by Simon Gray
Bourke That’s all right, George. Call out when you want to go – I can help you to it.
Blake All evening I’ve needed – and now when I can – I can’t.
Bourke But when you can I’m here. So don’t worry about it, George. We’re going to be living together closer than – closer than a husband and wife almost, almost, I mean less privacy than in the Scrubs even, so embarrassment doesn’t come into it –
Blake The Scrubs! Wormwood Scrubs! I’ve finally left it, then, have I, Sean, thanks to you?
Bourke You have, George. And for ever. I’ll see to it. Now you lie down –
He gets Blake between the sheets.
And close your eyes – close your eyes now. Try some of this – (Begins to hum ‘Danny Boy’.) Always works with the English – the nice ones – Nigel and Annie and Dick and Philip – and even Miranda – I’ve seen their eyes fill with tears, even hers, so relax, George, relax – (Hums more ‘Danny Boy’, croons it.) There you go, George. You’re off, aren’t you, eh?
Blake murmurs from bed. Bourke goes on crooning ‘Danny Boy’. Bourke gets up from beside Blake, wanders around room, humming. Sees tape recorder on table. Glances towards Blake in bed, then seizes tape recorder, presses ‘Play’ button.
Bourke (voice on recorder) – so allow as much as ten minutes at Halcyon Road lights to be certain – that you’re not going to hit any major problems.
Bourke presses ‘Stop’ button, winds back, presses ‘Record’ button.
Bourke (into recorder) ‘The Springing of George Blake. Chapter One. A Genius and a Gentleman.’ That’s what he called me. Well, I don’t know about the gentleman – I hope I’m always a gentleman – of a sort – even as a thief. But a genius. Sheer genius, didn’t he say? Begorrah! (Laughs.) But what matters is this. I’ve got George his freedom. And this. I’ve got myself a story to tell at last. A story to tell and a story to sell. They’ll love me for it in Dublin – there I’ll be …
Blake (rears up in bed) Sean, Sean –
Bourke (turning off recorder) What is it, George? You want the toilet? (Going to bed.)
Blake Promise me something.
Bourke (sitting on bed’s edge) Anything, George. You know that.
Blake Get me to safety, Sean. Complete safety, please.
Bourke I’ve already arranged that. As soon as the time’s right, I’m taking you home. To Dublin.
Blake No, no. My home. Get me to my home.
Bourke But – where is your home, George?
Blake Moscow. Moscow, please, Sean. (There is a pause.) Sean – you promised me anything.
Bourke But I don’t know how to do it, George. I’ve got a plan worked out to get us to Dublin.
Blake What is it? What is your plan?
Bourke Well, you’ll be under the kiddies’ bunk in Nigel’s and Annie’s Dormobile, with Dick going along as extra camouflage, a little group of tourists, see, George, and I’ll go separately, so there’s no connection between us. Then we join up in Dublin –
Blake Moscow. Join up in Moscow. You and I.
Bourke But you can’t keep yourself squeezed under a little bunk all across Europe to Moscow –
Blake Yes, I can. I can if I have to. Then you join me separately. Just as you said.
Bourke George, I’ve told you. I’m going to Dublin. I need to be there. Need to!
Blake Yes, yes, yes, you go home to Dublin – but come to me in Moscow first, Sean. For a short visit. A holiday. A week or two.
Bourke Oh, George, look at you, you should be lying down, you’re trembling and shaking –
Blake You promised me anything! I want to go to Moscow. I want you to come separately, just as you said. Be with me a week. The thought of that, that’ll help me survive under the bunk. Having you to look forward to, that’s all I ask. Sean – my Sean.
Bourke All right, George. If that’s what you want. I’ll get you to Moscow. And come for a week myself. Just for a week I’ll come. All right?
There are three short rings, one long one, on the bell. Bourke looks towards door.
Blake (screams out) I’m falling, I’m falling!
He grabs at Bourke.
Bourke (holds him) I’ve caught you, this time I’ve caught you, George!
Blake Gone, gone, gone, gone –
Bourke Hush now, George, hush, it’s the signal, it’s only Nigel and Annie, and Dick too probably, come to see you safe and sound! Let go of me, George, let go of me.
As again three short, one long ring on the bell. Lights.
SCENE THREE
Three weeks later. Moscow. Lunchtime. Dining room of Blake’s flat. Table, chairs. Hatch to kitchen, off.
Stage left, Blake’s room. Desk on which stands a typewriter, a pile of typescripts, and a very large and sturdy recording machine of the period.
Stage right, another room, similar layout to Blake’s, a pile of typescripts on desk.
Blake is in his room, roaming about as he talks into the recording machine.
Blake (his speech is slightly stilted) And so at the age of seventeen, on the run from the Nazis because of my work in the Dutch underground, I managed to escape to England. Although I was born and bred in Holland, my father, being Egyptian, was entitled to British citizenship. As indeed was I. I therefore had no trouble in joining the British navy and was selected to be a member of the submarine service. (He looks at his watch, sighs.) Unfortunately, I soon discovered that the sensation of being under water filled me with the utmost terror. I applied, instead, for a post in the Foreign Office, and was immediately accepted. After the war I was sent to Korea. I will give an account of my experiences there in a separate chapter. But ideologically the most significant event of my life was when, back in London again, I was transferred to Intelligence and then to the Russian desk. I was put on a special course at Cambridge University – where all the top British traitors have always been educated (stifles a slight laugh) to study the Russian language, Russian culture, and the philosophical principles that lie behind the Soviet Revolution. One of my teachers was Tom Wingard, a senior civil servant. It was he who introduced me to the works of Karl Marx. ‘Know Thine Enemy’, his series of lectures was called. (Looks at his watch again.) An exceptionally objective, fair-minded man, he succeeded, without of course intending to, in converting me completely to Marxism. English teaching at its very best.
Zinaida enters carrying medals.
(In Russian.) Come in. News of Comrade Robert at last?
Zinaida (in Russian) Comrade Robert? No. Nothing.
Blake (in Russian) You’ve done a wonderful job, thank you, Zinaida.
Zinaida pulls him up to put the medals on.
(In Russian.) Not now, Zinaida. For the next official dinner.
Zinaida (in Russian) I want to see what they look like. (She pins them on.) There, now you are wearing what you have won.
Blake Yes. They positively glow with indecency and vulgarity. Best of all, they clink when I walk. Spasiba, Zinaida.
Zinaida Zanyeshna.
Zinaida goes into kitchen.
Blake Ah, yes, Tom Wingard. The memory of him brings me to the main point of this section of my book. That for those of us who worked steadily for the Communist cause, the Hitler–Stalin pact, the show trials, the summary executions, the internment, exiling or wholesale massacre of millions were indeed – (pauses to find word) sensitive issues. The struggle to reconcile our personal sense of what is just and right with our acknowledgement that there is a greater good at stake – a country of the future – is a painful one. But in the end that ideal, the country of the future, must prevail. The aphorism ‘You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs’ is often quoted. To which the frequent reply is: ‘But supposing I don’t want an omelette?’ To this I can only say –
Viktor, carrying Bourke’s suitcase, enters the dining room. He is followed by Bourke, who is followed by Stan, carrying Bourke’s overnight bag.
Bourke Well, where is he, then? Where is George?
>
Stan He is probably in his study. Working.
Viktor Let us put your bags in your bedroom.
Stan And then we will find him.
Blake, medal still dangling half-attached, hurries into dining room, followed by Zinaida.
Blake At last! Robert!
Bourke Who?
Blake Well, here you are then.
Blake goes to Bourke, embraces him. Bourke responds.
Bourke Yes, here I am, George!
Blake Ah, Robert.
Bourke Robert, that’s twice in two sentences you’ve called me Robert, George, don’t you remember me? It’s only been three weeks since you saw me.
Blake Robert’s your – your nom de guerre while you’re here – nom de plume as well, come to think of it. Don’t worry – I’ll explain it all to you when you’ve had a chance to settle. You’ll be amused –
He throws anxious glances towards Stan and Viktor, who smile, nod.
I promise you.
Bourke What are those then, George?
Blake Oh, just – just a couple of gongs. Given for services rendered. Order of Red Banner. Order of Lenin. And this is Zinaida! My housekeeper. A jolly good one too. (To Zinaida, in Russian.) This is our guest, Comrade Robert.
Zinaida (in Russian) Comrade Robert. (Nods.)
Bourke (attempting what he thinks is Russian greeting) Comrobert. (Then realising.) Oh, Robert! Comrade Robert – that’s me.
Blake Yes, you – (In Russian.) Can we have a bottle of champagne please, Zinaida?
Zinaida Of course.
There is an awkward pause.
Bourke And of course you know Stan and – and – (Gesturing from Stan to Viktor.)
Stan Oh yes. George knows us very well. We have become his great – great –
Viktor Chumps is the word. George’s great chumps.
Stan No, no, chaps. We are great chaps.
Blake (slightly obsequious) No, Stan – I think the word you’re both looking for is chums. We’re great chums, the three of us. The four of us, I hope, Robert.
Viktor What then is a chump?
Stan I believe I know. A chump is a person who does something he knows is foolish. A mistake. (Looks from Blake to Bourke.)
Blake Yes, yes, an excellent definition, wouldn’t you say, Robert?
Bourke (watching closely but with an attempt at casualness) That’s right. ‘Oh, what a chump!’ we say. ‘What a chump you’ve made of yourself.’
Blake Yes. ‘What a chump you’ve –’ But why are we all so formal? Let’s sit down, um, chaps – (laughs nervously) like chums. Zinaida’s gone to get us some refreshment, Stan, Viktor, Robert – champagne, you’ll be glad to hear there’s a plentiful supply of it, thanks to our excellent hosts – (Almost bows to Stan and Viktor.) And spirits too, mainly vodka, of course – but champagne’s my favourite tipple –
Zinaida enters with tray, on it a bottle of champagne and glasses. She puts it on the table.
Russian, of course, but I’ve come almost to prefer it to the French, which I haven’t drunk since my days in the British Consul in West Berlin and so can scarcely remember, but the Russian variety is fruity, earthy, it has a – a ripe peasanty fruitiness and pleasantness – (opening bottle and pouring) that I’ve come to – to prefer. (Small, awkward pause.) And as I say, there’s lots of it – Oh, Robert, Robert! Robert!
Bourke (gives a start, realising) Oh sorry, yes, that’s me, isn’t it? (Little pause.) Yes, George?
Blake What was your journey like? I was getting quite anxious – wasn’t I, Stan?
Stan Yes. He was afraid you had changed your mind about coming.
Viktor We would not have liked that, Robert.
Blake So what was it like, your trip to Moscow?
Bourke (assumes a tone of jolliness, glancing nervously from face to face as he speaks) Well, George, as it turned out, it was the loveliest trip of my life – ‘Have you anything to declare?’ asks the man at Victoria Station. ‘Only a pint of scotch,’ says I, ‘and that’s inside me’ –
Laughs. Blake, Stan and Viktor laugh.
– and stamp they go, on my false passport. I got one in the name of Kennedy, George K. Kennedy – I mean, what’s the point of spending five years in the Scrubs if you don’t know how to get a false passport in the name of George K. Kennedy to take you to where you don’t want to go?
He laughs. Stan and Viktor look at Bourke blankly.
Stan Where you don’t want to go?
Blake There, that’s what I was telling you about, the Irish sense of humour, they love anarchic jokes, jokes that seem hostile –
Bourke Oh Jesus, yes, chaps – (Laughs again.) That’s the joke I always made to myself every time I approached a new frontier, out of terror, you see. But I needn’t have worried, because stamp they go in Calais, and stamp they go in Berlin – stamp, stamp, stamp, stamping me and old George K. right through Checkpoint Charlie –
Stan Stamp?
Viktor You put it on an envelope? Or walk heavily, stamp, stamp –
Blake No. On your passport. (Makes passport-stamping motion with his fist.)
Stan (in Russian) You have his passport?
Viktor (in Russian) I forgot to take it.
Bourke What? A problem –?
Blake Viktor was just saying to Stan that he forgot to take your passport.
Viktor Yes. My mistake. Can I have it, please?
Bourke My passport?
Stan We have another one for you.
Viktor And it is not forged.
Bourke Oh. Well, in that case –
Takes passport out of his pocket. Viktor takes it, hands him new passport. Bourke studies it.
But it’s – what is it? I can’t make it out.
Stan It’s Ukrainian.
Viktor With your name on it. Robert Adamovich Garvin.
Bourke Robert Adamovich –
Viktor Garvin.
Blake Which is why I’ve been calling you Robert, you see, Robert.
Bourke Robert Adamovich Garvin, eh? (Makes to put passport into his pocket.)
Viktor Please permit me, Robert.
Takes passport from him, puts both of Bourke’s passports into his pocket.
Bourke But – but I don’t get to keep it, then? Not either of them?
Viktor It remains in possession of the Department.
Bourke But when I go home. I mean, how do I –?
Stan It is returned to you.
Bourke Oh. Well, I suppose that’s – that’ll do. As long as I can get it when I need it. But it‘s a little strange, George. For me, I mean. Here I am, one minute Sean Bourke, with a false passport of my own, and the next I’ve got a genuine passport in somebody else’s name – Robert Adamovich something – and the next I haven’t got any passport at all. (Laughs anxiously.) If you see. A little strange, eh? (Little pause.) George?
Blake Yes. Yes, I know. But – well, they want to keep your identity concealed, Robert. There are spies all over Moscow. British, American, West German. They’re bound to discover I’m here. Any day now. Isn’t that right?
Stan It is inevitable. A certainty.
Blake (referring to Stan and Viktor) And then if they discover I’m being visited by an Irishman called Sean Bourke, late of the Wormwood Scrubs – well, that will lead them to Nigel and Dick, also late of the Wormwood Scrubs. And then to Annie. And Philip. And Miranda – Dr Joseph – they’ll all go to jail. We don’t want that. Do we?
Bourke No. No, of course not.
Stan We are very grateful to you and your friends for all that you have done for us. You have brought George Blake here. To us.
Viktor You must not be punished because of it.
Bourke No. Thank you. You’re right –
Blake The George that’s here – this George – (passing the glasses on tray) wants to propose a toast.
Holds up glass. Others follow suit.
To Robert Adamovich Garvin! Without whom this George – the George that’s here – wouldn
’t be here!
Viktor and Stan Robert Adamovich Garvin!
They drain off their glasses.
Bourke Thank you, thank you.
Stan Now (rising) I have to go home. To arrange for my wife’s aunt’s husband’s funeral.
Blake Oh, I’m sorry, Stan. Very, very sorry. My condolences to – to your wife. To … Katerina.
Stan Oh, she is happy. He was not a nice – chap – you see. In fact, he was a complete chump. Shouting, swearing, drunk, violent. Often I wanted to –
Points finger at Bourke, makes soft shooting noise.
Viktor (who has also risen) I must go home too. My daughter is taking part in her school’s display of gymnastics. She is gifted but dumpling. I tell her, ‘Starve, my child, starve and become famous and rich.’ But like most childs –
Stan Children.
Viktor Yes, of course, yes, children – like most children she likes to lie on the cushions listening to pop, and who can blame her? I tell you who. Her mother. Also me. (Laughs.) So –
Stan So. So welcome to Russia, Robert.
Shakes Bourke’s hand.
Viktor Yes, welcome to Moscow. I hope you will be at home with us.
Shakes Bourke’s hand.
Bourke Thank you, I am, I feel I am. Thank you.
Blake Goodnight, comrades. See you soon. And thank you for all – all you’ve done for us.
Bourke Yes, thank you.
Stan (in Russian, to Blake) How is the book coming on?
Blake (in Russian) Oh, I keep working on it.
Stan nods.
Viktor (in Russian) If you need any help –?
Blake (in Russian) Perhaps when I get to the end –
Stan and Viktor go out, calling ‘goodnights’ to Zinaida, who returns them.
Bourke What was that? The Russian bit at the end?
Blake They were asking about my book.
Bourke Your book?