Ashes to Ashford Part 1

Ashes to Ashford Part 1
Nigel Banks

                                                                       CHARACTERS & CAST

Jimmy McIver -                                   Mike Rivarno
Dermot “Spud” Murphy -              Mike Ayris
Reginald Thring -                               Nigel Banks
Roger Soul (deceased) -                 Jim Newberry
Railway Station Official -              Nigel Banks
Ship’s Purser -                                     Jim Newberry

 
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FX: BACKGROUND CARIBBEAN MUSIC PLAYS UNDERNEATH  VOICEOVER

JIMMY: If you’d told me nine months ago that I’d be sitting on a beach in Barbados                  sipping rum punches and soaking up the Caribbean sunshine, I’d have laughed in your face. I’ve always been a gambler and even though Lady Luck rarely  seemed to smile on me, I never gave up the dream of making that big killing. 

And whaddya know: my patience finally paid off. But not in the way I ever expected. It wasn’t a string of winners at Ascot, or the Romford dogs. Not a lucky strike on the roulette wheel or in a poker school. Not even the habitual  gambler’s last resort: a National Lottery ticket. No, it was something quite different. It all started when I got this mysterious phone call. 

FX:  X-FADE TO SOUND OF MOBILE PHONE RINGTONE 

JIMMY:  Hello. 

THRING: Am I speaking to Mr James McIver? 

FX: SOUND OF CALL BEING DISCONNECTED 

JIMMY: Nobody I know calls me James, so it’s probably someone I owe money to.  
Time I changed my mobile number. 

FX: SOUND OF MOBILE RINGTONE 

JIMMY: Hm, according to the screen it’s old Roger. Haven’t heard from him in ages.          
Wonder what he wants. Hi, Rodge, long time no hear. How you diddling? 

THRING: It’s not Roger. Please don’t hang up Mr McIver until I’ve explained the reason for my call. My name is Reginald Thring and I’m the late Mr Soul’s solicitor. I was wondering if you could visit me at my office in order to discuss an important matter concerning his last will and testament? 

JIMMY: Is this some kind of wind-up?

THRING: Indeed not. I can assure you, Mr McIver, this is absolutely genuine. 

JIMMY: So, old Rodge has popped his clogs? But he couldn’t have been more than  
fifty-five

THRING: Fifty-four, I believe. He hadn’t been well for some time, so he was able to make extremely careful and detailed provisions in his will before he actually passed away.

JIMMY: What’s that got to do with me? I haven’t seen him in a long time, and we 
weren’t exactly close.

THRING: I’d rather not go into detail over the telephone, but if you’d care to come and 
see me in my office, I can assure you that it could be to your advantage. Shall 
we say tomorrow at two o’clock? My office is situated on Highgate. 

JIMMY: Oh, ok then.  

THRING: Thank you. Goodbye. 

JIMMY: Yeah, laters. 

FX: SOUND OF CALL ENDING; X-FADE TO CARIBBEAN AMBIENT BACKGROUND SOUND 

JIMMY: So, that’s how it started. Little did I realise what I was getting myself into. 

FX: INTRODUCTORY MUSIC 

ANNOUNCER:  We present Episode One of ASHES TO ASHFORD by Nigel Banks. 

FX: MUSIC X-FADES WITH SOUND OF DOOR OPENING 
 
THRING: Good afternoon, Mr McIver. Thank you for coming. Do take a seat. Now,  I’m sure you’ll be curious to know why I’ve summoned you here, and I assure you that all will be revealed in due course. However, I have to say that the late Mr Soul’s estate is an extremely complex affair, so I do ask you to bear with me as I explain the relevant details to you. 

JIMMY: Yeah, I must admit all this cloak and dagger stuff has certainly tickled my fancy – I’m all ears! 

THRING: So, where to start? I have handled the late Mr Soul’s legal affairs for many 
years now: conveyancing of properties, a divorce settlement, setting up Deeds of Trust – all that sort of thing. I must have met him many times in the past, purely in a professional capacity. 

He always struck me as being very  prudent and logical in his approach to his legal and financial affairs, which is  why what I’m about to tell you about certain provisions in his will seems uncharacteristically whimsical on his part. 

JIMMY: So, how does all this affect me? As I said, I hadn’t clapped eyes on Rodge for a while now. And the last time we met, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms. 

THRING: Yes, the small matter of an unpaid debt, I believe. 

JIMMY:  Ah, so you know about that. 

THRING: Yes, Mr Soul went into considerable background detail when setting up his will. He came to see me shortly after being diagnosed with an inoperable  cancer. Not knowing exactly how much longer he had to live, he was anxious  to set all his affairs in order, and not to leave any “unfinished business”  behind him, as he put it. The aspect of his will which concerns you is related to the disposal of his remains. 

JIMMY: Do what? 

THRING: Indeed, it struck me as rather idiosyncratic, but I am merely the factotum, whose role is to ensure that my client’s wishes are carried out. 

JIMMY: You mean, “Don’t shoot me – I’m only the piano player”? 

THRING: Quite. Perhaps it would be better if I read out Mr Soul’s own words, so you 
get all the necessary information “straight from the horse’s mouth”, so to speak, before making your decision. 

JIMMY: Decision? 

THRING: Patience, Mr McIver! 

FX: SOUND OF LEGAL PAPERS BEING RUSTLED 

THRING: (CLEARS THROAT) Dear Jimmy, assuming Mr Thring has managed to track 
 you down, you’ll be sitting in his office when you hear this, and I’ll have “shuffled off my mortal coil”. 

SOUL’S VOICE IS HEARD UNDERNEATH THRING’S, THEN X-FADES SO THAT IT GRADUALLY REPLACES THRING’S 

SOUL: We go back a long way, don’t we Jimmy. You were a couple of years below me at school, but I took you under my wing, didn’t I? Protected you from the bullies, introduced you to the delights of card playing, courtesy of that poker school I used to run behind the bike shed at lunchtimes. But you never seemed to learn the golden rule of the poker player: “quit while you’re ahead”. I was forever having to lend you money to pay your debts. I would’ve thought the interest rate I charged would’ve cured you, but, oh no, you always came back for more. 

JIMMY: Yeah, I was always over-playing my hands. Rodge, though, he knew when to fold, or when to up the ante. He was a natural, but he could take it or leave it. Me, I was hooked straight away – real addict material. 

THRING: If I may continue…? 
 
SOUL: You left school after taking your O-levels, whereas I stayed on into the sixth 
form and then went on to university, so our paths didn’t cross for some years. When we did eventually meet up again, it was the same old story: “’Ere, Rodge, you couldn’t lend me a few quid, could you? I’m a bit short, as it happens, and I need to settle an I.O.U.” I was too soft-hearted, so I always obliged. 

Maybe it was because I felt sorry for you dear old Ma. You were still living at home and putting on her instead of making your own way in the world. You’ve always been a sponger, Jimmy, not a grafter. “Skiver McIver” they called you at school, and that nickname held good in your adult life too. Remember that dry-cleaning business you persuaded me to invest in? 

JIMMY: Don’t I just! Worst decision of my life. I thought it would be a doddle: find some suitable premises to rent; get the machines installed, hire some staff, and off you go. But it’s not that easy. There’s the advertising, building up your customers. First few months you’re paying out, with hardly anything coming in. You can’t afford to pay staff, so you end up having to do all the work  yourself. The heat, the smell of the dry-cleaning fluid… 

THRING: It must have been dreadful, I’m sure. Mr Soul goes on to say. 

(SOUL’S VOICE) 

SOUL: When the going got tough, you just walked away, leaving me to clear up all 
the mess. Story of your life, eh Jimmy? One failed project after another. The pity of it is, you’re a bright boy – you could have made something of yourself, but you just weren’t prepared to do the hard yards. 

So, here’s the deal: you’re going to get one last chance from beyond the grave to redeem yourself. If you stick rigidly to the conditions I’ve set down and see this challenge through to the end, there will be a substantial reward waiting for you. But if you don’t think you’re up to the challenge, or if you quit halfway through, you get nothing – except my undying contempt. The choice is yours! 

JIMMY: Never one to mince his words, old Rodge. So, what do I have to do to get my reward? 

THRING: It’s a little complicated, I’m afraid. Mr Soul has set down some extremely specific instructions. I quote. 

(SOUL’S VOICE) 

SOUL: I am not a religious man. When you’re dead, you’re dead, as far as I’m concerned. Nor am I a great believer in posterity. It’s what a man does during his allotted span of years that counts. Not big things either. It’s those small acts of kindness and generosity that define him. Having said that, I like the idea of my ashes being returned to the four elements whence they came. 

For that reason, I have left instructions with the firm of undertakers that handled my funeral and cremation that my ashes be divided into four equal shares. I would like them to be strewn in the locations I shall specify below. I nominate Mr James McIver to carry out this request under the supervision of my solicitor, Mr Reginald Thring. To ensure that my wishes have been strictly adhered to, I require Mr McIver to produce genuine photographic evidence as well as documentary proof in the form of travel tickets and hotel receipts. 

Mr Thring will be the final arbiter as to the veracity of the evidence. If he has the slightest shred of doubt, he is empowered to disqualify Mr McIver from receiving the reward. Mr McIver has twenty-four hours from the end of his interview with Mr Thring in which to decide whether he wishes to accept the challenge. If he refuses, or subsequently fails to fulfil the quest, the reward money will be distributed evenly among the charities I have nominated. 

JIMMY: The cunning old devil! He knew I can’t resist a punt, but he’s put all these conditions into the mix so I can’t cheat. I may have been “Skiver McIver”, but he was always rightly known as “Roger The Dodger”! 
 
THRING: So, there you have it, Mr McIver. I’ll need to know your decision in person, 
one way or the other by two forty-five tomorrow afternoon. You’ll be required 
to sign an affidavit if you accept the challenge. 

JIMMY: Then what? 

THRING: Then I reveal the first location, and the date by which the ashes must be 
deposited there. When you have completed the task, you return here with the 
appropriate documentary and photographic evidence. Assuming that to be 
satisfactory, I reveal the second destination. The process is then repeated until 
all four stages of the quest have been fulfilled and ratified. 

JIMMY: So, if I do accept the challenge, how much do I stand to get? 

THRING: I couldn’t possibly say at this stage. Probate has still to be granted and that 
could take months. Mr Soul had a considerable portfolio of stocks, bonds and 
shares, as well as several bank accounts – some of them offshore, I believe. I 
think you can take it that he was a man of considerable means. 

JIMMY: Music to my ears! Well, Mr Thring, I shall give this considerable thought and 
get back to you with my decision in the near future. 

THRING: Very good. Here’s my card for future reference. I look forward to hearing 
from you. Good day, Mr McIver. 

JIMMY: Yeah, see ya. 

FX: SOUND OF DOOR OPENING & CLOSING FOLLOWED BY FOOTSTEPS AND INCIDENTAL MUSIC. X-FADE TO  CARIBBEAN AMBIENT BACKGROUND SOUND 

JIMMY: So, now you know the score. All I have to do is dump four lots of old Rodge’s ashes in different places, take piccies to prove I’ve done as I’m told, then it’s “Pass Go”, and collect a large amount of spondulix! But these things are never as easy as they seem. One problem springs to mind straight away. If I have to take a photo of myself in the act of disposing of the ashes, I’d need three arms at least. 

No, I’m going to need help, an accomplice. Someone who is easily suggestible, doesn’t ask too many questions, and who won’t need paying much for their troubles. I know just the feller – my old mate Dermot Murphy, or “Spud” to his friends. I decided to sound him out before contacting Mr Thring again. I knew where to find Spud – at his favourite watering-hole: “The Dog and Duck”. 

FX: SOUND OF PUB BACKGROUND AMBIENCE 

JIMMY: Wotcher, Spud, my old china. How’s tricks? 

SPUD: Ah well now, Jimmy, the owld lumbago is givin’ me gyp, but otherwise I mustn’t grumble. 

JIMMY: What you having? 

SPUD: Now that’s awful civil of you, sir. I’ll need to give my choice of libation some   
thought. 

JIMMY: Leave it out, Spud. It’s either a pint of the black stuff or a Jameson’s, and 
seeing as I’m in a generous mood, I shall purchase you both of the aforesaid 
beverages. 

SPUD:  My, but you’re waxing lyrical tonight. And I don’t mind if I do. 

JIMMY: Pint of Stella, another Guinness for Spud here, plus a Jameson’s, please Fred. 

FRED: Coming up. 

FX: BACKGROUND SOUND OF DRINKS BEING POURED 

JIMMY: I’m glad I bumped into you, Spud. I’ve got a little business proposition to put 
to you. 

SPUD: It’s nothing illegal, I hope. I’m still on probation, you know. 

JIMMY: Nah, nothing like that. It’s cushti. I swear – on my mother’s grave. 

SPUD: Sure, your mother’s still alive. I saw her last week down the market. 

JIMMY: Yeah, just a figure of speech. You know what I meant. 

SPUD: You shouldn’t joke about things like that – wishing yer mammy into an early 
grave! 

JIMMY: Yeah, ok. 

SPUD: Fine, upstanding woman that she is. 

JIMMY: I’m sorry, alright. It was a slip of the tongue. Although, as it happens, the 
business I wanted to discuss with you does involve death. 

SPUD: Ah now, if it’s bumpin’ somebody off we’re talkin’ about, you can count me 
out. I don’t want anything to do with that sort of caper. 

JIMMY: Nah, It’s nothing like that. What do you take me for? No, all you have to do is 
take a few photos of me spreading this dead guy’s ashes in different places. It’s a piece of cake, and there’ll be some readies in your pocket at the end of it. Whaddya say? 

SPUD: Sounds a bit dodgy to me. Why would you want to be spreading a dead man’s 
ashes around? That’s creepy.

JIMMY: Look, I don’t want to go into detail in a public place. There’s a clock running 
on this and I just need to know if you’ll help me out with this. So, are you in, 
or out? 

SPUD:  Ah well, I’m not sure. This’ll take a bit of time thinking about. 

JIMMY: You mean another pint and a chaser? That sort of thinking time? 

SPUD: You’re a marvel, Jimmy, a real mind-reader! 

FX: X-FADE BAR NOISE WITH CARIBBEAN AMBIENCE 

JIMMY: So, that was Spud on board as my trusty sidekick. He may not be the sharpest 
knife in the drawer, but at least he does as he’s told. Next day I’m back at 
Thring’s office to sign up for old Rodge’s challenge. 

FX: X-FADE CARIBBEAN AMBIENCE WITH SOUND OF A  DOCUMENT BEING SIGNED 

THRING: Then, if you could just sign this additional document. It’s just an insurance 
liability waiver. 

JIMMY: What’s that when it’s at home? 

THRING: Well, in the event of you having some kind of accident or being taken ill during the disposal procedures, you agree not to make a claim for compensation against Mr Soul’s estate. 

JIMMY: That figures. Old Rodge always knew how to cover his back. 

THRING: True, but I believe he also covered yours on several occasions. 

JIMMY: Indeed he did, and I’ll always be grateful.

THRING: Good. So now’s your chance to show your gratitude by carrying out his last 
wish. Sign here, please. 

FX: SOUND OF 2ND DOCUMENT BEING SIGNED 

FX: SOUND OF ENVELOPE BEING OPENED AND DOCUMENT BEING EXTRACTED 

THRING: Thank you. Now, time to learn about your first challenge. The details of each 
stage are contained in separate marked envelopes. 

THRING: (READING) Dear Jimmy, now that you’ve agreed to accept my request, here 
is your first challenge.

SOUL: You are to collect the first metal flask containing a quarter of my remains from 
Martindale and Crossman, the undertakers, who will have been notified of your arrival, and then take it to the eastern end of Platform 3 at Ashford International railway station. You are to throw my ashes in the path of a departing Eurostar train bound for the continent. 

Why there, you may ask? Well, for a few years as a lad, as you may remember, I was a trainspotter. I once persuaded you to come along with me, but it wasn’t your cup of tea, so I never bothered asking you again. I spent many a happy day on that platform collecting train numbers. I was especially taken by the boat trains heading for Dover or Folkestone. I used to watch the passengers sitting in the carriages and wonder what exotic places they were going to on the other side of The Channel. So, it seems a fitting place for some of my ashes to be returned “to earth”. 

You need to expedite this first part of the challenge by June 30th. Good luck, Jimmy.  

JIMMY: We’re already two weeks into June, so it doesn’t give me long. Still, it shouldn’t be too difficult.

FX: SOUND OF CARIBBEAN AMBIENT NOISE 
 
JIMMY: Famous last words! I contact Spud to arrange the day we’re going to Ashford, only to discover he’s laid up with his bad back, so we have to wait until he’s mobile again. It’s Thursday June 29th when we get there, so we’re cutting it fine. 

FX: X-FADE TO BACKGROUND TRAIN STATION TANNOY ANNOUNCEMENTS 

JIMMY: Right, Spud, Platform 3 quick as you can. There’s a Eurostar train due in five minutes. 

FX: SOUND OF 2 SETS OF FOOTSTEPS WALKING QUICKLY 

SPUD: I’m going as fast as me bad back’ll let me. 

JIMMY: OK, here we are: eastern end of Platform 3 – just in time. 

SPUD: (BREATHING HEAVILY) I was just thinkin’… 

JIMMY: Here’s the camera. If you line up the shot, I’ll get the flask out of the bag and 
break the seal. 

SPUD: It’s just… 

JIMMY: Hurry up! The train’ll be here any minute. 

SPUD: But, you know… 

JIMMY: What? 

SPUD: Well, if my memory serves me right, we came in at this end of the station on 
our train from London, so… 

JIMMY: So, what’s your point? 

SPUD: Then I’m thinkin’ this would be the western end, not the eastern. I’m just sayin’, like. 

JIMMY: Shite! 

FX: SOUND OF TRAIN ARRIVING & TANNOY ANNOUNCEMENT 

JIMMY: We’ll never get to the other end of the platform in time now. 

SPUD: Not with my back we won’t. But does it really matter? I mean, one end of a platform looks like the other. Yer man, the solicitor’s not goin’ to know the difference from a photograph. 

FX: SOUND OF GUARD’S WHISTLE   

JIMMY: I wouldn’t bank on it. No, I’ve got to carry out the instructions to the letter, otherwise I won’t get the reward…the reward of knowing that I, er, fulfilled my late friend’s final wishes. 

FX: SOUND OF TRAIN DEPARTING 

SPUD: Sure, dat’s very laudable of yer. I admire a man with integrity. 

JIMMY: (CLEARING HIS THROAT) It’s the least I can do. He was a good friend to me in my times of need. Anyway, let’s make our way slowly to the other end. We’ve missed this train now. We’ll just have to wait for the next one. I’m sure it won’t be long. 

FX: X-FADE TO CARIBBEAN BACKGROUND NOISE 

JIMMY: Wrong! I should’ve been more thorough and checked the timetable beforehand. Eurostar trains don’t stop at Ashford much anymore. They tend to stop at Ebbsfleet then flash through Ashford at a rate of knots. We had to wait 3 hours in the station buffet drinking horrible cups of tea before the next one came along. 

And then that wasn’t the end of the story. I had just managed to empty the ashes on to the track off the end of the platform just as the Eurostar train was pulling out. I could see the driver was looking suspiciously at me. Of course, with all these modern communication devices they have, he must have contacted the station master, because the next thing we hear is. 

FX: X-FADE BACK TO STATION AMBIENT NOISE 

OFFICIAL: Oi, you! What do you think you’re doing? 

JIMMY: Er, nothing. Just watching the trains. We, er…we’re trainspotters. 

OFFICIAL: Oh yeah? Pull the other one. 

SPUD: No, he’s right, sir. That is indeed what we are: spotters of the trains. 

OFFICIAL: Oh really. Well, in that case, seeing as how a train has just left from this very 
platform – one which you presumably “spotted” – yeah? 

SPUD: Indeed, sir, we spotted it. “Spot on”, so to speak. 

OFFICIAL: Well, you’ll be able to tell me its number then, won’t you, ‘cos you’ll have 
written it down in your nice little trainspotting book! 

SPUD: Ah no, sir, that wouldn’t be the case ‘cos I store all the numbers in me head, like. 
I don’t write ’em down. 

FX: X-FADE TO CARIBBEAN AMBIENT NOISE 

JIMMY: It’s at this point, just as I’m about to say, “Ok, mate, yeah you’ve got us bang to rights” that Spud reveals a hitherto unknown talent. He’s got a photographic memory. Not only can he tell this jobsworth the numbers of the Eurostar train that’s just left, but he starts reeling off the numbers of trains that have been coming in and out of Ashford station over the last 3 hours. You should have seen the look on the jobsworth’s face. It was priceless. If his jaw had dropped any lower, it would’ve covered his navel! I then chip in and say I never bother  bringing a notebook either, ‘cos I just get my mate with the amazing memory to tell me all the numbers when we get home. And when he asks what was being emptied off the end of the platform, I hold up the flask and tell him it was the last of the tea we’d brought with us while we were “trainspotting”. 

And he swallowed it: hook, line and sinker. Lets us off with a caution for “dropping liquid litter”, as he put it, and off we go – later than planned, but with Stage One of the quest successfully completed. 

FX: X-FADE TO SOUND OF PAPERS BEING RUSTLED 

THRING: Well, that all seems to be in order. The date on your train ticket and 
photographs confirms that the ashes were indeed emptied on to the track at 
Ashford station on Thursday June 29th. So, on to the second instalment.

FX: SOUND OF ENVELOPE BEING OPENED & PAPERS BEING WITHDRAWN 

THRING: (READING) “Congratulations, Jimmy, on completing the first stage 
successfully. Things get a little more demanding from here-on in, but I’m 
relying on your powers of invention and ingenuity to see you through…” 

JIMMY: I might’ve guessed he’d make life difficult for me. “No pain, no gain” was one 
of his favourite sayings. 

THRING: "This is your second challenge…" 

 (SOUL’S VOICE IS AGAIN HEARD UNDERNEATH THRING’S AND GRADUALLY TAKES OVER THE NARRATION)

 SOUL: My first lot of ashes went on to the earth. I would like my second lot to be spread on water – on the sea, to be precise. When I was a boy we had a family holiday one year on the Firth of Clyde in Scotland. They used to have pleasure boats, steamers that plied up and down the waters, calling in at the various  resorts and offering cruises to the lochs and out to the Isle of Arran and the Mull of Kintyre. My father took me on this particular cruise round Ailsa Craig. It’s a small, uninhabited island that sticks out of the sea. Its nickname is “Bun Island” because it looks just like one. It is home to thousands of seabirds that nest and breed on it: gannets, guillemots and puffins. I always remember that day. It was gloriously sunny and when the steamer sounded its hooter, a great cloud of birds took off from the island in fright. 

The pleasure steamers are all long gone now – apart from one. She’s a paddle steamer, the last sea-going paddle steamer in the world, called “The Waverley”, and she still does a cruise to Ailsa Craig from Glasgow in the summer. So, Jimmy, get yourself booked on to her and strew my ashes over “the briney” as close to “Bun Island” as you can get. I would like this stage to be completed by the end of August. 

JIMMY: The Waverley? That rings a bell. I think I’ve read something about her somewhere. But I guess I’ll need to do a bit of internet browsing to find out more details. 

THRING: This challenge shouldn’t prove too difficult for someone with your resourcefulness. 

JIMMY: Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll find out all the necessary info, then go 
and collect the second flask from the undertakers. 

THRING: Bon voyage – literally

JIMMY: Yeah, “Bonjour, matelot” to you too! 

FX: SOUND OF DOOR OPENING & CLOSING; X-FADE TO CARIBBEAN AMBIENCE 

JIMMY: So, I do all the necessary interweb research and discover that this paddle steamer only does three cruises to Ailsa Craig during July and August on a Monday, and it means getting to Glasgow for ten o’clock in the morning. I rarely get out of bed before eleven so that’s going to make life awkward, to say the least. Plus, when I talk over my plans with Mr “Spud” Murphy in the pub that evening, it gets even more complicated. 

FX: X-FADE TO BACKGROUND PUB NOISE 

SPUD: Ah no, I don’t think I could manage that. 

JIMMY: Why not? 

SPUD: What? Stay overnight in a hotel in Glasgow. Oh no, out of the question! 

JIMMY: You’ve been banned there as well, have you? 

SPUD: Very funny. No, I can’t leave Micky all on his own for two days. He needs 
feeding and walking. 

JIMMY: Can’t you get someone else to look after him? A neighbour? 

SPUD: You’re jokin’! I wouldn’t trust any of my neighbours with lookin’ after my 
dog. Thieves and vagabonds, the lot of’em. Nah, yer’ll have to do this one on 
yer ownio. 

JIMMY: Kennels? You could put him in a kennel for a couple of days. 

SPUD: What? D’yer think I’m made of money? 

JIMMY: I’ll pay. 

SPUD: Can I have that in writing? 

JIMMY: Scout’s Honour, I will pay for you to put your dog Micky into a reputable 
kennels for two days and nights. 

SPUD: You were never in the Scouts. Why would you go to all that trouble? 

JIMMY: Because I need you to be there to take the “money-shot”. 

SPUD: “Money-shot”? Yer not plannin’ on doin’ a porno film, I hope. I’m not into 
any of that kind of stuff! 

JIMMY: It was a figure of speech, Spud! I mean I need you to be there clicking that shutter at the exact moment I heave old Roger’s ashes over the side of the boat. And preferably at least a couple more of them lying on the water. 

SPUD: I don’t like boats. I get awful seasick. Reminds me of the time I first sailed 
over here. Puked me guts up all the way across the Irish Sea. 

JIMMY: It’ll be fine. This trip’s in sheltered waters at the height of summer. It’ll be like 
a mill-pond. 

FX: X-FADE TO CARIBBEAN BACKGROUND SOUND 

JIMMY: “Commentator’s Curse”, as it turned out. The trip started out alright. We put 
Spud’s dog into a highly recommended kennels, which cost me an arm and a leg. Bloody mutt was staying in plusher conditions than we were to enjoy in Glasgow! Anyway, we catch a train from Euston, which gets delayed, of course, so it’s quite late by the time we find this cheap hotel I’ve booked us into. I’d asked for separate rooms, but there was only one double left by the time we roll in. 

Great! So I have to spend a sleepless night listening to Spud snoring for Scotland. I manage to get up at half eight feeling like death, rouse Spud, and we head down for some breakfast. We both plump for the “Full Scottish” – haggis, black pudding, the works. Another bad decision in the long run. Then we get lost trying to find the boat, and only just make the quayside as it’s about to leave. 

FX: X-FADE TO SOUND OF GANGPLANK BEING REMOVED &  SHIP’S TELEGRAPH BELLS SIGNALLING “SLOW ASTERN” 

SPUD: (PANTING HEAVILY) I didn’t think we’d make it! 

JIMMY: (ALSO PANTING) I told you your forty-a-day habit would catch up with you.

SPUD: Well, you’re not in such great shape yourself. 

JIMMY: Yeah, I keep promising myself I’ll start going to the gym, but somehow I 
never seem to make it. 

FX: SHIP’S TELEGRAPH BELLS SIGNAL “SLOW AHEAD” THEN THE SOUND OF THE SLOW BEAT OF THE PADDLES 

PURSER: (OVER TANNOY) Welcome aboard The Waverley, the last sea-going paddle steamer in the world. During today’s sailing we’ll be calling at Largs and Ayr, before doing an afternoon cruise round Ailsa Craig. 

Passengers without a valid ticket should purchase one now from the Purser’s office, which is situated in the aft saloon on the promenade deck. Passengers who booked on-line will still need to obtain a valid ticket. Please present yourself along with your booking voucher at the Purser’s Office. 

On behalf of the captain and crew of The Waverley, we wish you a pleasant voyage. Thank you. 

FX: SHIP’S TELEGRAPH BELLS SIGNAL “FULL SPEED AHEAD” BEAT OF THE PADDLES ACCELERATES 

JIMMY: Right, I’d better go and get the tickets. Look after the hold-all. 

SPUD: I’ll come wid yer. 

JIMMY: If you must. I won’t be long. 

SPUD: I know, but I don’t like bein’ on me own in strange places. I’ve got that what d'ya call it…”Agoraphobia”. 

JIMMY: Trust you to have a Guardian reader-type complex!  

SPUD:  I’m a very “complex” person, I’ll have you know. 

JIMMY: Who told you that – your shrink? Come on, then. This way.  

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS THEN SLIDING DOOR OPENING & CLOSING. INTERIOR AMBIENT SOUND 

PURSER: Yes, sir? 

JIMMY: Er, two tickets for the cruise, please. 

PURSER: Very good, sir. That’ll be £70, please. 

JIMMY: I can pay by credit card, can’t I? 

PURSER: Oh yes. She may be an old ship, but we’ve got all the modern technology on 
board. If you’d just like to put your card in the machine and enter your PIN number. 

FX: SOUND OF PIN NUMBER BEING ENTERED 

JIMMY: Hm, that’s odd. It’s saying it’s an invalid number. 

PURSER: If you’d like to try again, sir? 

FX: SOUND OF PIN NUMBER BEING RE-ENTERED 

JIMMY: Still no go! Erm, this is a bit embarrassing. I changed my PIN number recently, and I obviously haven’t remembered the new one correctly. 

PURSER: I know, sir, it’s easily done. 

JIMMY: I’ve only got one more go. It’s three strikes and you’re out in this situation. 

PURSER: Do you have another card, or method of payment? It’s your call, sir. 

JIMMY: Well no. I haven’t got seventy quid on me in cash, and I didn’t bring any other 
credit cards with me. 

SPUD: Try 6011. 

JIMMY:  What?  

SPUD: Go on, 6011. That’s your number. I’d stake me life on it. 

JIMMY: You’re having a laugh. 

SPUD: No, seriously, that’s your PIN number. 

JIMMY: How the hell do you know that? Are you psychic, or something? 

SPUD: No, I watched you punch that number into the machine yesterday when you 
were buying our train tickets. And I thought: “That’s funny, that’s me birthday 
in reverse. 6011 – the eleventh of June! So it stuck in me mind. 

FX: SOUND OF PIN NUMBER BEING ENTERED, ACCEPTED & 
         RECEIPT PRINTED 

JIMMY: Spud, you’re a bloody marvel! A nosey parker for spying on me like that, but in this case I’ll overlook it. 

PURSER: Here are your tickets, receipt and card, sir. Have a nice day. 

JIMMY: Thanks. Right, let’s go back outside. 

FX: SOUND OF DOOR SLIDING OPEN & CLOSING. CHANGE TO 
         OUTDOOR AMBIENCE. FOOTSTEPS ON DECK 

JIMMY: (BREATHING IN) I love the smell of the sea. Just think, there were working shipyards all along here when this boat was built. 

SPUD: 1946. 

JIMMY: Alright, Richard Osman. Go on, then, how do you know that?

SPUD: It’s on that bloody big plaque in there. I was reading it while you were getting 
the tickets. 

JIMMY: Yeah, yeah. Just hand me the camera out of the hold-all so I can take a photo 
or two. 

SPUD:  What hold-all? 

JIMMY: What d’yer mean, “What hold-all”? The hold-all containing the camera and 
the ashes. That hold-all! 

SPUD: I haven’t got it. You had it last. 

JIMMY: No! I said I was going for the tickets, and for you to look after it while I was 
gone. But then you decided you had to come along too ‘cos of your “agoraphobia”, so I assumed you would bring the hold-all as well. 

SPUD: But you never actually handed it to me. 

JIMMY: That’s ‘cos I assumed you would pick it up when you followed me, you great 
plonker! 

SPUD: Don’t you be callin’ me names. If I hadn’t followed you, you wouldn’t have 
been able to put the right PIN number in the machine, and then we’d have 
been thrown off the boat at the next stop! 

JIMMY: Ok, ok! Blaming each other isn’t going to get us very far. The fact is the hold-
all’s gone. Some thieving git must’ve half-inched it. Bet they’ve pocketed the 
camera and slung the bag over the side by now. Just great! I knew this trip’d 
be jinxed. I had a feeling in my water. 

SPUD: Well, why don’t we split up and go round the boat. Yer never know, we might 
get lucky and find it. 

JIMMY: Pigs might fly, you mean. (SIGHS) Yeah, you’re right. It’s worth a try. I’ll go 
up the front end, you take the back. 

SPUD: I think you’re supposed to say “fore” and “aft” when you’re on a boat. 

JIMMY: Whatever! We’ll meet back here. 

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS 

PURSER: (OVER TANNOY) Would Mr J. McIver please report to the Purser’s office immediately, please? 

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS FOLLWED BY DOOR SLIDING OPEN 
        THEN CLOSING 

JIMMY: You called my name over the PA. What’s the problem? 

PURSER: Oh, it’s you again. Mr McIver, I take it. 

JIMMY: The very same. What’s up? 

PURSER: Lost anything? 

JIMMY: Might have. 

PURSER: You don’t sound entirely sure. 

JIMMY: Well yes, I do seem to have, er…mislaid an item. 

PURSER: An item? And what sort of item did you have in mind, may I ask? 

JIMMY: Er…a small hold-all type item. 

PURSER: And what would be contained inside this “small hold-all type item”? 

JIMMY: What is this – “twenty questions”? If you must know: a camera, a toothbrush 
and toothpaste… and some underwear. 

PURSER: Anything else? 

JIMMY: (RELUCTANTLY) Er, yeah, a flask. 

PURSER: Is the right answer! 

FX: SOUND OF HOLD-ALL BEING HANDED OVER 

PURSER: There you go, sir. Fortunately, a public-spirited passenger handed it in. You 
need to keep it close by you at all times in future. Any unattended baggage could be considered a security risk, sir. 

JIMMY: (RELIEVED) Yes, thank you. I’ll be more careful in future. 

FX: X-FADE TO CARIBBEAN AMBIENT NOISE 

JIMMY: I had hoped that would be the end of the unwished-for excitement for the day, 
but no, there was more to come. We sail down the Clyde to Ayr, where we take on more passengers for the cruise to Ailsa Craig and where I’m to drop off old Rodge’s second lot of ashes. The weather having been quite warm and fine suddenly changes. A sea fret comes in, the wind gets up and the heavens  open. Spud and me stay below decks in the bar sinking a few beers till we get closer to “Bun Island”. Then it’s time to go and brave the elements. 

FX: X-FADE TO SOUND OF PADDLE WHEELS BEATING .  AMBIENT BAR NOISE 

JIMMY: Can you see it yet? 

SPUD:  You can hardly see ten yards in front of you, the mist’s down so much. 

JIMMY: Well, in that case, we might as well go and get it over with. It’s not going to 
make much difference to Rodge if his ashes are half a mile from Ailsa Craig or five and a half miles away. He’ll be in the neighbourhood. It’s the thought that counts. We’ll go out up front, sorry, “Fore”. It’ll be empty there. 

SPUD: Is it my imagination, or is this boat startin’ to rock and roll? 

JIMMY: Yeah, it’s just a bit of swell. You’ll be fine. Come on, on your feet? 

FX: SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS CLIMBING WOODEN STAIRS THEN DOOR BEING SLID OPEN. OUTDOOR AMBIENCE WITH WIND & RAIN. CONSTANT BACKGROUND SOUND OF PADDLE WHEELS BEATING 

JIMMY: (SHOUTING INTO THE WIND) Right, Spud, let’s do this ASAP! Here’s the 
camera. I’ll get the flask out. Be ready to fire off a few shots. 

SPUD: I don’t feel too good. I think I’m goin’ to be.. 

FX: SOUND OF VIOLENT VOMITING 

JIMMY: Oh no! Come on, Spud, get it together. I need you take the photos. 

SPUD: (COUGHING & HAWKING) I’m dyin’ here! 

JIMMY: Plenty of time for that later. Just prop yourself up against the rail and get ready 
to press the button. 

SPUD: Ach! I’ve got sick all down the front of me coat. 

JIMMY: Never mind that. You can clean that up later. Just hold that camera steady for 
a minute while I do the business and then it’ll all be over. 

SPUD: (MOANING) I just wanna die

JIMMY: What? You want me to chuck you over the side along with the ashes? I don’t 
think so. Right, get ready to shoot. One, two, three, Geronimo!  

FX: SOUND OF ASHES HITTING SPUD’S COAT

SPUD: (MORE COUGHING & SPITTING) Argh no! I’ve got ashes all over me front  
now. Ach, that’s gross!  

JIMMY: (LAUGHING) What a state! You should just see yourself! Quick, give me the 
camera. I need to have some evidence that I did throw the ashes over the side. 

FX: SOUND OF CAMERA SHOTS BEING TAKEN 

 JIMMY: Then we’ll have a couple of you, Mr Murphy, in all your glory! (MORE  
LAUGHTER) 

FX: SOUND OF MORE CAMERA SHOTS BEING TAKEN 

 JIMMY: Heh, heh! Now that’s what I call a “money-shot”! 

SPUD:  It’s not funny. Can we please get back inside? I’m tied to a cow’s tail and  
scuttered to death here. 

FX: X-FADE FROM OUTDOOR SEASCAPE TO CARIBBEAN AMBIENT SOUND 

JIMMY: So, we’d completed the second stage of the challenge – after a fashion. I was  
concerned that Thring wouldn’t accept the photographs as sufficient evidence  ‘cos most of the ashes had ended up pebble-dashed on the front of Spud’s coat  instead of on the surface of the sea. 

What added insult to injury was that half  an hour later the weather changed again, the mist lifted, and the sun came out.  We had a lovely, clear view of Ailsa Craig and all the birds. Spud still wasn’t talking to me, so the atmosphere on the homeward journey was frosty, to say the least. The day after we got back to London, I called Thring to arrange our next meeting. 

FX: X-FADE TO SOUND OF PHONE RINGTONE FOLLOWED BY ANSWERPHONE MESSAGE 

THRING: You have reached the number of Reginald Thring, solicitor. I’m afraid the 
office is closed until further notice. Please address all enquiries in writing. They will be dealt with in due course. Thank you for calling.” 

FX: X-FADE BACK TO CARIBBEAN AMBIENCE 

JIMMY: I went round to Thring’s office in person and found it all shut up and looking 
distinctly unoccupied. Had he gone out of business? Or been taken ill? He  hadn’t looked particularly healthy the last time I saw him. 

Either way, my  chances of completing Roger Soul’s challenge and collecting a nice, fat pay-out, were now looking decidedly dodgy! I began to wonder if this was ll some kind of hoax, and whether Roger Soul was having a massive joke at my expense from the beyond the grave. 

FX: FADE UP INTRO MUSIC DURING JIMMY’S LAST SPEECH LOWER THE VOLUME DURING CREDITS THEN RAISE  AGAIN BEFORE FINAL FADE 

ANNOUNCER: In Episode One of ASHES TO ASHES by Nigel Banks the part of Jimmy  
 McIver was played by Mike Rivarno, “Spud” Murphy by Mike Ayris, Reginald Thring by Nigel Banks, and Roger Soul by Jim Newberry. Other parts were played by members of the cast. Sound effects and editing were done by Robbie Burgess. This was an Old Dolly production. 


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