The Ruling Class (Modern Plays)

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The Ruling Class (Modern Plays) Page 8

by Peter Barnes


  All Christ have mercy upon us.

  Bishop Lampton Lord have mercy upon us!

  Bishop Lampton sinks to the floor exhausted, but Dinsdale and Sir Charles jerk him up as the bells peal and the organ booms.

  Scene Thirteen

  Bells and organ fade down. The screen is taken up to show a small buffet has been laid out – drinks, sandwiches, and a wedding cake. The Earl picks up Grace and carries her laughing into the drawing room.

  Dinsdale Gurney (to Bishop Lampton) Frankly, I thought it was going to be a jolly sight worse.

  Bishop Lampton (being helped out of his vestments by Tucker) Worse? How could it have been worse? When that woman entered in white I knew. (Shudders). An actress, married in white, white.

  Grace Hildegarde! This is a bit tatty. No reception, no guests, a few curled sandwiches and a deformed wedding cake. William Hickey won’t give us a mention.

  Tucker It’s not my fault, Your Ladyship.

  Grace ‘Your Ladyship.’ (Brightening.) That’s better. Now watch ’em creep and crawl at Harrods.

  Bishop Lampton slumps down on a chair while the Earl hands Sir Charles and Dinsdale paper hats and coloured balloons. They put on the hats.

  Sir Charles (to Grace) We thought you’d prefer a quiet affair.

  Grace It’s like a wet Monday in Warrington. What about a toast to the newlyweds or something? Let’s try and keep it a bit trad.

  Sir Charles Oh, very well. Ladies and gentlemen – to the long life, prosperity and happiness of the bride and groom.

  They drink.

  Earl of Gurney (picking up knife) Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, in reply I name this ship ‘Loving Kindness’. May I keep her and all who sail in her. (Cuts wedding cake).

  Tucker Ah, Your Ladyship, you should have seen the late Earl’s wedding. Over five hundred guests. The crème de menthe. Wastrels all! Lords of conspicuous consumption.

  Sir Charles has taken Grace aside.

  Sir Charles (low) Can’t say I fancy the idea of you alone with him.

  Grace (low, angry) Everything’s still yours, even if you’ve given it away.

  Earl of Gurney Good. Let’s have a minute’s silence.

  Claire What for?

  Earl of Gurney For all the dead books of World War One. For Mr Moto, the Cisco Kid and Me. Muffle the drums, beat the retreat. Quiet, shhh, silence . . .

  The sudden silence is physical. Even after only a few seconds the tension grows. The strain is too much. All burst out at once – ‘Why the devil . . . ’ ‘I say . . . ’ ‘Hell . . . !’

  Earl of Gurney (sadly) Terrible, isn’t it? That’s why I have to talk, sing, dance.

  Grace (glancing at Sir Charles) And make love?

  Tucker (singing in hoarse croak) ‘Oh, how we danced on the night we were wed – ’

  While he cavorts around, Grace takes the Earl’s arm and they slip away upstage centre.

  Tucker ‘We pledged our true love and a word wasn’t said.’ My mother loved that song. Mammy! Mammy! You weighed twenty stone but you were my little Mammy.

  Sir Charles Tucker!

  Tucker I’m sorry, sir. I thought you might wish me to liven up this wake.

  Sir Charles (noticing bride and groom are missing) Where have they gone?

  Claire Upstairs.

  Dinsdale Gurney Must say I wouldn’t much like to be in her shoes tonight.

  Tucker Not her shoes he’ll he in, Master Dinsdale, sir.

  Bishop Lampton (shuddering) White . . .

  Sir Charles You never stop talking, Bertie. All of you sneering, sniggering. (Lights dim down.) We’ve got to pull together in this. Families like ours set the tone. Doesn’t help poking and prying into personal lives. The strength of the English people lies in their inhibitions. What are they doing up there?

  He now stands in single spot downstage left, still wearing a paper hat with a tiny bell at the end.

  You go to any foreign country and see the difference. There’s always some scruffy chappie on a street corner who wants to tell you all about his love life, and sell you a strip of dirty postcards. What are they doing up there? Sacrifices must be made. Nothing more to be said. (Looks up.) What . . . are . . . they . . . doing . . . up . . . there?

  Spot out.

  Scene Fourteen

  Spot up immediately on the four-poster bed and a chair. Grace is stripping to music played softly over. Her movements are provocative, but utterly unselfconscious. Stepping out of her wedding dress, Grace bends to pick it up. She drapes it over the chair.

  Grace I always get first-night nerves. Any good performer does. You have to be keyed up to give a good show. I’ve done it all, from Stanislavski to strip. Never think I once worked as a stripper, would you? It’s true, as God is my witness – no, you weren’t there, were you, J.C.? Greasy make-up towels, cracked mirrors, rhinestones and beads. What a world. (Takes off stocking and throws it absently into audience.) I sang ‘This Can’t Be Love’. Funny, I did the same act later at the Pigalle for twice the money without removing a stitch. (Proudly.) Of course, some women can strip without taking their clothes off. (She sits on a chair and takes off other stocking.) Nobody could call me undersexed, but I could never get worked up watching some man strip down to his suspenders and jockstrap. Where’s the fun? I suppose some people just enjoy the smell of a steak better than the steak itself. (Throws stocking into audience.) If my mother could see me now – it’s what she always wanted for me – the Big Time. She never forgave Dad for being born in Clapham. Guess she found it hard to settle down to civilian life after being in a touring company of Chu Chin Chow. Nobody need worry about me fitting in. (Walks momentarily into darkness, left.) All I have to do is play it cool. (Reappears into spot, in black nightdress, miming drinking tea with fnger cocked up.) I can cock my little finger with the best. (Calls wings right.) What you doing in there, honey?

  She stares as the Earl enters unsteadily from wings right, in white pyjamas and riding a one-wheel bicycle.

  Grace It’s ridiculous! It’s not dignified!

  Earl of Gurney (wobbling) Dignity has nothing to do with divinity.

  Grace (sudden panic) Not here! Not now! A bike? You’re mad.

  Earl of Gurney Don’t be frightened.

  Grace (recovering) I’m not frightened. But I didn’t expect to see my husband riding a one-wheel bike on his wedding night.

  Earl of Gurney It’s the only way to travel. (Jumps off bike.) Remember, God loves you, God wants you, God needs you. Let’s to bed.

  Spot fades out. Music swells up. From out of the darkness the beating of giant wings as a great bird hovers overhead, followed by the sound of rain falling heavily.

  Scene Fifteen

  Lights up on drawing room to show Sir Charles standing by the French windows staring out moodily at the rain. Grace enters.

  Grace It was a damn long night. I’m starving.

  Sir Charles What happened?

  Grace Happened?

  Sir Charles (impatiently) Last night. What did he do?

  Grace Rode around on a one-wheel bicycle.

  Sir Charles Filthy beast! . . . That must be the Guv’nor’s old bike. The attic’s full of his junk. So he just rode around all night, then?

  Grace First the bike, then me.

  Sir Charles Oh.

  Grace His mind may be wonky but there’s nothing wrong with the rest of his anatomy.

  Sir Charles (gloomily) We Gurneys have always been damnably virile.

  Grace I thought you’d be delighted to find he’s not impotent.

  Sir Charles (frowning) I am. I am. Delighted.

  Claire enters briskly. Sir Charles quickly lets go of Grace’s hand.

  Claire Morning. Well, what happened last night? Was it successful?

  Grace I should have sold tickets.

  Sir Charles Really, Claire, how can you ask a question like that?

  Claire Why not? This is your idea, remember? If your nephew’s incapable, then somebody else may have to step
into the breach for him.

  Grace Charles, tell her to keep her sharp tongue and low mind to herself.

  Claire She has claws.

  Grace This is my pad now. If you want to keep kibbitzing here, belt up on the snide remarks or you’ll find yourself horizontal.

  Claire Horizontal’s more your position than mine, dear.

  Grace Listen, you Black Witch of the North . . .

  There is the sound of a commotion from the corridor. Tucker comes in arguing with Dr Herder.

  Tucker Why can’t you look at my back? It’s ’cause I’m on the National Health, isn’t it? Damn money-grubbers, you and your Hypocrite’s Oath . . . Your Ladyship, Dr Paul Herder. Lunch is ready, madam.

  He shuffles out. Dr Herder faces Claire, Grace and Sir Charles, who instinctively unite against him, their internal quarrel forgotten.

  Dr Herder I’ve come to offer my congratulations, if that’s the right word.

  Sir Charles This is Dr Herder, Lady Gurney.

  Grace How do you do, Doctor. So nice to meet you at last. You’ll stay for lunch. I want to talk to you about my husband. I’m sorry you weren’t told about the wedding, but it was done in such a rush we didn’t have time to invite anybody except the close family. Besides, you would have tried to talk me out of it. It wouldn’t have done any good . . . You see. I love him!

  She exits.

  Dr Herder You should have consulted me before you went ahead. It’s madness.

  Sir Charles Come, come, Doctor. You said he needed a harsh dose of reality. You can’t have a harsher dose of the stuff than marriage.

  Dr Herder It can’t even be legal.

  Sir Charles It’s legal. My brother-in-law conducted the service. He’s a bishop, and a bishop would never do anything that wasn’t legal.

  He exits.

  Dr Herder And what do you say, Lady Claire?

  Claire Congratulations.

  Dr Herder Congratulations?

  Claire On getting your Guggenheim Grant.

  Dr Herder You made love to me to make sure I didn’t cause any trouble.

  Claire You seduced me to make sure of that 130,000 for your schizophrenic rats. Don’t be tiresome.

  Dr Herder I don’t like being made a fool of, Claire.

  Claire You haven’t been. Charles would have gone ahead with the marriage anyway. The Gurneys must have an heir. As soon as there is one Charles will have J.C. committed. The only way you would change the plot is by making the 14th Earl of Gurney sane like the rest of us. And you haven’t got much time. Lady Grace Shelley isn’t the type to survive the rabbit test for long.

  Dr Herder Verdammt. Verdammt. Verdammt.

  Blackout.

  Scene Sixteen

  A roll of thunder. Spot up on Grace framed in the doorway upstage centre. She is nine months pregnant. Lights full up to show Dr Herder, Claire and Sir Charles watching her waddle in. The Earl comes in behind her, with the same heavy tread, leaning on a shepherd’s crook, as if he, too, is carrying.

  Grace Can you beat it, J.C.’s got labour pains too.

  Dr Herder It’s called ‘couvade’. Sympathetic illness. Psychosomatic. Not at all unusual.

  Sir Charles Hmm. I never felt a thing when Lady Claire here was pregnant.

  Claire I’m sure you didn’t.

  The Earl helps Grace into chair. She winces and the Earl clutches his stomach.

  Earl of Gurney Ooo-ah, Mighty Mouse is roaring.

  Dr Herder What are you going to call the child?

  Sir Charles Vincent, after the Guv’nor.

  Earl of Gurney (firmly) No shell name. We’ll call the little beggar Bussy d’Ambois, the UNO Boy-Wonder. And if it’s a girl, Capucine.

  Sir Charles Capucine? You can’t call anyone Capucine?

  Tucker enters.

  Tucker Dr Herder. Mr McKyle is here.

  Dr Herder Show them straight in.

  Tucker Certainly, sir, I’ll lay down on the doorstep and let ’em walk over me.

  He exits.

  Claire Do you need us?

  Dr Herder Yes. But whatever happens, please don’t interfere or interrupt, unless I ask.

  Claire What are you going to do?

  Dr Herder (picking up tape-recorder) Prove it’s impossible for two objects to occupy the same space at the same time. A colleague of mine, Dr Sackstead, has agreed to send me some help as a personal favour.

  Sir Charles All these damned experiments. Look at the last one with the lie-detector. You asked him if he was God, he grinned, said ‘No’ and the damn fool machine said he was lying.

  Dr Herder You’ve forced me to risk the unorthodox.

  He takes the Earl’s arm.

  Dr Herder I’m going to show you the world in the hard light of Truth.

  Earl of Gurney I am the Light of Truth, the Light of the World.

  Dr Herder (into tape-recorder) This is experiment fifteen.

  Sir Charles All these damned experiments.

  Tucker enters.

  Tucker Dr Herder. Mr McKyle . . .

  McKyle enters, brushing past him impatiently, followed by a burly Assistant.

  Tucker Oh, charming.

  He exits.

  McKyle (gesturing) Mae assistant, Mr Shape.

  McKyle is a powerful gaunt man, with an iron-grey beard and brusque manner. He is still wearing gloves.

  Assistant Dr Sackstead was held up. He hopes to be along later.

  McKyle Shall we gie on wi’ it?

  Dr Herder Let me introduce you.

  McKyle No need. I’m sure they a’ ken me here.

  The others look puzzled; he takes off right-hand glove, extends fingers.

  Ach, who else has electricity streaming fraw his fingers and eyeballs? I’m the High Voltage Messiah.

  Claire The who?

  McKyle The Electric Christ, the AC/DC God. You look fused. Cannae y’see the wall plug in mae forehead? Here, here. The booster converter. Takes everything I eats and drinks and converts it into watts and kilowatts.

  All stare except Assistant and Dr Herder. Sir Charles and Claire are about to protest. Dr Herder gestures to them to keep quiet and flicks on the tape-recorder.

  Dr Herder Are you saying you’re God too?

  McKyle God 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. AC/DC. Havenae’ y’ seen God afore?

  Earl of Gurney (quietly) They have, sir. Your remarks are in extreme bad taste. I’m God.

  McKyle (focussing on him for the first time) Yer nae God. Yer what mae snot-rag’s made of. (Plugs deaf-aid in ear.) I’ve obliterated hundreds o’ dupe-Messiahs in mae time.

  Earl of Gurney (begins to circle slowly clockwise) You think I’d go around saying I was God if I could help it? Mental hospitals are full of chaps saying they’re God.

  McKyle (moving slowly around in opposite direction) It’s a bit much o’ Sackstead sending me twenty million miles through galactic space and the interplanetary dust piled two feet thick outside the windows, to bandy words wi’ a poxy moonlooney who thinks he’s me.

  Earl of Gurney I’m here. You’re there.

  McKyle Ach, I’m here and I’m there too.

  Opposite each other again.

  Dinnae trifle wi’ me. I’m Jehovah o’ the Old Testament; the Vengeful God. Awae or you’ll be dropped.

  Dr Herder You can’t both be God.

  McKyle He’s only a bleery-eyed blooster, an English pinhead, the hollowed-out son o’ a Cameronian brothel-keeper.

  Earl of Gurney That’s because I’m not myself today. (To Dr Herder.) You’re trying to split my mind with his tongue.

  McKyle Awae home, laddie, afore I burn you to a crispy noodle.

  Earl of Gurney You can’t touch me. I’m the Rock. (Becomes square, massive.) And the Vine. (Stretching arms up.) The goat. (Springs into chair, fingers as horns.) The East Wind. (Blows.) The Sacred Bug. (Jumps down, scuttles along.) The Upright Testicle. (Jerks upright.) The Bull.

  As they watch him paw and bellow, fascinated, McKyle picks up the empty brandy glas
s from table and before the Assistant can stop him takes a bite out of it. Having recaptured their horrified attention, he continues talking with his mouth full of blood.

  McKyle I saw mae son Jamie dei. He had cancer at the base of his spine and one in his head. They used the black spider treatment on him. It crawled all over, using its feelers, cracking the body vermin and germs wi’ its nippers. (Suddenly to Grace.) I can cure yer bursting. Fire a laser beam doon into yer eye, let a black spider crawl down to clear away the sick puss the sack o’ pus, the white puss, the deid . . .

  Grace rises, shaken.

  McKyle But first I’ll deal wi’ yon Irishman. (Stands on one leg.) I’m earthed.

  Whipping off glove he suddenly whirls round and stabs forefinger at the Earl’s stomach.

  McKyle Zzzzzzzzz . . .

  The Earl tries to protect himself with his hands but slowly doubles up, letting out a long groan which turns into a cry of pain as Grace, who has staggered to her feet, collapses on the floor clutching her stomach.

  Dr Herder Damn!

  Sir Charles Grace. Grace.

  Claire (hurrying to the door) Tucker!

  Sir Charles (to Dr Herder, bending down to Grace) Your responsibility, sir. Damn you.

  Tucker appears in doorway.

  Dr Herder Tucker – Nurse Brice. And tell the midwife to be ready!

  McKyle (taking bulb out of standard lamp) I’m dead! (Sticks finger into the socket, shakes violently.) Re-ch-a-r-ge!

  Dr Herder Get her upstairs.

  Sir Charles (picking Grace up) If we lose this child . . .

  They move upstage to the door.

  McKyle (shaking) B-B-Burn-n-n-n a f-f-f-eath-e-e-e-e-er o-o-o-n-d-d-er her n-n-nose!

  Dinsdale rushes in excitedly.

  Dinsdale Gurney Super news! Old Barrington-Cochrain’s dying. It’ll mean a by-election.

  Claire Not now, Dinsdale!

  Earl of Gurney Paul, Paul, why persecutest thou me?

  All look round and up to the Earl who has, in the confusion, climbed up to the gallery and is now spread out on the cross. Sir Charles hurries out with Grace in his arms. Claire quickly follows as Tucker reappears in doorway.

  Dr Herder (to Assistant) Don’t let ’em leave!

  He exits.

  Tucker Don’t worry, Doctor. I’m a Brown Belt. Fifth Dan. (Assumes Judo stance, with loud grunts.) Ho – Ha!

 

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