saying much through working in a library. And everyone else has got so much off. No.

  Valentine Are you sure?

  Mary I’m sure.

  As Mary follows the rest of them offstage, Valentine turns to the camera crew.

  Valentine Bed?

  Alex Sure.

  Valentine now pushes an empty bed frame on to the stage. He is about to address the camera when there is a call for his services.

  Valentine This is what the hospital is about.

  His pager goes off.

  (For the benefit of the camera.) Sorry! I’m wanted.

  At which point, Salter comes on, plainly relishing the camera. A smooth, urbane, well set-up figure who condescends to Valentine. He is in high spirits.

  Salter No problem, Dr Valentine. I’ll take over.

  A bed. The secret of our success.

  Something to die for. Something to die in, too, of course, but, always in short supply, what makes a good hospital is an available bed. It’s what I’m confident will make the Minister come down in our favour. Because our figures are good. Very good. And one way or another, we always manage to find a bed.

  Then Colin cycles through.

  Salter No cycling in the hospital precincts! Young man! (Sweetly. It is on camera after all.) No cycling! Where was I?

  Cliff The bed.

  A lad of about seventeen comes on, pushing an empty wheelchair.

  Andy William Wordsworth?

  Salter shakes his head and Andy retreats, but doesn’t go off.

  Salter A bed matters. Doctors make a difference, of course, but this is what counts. Is there a bed?

  Andy Doctor. Doctor.

  Salter doesn’t let him speak.

  Salter William Wordsworth is Joan Collins. Keep up! (And points a finger in the direction.)

  Andy Got you.

  Salter (calling after him) And I am not a doctor. I am a lot of things but I am not a doctor.

  Andy (to himself, going off) Well you’ve got glasses on.

  Salter (to the camera) That young man, possibly born in this hospital because the Beth is nothing if not local, with its own maternity facility at one end of the scale and its geriatric wards at the other. Both ends of life catered for. Beth short for Bethlehem, so called when it was founded in the eighteenth century because, like the inn, nobody was turned away. Not quite the case today, but it is still what we want to do. And if we are allowed to. Our fate now hangs in the balance. At best – best! – there is a move to hive off our geriatric wards and move them to Tadcaster. At worst to shut down the hospital altogether. Is this much-loved establishment to close? We have had the Inquiry. We await the outcome. But we must keep up the pressure. Save the Beth!

  Valentine has returned.

  Alex Cut. Lovely.

  Valentine Did you want to be a doc
tor?

  Salter (off-camera now) Oh yes. I wanted to be a physician … Grave, judicious, reassuring. Doctors these days tend to come in shirtsleeves and pullover. Which is a pity. (For the camera.) Perhaps you should ask me what my function is.

  Alex Go ahead.

  Valentine What is your function Mr Salter, if you’re not a doctor?

  Salter For my sins I am the chairman of the Hospital Trust, though as many viewers will know, I’ve been a lot of other things besides, including Lord Mayor (twice!). Chairman is a grand title but I hope not a remote one and I’m often around – indeed patients have been known to wake up from the anaesthetic to find the sometime Lord Mayor pushing their bed back to the ward and thinking perhaps they’ve died and gone to heaven.

  Valentine’s pager goes off and he leaves once again.

  (Off-camera.) This (i.e. Valentine’s absence) gives me a chance to say that I’m not sure how much you want to see of Valentine. Sister Gilchrist may be a better tip. He says he chose geriatrics because he likes old people – but nobody likes old people. Old people don’t like old people (though don’t put that in). A serious fellow, he’s trying to write a book, as doctors tend to do (as if they haven’t got enough on their plates). And don’t let him start talking to you about medicine. (He mimes a yawn.)

  Ah, Valentine!

  Valentine ushers in a middle-aged couple, and Mrs Earnshaw’s mother, Mrs Maudsley, who is in a wheelchair, and whom we have seen at the start, singing. Gilchrist and Pinkney in attendance.

  I’ll take this, Doctor.

  Gilchrist Are you sure? They’re filming it.

  Salter Are they? Oh – (Mock surprise.) Still, it keeps my hand in.

  Now, who’re we admitting? (He takes her file.) Mrs Earnshaw.

  Valentine No. Mrs Maudsley.

  Suddenly there is a disturbance.

  Ramesh Coming through!

  A young doctor – Ramesh – rushes through, pushing a patient in a wheelchair, possibly with a nurse in tow, holding up the drip.

  Salter makes no comment on this incursion, but just gives a wide, inclusive smile.

  Salter (to Valentine) Have they been told about the camera?

  Valentine nods.

  (Mouthing.) Don’t look at the camera.

  Now, tell me about mother. (Stifling a yawn.) I’m interested. Had a fall. Got confused. We’ve managed to find her a bed on Shirley Bassey.

  They are fortunate, are they not, Valentine, that there is still a ward for the bed to go on. Now, Mrs Earnshaw.

  Mrs Earnshaw No. I’m Mrs Earnshaw. Mother is Mrs Maudsley.

  Mr Earnshaw And I’m Mr Earnshaw.

  Salter (very loudly) Hello!

  Mrs Maudsley It was my house.

  She begins to cry, this tempting the camera out.

  Salter ignores Mrs Maudsley as the camera laps up the tears

  Earnshaw She’s confused.

  Salter Quite so.

  Mrs Earnshaw And she’s got gallstones.

  Salter Valentine?

  Valentine Some routine questions. Is mother compos mentis? All there?

  Mrs Earnshaw Oh yes. Catch her on a good day and she’s as bright as a button.

  Mrs Maudsley It was my house.

  Valentine Is she mobile at all?

  Earnshaw When it suits her.

  Gilchrist Is she continent?

  Mrs Earnshaw Oh yes.

  Earnshaw rolls his eyes.

  Salter That’s good news.

  Gilchrist We have better things to do than empty bedpans.

  Valentine Though needs must.

  Salter Of course. Of course.

  Valentine Appetite?

  Earnshaw She eats like a navvy.

  Salter At the Beth, we like patients to join in. Is Mrs Maudsley social at all?

  Mrs Earnshaw Oh yes. Life and soul of the party. Aren’t you, Mother? Life and soul of the party.

  Mrs Maudsley Mine. They took it.

  Valentine Religion?

  Mrs Maudsley Thieves.

  Mrs Earnshaw She was C of E but with all these vicars being had up she went over to atheism.

  Pinkney Do you sing at all?

  Mrs Earnshaw Sing? Sing? This is the Pudsey Nightingale. Sing, Mother

  Earnshaw Oh hell.

  Mrs Maudsley sings a little.

  MUSIC: ‘I Can Give You the Starlight’ (Ivor Novello).

  Pinkney We love singing. We’re having a concert next week for Sister Gilchrist. You can be our guest artist.

  Salter (for the camera’s benefit) And away she goes, about to take her place in the therapeutic community.

  Pinkney wheels her away.

  Salter indicates the interview is at an end and Mrs Earnshaw gets up. Earnshaw doesn’t.

  The following is out of earshot of the camera.

  Earnshaw What’s the survival rate?

  Salter I’m sorry?

  Earnshaw How long do they last?

  Salter Well … that depends. This is a geriatric facility, after all …

  Mrs Earnshaw He means generally speaking.

  Earnshaw No, I don’t.

  Six years ago she made over the house.

  Mrs Earnshaw Only because she wanted to.

  Earnshaw In order to avoid estate duty.

  Mrs Earnshaw Perfectly legally. The Queen Mother did it.

  Earnshaw She put the house in our name and come September it will be ours free of tax …

  Salter I’m familiar with the arrangement.

  Earnshaw I told you. Everybody does it. Only what I want is reassurance that she’s going to last those three months.

  Salter This is a hospital. We make people … last … as long as possible. And once they’ve dealt with the gallstones she may be out quite soon.

  Mr Earnshaw (as they are going out) I don’t think it is gallstones.

  Mrs Earnshaw No, I don’t either. I think it’s you.

  Salter (also going out but for the benefit of the camera) Salt of the earth!

  Salter takes them out, leaving Valentine onstage, alone, but with the camera.

  Valentine Ready? Now?

  Cliff (camera) Coast clear.

  Valentine An extract from my book:

  If all property is theft no one in here has any property. Unwaged, unpensioned, disendowed of their homes, all too often they are disendowed of the faculties that went with them. Loss of things means loss of bearings. So now, unanchored, they begin to drift, clinging to their lockers like Ahab to his coffin.

  Cliff gives Valentine the thumbs up and withdraws.

  Colin lazily cycles through as Gilchrist is taking care of Mrs Maudsley.

  Gilchrist Don’t let them catch you in here with that thing.

  Colin Why? What’ll they do?

  Gilchrist Fine you, probably, same as they do in the car park. They’re demons. Are you looking for somebody?

  Colin Dusty Springfield.

  Gilchrist In person?

  Colin Mr Colman.

  Gilchrist Joe?

  Colin You know him?

  Gilchrist He’s not so good at the moment.

  Colin They phoned. That’s why I’m here.

  Gilchrist Are you the son? The one who knows the Prime Minister?

  Colin I don’t know the Prime Minister. That’s just my dad. Though I am attached to the Department of Health.

  Gilchrist More than we are.

  ‘Attached’. Joke.

  Colin Yes. Ha ha.

  Gilchrist Anyway, I’ll be giving him a bath shortly. You’re welcome to come.

  Colin When you’ve finished.

  Gilchrist We’ll be in Fatima Whitbread.

  The old people are gathered. Pinkney and Gerald take them through a number.

  MUSIC: ‘A, You’re Adorable’.

  Gerald goes to the hand sanitiser to ready himself for physio.

  Lucille Where are you going, Mavis?

  Mavis Gerald’s going to do my back.

  Lucille He never is. He’s doing my leg.


  Gilchrist Well, you’re both wrong because he’s doing my neck.

  Lucille You’re not a patient. That’s incestuous.

  Gilchrist It’s a perk of the job. One of the few.

  Lucille You want reporting, you. You shouldn’t be doing that, Gerald.

  Gerald Listen, I don’t mind who I do. I’m anybody’s.

  Much whooping.

  Hazel Did you like that?

  Ambrose (who as always has his earphones on) Did I like what?

  Hazel Us, singing.

  Ambrose I didn’t hear it.

  Hazel I was singing it for you.

  Ambrose I wouldn’t bother.

  Hazel You wouldn’t say that if I was Dorothy Squires.

  Ambrose On the contrary, I would say it if you were Kiri-Te-Fucking-Kanawa.

  Hazel maybe weeps.

  Do you know what that is, Hazel?

  Hazel Yes, disgusting.

  Ambrose It’s also a grammatical construction called tmesis. Abso-bloody-lutely would be another example.

  Valentine has come in.

  You’re privileged. Apart from me, Hazel, you are probably the only person in what was once the West Riding of Yorkshire who knows what tmesis is.

  Hazel (faintly) Hurray.

  Valentine I’ll push him back, Hazel.

  Pinkney Hazel?

  He takes Hazel off.

  Valentine You sound on good form.

  Ambrose Yes. Ebbing. But still flowing Are you wanting to pick my brains again?

  Valentine Do you mind?

  Ambrose Nobody else thinks I have a brain to pick.

  Valentine An enclitic?

  Ambrose Fish ’n’ chips. Rock ’n’ roll. It’s a connective. A shortened version of ‘and’. Hairdressers like them for some reason. ‘Cut ’n’ dry’, ‘Curl up ’n’ dye’.

  Valentine And the other one was?

  Ambrose Tmesis. Look it up.

  Valentine I shall.

  Ambrose This test. What is it?

  Valentine Nothing. Just a proficiency test. Use of English, that sort of thing.

  Ambrose By the hospital?