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Three Plays Page 3
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SIDNEY: Er–Mrs Brewster-Wright, I wonder if you’d both …
MARION: Oh, yes, we’re just coming. We can’t tear ourselves away from your divine kitchen, can we, Ronnie? [Turning to RONALD, holding up the fingers of one hand and mouthing] Five minutes. RONALD: Righto.
[They all go out, closing the door]
[Silence]
[JANE enters with an empty bowl. She hurries to the cupboard and takes out a jumbo bag of crisps and pours them into the bowl. She is turning to leave when the door opens again and SIDNEY hurries in, looking a little fraught]
SIDNEY: Tonic water. We’ve run out.
JANE: Tonic water. Down there in the cupboard.
SIDNEY: Right.
JANE: Do you think it’s going all right?
SIDNEY: Fine, fine. Now get back, get back there.
JANE: [as she goes] Will you ask Lottie to stop eating all these crisps? Nobody else has had any.
[JANE goes out closing the door behind her]
[SIDNEY searches first one cupboard, then another, but cannot find any tonic]
SIDNEY: Oh dear, oh dear.
[SIDNEY hurries back to the party closing the door behind him. After a second JANE enters looking worried, closing the door behind her]
[She searches where SIDNEY has already searched. She finds nothing]
JANE: Oh. [She wanders in rather aimless circles round the kitchen]
[SIDNEY enters with a glass with gin and a slice of lemon in it. He closes the door]
SIDNEY: Is it there?
JANE: Yes, yes. Somewhere …
SIDNEY: Well, come along. She’s waiting.
JANE: I’ve just–got to find it.…
SIDNEY: Oh dear, oh dear.
JANE: I tidied them away somewhere.
SIDNEY: Well, there was no point in tidying them away, was there? We’re having a party.
JANE: Well–it just looked–tidier. You go back in, I’ll bring them.
SIDNEY: Now that was your responsibility. We agreed buying the beverages was your department. I hope you haven’t let us down.
JANE: No. I’m sure I haven’t.
SIDNEY: Well, it’s very embarrassing for me in the meanwhile, isn’t it? Mrs Brewster-Wright is beginning to give me anxious looks.
JANE: Oh.
SIDNEY: Well then.
[SIDNEY goes back in]
[JANE stands helplessly. She gives a little whimper of dismay. She is on the verge of tears. Then a sudden decision. She goes to a drawer, reaches to the back and brings out her housekeeping purse. She opens it and takes out some coins. She runs to the centre of the room and looks at the clock]
JANE: Nineteen-twenty-one. [Hurried calculation] Thirteen–fourteen–fifteen–sixteen–seventeen–eighteen–nineteen … seven-twenty-two. [She hurries to the back door and opens it. She holds out her hand, takes a tentative step out and then a hasty step back again. She is again in a dilemma. She closes the back door. She goes to the cupboard just inside the door and, after rummaging about, she emerges holding a pair of men’s large wellington boots in one hand and a pair of plimsolls in the other. Mentally tossing up between them, she returns the plimsolls to the cupboard. She slips off her own shoes and steps easily into the wellingtons. She puts her own shoes neatly in the cupboard and rummages again. She pulls out a large man’s gardening raincoat. She holds it up, realizes it’s better than nothing and puts it on. She hurries back to the centre of the room buttoning it as she does so] Nineteen-twenty-four. [She returns to the back door, opens it and steps out. It is evidently pelting down. She stands in the doorway holding up the collar of the coat and ineffectually trying to protect her hairdo from the rain with the other hand. Frantically] Oh … [She dives back into the cupboard and re-emerges with an old trilby hat. She looks at it in dismay. After a moment’s struggle she puts it on and hurries back to the centre of the room] Twenty-five.
[JANE returns to the back door, hesitates for a second and then plunges out into the night, leaving the door only very slightly ajar. After a moment, SIDNEY returns still clutching the glass]
SIDNEY: Jane? Jane! [He looks round, puzzled] Good gracious me. [He peers around for her]
[EVA comes in. In her thirties, she makes no concessions in either manner or appearance]
EVA: May I have a grass of water?
SIDNEY: Beg your pardon?
EVA: I have to take these. [She holds out a couple of tablets enclosed in a sheet of tinfoil. She crosses to the back door and stands taking deep breaths of fresh air]
SIDNEY: Oh, yes. There’s a glass here somewhere, I think.
EVA: Thanks.
SIDNEY: [finding a tumbler] Here we are. [He puts it down on the washing machine]
[EVA stands abstractedly staring ahead of her, tearing at the paper round the pills without any effort to open them. A pause. SIDNEY looks at her]
Er …
EVA: What? Oh, thanks. [She closes the back door and picks up the glass]
SIDNEY: Not ill, I hope?
EVA: What?
SIDNEY: The pills. Not ill?
EVA: It depends what you mean by ill, doesn’t it?
SIDNEY: Ah.
EVA: If you mean do they prevent me from turning into a raving lunatic, the answer’s probably yes. [She laughs somewhat bitterly]
SIDNEY: [laughing, too] Raving lunatic, yes–[he is none too certain of this lady]–but then I always say, it helps to be a bit mad, doesn’t it? I mean, we’re all a bit mad. I’m a bit mad. [Pause] Yes. [Pause] It’s a mad world, as they say.
EVA: [surveying the pills in her hand which she has now opened] Extraordinary to think that one’s sanity can depend on these. Frightening, isn’t it? [She puts them both in her mouth and swallows the glass of water in one gulp] Yuck. Alarming. Do you know I’ve been taking pills of one sort or another since I was eight years old. What chance does your body have? My husband tells me that even if I didn’t need them, I’d still have to take them. My whole mentality is geared round swallowing tablets every three hours, twenty-four hours a day. I even have to set the alarm at night. You’re looking at a mess. A wreck. [She still holds the glass and is searching round absently as she speaks, for somewhere to put it] Don’t you sometimes long to be out of your body and free? Free just to float? I know I do. [She opens the pedal bin with her foot and tosses the empty glass into it] Thanks.
[She puts the screwed up tinfoil into SIDNEY’s hand and starts for the door. SIDNEY gawps at her. EVA pauses]
My God, was that our car horn?
SIDNEY: When?
EVA: Just now.
SIDNEY: No, I don’t think so.
EVA: If you do hear it, it’s George.
SIDNEY: George?
EVA: Our dog.
SIDNEY: Oh, yes, of course.
EVA: We left him in the car, you see. We have to leave him in the car these days, he’s just impossible. He’s all right there, usually, but lately he’s been getting bored and he’s learnt to push the horn button with his nose. He just rests his nose on the steering-wheel, you see.
SIDNEY: That’s clever.
EVA: Not all that clever. We’ve had the police out twice.
SIDNEY: A bit like children, dogs.
EVA: What makes you say that?
SIDNEY: Need a bit of a firm hand now and again. Smack if they’re naughty.
EVA: You don’t smack George, you negotiate terms.
SIDNEY: Ah. [He retrieves the glass from the waste-bin]
EVA: He was only this big when we bought him, now he’s grown into a sort of yak. When we took him in, he–my God was that me?
SIDNEY: What?
EVA: Did I put that glass in there?
SIDNEY: Er–yes.
EVA: My God, I knew it, I’m going mad. I am finally going mad.
[She goes to the door and opens it]
[Chatter is heard]
Will you please tell my husband, if he drinks any more, I’m walking home.
SIDNEY: Well, I think that might be better
coming from you as his wife.
EVA: [laughing] You really think he’d listen to me? He doesn’t even know I’m here. As far as he’s concerned, my existence ended the day he married me. I’m just an embarrassing smudge on a marriage licence.
[EVA goes out, closing the door]
SIDNEY: Ah. [He puts the glass on the washing machine and finds JANE’s discarded shoes on the floor. He picks them up, stares at them and places them on the draining-board. Puzzled, he crosses to the back door and calls out into the night] Jane!
[He listens. No reply]
[MARION comes in]
Jane!
MARION: I say …
SIDNEY: Rain … [He holds out his hand by way of demonstration, then closes the back door]
MARION: Oh, yes, dreadful. I say, I think you dashed away with my glass.
SIDNEY: Oh, I’m so sorry. [Handing it to her] Here.
MARION: Thank you. I was getting terribly apprehensive in case it had gone into your washing machine. [She sips the drink] Oh, that’s lovely. Just that teeny bit stronger. You know what I mean. Not too much tonic …
SIDNEY: No, well …
MARION: Perfect.
SIDNEY: Actually, that’s neat gin, that is.
MARION: Oh, good heavens! So it is. What are you trying to do to me? I can see we’re going to have to keep an eye on you, Mr – er …
SIDNEY: No, no. You’re safe enough with me.
MARION: Yes, I’m sure …
SIDNEY: The mistletoe’s in there.
MARION: Well, what are we waiting for? Lead on, Mr–er …
[She ushers him in front of her]
SIDNEY: Follow me.
[SIDNEY goes through the door]
MARION: [as she turns to close it, looking at her watch] My God.
[MARION goes out and closes the door]
[A pause]
[JANE arrives at the back door still in her hat, coat and boots. She is soaking wet. She carries a carton of tonic waters. She rattles the back door knob but she has locked herself out. She knocks gently then louder, but no-one hears her. She rattles the knob again, pressing her face up against the glass. We see her mouth opening and shouting but no sound. Eventually, she gives up and hurries away. After a second, SIDNEY returns. He has the crisp bowl which is again empty. He is about to refill it when he pauses and looks round the kitchen, puzzled and slightly annoyed. He goes to the back door and opens it]
SIDNEY: Jane! Jane!
[SIDNEY turns up his jacket collar and runs out, leaving the door ajar]
[As soon as SIDNEY has gone, the doorbell chimes. There is a pause, then it chimes again, several times]
[RONALD enters from the sitting-room]
RONALD: I say, old boy, I think someone’s at your front–oh.
[He sees the empty room and the open back door]
[RONALD turns and goes back into the room]
No, he seems to have gone out. I suppose we’d better … [His voice cuts off as he closes the door]
[The doorbell chimes once more]
[SIDNEY returns, closing the back door. He finds a towel and dabs his face and hair]
SIDNEY: Dear oh dear. [He shakes his head and returns to his crisps. Suddenly, the living-room door bursts open and JANE enters hurriedly in her strange garb, her boots squelching. She shuts the door behind her and stands against it, shaking and exhausted]
[SIDNEY turns and throws the bag of crisps into the air in his astonishment]
JANE: Oh, my goodness.
SIDNEY: What are you doing?
JANE: Oh.
SIDNEY: [utterly incredulous] What do you think you’re doing?
JANE: [still breathless] I went–I went out–to get the tonic.
[She puts a carton of tonic waters on the table]
SIDNEY: Like that?
JANE: I couldn’t find–I didn’t want …
SIDNEY: You went out–and came in again, like that?
JANE: I thought I’d just slip out the back to the off-licence and slip in again. But I locked myself out. I had to come in the front.
SIDNEY: But who let you in?
JANE: [in a whisper] Mr Brewster-Wright.
SIDNEY: Mr Brewster-Wright? Mr Brewster-Wright let you in like that?
[JANE nods]
What did he say?
JANE: I don’t think he recognized me.
SIDNEY: I’m not surprised.
JANE: I couldn’t look at him. I just ran straight past him and right through all of them and into here.
SIDNEY: Like that?
JANE: Yes.
SIDNEY: But what did they say?
JANE: They didn’t say anything. They just stopped talking and stared and I ran through them. I couldn’t very well …
SIDNEY: You’ll have to go back in there and explain.
JANE: No, I couldn’t.
SIDNEY: Of course you must.
JANE: Sidney, I don’t think I can face them.
SIDNEY: You can’t walk through a respectable cocktail party, the hostess, dressed like that without an apology.
JANE: [on the verge of tears again] I couldn’t.
SIDNEY: [furious] You take off all that–and you go back in there and explain.
JANE: [with a wail] I just want to go to bed.
SIDNEY: Well, you cannot go to bed. Not at nineteen-forty-seven. Now, take off that coat.
[JANE squelches to the cupboard]
[RONALD opens the kitchen door. He is talking over his shoulder as he comes in, carrying a glass of scotch]
RONALD: Well I think I’d better, I mean …
JANE: Oh, no.
[JANE has had no time to unbutton her coat. Rather than face RONALD, she rushes out of the back door hatless, abandoning her headgear in the middle of the kitchen table]
[SIDNEY, trying to stop JANE, lunges after her vainly. The door slams behind her. SIDNEY stands with his back to it]
RONALD: [in the doorway, having caught a glimpse of violent activity, but unsure what] Ah, there you are, old chap.
SIDNEY: Oh, hallo. Hallo.
RONALD: Just popped out, did you?
SIDNEY: Yes, just popped out.
RONALD: Well–something rather odd. Someone at the door just now. Little short chap. Hat, coat, boots and bottles. Just stamped straight through. You catch a glimpse of him?
SIDNEY: Oh, him.
RONALD: Belong here, does he? I mean …
SIDNEY: Oh, yes;
RONALD: Ah. Well, as long as you know about him. Might have been after your silver. I mean, you never know. Not these days.
SIDNEY: No, indeed. No, he – he was from the off-licence. [He shows RONALD the carton]
RONALD: Really?
SIDNEY: Brought round our order of tonic, you see.
[RONALD stares at the hat on the table. SIDNEY notices and picks it up]
Silly fellow. Left his hat. [He picks up the hat, walks to the back door, opens it and throws out the hat. He closes the door]
RONALD: Not the night to forget your hat.
SIDNEY: No, indeed.
RONALD: [Sitting at the table] Mind you, frankly, he didn’t look all there to me. Wild eyed. That’s what made me think …
SIDNEY: Quite right.
RONALD: Ought to get him to come round the back, you know. Take a tip from me. Once you let tradesmen into the habit of using your front door, you might as well move out, there and then.
SIDNEY: Well, quite. In my own particular business, I always insist that my staff …
RONALD: Oh, yes, of course. I was forgetting you’re a–you’re in business yourself, aren’t you?
SIDNEY: Well, in a small way at the moment. My wife and I. I think I explained …
RONALD: Yes, of course. And doing very well.
SIDNEY: Well, for a little general stores, you know. Mustn’t grumble.
RONALD: Good to hear someone’s making the grade.
SIDNEY: These days.
RONALD: Quite. [He picks up the booklet and looks at
it]
[A pause]
SIDNEY: I know this isn’t perhaps the moment, I mean it probably isn’t the right moment, but none the less, I hope you’ve been giving a little bit of thought to our chat. The other day. If you’ve had a moment.
RONALD: Chat? Oh, yes–chat. At the bank? Well, yes, it’s–probably not, as you say, the moment but, as I said then–and this is still off the cuff you understand–I think the bank could probably see their way to helping you out.