Trio

Somerset Maugham once told us

he has never pretended to be anything but a story teller.

It has amused him to tell stories and he has told a great many.

Now those of us to help these three into a film

are happy once again to pay tribute to a great writer.

Here he is to introduce Trio.

Well, ladies and gentlemen

if you see me facing you once again in this unaccustomed role for me

you only have yourselves to blame.

If you hadn't liked the four stories we showed you in Quartet

you shouldn't have been encouraged to show you three more.

Of course we know it is a risk to try to repeat a success.

And we have to leave to you to judge if we've been well advised or not.

The Verger.

On an afternoon in May 1924

there was to be a christening at St. Peter's, Neville Square

a church much favoured by the fashionable for these ceremonies

the verger Albert Foreman was ironing his second best gown for the occasion

during his seventeen years of service, he had a succession of these gowns

but he had never been able to throw them away

and so they lay wrapped in brown paper in a bottom drawer in his bedroom.

I'd thought you were going to clear out that drawer this morning, Mr Foreman.

So I would.

How much longer are you going to keep putting it off?

I don't know

I just haven't got the heart to get rid of them somewhere.

What you can possibly won't

with lot of old gowns cluttering up the place, so beats me.

All right, I'll do it tomorrow.

Better had, if you don't want to see them turned into dusters.

That was six, won't it?

Can't say.

With old Ferguson, you always knew where you were, thirty five minutes to the dot.

But with this new chap anything might happen

I'll have your tea for you at six anyway.

Right you are, Mrs Brown.

Thank you.

What a charming..

Thank you my dear, very nice service.

Thank you very much, Sir.

Five bobs and in the tenth, an irritable foolish face

I don't know what the aristocracy is coming to.

Took his time, didn't he?

Believes in doing it proper while he is at it.

What are you waiting for?

The vicar wants to see me about them bells

Ferguson always left them to me

what's it he want to bother himself with them for?

Because he is a sort that logs his finger in every pie.

If you ask me it will take a bit of getting used to.

Foreman, will you come into the vestry a minute?

I've something to say to you.

Very good, Sir.

A very nice christening, I thought Sir.

Funny how the baby stopped crying the moment you took him

I've noticed they very often do.

After all I've had a good deal of practice with them.

Good Afternoon, My Lord.

Good Afternoon, Foreman.

Good Afternoon, Sir, didn't expect to find you here today.

Didn't myself as a matter of fact.

The Vicar here wanted a talk, so here we are.

We got something rather unpleasant to say to you, Foreman.

You've been here a great many years

I think His Lordship and the General agree with me

that you always fulfilled the duties of your office

to the satisfaction of everybody concerned.

Admirably, admirably.

Thank you, Sir.

But a most extraordinary circumstance came to my knowledge the other day.

I felt it might due to impart it to church wardens.

I discovered to my astonishment that you can neither read nor write.

The last vicar knew that, Sir.

He said it didn't make no difference.

He always said there was a great deal too much education in the world for its taste.

It's the most amazing thing I ever heard

do you mean to say that you've been verger of this church for seventeen years

and never learned to read or write?

I went into service when I was twelve, Sir.

The cook at the my first place tried to teach me once, but

I didn't seem to have the knack for it

and then what with one thing and another I never seemed to have the time.

But don't you ever want to write a letter?

The lady I lodge with is quite a scholar, Sir

and if I want to write a letter, she writes it for me.

It's not as if I was a betting man.

Well, I've talked the matter over with these gentlemen, Foreman

and they agree with me that the situation is quite impossible.

At a church like St. Peter's Neville Square

we cannot have a verger who can neither read nor write.

No, Sir?

Please understand that I have no complaint against you.

You always do your work quite satisfactorily

I have the highest opinion both of your character and of your capacity

but we haven't the right to take the risk of some accident which might happen

owing to your lamentable ignorance

I see, Sir.

It's a matter of prudence as well as of principle.

I never took to him, not from the first

they made a great mistake ever giving him St Peter's.

Didn't they all are same I think?

No, he chucked him into it, but I can see he didn't like him.

So I should hope.

He named him into it, that what it is.

You're going to let yourself be put upon without making a fuss?

I don't know, Mrs Brown, I've my pride, even if I can't read or write.

What are you going to do?

Sleep on it.

Decide to morrow.

Good Afternoon, Foreman.

Good afternoon, Sir

I've some good news for you

I met Miss Fitzwilliam just now, she'd had the new altar clock ready by Friday.

About time too, Sir, she has promised ever since Christmas.

Now we shall have it ready for Easter.

We must be thankful for small mercies.

Yes, Sir.

Well, now, Foreman, have you thought over our little talk yesterday?

Yes, Sir.

Well?

I'm very sorry, Sir, I'm afraid it is no good.

Oh, come now, Foreman, that's not the right spirit.

I'm too old a dog to learn new tricks, Sir

I've lived a good many years without knowing how to read or write

and without wishing to praise myself

I think I may say I've done my duty in that state of life

in which it has pleased a merciful providence to place me

and if I could learn now I don't know as I would want to.

You have quite made up your mind?

Quite, Sir.

In that case, Foreman, I'm afraid you have to go.

Yes, I quite understand, I should be happy to hand in my resignation

as soon as you found someone to take my place.

Albert has never been troubled with such questions before.

The vergers of St.Peters likes the Popes in Rome were there for life.

He'd saved a tidy sum but not enough to live on without doing something.

It occurred to him now that a cigarette would comfort him but his packet was empty.

He decided no to take his usual way home

but wandered into the street in search of a tobacconist.

It was a long street but he couldn't find a shop that sell cigarettes.

There was no doubt about it, he had to go home without one.

What's going on?

Glad! Glad she is engaged.

Fancy that, who is the lucky fellow?

Ted, of course.

So you caught him at last, have you?

I'd never thought he had much of a chance.

Well, I liked that, he had been after me for months.

That's right, and we are celebrating, have a glass of beer, Mr Foreman.

No, I don't think I will, thank you.

Come on

I'll just go up to my room, I'll join you presently.

Come in.

I'm sorry, Mr Foreman, I knew the minute you came in, it's that vicar, isn't it?

Giving me the sack he has, after seventeen years.

Whatever are you going to do now?

I don't know exactly.

I got an idea on my way home.

A funny thing happened, I wanted a packet of fags.

And I had to walk all around for a mile before I found a tobacconist.

What's so funny about that?

I can't be the only chap that walks on them streets who wants a fag.

I should wonder what a fellow might do very well somewhere round there.

Tobacco and sweets you know?

I've got a bit of money saved up

I'd go half a mile to buy up a little shop and see what happens.

You do have ideas, I must say, Mr Foreman.

That is not the only one, I've got another.

What's going to happen to you, now Glad's getting married?

Ted will come and live here, of course.

Glad got her own room and it only means buying her a double bed.

That'll make trouble, that will, young fellow like Ted

he doesn't want his mother in law living in the house

I'll tell you what you ought to do.

You ought to marry again, Mrs Brown.

Don't want to marry an old woman like me.

I would.

Don't talk silly, an old bachelor like you

and me a widow all these years, you are out of your mind.

Don't you believe it?

I'll run the tobacco side of the business and you run the sweets, see?

I don't know if I am standing on my head or my heels.

Make up your mind, Mrs Brown.

My name is Emma, Mr Foreman.

That's good enough for me.

How about a kiss?

I've been kissed like that since my poor husband passed away.

Not many widows can say that, all right, come along

let us tell the others and tomorrow we'll go looking for a shop.

What a row they are making down there, what are they up to?

Stop the music

I've got an announcement to make

I've offered my hand and heart to Mrs Brown

I want to Mrs Brown say, she said OK.

The next day Albert and Emma went along a street

and by good luck found a little shop to let that looked as it would exactly suit

24 hours later they've taken it and within a month

Albert Foreman was set up in business as tobacconist and newsagent.

A very nice, too.

All we want now is a few customers.