Who Killed Mrs White?

Mrs White is to be killed off from the game of Cluedo.

Her replacement is Dr Orchid, the adopted daughter of victim Dr Black. Dr Orchid is a biologist with a degree in plant toxicology and was privately educated in Switzerland until her expulsion after a near-fatal poisoning, involving daffodils. She was then home educated by none other than Mrs White, the Housekeeper of the Tudor Mansion. Are you still with me at this point?

I’m a bit sad about this as I believe that I would get on rather well with Mrs White. She seems the type to smoke cigars, roll-ups and a pipe all at the same time. I bet she also likes the occasional can of Mackeson Stout and sometimes sneaks a swig of cooking sherry from the bottle when she is alone in the kitchen. I can’t see me getting on with Dr Orchid at all. Firstly she makes me feel stupid because I don’t know anything about plants or toxicology and is clearly much more intelligent than me. Secondly she’s bound to be younger, slimmer, taller and prettier than me and she knows it. I bet she has a sports car, Jimmy Choo shoes and only shops at Harvey Nicks. No, I would much rather sit and chill (Swadge) with Mrs White, as after you’d finished your can of Mackeson she would serve up Cheddar cheese, pickled onions and pineapple chunks on cocktail sticks. If you were to ever drop in unannounced, she would immediately put the kettle on and produce an enormous teapot with a home knitted tea cosy. She would use cups and saucers on a Sunday afternoon and her salmon sandwiches would be cut into triangles and have the crusts cut off. She would use one of those lovely 3 tiered cake stands that was her Grandmother’s; and she would make more sandwiches when it became empty. She would make homemade wine from peapods and parsnip tops, jam from blackberries and chutney from green tomatoes. She would have porridge for breakfast every morning and fish for dinner every Friday. She would also remove newspapers from the bin so that she could do the crossword.

Her vacuum of choice would be a Kirby and she would iron all items of clothing including her bed socks, which were a gift from her employer. On her day off she would go to town on the bus and make sure no-one was watching as she ducked into the Bookies. She would be on first name terms with the cashier but would refuse to have an account.

She would wear tweed and those shoes that ladies only acquire through the reading of wills. Those shoes with the penny loafer effect at the toe and an inch and a half sturdy heel at the rear. She would wear thick scratchy woollen tights and never be seen in slacks. I thought at first she would also have a dog; and I couldn’t decide if she would have an overweight Labrador or an ancient terrier with glazed eyes that had its own chair in her parlour, but actually I think Mrs White wouldn’t have either. She wouldn’t like the hairs on her furniture, you see. Because Mrs White would be immaculate at all times, even after a can of Stout. She would be stern, with a sour look on her face that says “do not cross me” to mask the fact that she is a kind person who thrives on routine. She would run the Cluedo Mansion with the piece of lead piping and even though there are 324 possibilities, she knows damn fine who killed Dr Black in the Hall with the candlestick. But she says nothing, as it isn’t her place, you see.

Once you really got to know her, the teacups on a Sunday afternoon would be full of brandy and she would pass on her betting tips to you. Sometimes she might even give you a tenner to buy yourself something nice, as Saucy Lad had won the 3.20 at Kempton and she had backed him at 25 to 1.

But I’ve just realised two things. For a start I’ve just described my Granny; and also, that Cluedo is just a bloody game.