Scene One: A semi detached house in Hornchurch. Essex.
Father and son sit by the radiogram in the lounge
“Timothy, I have enrolled you at St Bumsteads School For Young Gentlefolk. Term begins in three weeks. Be so good as to make yourself ready
“But Pater, I won’t know any of the chaps there! Could I not stay here and be educated by you and Mater?
“Timothy, your Great Grandfather was a Bummer; my father was a Bummer, Uncle Herbert was a Bummer, I was a Bummer! You too sir, will be a Bummer!”
“But Pater, can I not attend the local comprehensive school? At least I know a few of the chaps there?”
“What? And end up like Cousin Marcus?!”
“But, he is a Member of Parliament Pater”
“Yes, for the Labour Party!”
“He owns a semi-detached house though Pater”
“Yes, in Dorking of all places my lad…Is that where you want to end up?”
“No Sir, I want to live in Cockfosters”
“There you are then, that is why you must go to St Bumsteads”.
“And become a Bummer Pater?”
“Yes Timothy, a Bummer you shall be sirrah!”.
“Do you think?…Is it possible that…?
“What my lad? What troubles you?”
“Will I be asked to be a toast rack Sir?”
“Of course! And later on, when the prefects get to know you, they will want you to become a privy bottom wiper”.
“Oh gosh, Pater, it all sounds so exciting”.
“It is Timothy, and what is more, you will have the half-term hols to look forward to”.
“Will I come home Pater, or will I go and stay with Mater and her nurse?”
“That depends. If Mater takes her medication, and there is no hullabaloo I don’t see why not. At the end of the day, I suppose there is no reason why we can not book a room in the asylum for you”.
“Splendid Pater! Thank you for this chat”.
“My pleasure Timothy, now, can you wipe my arse before you make tea”.