David Hare Plays 1

by David Hare

  Announcer Ici Londres. Les voix de la liberté. Ensuite quelques messages personnels. Mon Oncle Albert a perdu son chien. Mon – Oncle – Albert – a – perdu – son – chien.

  A heavy thump in the darkness. Then the sound of someone running towards the noise. A small amount of light shows us the scene. Lazar is trying to disentangle himself from his parachute. He has landed at the edge of the wood. At the back Susan runs on from a great distance, wrapped in a greatcoat against the cold. She has a scarf round her face so that only her eyes can he seen. She is extremely nervous and vulnerable, and her uncertainty makes her rude and abrupt.

  Susan Eh, qu’est-ce que vous faites ici?

  Lazar Ah rien. Laisse-moi un moment, je peux tout expliquer.

  Susan takes a revolver from her pocket and moves towards him. She stoops down, feels the edge of Lazar’s parachute.

  Susan Donnez-moi votre sac.

  Lazar throws across the satchel which has been tied to his waist. Susan looks through it, then puts the gun back in her pocket.

  And your French is not good.

  Susan moves quickly away to listen for sounds in the night. Lazar watches then speaks quietly to her back. Lazar is a code name; he is, of course, English.

  Lazar Where am I?

  Susan Please be quiet. I can’t hear when you speak. (Pause.) There’s a road. Through the wood. Gestapo patrol.

  Lazar I see.

  Susan I thought I heard something.

  Lazar Are you waiting for supplies?

  Susan On the hour. There’s meant to be a drop. I thought it was early, that’s why I flashed.

  Lazar I’m sorry. We had to take advantage of your light. We were losing fuel. I’m afraid I’m meant to be eighty miles on. Can you … could you tell me where I am?

  Susan You’ve landed near a village called St Benoît. It’s close to a town called Poitiers, all right?

  Lazar Yes. I think. I have heard of it you know.

  Pause. She half-turns but still does not look at him.

  Susan Hadn’t you better take that thing off?

  Lazar We are in the same racket, I suppose?

  Susan Well we’re pretty well dished if we aren’t. Did you spot any movement as you came down?

  Lazar None at all. We just picked out your light.

  Susan If you didn’t see anything I’d like to hold on. We need the drop badly – explosives and guns.

  Lazar Have you come out on your own?

  A pause. He has taken off his jump-suit. Underneath he is dressed as a French peasant. Now he puts a beret on.

  You’d better tell me, how does this look?

  Susan I’d rather not look at you. It’s an element of risk which we really don’t need to take. In my experience it is best, it really is best if you always obey the rules.

  Lazar But you’d like me to hold on and help you I think?

  Pause.

  Listen, I’m happy I might be of some use. My own undertaking is somewhat up the spout. Whatever happens I’m several days late. If I could hold on and be of any help … I’m sure I’d never have to look you in the face.

  Susan All right, if you could just …

  Lazar Look the opposite … yes. I will. I’m delighted.

  He does so.

  All right?

  Susan If you could hold on, I’m sure I could find you a bike.

  Lazar Would you like a cigarette?

  Susan Thank you very much.

  Pause.

  Cafés are bad meeting places, much less safe than they seem. Don’t go near Bourges, it’s very bad for us. Don’t carry anything in toothpaste tubes, it’s become the first place they look. Don’t laugh too much. An Englishman’s laugh, it just doesn’t sound the same. Are they still teaching you to broadcast from the lavatory?

  Lazar Yes.

  Susan Well don’t. And don’t hide your receiver in the cistern, the whole dodge is badly out of date. The Gestapo have been crashing into lavatories for a full two months. Never take the valley road beyond Poitiers, I’ll show you a side-road.

  Pause.

  And that’s it really. The rest you know, or will learn.

  Lazar How long have you been here?

  Susan Perhaps a year. Off and on. How’s everyone at home?

  Lazar They’re fine.

  Susan The boss?

  Lazar Fine. Gave me some cufflinks at the aerodrome. Told me my chances.

  Susan Fifty-fifty?

  Lazar Yes.

  Susan He’s getting out of touch.

  Pause.

  Lazar How has it been?

  Susan Well … the Germans are still here.

  Lazar You mean we’re failing?

  Susan Not at all. It’s part of our brief. Keep them here, keep them occupied. Blow up their bridges, devastate the roads, so they have to waste their manpower chasing after us. Divert them from the front. Well that’s what we’ve done.

  Lazar I see.

  Susan But it’s the worst thing about the job, the more successful you are, the longer it goes on.

  Lazar Until we win.

  Susan Oh yes.

  Pause.

  A friend … a friend who was here used to say, never kill a German, always shoot him in the leg. That way he goes to hospital where he has to be looked after, where he’ll use up enemy resources. But a dead soldier is forgotten and replaced.

  Pause.

  Lazar Do you have dark hair?

  Susan What?

  Lazar One strand across your face. Very young. Sitting one day next to the mahogany door. At the recruitment place. And above your shoulder at the other side, Whitaker’s Almanack.

  Susan turns.

  Susan You know who I am.

  The sound of an aeroplane. Susan moves back and begins to flash her torch up into the night. Lazar crosses.

  Lazar That’s it over there.

  Susan Wait.

  Lazar Isn’t that it?

  Susan Don’t move across. Just wait.

  Lazar That’s the drop.

  The light stops. And the sound of the plane dies. Susan moves back silently and stands behind Lazar looking out into the field.

  Susan It’s all right, leave it. It’s safer to wait a moment or two.

  Lazar Oh my God.

  Susan What?

  Lazar Out across the field. Look …

  Susan Get down.

  They both lie down.

  Lazar He’s picking it up. Let’s get away from here.

  Susan No.

  Lazar Come on, for God’s sake …

  Susan No.

  Lazar If it’s the Gestapo …

  Susan Gestapo nothing, it’s the bloody French.

  From where they have been looking comes a dark figure running like mad with an enormous parcel wrapped in a parachute. Susan tries to intercept him. A furious row breaks out in heavy whispers.

  Posez ça par terre, ce n’est pas à vous.

  Frenchman Si, c’est à nous. Je ne vous connais pas.

  Susan Non, l’avion était anglais. C’est à nous.

  Frenchman Non, c’est désigné pour la résistance.

  Lazar Oh God.

  He stands watching as Susan, handling the Frenchman very badly, begins to lose her temper. They stand shouting in the night.

  Susan Vous savez bien que c’est nous qui devons diriger le mouvement de tous les armements. Pour les Français c’est tout à fait impossible …

  Frenchman Va te faire foutre.

  Susan Si vous ne me le donnez pas …

  Frenchman Les Anglais n’ont jamais compris la France. Il faut absolument que ce soit les Français qui déterminent notre avenir.

  Susan Posez ça …

  Frenchman C’est pour la France.

  The Frenchman begins to go. Lazar has walked quietly across to behind Susan and now takes the gun from her pocket. The Frenchman sees it.

  Arr yew raven mad?

  Lazar Please put it down.

  Pause.

  Please.r />
  The Frenchman lowers the package to the ground. Then stands up.

  Please tell your friends we’re sorry. We do want to help. Mais parfois ce sont les Français mêmes qui le rendent difficile.

  Frenchman Nobody ask you. Nobody ask you to come. Vous n’êtes pas les bienvenus ici.

  Susan about to reply but Lazar holds up his hand at once.

  Lazar Compris.

  Frenchman Espèce de con.

  There is a pause. Then the Frenchman turns and walks out. Lazar keeps him covered, then turns to start picking the stuff up. Susan moves well away.

  Lazar Bloody Gaullists.

  Pause.

  I mean, what do they have for brains?

  Susan I don’t know.

  Lazar I mean really.

  Susan They just expect the English to die. They sit and watch us spitting blood in the streets.

  Lazar looks up at Susan, catching her tone. Then moves towards her as calmly as he can.

  Lazar Here’s your gun.

  Lazar slips the gun into Susan’s pocket, but as he does she takes his hand into hers.

  We must be off.

  Susan I’m sorry, I’m so frightened.

  Lazar I must bury the silk.

  Susan I’m not an agent, I’m just a courier. I carry messages between certain circuits …

  Lazar Please …

  Susan I came tonight, it’s my first drop, there is literally nobody else, I can’t tell you the mess in Poitiers …

  Lazar Please.

  Susan My friend, the man I mentioned, he’s been taken to Buchenwald. He was the wireless operator, please let me tell you, his name was Tony …

  Lazar I can’t help.

  Susan I have to talk …

  Lazar No.

  Susan What’s the point, what’s the point of following the rules if …?

  Lazar You mustn’t …

  Susan I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die like that.

  Suddenly Susan embraces Lazar, putting her head on his shoulder and crying uncontrollably. He puts his hand through her hair. Then after a long time, she turns and walks some paces away, in silence. They stand for some time.

  Lazar Did you know … did you know sound waves never die? So every noise we make goes into the sky. And there is a place somewhere in the corner of the universe where all the babble of the world is kept.

  Pause. Then Lazar starts gathering the equipment together.

  Come on, let’s clear this lot up. We must be off. I don’t know how I’m going to manage on French cigarettes. Is there somewhere I can buy bicycle clips? I was thinking about it all the way down. Oh yes and something else. A mackerel sky. What is the phrase for that?

  Susan Un ciel pommelé.

  Lazar Un ciel pommelé. Marvellous. I must find a place to slip it in. Now. Where will I find this bike?

  Lazar has collected everything and gone out. Susan follows him.

  Susan I don’t know your name.

  SCENE THREE

  Brussels. June 1947.

  From the dark the sound of a small string orchestra gives way to the voice of an Announcer.

  Announcer Ici Bruxelles – INR. Et maintenant notre soirée continue avec la musique de Victor Sylvester et son orchestre. Victor Sylvester est parmi les musiciens anglais les plus aimés à cause de ses maintes émissions à la radio anglaise pendant la guerre.

  Evening. A gilt room. A fine desk. Good leather chairs. A portrait of the King. Behind the desk Sir Leonard Darwin is working, silver-haired, immaculate, well into his late forties. A knock at the door and Raymond Brock comes in. An ingenuous figure, not yet thirty, with a small moustache and a natural energy he finds hard to contain in the proper manner. He refers constantly to his superior and this makes him uneasy.

  Brock Sir Leonard …

  Darwin Come in.

  Brock A few moments of your time. If I could possibly …

  Darwin You have my ear.

  Brock The case of a British national who’s died. It’s just been landed in my lap. A tourist named Radley’s dropped dead in his hotel. It was a coronary, seems fairly clear. The Belgian police took the matter in hand, but naturally the widow has come along to us. It should be quite easy, she’s taking it well.

  Darwin nods. Brock goes to the door.

  Mrs Radley. The ambassador.

  Susan has come in. She is simply and soberly dressed. She looks extremely attractive.

  Darwin If you’d like to sit down.

  She sits opposite him at the desk. Brock stands respectfully at the other side of the room.

  Please accept my condolences. The Third Secretary has told me a little of your plight. Naturally we’ll help in any way we can.

  Brock I’ve already taken certain practical steps. I’ve been to the mortuary.

  Susan That’s very kind.

  Brock Belgian undertakers.

  Darwin One need not say more. Your husband had a heart attack, is that right?

  Susan Yes. In the foyer of our hotel.

  Darwin Painless …

  Susan I would hope. He was packing the car. We were planning to move on this morning. We only have two weeks. We were hoping to make Innsbruck, at least if our travel allowance would last. It was our first holiday since the war.

  Darwin Brock, a handkerchief.

  Susan No.

  Pause.

  Brock I was persuaded to opt for an embalming, I’m afraid. It may involve you in some small extra cost.

  Susan Excuse me, but you’ll have to explain the point.

  Brock Sorry?

  Susan Of the embalming I mean.

  Brock looks to his superior, but decides to persist.

  Brock Well, particularly in the summer it avoids the possibility of the body exploding at a bad moment. I mean any moment would be bad, it goes without saying, but on the aeroplane, say.

  Susan I see.

  Brock You see, normally you find the body’s simply washed … I don’t know how much detail you want me to provide …

  Darwin I would think it better if …

  Susan No, I would like to know. Tony was a doctor. He would want me to know.

  Brock pauses, then speaks with genuine interest.

  Brock To be honest I was surprised at how little there is to do. There’s a small bottle of spirit, colourless, and they simply give the body a wash. The only other thing is the stomach, if there’s been a meal, a recent meal …

  Susan Tony had …

  Brock Yes, he had breakfast I think. You insert a pipe into the corpse’s stomach to let the gases out. They insert it and there’s a strange sort of sigh.

  Darwin shifts.

  Darwin If, er …

  Brock It leaves almost no mark. Apparently, so they told me, the morgue attendants when they’re bored sometimes set light to the gas for a joke. Makes one hell of a bang.

  Darwin Shall we all have a drink?

  Darwin gets up. Brock tries to backtrack.

  Brock But of course I’m sure it didn’t happen in this particular case.

  Darwin No. There is gin. There is tonic. Yes?

  Susan Thank you.

  Darwin mixes drinks and hands them round.

  Brock I’m afraid we shall need to discuss the practical arrangements. I know the whole subject is very distressing but there is the question … you do want the body flown back?

  Susan Well, I can hardly stash it in the boot of the car.

  A pause. Darwin lost.

  Darwin What the Third Secretary is saying … not buried on foreign soil.

  Susan No.

  Brock Quite. You see for the moment we take care of it, freight charges, and His Majesty’s Government picks up the bill. But perhaps later we will have to charge it to the estate, if there is an estate. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interfere …

  Susan I’m sure there’ll be enough to pay for it all. Tony made a very reasonable living.

  Darwin gets up.

  Darwin Well, I think we now understa
nd your needs. I shall go downstairs and set the matter in train.

  Brock Would you prefer it if I did that, sir?

  Darwin No, no. You stay and talk to Mrs Radley. I’ll have a word with the travel people, make a booking on tomorrow morning’s flight, if that suits?

  Susan Yes, of course.

  Darwin You will be going back with the body, I assume?

  Susan Yes.

  Darwin Are there other dependants? Children?

  Susan No.

  Darwin goes out. A pause.

  Brock If …

  Susan He doesn’t like you.

  Brock Sorry.

  Susan The ambassador.

  Brock Oh. Well, no.

  Pause.

  I don’t think he’s over the moon about you.

  Susan I shouldn’t have said that.

  Brock No, it’s just … Darwin thinks disasters are examinations in etiquette. Which fork to use in an earthquake.

  Susan Darwin, is that his name?

  Brock Yes, the mission all thinks it’s God’s joke. God getting his own back by dashing off a modern Darwin who is in every aspect less advanced than the last. (He smiles alone.) I’m sorry. We sit about in the evenings and polish our jokes. Brussels is rather a debilitating town.

  Susan Is this a bad posting for you?

  Brock I’d been hoping for something more positive. Fresher air. The flag still flies over a quarter of the human race and I would like to have seen it really. Whereas here … we’re left with the problems of the war … (He smiles again.) Have you met any prison governors?

  Susan No.

  Brock It’s just they talk exactly like us. I was hoping for Brixton but I got the Scrubs. Just the same.

  Susan Does nobody like it here?

  Brock The misery is contagious, I suppose. You spend the day driving between bombsites, watching the hungry, the homeless, the bereaved. We think there are thirty million people loose in Europe who’ve had to flee across borders, have had to start again. And it is very odd to watch it all from here. (He gestures round the room.) Had you been married long?

  Susan We met during the war.

  Brock I did notice some marks on the body.

  Susan Tony was a wireless operator with SOE. Our job was harassment behind the lines. Very successful in Holland, Denmark. Less so in France. Tony was in a circuit the Gestapo destroyed. Then scattered. Ravensbrück, Buchenwald, Saarbrucken, Dachau. Some were tortured, executed.