breakinglight11 (
breakinglight11) wrote2024-08-27 08:29 pm
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31 Plays in 31 Days, #27 - “Lord Love a Duck”
Fighting to catch up because I’m so behind. But this is from Mrs. Hawking 8 again, some time after #25 - “Tweenies” when Beatrice is undercover. The logic as to how the scene fits into the larger structure is still a bit off, but again, good raw material. A little something to raise the stakes of the case.

Day #27 - “Lord Love a Duck”
From Mrs Hawking part 8
By Phoebe Roberts
London, 1892
BEATRICE HAWKING, Nathaniel and Clara’s precocious daughter, mid teens
JOANNA KERRIGAN, a maid in the Parkhill house, late teens
~~~
(BEATRICE, still disguised as a maid, creeps her way into the darkened study in the Parkhill house. When she realizes where she is, she immediately begins searching the shelves for the ledger.)
JOANNA: (Off) Flora? Flora, where are you? Mrs. Leander wants us to lay the library fire before the dessert’s served—
(She enters and BEATRICE jumps, scattering books on the floor.)
JOANNA: Flora! What are you doing in Mr. Parkhill’s study?
BEATRICE: Oh, Joanna! I was tidying in here, and I suppose I— tripped into the shelves and sent the books everywhere! I was trying to straighten up before anyone saw.
JOANNA: Oh, Lord love a duck, you silly girl.
(She peers out into the hall, then leans into BEATRICE.)
JOANNA: All right, I’ll lay the fire, you put things to rights in here. If I have to, I’ll say you’re— fetching something for Mr. Parkhill.
BEATRICE: Thank you, Joanna— but I don’t want you telling lies on my account!
JOANNA: Then see you be quick, before anyone catches you!
(BEATRICE runs up and gives her a hug. Bemusedly, JOANNA returns it, then exits. BEATRICE resumes the search.)
BEATRICE: Oh, where is it, where is it? I can’t see a thing in here— is there a lamp?
(She spies an oil lamp on the desk, then digs in her apron to light it. Once the room lights, she turns to see the desk she’s illuminated in one corner. MR. PARKHILL is slumped over it and she jumps.)
BEATRICE: (Gasps) Oh, heavens, Mr. Parkhill!
(She scrambles to pull herself together and dips a curtsey.)
BEATRICE: Oh, forgive me, sir! I was— just coming into tidy, then I— the books, I…
(Pause.)
BEATRICE: Mr. Parkhill? Sir?
(She cautiously approaches him and touches his shoulder. He does not respond. She touches his hand, lifts it, and it drops on the desktop. BEATRICE stumbles back, mewling, then clamps her hand over her mouth, as she realizes he is dead.)
BEATRICE: Oh, God in Heaven! Mr. Parkhill! Oh, what happened, what happened?
(She fights not to panic and drags herself back under control. Gasping, she forces herself to creep back closer and examines him. Then she spies the book that was under his outstretched hand. She picks it up and opens it.)
BEATRICE: (Gasp) The ledger!
(She holds it close, looks about, considering running, since she has what she came for. Then she shakes her head and tucks it into her apron pocket. She looks to the hallway from which JOANNA came.)
BEATRICE: Joanna? Joanna! Mrs. Leander! It’s Mr. Parkhill! Come at once!
(She runs out.)

Day #27 - “Lord Love a Duck”
From Mrs Hawking part 8
By Phoebe Roberts
London, 1892
BEATRICE HAWKING, Nathaniel and Clara’s precocious daughter, mid teens
JOANNA KERRIGAN, a maid in the Parkhill house, late teens
~~~
(BEATRICE, still disguised as a maid, creeps her way into the darkened study in the Parkhill house. When she realizes where she is, she immediately begins searching the shelves for the ledger.)
JOANNA: (Off) Flora? Flora, where are you? Mrs. Leander wants us to lay the library fire before the dessert’s served—
(She enters and BEATRICE jumps, scattering books on the floor.)
JOANNA: Flora! What are you doing in Mr. Parkhill’s study?
BEATRICE: Oh, Joanna! I was tidying in here, and I suppose I— tripped into the shelves and sent the books everywhere! I was trying to straighten up before anyone saw.
JOANNA: Oh, Lord love a duck, you silly girl.
(She peers out into the hall, then leans into BEATRICE.)
JOANNA: All right, I’ll lay the fire, you put things to rights in here. If I have to, I’ll say you’re— fetching something for Mr. Parkhill.
BEATRICE: Thank you, Joanna— but I don’t want you telling lies on my account!
JOANNA: Then see you be quick, before anyone catches you!
(BEATRICE runs up and gives her a hug. Bemusedly, JOANNA returns it, then exits. BEATRICE resumes the search.)
BEATRICE: Oh, where is it, where is it? I can’t see a thing in here— is there a lamp?
(She spies an oil lamp on the desk, then digs in her apron to light it. Once the room lights, she turns to see the desk she’s illuminated in one corner. MR. PARKHILL is slumped over it and she jumps.)
BEATRICE: (Gasps) Oh, heavens, Mr. Parkhill!
(She scrambles to pull herself together and dips a curtsey.)
BEATRICE: Oh, forgive me, sir! I was— just coming into tidy, then I— the books, I…
(Pause.)
BEATRICE: Mr. Parkhill? Sir?
(She cautiously approaches him and touches his shoulder. He does not respond. She touches his hand, lifts it, and it drops on the desktop. BEATRICE stumbles back, mewling, then clamps her hand over her mouth, as she realizes he is dead.)
BEATRICE: Oh, God in Heaven! Mr. Parkhill! Oh, what happened, what happened?
(She fights not to panic and drags herself back under control. Gasping, she forces herself to creep back closer and examines him. Then she spies the book that was under his outstretched hand. She picks it up and opens it.)
BEATRICE: (Gasp) The ledger!
(She holds it close, looks about, considering running, since she has what she came for. Then she shakes her head and tucks it into her apron pocket. She looks to the hallway from which JOANNA came.)
BEATRICE: Joanna? Joanna! Mrs. Leander! It’s Mr. Parkhill! Come at once!
(She runs out.)