The Collected Shorter Plays (10 page)

A
We pack up this evening, right?

B
Without fail. Tomorrow we’re at Bury St. Edmunds.

A
[
sadly
] We’ll leave him none the wiser. We’ll leave him now, never to meet again, having added nothing to what he knew already.

B
All these testimonies were new to him. They will have finished him off.

A
Not necessarily. [
Pause
.] Any light on that? [
Papers
.] This is vital. [
Papers
.] Something . . . I seem to remember . . . something . . . he said himself.

B
[
papers
] Under “Confidences” then. [
Brief laugh
.] Slim file. [
Papers
.]
Confidences . . . confidences . . . ah!

A
[
impatient
] Well?

B
[
reading
] “. . . sick headaches . . . eye trouble . . . irrational fear of vipers . . . ear trouble . . .”—nothing for us there—“. . . fibroid tumours . . . pathological horror of songbirds . . . throat trouble . . . need of affection . . .”—we’re coming to it—“. . . inner void . . . congenital timidity . . . nose trouble . . .”—ah! listen to this!— “ . . . morbidly sensitive to the opinion of others . . .” [
Looks up
.] What did I tell you?

A
[
glum
] Tsstss!

B
I’ll read the whole passage: “. . . morbidly sensitive to the opinion of others—” [
His lamp goes out
.] Well! The bulb has blown! [
The lamp goes on again
.] No, it hasn’t! Must be a faulty connexion. [
Examines lamp, straightens flex
.] The flex was twisted, now all is well. [
Reading
.] “. . . morbidly sensitive—” [
The lamp goes out
.] Bugger and shit!

A
Try giving her a shake. [
B shakes the lamp. It goes on again
.] See! I picked up that wrinkle in the Band of Hope.
[
Pause
.]

B
What?

A
Keep your hands off the table. If it’s a connexion the least jog can do it.

B
[
having pulled back his chair a little way
] “. . . morbidly sensitive—”
[
The lamp goes out. B bangs on the table with his fist. The lamp goes on again. Pause
.]

A
Mysterious affair, electricity.

B
[
hurriedly
] “. . . morbidly sensitive to the opinion of others at the time, I mean as often and for as long as they entered my awareness—” What kind of Chinese is that?

A
[
nervously
] Keep going, keep going!

B
“. . . for as long as they entered my awareness, and that in either case, I mean whether such on the one hand as to give me pleasure or on the contrary on the other to cause me pain, and truth to tell—” Shit! Where’s the verb?

A
What verb?

B
The main!

A
I give up.

B
Hold on till I find the verb and to hell with all this drivel in the middle. [
Reading
.] “. . . were I but . . . could I but . . .” —Jesus!— “. . . though it be . . . be it but . . .”—Christ!—ah! I have it—“. . . I was unfortunately incapable . . .” Done it!

A
How does it run now?

B
[
solemnly
] “. . . morbidly sensitive to the opinion of others at the time . . .”—drivel drivel drivel—“. . . I was unfortunately incapable—”
[
The lamp goes out. Long pause
.]

A
Would you care to change seats? [
Pause
.] You see what I mean? [
Pause
.] That you come over here with your papers and I go over there. [
Pause
.] Don’t whinge, Morvan, that will get us nowhere.

B
It’s my nerves. [
Pause
.] Ah if I were only twenty years younger I’d put an end to my sufferings!

A
Fie! Never say such horrid things! Even to a well-wisher!

B
May I come to you? [
Pause
.] I need animal warmth.
[
Pause
.]

A
[
coldly
] As you like. [
B gets up and goes towards A
.] With your files if you don’t mind. [
B goes back for papers and briefcase, returns towards A, puts them on A’s table, remains standing. Pause
.] Do you want me to take you on my knees?
[
Pause. B goes back for his chair, returns towards A, stops before A’s table with the chair in his arms. Pause
.]

B
[
shyly
] May I sit beside you? [
They look at each other
.] No? [
Pause
.] Then opposite. [
He sits down opposite A, looks at him. Pause
.] Do we continue?

A
[
forcibly
] Let’s get it over and go to bed.
[
B rummages in his papers
.]

B
I’ll take the lamp. [
He draws it towards him
.] Please God it holds out. What would we do in the dark the pair of us? [
Pause
.] Have you matches?

A
Never without. [
Pause
.] What we would do? Go and stand by the window in the starlight. [
B’s lamp goes on again
.] That is to say you would.

B
[
fervently
] Oh no not alone I wouldn’t!

A
Pass me a sheet. [
B passes him a sheet
.] Switch off. [
B switches off
.] Oh lord, yours is on again.

B
This gag has gone on long enough for me.

A
Just so. Go and switch it off.
[
B goes to his table, switches off his lamp. Pause
.]

B
What am I to do now? Switch it on again?

A
Come back.

B
Switch on then till I see where I’m going.
[
A switches on. B goes back and sits down opposite A. A switches off, goes to window with sheet, halts, contemplates the sky
.]

A
And to think all that is nuclear combustion! All that faerie! [
He stoops over sheet and reads haltingly
.] “Aged ten, runs away from home first time, brought back next day, admonished, forgiven.” [
Pause
.] “Aged fifteen, runs away from home second time, dragged back a week later, thrashed, forgiven.” [
Pause
.] “Aged seventeen, runs away from home third time, slinks back six months later with his tail between his legs, locked up, forgiven.” [
Pause
.] “Aged seventeen runs away from home last time, crawls back a year later on his hands and knees, kicked out, forgiven.”
[
Pause. He moves up against window to inspect C’s face, to do which he has to lean out a little way, with his back to the void
.]

B
Careful!
[
Long pause, all three dead still
.]

A
[
sadly
] Tsstss! [
He resumes his equilibrium
.] Switch on. [
B switches on. A goes back to his table, sits, returns the sheet to B
.] It’s heavy going, but we’re nearly home.

B
How does he look?

A
Not at his best.

B
Has he still got that little smile on his face?

A
Probably.

B
What do you mean, probably, haven’t you just been looking at him?

A
He didn’t have it then.

B
[
with satisfaction
] Ah! [
Pause
.] Could never make out what he thought he was doing with that smile on his face. And his eyes? Still goggling?

A
Shut.

B
Shut!

A
Oh it was only so as not to see me. He must have opened them again since. [
Pause. Violently
.] You’d need to stare them in the face day and night! Never take your eyes off them for a week on end! Unbeknownst to them!
[
Pause
.]

B
Looks to me we have him.

A
[
impatiently
] Come on, we’re getting nowhere, get on with it.
[
B rummages in his papers, finds the sheet
.]

B
[
reading at top speed
] “. . . morbidly sensitive to the opinion of others at the time . . .” —drivel drivel drivel— “. . . I was unfortunately incapable of retaining it for more than ten or fifteen minutes at the most, that is to say the time required to take it in. From then on it might as well never have been uttered.” [
Pause
.] Tsstss!

A
[
with satisfaction
] You see. [
Pause
.] Where does that come in?

B
In a letter presumably never posted to an anonymous admiratrix.

A
An admiratrix? He had admiratrixes?

B
It begins: “Dear friend and admiratrix . . .” That’s all we know.

A
Come, Morvan, calm yourself, letters to admiratrixes, we all know what they’re worth. No need to take everything literally.

B
[
violently, slapping down his hand on the pile of papers
] There’s the record, closed and final. That’s what we’re going on. Too late now to start saying that [
slapping to his left
] is right and that [
slapping to his right
] wrong. You’re a pain in the arse.
[
Pause
.]

A
Good. Let us sum up.

B
We do nothing else.

A
A black future, an unpardonable past—so far as he can remember, inducements to linger on all equally preposterous and the best advice dead letter. Agreed?

B
An heirless aunt preposterous?

A
[
warmly
] He’s not the interested type. [
Sternly
.] One has to consider the client’s temperament. To accumulate documents is not enough.

B
[
vexed, slapping on his papers
] Here, as far as I’m concerned the client is here and nowhere else.

A
All right. Is there a single reference there to personal gain? That old aunt, was he ever as much as commonly civil to her? And that dairy-woman, come to that, in all the years he’s been going to her for his bit of cheddar, was he ever once wanting in respect? [
Pause
.] No, Morvan, look you—
[
Feeble miaow. Pause. Second miaow, louder
.]

B
That must be the cat.

A
Sounds like it. [
Long pause
.] So, agreed? Black future, unpardonable—

B
As you wish. [
He starts to tidy back the papers in the brief case. Wearily
.] Let him jump.

A
No further exhibit?

B
Let him jump, let him jump. [
He finishes tidying, gets up with the briefcase in his hand
.] Let’s go.
[
A consults his watch
.]

A
It is now . . . ten . . . twenty-five. We have no train before eleven twenty.
Let us kill the time here, talking of this and that.

B
What do you mean, eleven twenty? Ten fifty.
[
A takes a time-table from his pocket, opens it at relevant page and hands it to B
.]

A
Where it’s marked with a cross. [
B consults the time-table, hands it back to A and sits down again. Long pause. A clears his throat. Pause. Impassionately
.] How many unfortunates would be so still today if they had known in time to what extent they were so? [
Pause
.] Remember Smith?

B
Smith? [
Pause
.] Never knew anyone of that name.

A
Yes you did! A big fat redhair. Always to be seen hanging round World’s End. Hadn’t done a hand’s turn for years. Reputed to have lost his genitals in a shooting accident. His own double-barrel that went off between his legs in a moment of abstraction, just as he was getting set to let fly at a quail.

B
Stranger to me.

A
Well to make a long story short he had his head in the oven when they came to tell him his wife had gone under an ambulance. Hell, says he, I can’t miss that, and now he has a steady job in Marks and Spencer’s. [
Pause
.] How is Mildred?

B
[
disgustedly
] Oh you know— [
Brief burst of birdsong. Pause
.] Good God!

A
Philomel!

B
Oh that put the heart across me!

A
Hsst! [
Low
.] Hark hark! [
Pause. Second brief burst, louder. Pause
.] It’s in the room! [
He gets up, moves away on tip toe
.] Come on, let’s have a look.

B
I’m scared!
[
He gets up none the less and follows cautiously in the wake of A
.
A advances on tiptoe upstage right, B tiptoes after
.]