Mr Wagstaff, what would happen if Eisha were unable to play Ophelia?
Willy: Are we all in such a hurry to get rid of her? I’ve noticed antagonism towards her from the cast these past few days.
Delia: I know. That’s why I need to talk to you.
Willy: Okay, after the rehearsal. I promise. Right, everyone. Places. We’re doing the preamble to the Mime Scene.
Dennis: Is this where that weird guy stormed out last week?
Willy: Yes, Dennis. Act 3 Sc 2. Hamlet and Ophelia are getting at each other. Difficult language.
Dennis: You can say that again, Mr Wagstaff.
Willy: Difficult language. Okay, that’s you. Eisha.
Eisha: What’s me, Mr Wagstaff? What’ve I done wrong now?
Willy: Nothing. Page 102 everyone. And listen; I want you to react. Hamlet’s teasing his ‘ex’ for not laughing at his dirty jokes. Right, Gemma, Line 111 please.
Gemma: (as ‘Gertrude’) ‘Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.’
Al: (as ‘Hamlet’) ’No, good mother. Here’s metal more attractive. (to Ophelia) Lady, shall I lie in your lap?’
Eisha: (as ‘Ophelia’) ‘No, my lord.’
Hamlet: ‘I mean, my head upon your lap?’
Ophelia: ‘Ay, my lord.’
Hamlet: ‘Do you think I meant country matters?’
Ophelia: ‘I think nothing, my lord.’
Hamlet: ‘That’s a fair thought to lie between maids’ legs.’
Ophelia: ‘What is, my lord?’
Hamlet: ‘Nothing.’
Eisha: Mr Wagstaff, it’s stupid this, what does he mean by ‘nothing’?
Willy: It’s a play on words, Eisha. There are puns in this speech.
Eisha: I don’t know what that means. None of this scene makes sense. It’s just stupid. Can’t we just cut it?
Sally: It makes sense to everyone else. Just say your lines, Eisha, so we can get on.
Willy: Okay. We cut the next speech. Let’s cut to: ’What means this –’…Line 141. Eisha, please.
Ophelia: ’What means this, my lord?’
Hamlet: ‘We shall know by this fellow.’
Ophelia: ‘Will he tell us what this show meant?’
Hamlet: ‘Ay, be not you ashamed to show, he’ll not shame to tell you what it means.’
Ophelia: ‘You are naught, you are naught.’ –
EISHA gets up.
What does this stupid bit here mean, Mr Wagstaff: ‘You are naught?’
Willy: Naught means ‘naughty’.
Eisha: Then how am I meant to say it? You’re the director, aren’t you?
Laura: ‘Naught’ means ‘cheeky’, Eisha. Sexually provocative. Hamlet’s coming on strong to you. He fancies you – you should know enough about that.
Wild, mocking laughter from entire cast. EISHA hurls the play copy across the Hall.
Eisha: I hate this play and I hate all of you. I quit!
She exits. Long pause.
Dennis: Good riddance.
Willy: Whatever you may think, Dennis, if Eisha really intends to quit, we haven’t got a play.
Laura: Mr Wagstaff, don’t ditch the play. Why not give Delia the role? She’d be far better anyway.
Willy: Delia could never learn the lines in the time we’ve got left.
Laura: Better to let her ‘walk’ the part than have Eisha act it badly.
Willy: You could be right. Take a general break. 30 minutes –
Cast exits, except JOURNALIST.
Well Delia, congratulations, looks like you’ve finally got the part.
Delia: Mr Wagstaff, you know there’s no way I could learn the lines. But I could do a walk-on with the book.
Willy: Then the part’s yours if you want it –
Delia: Mr Wagstaff, you know that thing I wanted to talk to you about. Can I tell you now?
Willy: Sure, go ahead.
Delia: There was a party at Mr Jonson’s last Sunday. You couldn’t go, remember?
Willy: Yes, what about it?
Delia: Eisha was coming on strong to Mr Jonson all evening, sir. There were lots of photographs too. That weird journalist bloke, Mr Hacker. I think it might be dangerous for Mr Jonson. He was acting really strangely anyway. In tears at one point. Kept talking about his father. And Eisha wouldn’t keep her hands off him. That’s why everyone’s ganged up on her.
Willy: Then you’ve explained the inexplicable. Thanks Delia. You were right to tell me.
DELIA walks towards the door, and stops.
Delia: Sir, what would happen if Eisha really quits?
Willy: We’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it – But Deels, did you mean quits the play or quits the school?
Delia: Either. Or both. It’s just that I can’t bear to watch her teased in this way. She’s mixed up, that’s all, Mr Wagstaff. She doesn’t understand Shakespeare; it’s not really her fault.
Willy: Then don’t worry; it’ll end all right.
Delia: I can’t help worrying. I’m afraid she might do something desperate –
DELIA exits.
Willy: Delia’s the only one out of all of them who shows any genuine kindness. I should’ve given her the part in the first place. Now I watch this production spiralling out of my control. And, if that weren’t enough, there’s news Al Hammit, our Hamlet, is to be dismissed, "no thriving time allowed". We’ve not even been offered the courtesy of an explanation. Wildmoor’s indeed starting to resemble the murky court of Elsinore itself.
WILLY exits. JOURNALIST wanders down C.
Journalist: What wonders have I seen? Wildmoor, the ‘murky court of Elsinore’. And me, a witness to this ultimate convergence of fiction and reality. Worthy audience, you who daily strive to settle the world in accordance with your perceptions, take note that what here seems fiction may in truth be real, and what real be little more than fantasy. I’m even confused myself. But I wouldn’t miss the ending for the world.
JOURNALIST bows and exits. The CURTAIN falls.
Scene 2
The school library.
Major PARKER enters on apron down L, carrying papers, closely followed by WILLY.
Willy: I’m coming to this meeting, Major. In support of Ben. As his friend.
Parker: Nobody has the right to attend a Governors’ meeting without being a member of the Governors.
Willy: Nobody has the right to deny a notorious criminal an advocate, Major.
They hurry across apron and exit R. Curtain opens. Board members, consisting of KILMAN, MINOR, JOURNALIST (as guest) and cardboard cut-outs, await the arrival of PARKER. BEN sits facing the board members. Enter PARKER and WILLY, who takes a seat beside BEN.
Minor: I’m glad all of you could make it at such short notice. The session should not take long –
Ben: (aside) As is the way with kangaroo courts.
Minor: Major, will your wife be present?
Parker: She prefers to be absent in matters directly pertaining to her son.
Minor: We quite understand her reluctance. But perhaps you’d kick off by informing the court martial about this Al Hammit business.
Kilman: Hardly a court martial, Colonel. I think ‘meeting’ will be good enough.
Minor: Precisely. ‘Meeting’. Now, Major?
Parker: Little to discuss. The confounded boy’s got one of the sixth form girls pregnant.
Minor: A matter, I presume, that needs hushing up.
Ben: You’ve come to the right place then.
Minor: Be advised, Jonson, minutes are being taken. So, what’s the unfortunate girl’s status, Major?
Ben: Fat, no doubt.
Minor: Your second warning, Jonson. Major?
Parker: She’s been dismissed.
Minor: Then is that a problem?
Parker: No, the prospective father’s the problem.
Kilman: Who is the prospective father, Ray?
Parker: Al Hammit. The lead in the play.
Kilman: Then he must leave
too.
Parker: It will mean no play.
Kilman: No great loss, I’d say. Colonel?
Minor: I call for a vote. Any dissenters? – Zero. Then carried unanimously. Now, to more serious matters. Jonson, you’re here to answer charges of child abuse. How do you plead?
Ben: Astonished. Dismayed. Who is the unfortunate victim? Also pregnant perhaps? And by me?
Kilman: One jest too far, I suspect, Jonson. The student in question is the daughter of Colonel Minor, here. I’m sure he doesn’t find it amusing.
Ben: This is a charade. Eisha Minor? I’m innocent on all counts. You haven’t a shred of evidence.
Kilman: But we do, Jonson, we do. Mr Hacker, be so kind as to hand Mr Jonson the photograph.
Journalist: I will. How many photographs would you like?
Kilman: Just one will do – Now, Mr Jonson, this photo suggests your behaviour is not exactly in accordance with the guidelines laid down regarding teacher/pupil relationships. For the information of the meeting: Mr Jonson is seated beside Eisha Minor, arm round her shoulder, and no one else in close proximity. The mind shudders to envisage Mr Jonson’s pursuant behaviour.
Ben: I’m sure your sensitive mind doesn’t shy too far away from the exciting possibilities. When was this travesty of evidence taken?
Kilman: Apparently at a recent party you held at your house. Mr Hacker took it.
Ben: Did he now? My arm round Eisha because she needed cheering up. No more sinister explanation than that. There were also many people present at the time. Where are they? It’s clear the photo’s been touched up.
Kilman: Do you think a court of law would accept this rather naïve interpretation?
Ben: I trust it won’t come to that. You were there, Hacker; were others present when you took the photo? A simple yes or no will do.
Journalist: I desire whole-heartedly to give an affirmative, but I cannot. My silence is guarded by the same shroud that cloaks the huddled form of the Oracle on Mt Olympus.
Willy: Mike, this is not a game, you fool. This is not fiction. A man’s reputation is at stake.
Journalist: If this remarkable scene be not fiction, what other, in this wicked world, can ever be counted fiction? Reality could never be as strange as this. Do I dream perhaps? Let’s see – ouch! Nay, real enough. Then this is indeed most excellent fiction and I, the consummate actor, have learned my lines well.
Willy: You see, this man raves like a lunatic. A court of law would never listen to a madman like this.
Kilman: I think it would. However, it need not come to that. This Board finds you unanimously guilty of inappropriate conduct towards a minor. You are required to relinquish your duties forthwith and leave this community. You are clearly a menace.
Ben: I’ve no intention of leaving anywhere or anything. This evidence would be laughed out of court. It’s purely circumstantial.
Kilman: Then you leave us no choice. Major, bring her in.
PARKER exits and, after a few seconds, leads Eisha into the room.
Ben: My God!
Kilman: Eisha, come on over and sit by your Daddy.
Minor: Now Eisha, everything’ll be all right; all you need do is tell the truth.
Ben: This is unacceptable. Look at the poor girl.
Kilman: Eisha, we know how distressing this must be, but we need you to tell us the meaning of this photo here – Now, take your time, and tell us if the man in this photo is here in this room.
EISHA reluctantly indicates BEN.
Did this man ever make improper advances towards you?
EISHA nods slowly.
Willy: Eisha, this is not a play you’re in; it’s for real!
Kilman: Now, think hard. Did Mr Jonson abuse you on the night these pictures were taken?
Eisha: Must I, Daddy?
Minor: Yes, Eisha, you must. You know what we discussed.
Eisha: I always liked Mr Jonson’s classes; they were such fun. You see, Mr Jonson’s a wonderful teacher – I don’t know why he had to do that horrible thing.
Kilman: Which thing?
Ben: Eisha!
Eisha: I hate Wildmoor. You never get a fair hearing –
Kilman: Answer the question, girl. Did Jonson violate you?
Eisha: It’s so sad – so sad, but if the truth must come out, yes, Mr Jonson did act with improp – what was the word, Daddy? –
Minor: Impropriety.
Eisha: Yes, impropriety towards me.
EISHA bursts into tears and rushes out of the room, followed hurriedly by BEN and WILLY.
Kilman: Jonson, don’t do anything you’ll regret!
The Governors begin to leave while the lights slowly fade. The CURTAIN falls.
Scene 3
An open space in the school.
Pupils run across apron from either side, in alarm.
Pupil 1: Mr Jonson’s been fired.
More pupils enter.
Pupil 2: Have you heard about Jonson? –
Pupil 3: Hey, Mr Jonson’s left –
Pupil 4: Have you heard? Al Hammit’s been expelled.
Pupil 1: What for?
Pupil 4: He knocked Eisha up.
Pupil 1: Can’t have done.
Pupil 4: Why not?
Pupil 1: I heard she’s dead.
Pupil 5: Have you heard the news about Eisha?
Pupil 3: No, what?
Pupil 5: She’s dead. She killed herself.
Pupil 2: Where, for heaven’s sakes?
Pupil 5: Up at the Lake; where we go camping.
Pupil 1: Who told you this?
Pupil 5: Some of the others were there.
Pupil 2: When?
Pupil 4: I’m off, you blokes. There won’t be a play. There’s a meeting. Mr Wagstaff’s called a general meeting of the whole cast. All exit. The CURTAIN falls.
Scene 4
The school Hall.
The entire cast of the play, except EISHA and DELIA, grouped around WILLY.
Dennis: Is it true, Mr Wagstaff? Has Mr Jonson really got the shove for meddling with Eisha at the party?
Willy: The first half is true, Dennis, the second part almost certainly not. Anyway, listen everyone; forget Mr Jonson for a moment; I’ve got some very sad news. I’ve called this meeting to let you all know Eisha’s had an accident at the Lake.
Laura: We sort of know, sir.
General silence.
Henry: Was it suicide, Mr Wagstaff?
Willy: No one knows at this stage. I realise some of you didn’t treat Eisha too kindly, but I suggest you don’t start blaming yourselves. It’s what happened after she quit the play that probably led to this.
Dennis: Nobody’s blaming themselves, Mr Wagstaff. Eisha brought it on herself. Just a shame she couldn’t have waited till after the production to perform the suicide scene.
Laura: What suicide scene, Dennis?
Dennis: Doesn’t Ophelia top herself in the play? I’ve read the script.
Willy: Yes, and the play never makes clear whether it’s suicide. Anyway, you’re out of line, Dennis; just keep your mouth shut.
Dennis: But, sir –
Laura: Shut up, Dennis; you heard Mr Wagstaff.
Willy: Okay, listen everyone. I’ve got some other news to report. Al Hammit’s been dismissed. Details to follow no doubt from the Head – However, I’m going ahead with the production. It’ll be in a way a memorial to Eisha.
Laura: Who’ll play Hamlet, sir?
Willy: I will.
Dennis: Great! Okay, chaps, Mr Wagstaff’s right; we need to stick together; we’ve got to go on with the play. In a huddle everyone. Team effort.
Everyone: Yeah!
They start to form a circle but WILLY intervenes.
Willy: No. Keep a lid on it, okay? In case you’ve forgotten, someone’s died. Someone we know. There’s no cause for jubilation.
Dennis: But sir –
Willy: Keep a lid on it, Dennis. Didn’t you hear?
The pupils stand around unce
rtainly before Laura silently starts to dismantle the ESP banners. She’s joined by the others.
Willy: Thanks, Laura, a nice gesture. Appropriate.
They all come together again.
Sally: Sir, now Eisha’s – well, who’s going to play Ophelia?
Willy: Delia, of course. She’s already agreed – By the way, where is Delia? It’s not like her to miss a meeting. Anyone seen her?
JOURNALIST enters.
Hello Mike, we’re not actually doing a rehearsal right now, we –
Journalist: No, I know that. I thought I should let you know, before the media get on to it – well, I suppose I am the media – anyway, there’s been an accident up the Lake. Really sad. One of your pupils –
Willy: Before you go on, Mike, we already know –
Journalist: – yeah, Ophelia, that real nice, hard-working, sensible kid; I’ll miss her black curly hair and cheerful smile – seems her friend got into trouble in the water and –
EISHA appears, down L, unnoticed by WILLY, and stands looking at the group. Gasps from members of the cast.
Willy: Black, curly hair? She didn’t have curly hair. Not Eisha – Delia maybe – Who’re you talking about, Mike? – Will somebody please –
EISHA has sunk down on her knees sobbing quietly.
Laura: – Mr Wagstaff, behind you.
WILLY turns and sees EISHA
Willy: Eisha! – Eisha, you’re alive!
WILLY exits hurriedly, followed by cast, except EISHA, who exits alone on the opposite side.
Journalist: As I said, Ophelia, the one with the curly hair. You can read it in the Chronicle tomorrow. I’ll go break the news to the King and Queen. This line of work sure has its rewards, mixing with the great and famous.
Exit. The CURTAIN falls.
Scene 5
Parker’s Study.
PARKER sits reading a newspaper, while SHEILA sews costumes. Around the room some of Kilman’s BODYGUARDS. JOURNALIST enters up L.
Parker: Hello, Mike. Sitting in on a rehearsal? I’m told the kids are working very hard at the moment.
Journalist: I have just been at the rehearsal, your highness, but in the role of messenger. One could only be glad the tidings I brought were merely fiction. Humans are frail creatures and find it hard to bear the enormity of certain –
Sheila: So, Mike, what is it exactly you wanted to tell us?
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