June 2012
'I say, Keith, it's me,' came the cry from the other end of the street. Oh no, it was my cousin Julia; a very nice woman, but inclined to be, shall we say, rather talkative.
'Haven't seen you for ages,' she cried as she caught up with me, 'Have you got time for a cup of coffee?'
'Well, I have to . . .' I began.
'Good,' she said, 'we'll pop in the tea shop down by the river.'
I was well and truly caught, so the best thing to do was to accept my fate and give in gracefully.
After the discussion of various family members and mutual friends, Julia informed me that she had just got back from the West End, having seen a matinee of a revival of 'Fallen Idol'.
'You know you must take that lovely wife of yours to see it, it will have you both on the edge of your seat. That chap who used to be in 'Heartbeat' was in it.'
'Bill Maynard?' I ventured.
'No.'
'Nick Berry.'
'No; you know of the one,' she said impatiently, as if her memory lapse was somehow my responsibility.
'Anyway,' she continued, 'it all takes place in the Belgian embassy, or most of the action anyway. The French ambassador is called away urgently and has to leave his young son in the care of the seemingly very proper English Butler.'
'I see.' I said, 'But I thought you said it was the Belgian embassy.'
'I think you will find I said 'the French embassy'.' said Julia rather peevishly. 'Anyhow, the point is the boy idolises the Butler, hence the title 'Fallen Idol', Do you see?' I saw.
'Well it turns out this Butler, Baines, is unhappily married to a real shrew of a woman, but is conducting an affair.' – Julie's very English turn of phrase always tickled me – 'with a younger member of the embassy staff. In the course of events the boy more or less guesses that something is going on between the two and so does Mrs. Bates eventually.'
'I thought you said the Butler's name was Baines not Bates.'
'Don't interrupt, Keith, I'm just coming to the exciting part,' Julia pressed on, regardless.
'Mrs. Baines pretends she's going to stay with her sick sister, but in reality comes back to the embassy at night and confronts the husband and the mistress; there's a scuffle and she falls down the stairs.'
'The mistress?' I queried.
'No, no, no.' Julia expostulated, 'The wife of course! Meanwhile, the boy's been disturbed to hear the shouting and has come downstairs to see what's up. He just sees Mrs. Baines fall to her death after the struggle with first the mistress, and then, naturally more violently, with her husband, and he runs off into the night to fetch the police.'
'The boy?' I sought reassurance.
'Yes, of course the boy. Well to cut a long story short . . .' Were we at last reaching the end of this long saga? 'He of course is the police's prime murder suspect.'
'The boy?' I gasped incredulously.
'No, do try and keep up Keith. The husband!'
'In the final act,' We were getting there, 'the police investigation gets underway at the Belg – French embassy but is going disastrously wrong because the poor fellow is lying needlessly in the mistaken belief that it will help his friend.'
'You mean the husband's lying to protect the child?' I was becoming confused once more.
'Keith, I'm sure you're doing this on purpose. No one could be that dense.' I had exhausted Julia's patience. 'The boy is lying because he thinks he's helping his friend, the butler!' Fortunately for me at this point Julia realised she had a train to catch and so stood up ready to depart, but before she went she said, 'You know, you and Dorothy must make a point of going to see 'Fallen Idol' yourselves. Cheerio.'
Somehow I felt it would be superfluous to see it. I had just listened to the entire plot, including the final twist, which, unlike Julia, I won't reveal to you and spoil your enjoyment.