Murder, Margaret and Me by Philip Meeks

Author:Philip Meeks
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

ACT TWO

Scene One

MARGARET appears.

MARGARET. I will now present, by way of a diversion, Miss Margaret Rutherford’s guide to successful marriage.

First and foremost… marry a much younger man.

AGATHA appears.

AGATHA. I married an archaeologist. The older I get the more interested in me he becomes.

MARGARET. Tuft is seven years my junior. Quite a catch I’m sure you’ll agree.

AGATHA coughs MARGARET glares at her.

AGATHA. Terribly dry up here isn’t it? Go on. Continue…

MARGARET. He’s the eternal boy.

AGATHA. Ah but men folk don’t get cluttered up with things like we women do.

MARGARET. Make sure your husband is more than a husband.

AGATHA. An arrangement. You have to decide to compromise.

MARGARET. He should be a friend, an adequate cook, a brother… a dear little…

Pause. AGATHA notices this with interest.

AGATHA. Learn how to turn a blind eye.

MARGARET. Do things together. Relish each other’s companionship.

AGATHA. Choose someone who won’t leave.

MARGARET. Go for long walks. Share a love of poetry, so good for the breathing and the soul. And although sharing is the lifeblood of marriage, be comfortable away from each other safe in the knowledge that your union is solid. I am fond of taking spells at a health spa. I go alone… It refreshes the spirit.

AGATHA. Protect each other. In the public eye, this is crucial.

MARGARET. I face cruelty on a daily basis. A journalist once wrote that if I were to be transformed into a gargoyle on Notre Dame I’d make the rest look like Audrey Hepburn. Seldom has a day passed when Tuft doesn’t praise my glorious physicality. He admires my body. I know he’s making me feel better. I also know I am beautiful in so many ways. Outside I’m Miss Margaret Rutherford. Inside I’m Jane Russell.

AGATHA. Don’t be afraid to enjoy the company of other members of the opposite sex.

MARGARET. Or have your head turned by dashing strangers.

AGATHA. I wouldn’t go that far.

MARGARET. I’ve danced with princes, been romanced by maestros. All harmless. More or less. Yearning for beauty is a natural compulsion.

AGATHA. If you can be bothered with that sort of thing.

MARGARET. Finally. Sleep alone. Always.

AGATHA. Absolutely.

MARGARET. Follow these few simple rules and a lifetime of bliss awaits…

AGATHA. It does?

MARGARET. It truly does.

The SPINSTER appears her decanter refilled.

SPINSTER. Darning someone else’s socks. Fathoming out balanced recipes for three square meals a day week in week out. Ignoring the abundant passage of early hours gas under the quilt. Pretending to be interested in the mumblings of the male species. No. In my humble opinion I find the whole notion of marriage far less digestible than murder. Which is ironic as it so often leads to murder. I’m happy with the knitting. And my sherry of course.

Now that doesn’t mean I haven’t… Well… you know? Probably more than the two of them put together. But there I go again. Turning things back to myself. I’m a terror aren’t I?

So to resume our tale my dears…

A pair of famous ladies have reluctantly met through the imagined force of a spirited spinster with a flair for the grisly.

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