(We join the meeting half-way through.)

Joan I'll make a pudding, (doubtfully) or something (she brightens) I always got an 'A' for my recipes at school. I've brought one with me. (she pulls out a bit of paper and reads) 'Steak, mushroom and kidney pie'.

Arnold Sounds really scrumptious. I'll have one.

Joan (reads) 2 spoons – you know, those little ones – of dripping.
Pencil case full of onions– sort of sliced
Half a hanky of baking powder – while it's still clean – the hanky I mean.
Two splatters of Worcester Sauce.
Lots of shakes of salt and pepper.
My beret full of plain flower. I hated my school beret.
(studies the paper) I think that's it. There you are. Steak, mushroom and kidney pie.

Rawdon Any steak?

Bob Or mushrooms?

Lucy Or kiddleys?

Joan (searches list sadly) It doesn't say. Should there have been? It seemed to taste all right without them.

Rawdon But not of steak, mushrooms or kidneys.

Joan Should it? (perks up) Anyway Miss liked it.

Bob And you got an 'A' for that? Your teacher must have been drunk. Mind you, teaching girls...

Joan (indignantly) Pauline? She was brilliant. She'd put a big red kiss (signs a cross) in my menu book, then an 'A', then her name (adoringly) Pauline.

Arnold (writing laboriously) A-Pauline. (makes it sound like appalling)

Joan Yes. Funny. Because her name was Mary.

(there's a terrible pause)

Rawdon Right. Fine. Thank you for that insight into the nether regions of you intelligence... (Joan hangs up the hymn-board with all the numbers upside-down, sideways etc.) ...and for reminding us of the value of a dyslexic verger. We have on offer a doubtful platter from Arnold who comes from a long line of poisoners...

Arnold Oh I say, look here...

Rawdon ...and an a-pauling recipe from the verger for steak, mushroom and kidney pies – less steak...

Bob Mushrooms…

Lucy And kiddleys...