Oliver Soden

A geriatric Lord of the Flies: Killing Time, by Alan Bennett, reviewed

Chaos reigns at an old people’s home when Covid strikes, but the more rebellious residents won’t take the situation lying down

Alan Bennett. [Getty Images] 
issue 02 November 2024

Somewhere, there must be a PhD: Flashing: Exhibitionistic Disorder in the Oeuvre of Alan Bennett. It’s there in the first of his Talking Heads monologues (‘He’s been had up for exposing himself in Sainsbury’s doorway – as mother said, Tesco, you could understand it’) and in the last, Waiting for the Telegram, which opened with Thora Hird, one-time presenter of Songs of Praise, saying: ‘I saw this feller’s what-do-you-call-it today.’

It takes three pages for a what-do-you-call-it to appear in Killing Time, Bennett’s new novella, which is set in Hill Topp House old people’s home. Mr Woodruff, a resident, is indefatigable, his self-exposure a running motif as ‘not for the first time, he tried to show Audrey his willy’. It’s the detail that distinguishes the line (‘tried to’). Mr Woodruff finds that incontinence pads hinder his usually virtuosic display.

It’s at the bottom of Killing Time’s first page when anyone ignorant of whom they were reading might suspect Alan Bennett.

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