The Florrie and Jack Dialogues : Bars of Hope (Episode 3)

Bars of Hope

 

Florrie : That prison, Jack. It was awful. I felt like a criminal myself. I was searched. And poor Trevor he hasn’t been in there a week and already he has prison pallor.

Jack : How’s Aunt Cilla taking it?

F : Well, she took him more vitamins but as she says it’s going to take more than fish oil and kelp to restore Trevor’s broken spirit.

J : Isn’t that nice woman from the bail hostel going to help him?

F : Yes, Julie is so nice, Jack,  a real lady. She has Trevor’s best interests at heart. She can’t believe he would even look at boys.

J : I thought it was drugs.

F : It was, Jack, but now there are ugly rumours all over the prison.

J : Oh, how awful.

F : Apparently Cilla let it drop Darren from two doors away – you know him, that good looking ten year old we all like, had written him a very touching letter.

J : Oh, what did it say?

F : Oh not much, Jack, just that the boy was unhappy his best friend was inside and that he would wait, all his life if he had to.

J : Oh, Mum, that’s suspicious.

F : Don’t be ridiculous, Jack, they are a good family. It is all entirely innocent. I am sure it is.

J : Yeh..........

F : The prison is very old, Jack. Trevor said it was damp and he’d seen a rat.

J : Oh, Mum, it is real punishment. If they’d sent him to Reefdale Young Offenders he’d have enjoyed himself.

F : Maybe, Jack – look that’s just not possible. Trevor is suffering regardless of the standard of accommodation. He is a wronged man. Cilla is thinking of hiring a special lawyer, in the hope we can get the sentence quashed and there may still be a chance of the BBC.

J : The world doesn’t revolve around the BBC.

F : It does for Cilla and Trevor, Jack. Three years at Wolverhampton and then two months in Easington Working Men’s Club has been wasted, if they can’t impress the BBC.

J : I think Trevor should leave Britain. As far as I can see, Mum, he is a subversive. All these intellectuals are subversive.

F : Don’t be silly, Jack. How can intellect be subversive?

J : Very easily, Mum, no one else has it.

F : Well I do, Jack, so does Aunt Cilla. We came top of the class down Cissy Brown Street primary. We are no fools. Are you suggesting we leave too?

J : Maybe the whole family should go.

F : Oh, Jack, I’m not becoming a refugee simply because this country has imprisoned Trevor.

J : I think we should consider it. Julie might help get us out.

F : When it’s come to this, Jack, the country is finished.

J : Well, we’ve been saying that for years. Ever since the Thatcher years life hasn’t been worth living for decent people.

F : Oh I know, Jack, the hardness of these people. I was cut dead in the bread shop by that Meg Peasbody yesterday. They say her son is far right.

J : Oh no, Mum, a bad nationalist.

F : Apparently, Jack, they are the sort to persecute a refined family like ours, a family of intellect, goodness and moral integrity.

J : It is too bad. What future can there be for Trevor when beasts are lurking the streets?

F : I don’t know, Jack, all I know is that prison is full of political prisoners; there isn’t a real criminal amongst them. They are all people like Trevor, put there by an evil, corrupt government.

J:  Do you know, Mum,  life tonight isn’t worth living.

F : Do you know, Jack, I face my first night alone without them?

J : We all do, Mum. We’ve just got to face the facts. England has gone to the dogs. Wolverhampton university is abused by society and it’s one of the finest institutions of academic excellence in the world.

F : Don’t I know it, Jack. It’s the best place for electronic music. They wrote ‘Down Town’ there – the remix.

J : Do you think, Mum, academics must run?

F : I am seriously beginning to think so. Trevor is in prison, not even Reefdale Young Offenders and everybody is gossiping about him being one of those pedestrians.

J : It’s ridiculous, Mum, no one even mentions anybody else being that and they all are anyway. They are only getting at Trevor because he’s first class. If he had failed at Wolverhampton he’d be free now.

F : I’m shocked and horrified, Jack. If his brains had been deflected he would be better off.

J : That is true, Mum. All those years of fish oil and kelp and sitting reading ‘Look and Learn’ have been for nothing.

F : Your Aunt Cilla spent her pregnancy listening to Delius and for what? I knew every bloody note of ‘Song of Summer’ by the time he was born. Funny, Jack, isn’t it, we both wanted our boys to be so special and both our partners left us to bring you up on our own. Two single mothers in one family.

J : Well, I think you did a great job, Mum.

F : Yes, Jack, so do I. Both Cilla and I have loving sons who are either gifted like Trevor or practically skilled like you, Jack. You will be a businessman without equal,  Jack – a real non pareil.

J : There is more to life than money, Mum.

F : I know, Jack, there is love. Trevor exudes love, as do you, Jack. Both Cilla and I put much store by love. It isn’t money which drives us, Jack, it is the eternal things and the hope that it brings.

J : But, Mum, your love has come to nothing. Trevor is in prison and I am unemployed.

F : At the moment, Jack, but believe me things are set to change. Cilla and I are on the case. No one gets one over on us, Jack. Amor vincit omnia.