The Complete Dramatic Works (40 page)

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 connection. [
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 connection 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,
contem
plates
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
]

B:
[
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?

B:
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.

B:
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?

A:
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.