Title: Niddling About
Fandom: Dear Ladies
Rating: G
Length: 2,092
Author notes: "Niddle" is a Scots word, which Dr. Hinge informs us means "to rush about." I haven't been able to find that particular definition for it, but I trust that dear lady completely... Happy Niddling Thursday to all Hinge and Bracket fans everywhere!
Summary: Just who will be taking on the title role for the re-enactment of The Legend of Crazy Kate?

Hilda stared at the newly-circled date on the kitchen calendar.

Now what could it be..? The start of Evadne’s holiday in Whitley Bay? No, that would be November not September. The next meeting of her wine circle? Hilda shook her head. Surely that came later in the month. The harvest festival perhaps. But that wouldn’t be on a Thursday, would it..?

Hilda’s eyes widened. “Thursday!”

She hurried into the living room.



“You’ve marked it on the calendar!” said Hilda.

“Eh?” Evadne looked up from her book. “What are you talking about, Hilda?”

“The second Thursday in September!That ridiculous legend! ” Hilda sat down in her armchair and glared at Evadne. “The one we re-enacted last year. Crazy Kate or whatever her name was—causing a drought and getting chucked in a well. Widdling Thursday.”

Evadne frowned and set her book next to her on the settee.

“It’s Niddling Thursday, Hilda. And you’re getting the details a little confused. Kate wasn’t responsible for the drought—she was blamed for it by the local populace because she was poor, crazed and had a hunchback. And she got into the well to hide from the mob that was chasing her—before being transformed into a beautiful and elegant lady by a magical frog, and the drought coming to an end.” Evadne raised an eyebrow at Hilda. “I thought you might have remembered that bit, considering you were the one playing Kate after her transformation.”

Hilda coolly returned her gaze. “I definitely remember being down the well...”

Evadne shifted awkwardly. “Yes. Well. I did explain about that. As I told you, that wretched boy playing Crazy Kate had set off running towards the Macklesham well instead of the Stackton one, so Major Dirrenforth and myself had to divert him and his pursuers back.”

“But you could have pulled me up first, instead of just going off like that!” cried Hilda. “I was in that well for hours!”

“Oh, don’t exaggerate, Hilda. It was half an hour at the most,” said Evadne.

Hilda stared at her steadily. “Half an hour is rather a long time. When one is trapped in a well.”

Evadne gave her a weak smile. “Yes, I do take your point. And once again, I apologise.”

Hilda nodded graciously, and settled back in her chair. “But why have you got it marked on the calendar? I wouldn’t have thought you’d want to be reminded of it after that debacle last year. You’re surely not thinking of having another go?”

“Well, yes,” said Evadne. She gave a little shrug. “We discussed it at the last council meeting and everyone agreed it was worth another try. Apart from those small… hiccups—”

Hilda sat up straight. “Hiccups—?”

Evadne waved Hilda’s interruption away. “As I say, apart from a few hiccups, it was quite successful. It attracted tourists and locals alike, everyone enjoyed it, and shopkeepers reported takings going up significantly on the day.”

“So you’re actually doing it again?” said Hilda. “With another member of the rugger club playing Crazy Kate, I suppose?” She threw up her hands. “This time everyone will probably end up in Bury St. Edmunds!”

“No...” said Evadne, carefully. “We decided it was best not to risk another occurrence of... high spirits. The Major has a nephew, Rupert, who is a talented amateur cross country runner. He is respectable, reliable and…” Evadne beamed at Hilda. “...when the Major asked him to take part, he even said he would arrange his own costume!”

Hilda looked away, holding up a hand. “Well, on your own head be it. I will have nothing to do with this. You’re not convincing me to get down that well again, I don’t care how you beg.”

Evadne raised her eyebrows. “I wasn’t going to beg.”

Hilda ignored her. “I simply refuse to do it—I really do.”

“Yes, that’s fine,” said Evadne.

“You will have to find someone else to take the part, that’s all I can say.” Hilda looked down, smoothing out her skirt.

“But that’s the thing. I have found someone else,” said Evadne.

Hilda’s head snapped up. “Someone else? Who?”

Evadne gave her a pointed look. “Me.”

“You?” Hilda stared at her. “You?” She started to laugh. “You as the beautiful and elegant...” Hilda wiped the tears from her eyes. “Oh, that’s very funny, dear. For a moment I actually believed that—”

Hilda became aware of the severe expression Evadne was directing at her, and abruptly stopped laughing.

“You mean, you really are…”

Evadne straightened her shoulders. “Why on earth shouldn’t I play the role?”

“Well…” Hilda hesitated. “It’s just that your dress sense is so… utilitarian.” She waved both hands in the air. “You need someone with elegance… Flair… Style…”

Evadne looked at her. “Like you, you mean.”

“Well, yes…” Hilda smiled coyly and inclined her head. “And… as it looks like you’re so desperately in need of someone, perhaps I could be persuaded to change my mind and—”

“No, Hilda. It’s all been arranged now.” Evadne picked up her book.

“But I really want to help,” said Hilda. “Do something for Stackton.”

“What you mean is that you want to have the starring role in the triumphal procession away from the well, and have everyone make a fuss of you.” Evadne raised an eyebrow. “You’re simply envious that I’m going to be the centre of attention for once.”

She began turning the pages of her book, looking for her place.

“That,” said Hilda with dignity, “is completely unfair. I am prepared to help in any way I can.”

Evadne glanced up at her. “If you’re looking for a part, dear, I suppose you could always be the frog.” She looked back down at the page. “You do appear a little green at the moment.”

And Evadne smirked as Hilda looked at her in outrage.





Niddling Thursday had finally arrived, and Hilda and Evadne were making their way to the well in the Rolls—Evadne resplendent in her costume of ankle-length, midnight blue velvet gown and silver wimple. She glanced over at Hilda and sighed.

“I am grateful that you agreed to help, you know. I need someone I can trust lowering and raising the bucket.”

Hilda kept her eyes on the road as she drove but inclined her head. “Well, I’m glad that you finally realised that I am perfectly capable of wanting to take part out of entirely unselfish reasons.”

Evadne furrowed her brow. “Hilda, I never seriously—”

But Hilda interrupted her. “It’s all forgotten,” she said with dignity. “Let’s... just get on with the day.”

She came to a stop, parked the Rolls and the two of them walked the short distance to Culpepper Alley, where the well was situated.

“Right then.” Evadne hitched up her gown, and got neatly onto the parapet surrounding the dry and shallow well. The reinforced bucket was already safely in position, so Evadne stepped in, sat down and smiled at Hilda.

“Ready when you are!”

Hilda began turning the handle to lower the bucket and Evadne slowly disappeared downwards.

“I’m almost at the bottom!” she called.

There was a small thump and the rope relaxed. Hilda looked over the edge.

Evadne looked back up at her. “I’m fine, dear. Now, if you would, keep an eye out for Rupert and be ready to wind me up again.”

Hilda looked thoughtful. “You know, I don’t even know what he looks like.”

Evadne raised an eyebrow. “He’ll be the one dressed as Crazy Kate and running at full pelt while chased by a mob. I doubt you’ll be able to miss him.”

“No,” said Hilda. “No, what I mean is: hasn’t this all been thrown together in a bit of a rush? You haven’t met Rupert, you don’t even know what his costume is like…”

“Please, Hilda,” said Evadne, somewhat superciliously, “Crazy Kate’s costume is rags and a bit of dirt on the face. I’m certain he would be able to manage that. It’s not as if—”

But something else appeared to have caught Hilda’s attention, and she abruptly moved away from the top of the well.

“Hilda?” called up Evadne. “What’s happening? Can you see Rupert?”

Hilda came back into view. “Er, yes. Yes, I can.”

Evadne smiled. “Good. How far away is he?”

“He’s standing next to me,” said Hilda.

Evadne frowned. “He’s here? But I don’t quite understand. I can’t hear the mob.”

“I think there may have been a bit of confusion,” said Hilda.

She turned and beckoned to someone, and suddenly a young man in raspberry velvet and a golden wimple was beside her looking down at Evadne.

“Hello, Dr. Hinge,” said Rupert. “I… seem to have got the wrong end of the stick.”

“Oh, God,” said Evadne.

Hilda nodded. “Rupert thought he was supposed to start from here in all his finery and then lead the town in a triumphal gallop through the streets.”

Rupert smiled in embarrassment. “I really must apologise.”

Hilda turned to him. “Oh, you mustn’t worry, dear. These things happen.”

Evadne nodded in agreement from down the well.

“And anyway it’s the Doctor’s fault.”

Evadne glared at Hilda but unfortunately Hilda was looking in the wrong direction.

“She should have contacted you personally to make sure you knew exactly what was happening.” Hilda gave Rupert a sympathetic look. “And you went to all that trouble of hiring that beautiful dress.”

Rupert smoothed down his frock a little self consciously. “Well, actually… I did have this knocking about in the wardrobe already.”

“Did you, dear..?” Hilda gave him an awkward smile. “Well, that’s… lovely.” She looked down the well again. “Hello, Evadne? Look, I’ll drive Rupert back to the starting point for the chase, and then I’ll come back here, ready to wind you up for the big transformation scene.”

Evadne frowned. “But what about his Crazy Kate costume? He can’t run like that—he has to be in rags.”

“Oh, we’ll stop by Utopia Ltd,” said Hilda. “He can borrow something of yours.”

Evadne gave Hilda a very hard look indeed.

However, Hilda was beckoning to Rupert. “Come on then, dear. Let’s get going.”

“Wait! Hilda!” called Evadne. “Aren’t you going to wind me up before you go?”

Hilda leaned over the edge of the well, and gave her a grin. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll only be half an hour at the most.”

And she left, leaving Evadne fuming at the bottom of the well.



Hilda was surprised when she eventually returned to find a rather dishevelled Evadne back on the surface, standing next to the well and winding the bucket up.

“Good heavens. How did you get out?” said Hilda, hurrying over.

Evadne glared at her. “There are hand and footholds cut into the side of the well for just such an emergency. If you recall the legend, Kate did manage to clamber out on her own too.”

The bucket was now back up at the top, and Evadne made to step up onto the parapet again.

“But Evadne!” said Hilda. “You can’t do the transformation scene now!”

Evadne rolled her eyes. “What on earth are you talking about, Hilda? They’ll be here any minute!”

Hilda dug in her handbag and pulled out her compact. She opened it and passed it over.

Evadne furrowed her brow in confusion but looked into the mirror.

“Oh.”

Hilda nodded and sighed. “You’ve made rather a mess of your nice frock climbing out.”

Evadne brushed helplessly at the mud and lichen on her skirts. “My dress is ruined! You’re right—I can’t be the transformed Kate like this!” She stared at Hilda. “What are we going to do? There isn’t time for me to go home and change.”

Hilda tilted her head coquettishly. “Well, I suppose… I could do it instead.”

“But in your ordinary frock?” said Evadne.

Hilda looked most affronted. “None of my frocks are ordinary!” She looked Evadne up and down. “And anyway, I’ll still look a great deal more elegant than you will.”

Evadne looked daggers at her. “Fine!” She pulled off her wimple. “You may as well have this then.”

“Thank you, dear.” Hilda took it with a gracious smile, and putting it on, she stepped onto the parapet and then settled herself down into the bucket.

“You know, Hilda,” said Evadne, as she took hold of the handle, “you were quite right. We should never have attempted this again. It’s been a complete mess from beginning to end.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” smiled Hilda as she began to descend, giving a regal wave. “I would have said: ‘All’s well that ends well…’”