Magic Mobile

by Michael Frayn

  No, you halfwit, when I say ‘I love it’ I don’t mean I love it!

  I mean goodbye, pleasure talking to you. By which I mean … Right, you’ve guessed it.

  And have a nice day! By which … Exactly!

  A selection from the best of this week’s versions of Jane Austen’s endlessly adaptable classic!

  Monday, 8 p.m., TV Jane One

  Mrs Bennet faces a difficult decision when the wealthy and eligible Mr Darcy, whispered by some to be a psychopathic serial killer, moves into the neighbourhood and proposes a form of marriage to all five of her daughters simultaneously …

  Tuesday, 7.30 p.m., TV Jane Two

  After a monumental bust-up with her mother, oh-so-well-behaved Jane Bennet runs away from home to join Miss Bingley and Miss Darcy in raunchy girls’ group Hampshire Hellcats – who then, to Mrs Bennet’s mortification, turn out to be headlining at the Meryton assembly …

  Wednesday, 11 p.m., Sky Jane

  Elizabeth Bennet and Lady Catherine de Bourgh go head to head in The Great British Slag-Off! Warning: strong language and some off-screen nudity.

  Thursday, 6 p.m., More Jane

  Hilarious confusion ensues when the Bennet girls’ cousins Emma Woodhouse and Fanny Price arrive in the village from two of Jane Austen’s other novels, and their plots become inextricably tangled. Tongues wag when love blossoms across literary boundaries, and Lydia elopes with Mr Knightley …

  Friday, 10 p.m., Jane Extra

  Why does the reclusive Mr Bennet spend so much time closeted in his study? Is it because he is in secret communication with aliens from a crashed Martian space station …?

  Saturday, 8.30 p.m., Jane Gold

  The Bennet family is bitterly divided over a proposal to build an overspill development in the village to house slum-clearance victims from Mr Nash’s redevelopment schemes in Bath, and property prices collapse. The serious social issues this raises become even more pressing when Mr Collins appears in the drawing room at Netherfield wearing an off-the-shoulder ballgown and announces that he wishes to be known henceforth as Cynthia …

  Sunday, 8 p.m., Jane Max

  The amiable Bingley is unmasked as an agent of French intelligence, gathering information on the——shire militia regiment. Meryton’s Famous Five are soon racing to stop him discovering the village’s most closely guarded secret: the identity of the shire which that mysterious dash conceals …

  Sunday, 8 p.m., Jane Multiplex

  Mary Bennet surprises everyone by winning first prize in the Basingstoke International Piano Competition … Mr Collins becomes a rationalist hero when he publicly abjures the Thirty-Nine Articles … Wickham is revealed to be the natural son of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and the Bishop of——chester …

  Sunday, 10.45 p.m., Jane Ultimate

  The whole town is caught up in the excitement of the Meryton Players rehearsing their big Christmas production – local author Elizabeth Bennet’s dramatisation of none other than … Yes, you’ve guessed it …!

  Dear Mrs Topkin,

  Thank you so much for that lovely surprise in the post this morning! It’s exactly what I wanted!

  How did you guess? £357.43! It’s what I’ve always dreamt of! It would still have been a wonderful surprise even if it had been £351.22, or £359.01! But to have guessed absolutely right like that is very special! I think a little bird must have whispered something to you! Perhaps it was Mr Gosh, in Accounts. I have a sneaking suspicion that you must have got a letter from him, saying something like, ‘I know how hard it is to guess what people want you to give them, so I thought you might welcome a little suggestion. Don’t tell him it was me that said, but I’m pretty sure a certain friend of yours at LuxiGas UK would be tickled pink if you gave him £357.43.’ That was very kind of Mr Gosh, but a bit cheeky! He may also have offered to send a final demand, just to make his hint clearer, possibly followed by legal proceedings, which is even cheekier of him!

  You’re so generous! You’re always giving money away like this! I just hope you’ve still got enough to live on! I shouldn’t like to hear one day that you’d been found dead of starvation!

  I’m sorry I didn’t send you a thank-you letter sooner, but I’m a terrible correspondent! Mr Blending (do you know him? He’s another customer of mine – he lives in Haltwhistle, and he’s very nice) says I only ever write when I want something! (I don’t think he really means that, though, because I do actually quite often write to him with amazing special offers of reduced tariffs, and communications from other approved traders.)

  Also I was very busy spending the money! Not all of it, of course! I’ll put some of it in my Post Office savings. Did I tell you that I’m saving for a new head office? With saunas and hot tub facilities? But only for me and my special friends, like Tony and Belinda and Christopher who come to play in the boardroom with me, because I don’t want to waste the money you so kindly gave me!

  Shall I tell you about some of the other lovely presents I got? For instance, a cheque from Mr Blending, the gentleman in Haltwhistle, for £138.73. Wasn’t that kind of him? And another one for £127,996.41 from Flangemasters Heavy Industries Ltd! Oh dear – maybe Mr Gosh wrote cheeky letters to them as well!

  I’m not going to keep all the money for myself. I’m going to give a bit of it to Tony and Belinda and Christopher. They don’t have as much money as me, and they’re probably a bit sad. But I will spend some of it on a lovely new car I’ve had my eye on that can go at a hundred miles an hour, and maybe also an aeroplane, though only a small one, just for me and my friends, so as not to waste too much of your hard-earned money.

  I hope you liked the home-made gas I sent you. I thought of it because I know you have a cooker and other things that you can put gas in. It’s probably rather rubbish, because I’m not very good at making things, but it is home-made, so it’s a bit special, and anyway it’s the thought that counts. If I manage to make any more I will try to send you some. Just throw it away if you don’t like it.

  Did you have a nice time on your holidays? Or couldn’t you afford to have any holidays after you sent me your lovely generous present? We had a very good time on the staff outing. Mr Pingle, in Home Sales, sang a funny song, actually a rather rude one, but I pretended not to notice, and your friend Mr Gosh had a drop too much to drink and had to go to hospital to have his stomach pumped out!

  I hope you are well. We are all well here at LuxiGas UK, and we all send our love.

  Thank you again! You are a very nice customer to have, and I am a very lucky energy supplier!

  Lots of love and kisses,

  Edward Strum

  (Managing Director, LuxiGas UK, in case you don’t remember me!)

  You were recently involved in an accident, and you may be entitled to several thousand pounds’ compensation … Hey! Don’t turn the page yet, because …

  *

  All right, you weren’t involved in an accident recently, we accept that – but, listen, listen, before you start turning the page again! If you really weren’t then you may be entitled to several thousand pounds’ reward for careful … No, come back, come back …!

  *

  Yes, us again, and even if you weren’t involved in an accident, you may soon be if you go on shouting like that about getting unsolicited messages when you think you’re safe hiding inside a book, and then turning the page before you’ve listened to what people are actually saying, which for all you know may turn out to be absolutely …

  *

  All right, then, how about this? Compensation for invasion of privacy! Your privacy has recently been invaded by a series of unsolicited messages, and you may be entitled to …

  *

  Or if you don’t like unsolicited messages then perhaps you’d prefer solicited ones! We are a long-established firm of solicitors who specialise in everything from soliciting for immoral purposes to soliciting your sympathy for the ghastly kind of work we have to do …

  *

  Yes, us again –
but in a much more conciliatory frame of mind! We really don’t want to take up your time, and we entirely understand your impatience, but in fact we do have something important to tell you …

  Only of course you’ve already turned the page …

  Haven’t you …? No, you haven’t! You’re still there! Are you …? You are! That’s so kind of you! We really do appreciate it! And we think you will too, as soon as you actually read what we’re going to say.

  Which is …

  And of course it’s completely gone out of our heads! We had it all off pat until you kept turning the page on us … Hold on – we’ve got a note of it somewhere … Where did we put it …? Wait, wait …! Oh, yes – here we are! All set! So …

  And once again we can hear the page rustle as you …

  Hi! How ya doin’?

  I’m doing, or rather doin’, a survey of reader responses to this article. Do you, do ya, have two minutes to answer a few simple …?

  What …? Is it me again? Oh God, it’s not you, is it? The idiot who thought I wanted a complete account of their views on the state of the world just because I said ‘How is everything?’ and then their complete medical history just because I said ‘How are you …?’

  All right, but please note that this time I didn’t say ‘How are things?’ Nor ‘How are you?’ I said ‘How ya doin’ …?’ ‘Ya’ – yes. And ‘doin’’ without a ‘g’ on the end. Exactly … I thought I might get a bit more sense out of people if I spoke to them in more up-to-date language. Even someone as socially inept as you surely understands what the answer is to ‘How ya doin’ …?’

  It’s ‘Good.’ Exactly. Well done! I say ‘How ya doin’?’ – you say ‘Good.’ I’m glad we agree about that, at any rate.

  So – ya doin’ good. Wonderful. Thank you. Ya got no problems this time with global warming? No strange lumps in embarrassing parts of your body that most people don’t talk about …?

  Oh, you have – ya have … But in spite of that, ya doin’ good … Or trying to. Trying to …? What …? By recycling old corn-plasters … And sending cast-off woolly clothing to distressed penguins …

  Oh, I see … You’re doing good … No, thank you – I don’t wish to hear how many penguins in the Antarctic are currently suffering from frostbite … Nor about all the various ways in which recycled corn-plasters can be used to stop glaciers disintegrating …

  And, no, I certainly don’t wish to get involved … Nor make a financial contribution, however small … No, not even to the fund you’re also currently setting up to preserve the ‘g’ at the end of English present participles, which is threatened with extinction …

  My God, you people! I reach out to you – I think that’s the expression – completely unsolicited, and you take advantage of it to pester me with completely unsolicited answers!

  So, ya have another really lousy day now!

  Jeremy and Laetitia walked arm in arm past the suffragettes and bobbies milling under the flaring gas lamps along the Strand in a delirium of happiness, oblivious to everything around them.

  ‘I can’t believe it!’ cried Jeremy. ‘I’ve just got engaged to the most topping girl in the world! Also the pater is bound to pop off soon, and then I’ll be an earl!’

  A newsboy pushed an evening paper at them. ‘Late extra!’ he shouted. ‘Archduke assassinated!’

  They were too bound up in each other even to notice. ‘You’ll be such a wonderful earl, darling!’ breathed Laetitia. ‘You were absolutely born for it …!’

  Stop! Stop, stop, stop!

  ‘And you’ll be darlingest little countess,’ blissed Jeremy …

  STOP!

  – Stop? What is all this? Who is this speaking?

  Pytchley. The Honourable Jeremy Pytchley. The fellow who’s just got engaged. The future earl. And this is Laetitia Honeysweet, the girl you’ve just got me engaged to.

  – Hello, Laetitia … What do you mean, the girl I’ve got you engaged to?

  You’re the author, aren’t you?

  – Author?

  Of this frightful novel we seem to be in?

  – Novel? What novel? I don’t know anything about a novel.

  Don’t be silly. I can see your fingers moving up and down on the keyboard.

  – Oh – you mean this novel? The one I’m writing at the moment?

  Exactly. I may only be some halfwit aristocrat, but I’m not so thick that I don’t know whether I’m in a novel or not.

  – Yes, but this is entirely out of order! Characters are strictly forbidden to speak to the author while the novel is in motion. In any case I should have thought you’d be too happy about getting engaged to notice whether you’re in a novel or whether you’re in Patagonia. And if you don’t let me get on with it you won’t even be in a novel, because I’ll miss the publisher’s deadline. So:

  ‘We’ll live in a darling little castle with honeysuckle round the portcullis,’ cried Laetitia …

  Yes, yes, but can we get one thing straight first? Did you say:

  Archduke assassinated.

  – I did, just in passing, but you were too ecstatically happy to notice. On we go:

  ‘And we’ll have six children!’ said Laetitia. ‘Three darling little honourables for you and three darling little ladyships for me …’

  Wait! This archduke. What’s his name?

  – His name? How should I know? He’s just some old archduke in a newspaper headline!

  It’s not Franz Ferdinand, by any chance?

  – I’ve no idea! Franz Ferdinand, Karl-Heinz, Christian-Friedrich – what does it matter? Let’s crack on:

  ‘… with six darling little silver spoons in their mouths …!’

  It’s Franz Ferdinand.

  – What if it is?

  I knew it. If that poor fellow has been assassinated once, he’s been assassinated a million times! Novels – films – television dramas! And no one ever notices. The same thumping great dramatic irony making a mockery of all our hopes for the future!

  – Yes, but you don’t know yet what it signifies. No one does!

  Except you, apparently. All the rest of us are so stupid we think we’re at the start of a new and hopeful century, when disease and poverty will be abolished, and everyone will fly around in small personal airships. But, no, there’s going to be a war and I’m going to get killed.

  – It’s silly to worry about the future.

  But I have to know whether to take out life insurance! I have to worry about getting an heir in time to secure the future of the title!

  – Look on the bright side. You might survive!

  You haven’t decided yet?

  – Not yet. Give me a chance!

  You mean I might win a medal? Come home a hero?

  – It’s a distinct possibility. With any luck. If you’ll just shut up and let me get on with it.

  Only then, of course, I fail to settle down in civilian life after everything I’ve been through. Take to drink. Start beating Laetitia. And even if I’ve managed to father an heir, next thing we know he’s killed in a riding accident!

  – Listen, if you know so much about it why don’t you write the book yourself?

  Good idea. All right, then, back to the top of the last page. So:

  ‘Oh, my darling!’ said Jeremy. ‘Just think – any day now the pater, bless him, will pop his clogs and I’ll come into the title!’

  A newsboy pushed a paper at them. ‘Late extra!’ he shouted. ‘Archduke survives assassination attempt …!’

  The 10 Best Best-Lists, or Maybe Not Actually Best-Lists, But Most-Something Lists

  The 7 Suddenest Sneezes

  The 23 Vainest Regrets

  The 2 Most Alike Pins

  The 14 Feeblest Excuses

  The 9 Most Garrulous Trappists

  The 11 Most Depressing Wet Weekends

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  The 13 Most Far-Fetched Explanations f
or the Presence of an Itinerant Knifegrinder in a Respectable Woman’s Linen Cupboard

  The Single Vaguest Feeling of Unease in the Lower Abdomen Which May Mean Nothing, But May Just Possibly Be a Symptom of Something Rather Serious

  Would you like to serve on a jury making Most-Something lists? Please send a recent likeness and SAE to Magic Mobile Retail Ltd, together with a cheque for the 750 Most Eagerly Anticipated Pounds Sterling.

  * Big news! After 169,947 of you signed our appeal against bad weather in Abergavenny, the clouds were finally forced to give up their obstinate refusal to clear! Now, thanks to you, the people of Abergavenny are free to enjoy the sunshine – and sit in deckchairs signing appeals and petitions at their leisure!

  * Success! After 207,288 of you expressed your anger at the government’s failure to end the scandal of June still being June, the page of the calendar has at last been turned, and hard-pressed taxpayers can look forward to a solid month of uninterrupted July!

  – These are just two of the 19,577 online appeals and petitions that have been launched in the current year. Will you help to make that a good round 20,000? Imagine a pile of 20,000 petitions, each with several million ticks, dumped in the roadway in front of Parliament! The government will be forced to take note before London’s traffic comes to a complete standstill!

  – Never have there been so many wrongs available for righting – and never has it been easier to right them at the stroke of a tick, in the comfort of your own home!

  Yes, I want to help save the world!

  – Thank you! Then simply choose from the following list!

  I want to end: