CLAIRE. What for? To charge me with slander? (A look from JOYCE is enough to make CLAIRE say:) But Mum, I already have a solicitor.
JOYCE. I know that, don’t I? This one specialised in custody, you should have got one who knew all about it in the first place.
CLAIRE (through clenched teeth). I have got one who deals with custody.
JOYCE. Yes, normal custody. Not one who deals with … you know … special circumstances.
CLAIRE (firmly). It’s too late now Mum.
JOYCE (sighs). I just wish …
CLAIRE (cutting her off). It’s no good bloody wishing, is it? Please get on with it.
JOYCE. The solicitor I saw was a specialist in …
CLAIRE. In special custody cases. Yes, you said that.
JOYCE. And on top of that, she was one of your lot as well.
CLAIRE (deliberately provocative). What, a teacher?
JOYCE. You know what I mean. (Then quickly.) Anyway she was very nice.
CLAIRE. She told you just like that.
JOYCE. No, I asked her outright, didn’t I? Seemed a waste of time talking to one who wasn’t and apart from that she had very good qualifications.
CLAIRE. She had to tell you that as well.
JOYCE. I could see that for myself, couldn’t I? For one thing the sign on the door had so many letters on it there was hardly any room for the name.
CLAIRE (flippantly). Maybe we went to the same university.
JOYCE. Oh, I shouldn’t wonder at all. I’ve always maintained that’s where all those ideas come from. Those individual tutorials and seminal thingeys seem to lead to nothing but indulgent self-importance.
CLAIRE. So did you ask her?
JOYCE. Of course not. It’s up to her own mother to find out where she went wrong.
CLAIRE. Which university she went to.
JOYCE (becoming angry). You what? You take the biscuit, you do, you’re enough to try the patience of a saint. Do you know that? I haven’t trailed half way across the country to find a whatname solicitor to ask which university she went to – just what sort of moron do you take me for?
CLAIRE. Can you get on with it because I can’t understand a word you’re saying.
JOYCE (angry). Just who do you think you are, girl? Eh? Just who? You’ve always been just a bit too quick with the backchat. You might find me ignorant, but if I hadn’t made those sacrifices to get you the education that I never had, at least I wouldn’t be made to feel small now, by you and your clever talk. (CLAIRE looks away but simultaneously mouths every word of the next sentence.) That tongue of yours is so sharp that one day you’ll cut yourself in half with it. (Having caught a glimpse of CLAIRE out of the corner of her eye.) Oh yes, and you think I’m shallow and boring and mentally rearranged.
CLAIRE (winces). I never said that.
JOYCE. Yes, but you’ve thought it. I’ve not had half of what you’ve had and it didn’t fall out of the sky. I worked for it, only, only to have you march in so many years later on, and announce with glee that you were living as man and wife with a woman and I’m trying to change, trying to explain to family and friends. For me and my lifetime, I’ve had to adapt much more than you ever have.
CLAIRE (quietly). It was hardly gleeful.
JOYCE. Whatever, whatever, it’s much easier living in ignorance but it’s not so awful, harder, painful even but not awful trying to understand. What is so awful is, for all I’ve tried, I get told to shut up and get lost.
CLAIRE (softly). I didn’t.
JOYCE. You might as well have done. But when all’s said and done, I’m still your mother and nothing is going to be able to change that for either of us.
CLAIRE (smiles). No.
JOYCE. And sleepless nights won’t change anything, so I said to myself, Joyce, I said, worrying won’t make it go away, get off your behind and do something, so I went to the top set of chambers they call them to find a solicitor.
CLAIRE. So far so good. I’m with you.
JOYCE. And I said, if it was your daughter and your granddaughter, what would you advise them to do?
Pause.
CLAIRE (gently). Yes.
JOYCE. She told me to tell you both to skip the country.
CLAIRE (flatly). I hope you didn’t pay for that advice.
JOYCE. As it happens I didn’t have to, no. But I was more than willing to, I might add, and for your information that’s just what you’re going to do.
CLAIRE. Don’t be so … so … we’ll just hitch out to the airport, and say what with having to appear in court and all would they just fly us out of the way. And where did you think we should go to?
JOYCE. Just hold your horses and while you’re about it, that tongue of yours as well.
CLAIRE (ignoring this). Where? And where have you thought we’d go?
JOYCE. America.
CLAIRE. America??!!
JOYCE. I know it can’t be done just like that. God knows you don’t get nothing in this life that easily. (Deep breath.) So I had a long chat with Sybil and she will arrange everything that end and I’ve spoken to Mrs Cuthberts downstairs, you know, the one with the son who manages the travel agents and he can get the plane tickets and visa and I went to the bank to see about travellers’ cheques.
CLAIRE (exasperated). But Mum.
JOYCE. And I’ve been to the building society today and I want you to have it. (She takes out an envelope and puts it in CLAIRE’s lap.) That’s all I wanted to say.
JOYCE gets up to go. CLAIRE gently takes hold of JOYCE’s wrist so her mother remains where she is. Long pause.
CLAIRE (almost inaudibly). But Mum.
JOYCE (stickily). We have our differences – we’ll probably have them until the day I die, but I do know this much, if we didn’t have them, Lawrence wouldn’t be able to use them to get back at you.
CLAIRE (hands back the envelope. JOYCE will not take it. CLAIRE puts it on the floor between them). I can’t. (Slight pause.) You’d do this for me? (Pause.) There are laws, that would give them the power to bring us back.
JOYCE. They’ll have to find you first, and all the time they’re looking will cost Lawrence money and mark my words, he’ll give up. If not, in a couple of years Poppy’s age will make sure he has no say in the matter.
CLAIRE. And just what do I tell Poppy? That’s no way to bring her up, living as a fugitive.
JOYCE. Fugitive nothing and it won’t be the rest of your life, will it? It’s only to see you over. You always over-dramatise things. How are you going to explain to Poppy anyway, Lawrence has everything to back him up. You’ve got to play a game by somebody else’s rules just to keep her with you, which you both want but are unlikely to get.
CLAIRE (flatly). I think I’ve got to go through with it.
JOYCE. Why? Seems to me that nobody cares what a good mother you are. All they care about is the other thing. And wearing a dress from Marks and Spencer on the day is hardly likely to fool anyone either. And what about that welfare officer? No sooner was my foot in the door, when this voice booms ‘And what do you feel about your daughter’s homosexuality?’ And I said, ‘Could be worse, she could be dead’. Well, it was a joke, wasn’t it, only every word got written down.
CLAIRE. Look, once in court I can take that report apart and show it up for what it is.
JOYCE (agreeing). I’m sure, I’m sure, and who will they believe? A lot rests on these people. No, look, it’s taken me long enough to come round and I’m your mother so you’re hardly going to persuade some Hoorray Henry judge with a broom handle up his backside, to your way of thinking, not in an afternoon anyway.
CLAIRE. No, I won’t give in. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from you it’s stand my ground and fight.
JOYCE. And if there’s one thing I didn’t teach it was to sink. This time you’re up to your neck in quicksand and wrenching your own head won’t help. You need a hand – somebody else’s. Before you say anything, Sybil said that.
CLAIRE. Typical Sybil line tha
t is. It’s not what I want.
JOYCE. I don’t want it either but it seemed to me that only by letting go of the two of you could any sort of solution be found.
CLAIRE. Thank you, Mum, but I can’t.
Scene Four
BEA’s living-room. BEA shows DIANE and TERRI in.
BEA. This really isn’t on, you know. If you wanted to see me you should have come to my office.
TERRI. We wanted to talk to you urgently.
BEA. How did you know where I lived?
DIANE. The phone book.
BEA. I see. Well, now you’re here, sit down.
DIANE and TERRI sit nervously on the edge of the settee.
But I’m not in the mood to listen to threats and ultimatums so if that’s what you’re about you can walk right out again.
TERRI. No, we realised that we’d done a lot of damage.
BEA. I’m listening. I would offer you a cup of tea only the water is temporarily cut off.
DIANE. We overheard something about Mrs Anderson.
FLORRIE (shouts off). Bea? Would you be a darling and bring me an adjustable spanner?
BEA (gets up quickly). One minute. (To DIANE and TERRI:) My lodger is changing a washer.
FLORRIE (shouts off). Thanks, darling.
BEA. Excuse me. (Once out of the door we hear BEA charging up the stairs.)
DIANE. Fancy calling your landlady darling.
TERRI. Must work in the theatre. They all do that.
DIANE. Yeah. (She gets up and starts looking around the room.)
TERRI. Sit down. If she finds you poking your nose into anything she’ll throw us out.
DIANE. We’ll know when she’s coming back. She couldn’t have made more noise going up the stairs if she’d tried.
TERRI (gets up and surveys the bookcase). Boring, boring, boring.
DIANE (finds a small framed photograph behind a plant). Hey, look at this, an old photo of Bea with her arm round a woman.
TERRI (looking at the photo). They all did that then. Gawd, look at those shoes.
DIANE. She’s still got them by the sound of it. (She opens the desk drawer and tentatively rummages around its contents.)
TERRI (alarmed). Don’t do that.
DIANE. She poked her nose into our lives.
TERRI. We shoved our lives under her nose, you mean.
DIANE (pulls out a card). Look, an anniversary card.
TERRI. Blimey. Maybe she was married then.
Both of them look at it.
DIANE (reads). What can I say after twelve years except -
TERRI. Don’t read it out loud, it’s embarrassing.
They both read it.
TERRI
DIANE
(exclaim in unison). All my love, Florrie.
They look at each other.
TERRI
DIANE
Miss Grimble’s one.
Their discovery causes such elation that they jump and dance around the room, hugging each other, proclaiming ‘Miss Grimble’s one’ until the sound of BEA clumping, in a rather more dignified manner, down the stairs. DIANE throws the card back in the drawer and shuts it. They sit on the settee as before. Enter BEA.
BEA. I’m sorry about that. Now where were we? (DIANE and TERRI just sit and stare at her slightly open-mouthed.) Mrs Anderson. Now what d’you know of Mrs Anderson’s business?
DIANE. Mrs Anderson. Yes. Ummmm. We didn’t realise about her custody case.
BEA. And how did you find out about it?
TERRI. We accidentally – (She stops herself) – we were eavesdropping, Miss Grimble.
DIANE (having recovered herself). In fact, we’re thinking of setting up as a detective agency.
TERRI (to MISS GRIMBLE). We had to tell you about it. (To DIANE:) Be quiet, Diane.
BEA. Actually, Linda, Miss Fellows, put me in the picture this afternoon.
DIANE. We’ve come to make a bargain.
TERRI. She means to be flexible and apologise.
BEA. But what can I do?
DIANE. Go to court and testify for Mrs Anderson.
BEA. I don’t know about that.
FLORRIE (shouts off). Water’s back. Shall I put the kettle on?
DIANE. Two sugars for me, please, Florrie. Ta.
TERRI (nudges DIANE). Shush.
DIANE grins.
Scene Five
Outside the courtroom. Before CLAIRE is about to enter the room. Enter BEA.
BEA. Claire? Claire?
CLAIRE. Miss Grimble. What are you doing here?
BEA. I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?
CLAIRE. How did you find out?
BEA. It’s too long a story to unravel just now.
CLAIRE. I hope you’ve not come here to be defamatory about my character.
BEA. Quite the opposite. In fact, if I’d known about this I’d have made a change in direction earlier in the day.
CLAIRE. Meaning what?
BEA. I’m here to offer what support I can.
CLAIRE. Thank you. (Pause.) And what of Diane et al?
BEA. I’m still negotiating with them. Oh, absolutely no question of expulsion. We are simply haggling over the new section of the history syllabus. But I’m very much hoping for a settlement on the word ‘spinsters’. But first things first. I’ve explained to your barrister that should it be necessary I will testify to the fact that you are my deputy and an excellent teacher.
CLAIRE. Thank you.
BEA. Whatever else, I do understand about loss especially when it can go unrecognised or without a glimmer of sympathy from those around you.
CLAIRE. I’ve got a lot on my side, a good home and career and, if I say so myself, I’m a very good mother.
BEA. You’re not going to be judged on the quality of your parenting but on the basis of your sexuality.
Fade. Lights up on LAWRENCE and his barrister. A FEMALE CLERK hovers in the background.
BARRISTER. When we win, will you take your little girl straightaway?
LAWRENCE. No, tomorrow morning will suit me better. Do you actually think it’s a foregone conclusion?
BARRISTER. Everything’s in your favour. (To the CLERK:) Be a love and get an extra copy of the welfare officer’s report.
Exit CLERK.
LAWRENCE. Even so, she is her mother, I suppose.
BARRISTER (drily). Now is not the time to doubt her parentage. (Then.) Mr Anderson, you must be prepared to explain everything to the court, if necessary in the detail in which you first relayed it to me, and then we will have dismantled every right she thought was hers.
LAWRENCE. I was extremely angry when I first sought your advice.
BARRISTER. But you still want your daughter.
LAWRENCE. Yes.
BARRISTER. Therefore you will have to be prepared to ‘throw the book’ at your ex-wife. (Pause.) Well?
LAWRENCE (firmly). Yes.
BARRISTER. Good. Then our case is watertight.
CLERK OF THE COURT (voice off). Custody Case Number Thirty-Seven – Anderson versus Anderson.
Fade. Lights on VAL.
VAL. I think now, that I knew I was getting ill, losing control. I remember when the boys were just babies and we lived in hard-to-let flats with the railway track running behind our block and lifting one of them up to see a train go past – it all seems so insignificant now. He was fascinated and as I held him I started to cry and repeat over and over ‘This is a little person’. I felt happy and overwhelmingly sad at the same time, I don’t know why and from then on it was like getting drunk. No, nothing dramatic, like swinging naked from chandeliers, not that I suppose I wouldn’t have been tempted had any swung my way – like when you start to get drunk, you relax, tell yourself you can sober up in a minute, only you can’t and when confronted with sober people you know you’re losing ground, so you appear more drunk, not that you could appear sober if you wanted to anyway. It’s very difficult to remember being unhappy – the actual feeling, like when you’re freezi
ng cold in the middle of winter – you can remember lying on the beach boiling hot but you can’t imagine enough to feel it. And when you’re lying in the sun you can only remember being cold but not what it felt like. (Pause.) I haven’t got an old self. I haven’t got a new self to be cast on and off like a winter and summer coat. What I am is me.
JUDGE (voice off). Custody, care and control are awarded to the natural father, Lawrence Anderson.
Lights up on CLAIRE and JOYCE.
JOYCE. Nobody would believe that anyone above those appointed to sit in judgement could ask such filthy questions. Those people are obsessed, they must be sick in the head. I might have difficulty saying the word lesbian but nobody makes me ashamed for loving my own daughter.
LAWRENCE crosses in front of them.
LAWRENCE (to CLAIRE). First thing tomorrow morning and have everything ready.
Scene Six
VAL, ready to go home. Enter NURSE.
NURSE. I’m just about to go off duty but your sister rang up with this message. (She hands her a piece of paper.) From New York. I hope it’s not bad news.
VAL (reads the note then looks up). No, not in the circumstances.
NURSE. Val, I just wanted to say …
Enter the OLDER DOCTOR.
DOCTOR. Looking forward to going home, Mrs Jones?
VAL. I’m looking forward to leaving here.
DOCTOR. Now, you know where we are, should you ever need us. Must take it easy when you get home, not rush things, but I’m sure Dr March has explained that to you.
VAL. Yes, Doctor.
DOCTOR. Good. (He looks at his watch.) What time did your husband say he’d collect you?
VAL. My mother’s taking me home.
DOCTOR. Right, I see. Well, I’d better go before I’m tempted to make a quip about women not being renowned for punctuality. The sound of furious knocking on a door can be heard.
LAWRENCE (off). Come on. Open the bloody door. It’s no use stalling for time.
DOCTOR. What on earth is that noise?
Neither VAL nor the NURSE have heard anything and both look blankly at him.
NURSE. What noise?
DOCTOR. Sounds like someone is pulling the whole place apart. Come with me. (He turns to exit.) All the very best then, Mrs Jones. (Exit. The NURSE reluctantly follows.)
Plays One Page 27