David Hare Plays 1

by David Hare

  Brock I don’t think that’s really on.

  Susan Nobody would notice, from what you say. Nobody would notice if you smoked it yourself.

  Alice Are they not very sharp?

  Susan Not according to Raymond. The ones I’ve met are buffoons …

  Brock Susan, please …

  Susan Well it’s you who call them buffoons.

  Brock It’s not quite what I say.

  Susan It’s you who tells the stories. That man Darwin …

  Brock Please …

  Susan How he needs three young men from public schools to strap him into his surgical support.

  Brock I told you that in confidence.

  Susan In gloves.

  Alice Really?

  Brock Darwin is not a buffoon.

  Susan From your own lips …

  Brock He just has slight problems of adjustment to the modern age.

  Susan You are laughing.

  Brock I am not laughing.

  Susan There is a slight smile at the corner of your mouth …

  Brock There is not. There is absolutely no smile.

  Susan Alice, I will paraphrase, let me paraphrase Raymond’s view of his boss. I don’t misrepresent you, dear, it is, in paraphrase, in sum, that he would not trust him to stick his prick into a bucket of lard.

  Brock puts his omelette to one side, uneaten.

  Well, is he a joke or is he not?

  Brock Certainly he’s a joke.

  Susan Thank you.

  Brock He’s a joke between us. He is not a joke to the entire world.

  A pause. Brock looks at Alice. Then he gets up.

  I think I’d better be pushing off home.

  Brock goes and gets his coat. Puts it on. Susan at last speaks, very quietly.

  Susan And I wish you wouldn’t use those words.

  Brock What?

  Susan Words like ‘push off home’. You’re always saying it. ‘Bit of a tight corner’, ‘one hell of a spot’. They don’t belong.

  Brock What do you mean?

  Susan They are not your words.

  Pause.

  Brock Well, I’m none too keen on your words either.

  Susan Oh yes, which?

  Brock The words you’ve been using this evening.

  Susan Such as?

  Brock You know perfectly well.

  Susan Such as, come on tell me, what words have I used?

  Brock Words like …

  Pause.

  Bucket of lard.

  Pause.

  Susan Alice, there is only the bath or the kitchen.

  Alice I know.

  Alice goes out. Susan automatically picks up the omelette and starts to eat it.

  Brock Are you going to let her live with you?

  Susan I like her. She makes me laugh.

  Pause.

  Brock I’m sorry, I was awful, I apologize. But the work I do is not entirely contemptible. Of course our people are dull, they’re stuffy, they’re death. But what other world do I have?

  Pause.

  Susan I think of France more than I tell you. I was seventeen and I was thrown into the war. I often think of it.

  Brock I’m sure.

  Susan The most unlikely people. People I met only for an hour or two. Astonishing kindnesses. Bravery. The fact you could meet someone for an hour or two and see the very best of them and then move on. Can you understand?

  Pause. Brock does not move.

  For instance, there was a man in France. His code name was Lazar. I’d been there a year I suppose and one night I had to see him on his way. He just dropped out of the sky. An agent. He was lost. I was trying to be blasé, trying to be tough, all the usual stuff – irony, hardness, cleverness, wit – and then suddenly I began to cry. On to the shoulder of a man I’d never met before. But not a day goes by without my wondering where he is.

  Susan finishes her omelette and puts the plate aside. Brock moves towards her.

  Brock Susan.

  Susan I think we should try a winter apart. I really do. I think it’s all a bit easy this way. These weekends. Nothing is tested. I think a test would be good. Then we would know. And what better test than a winter apart?

  Brock A winter together.

  Pause. They smile.

  Susan I would love to come to Brussels, you know that. I would love to come if it weren’t for my job. But the shipping office is very important to me, I do find it fulfilling. And I just couldn’t let Mr Medlicott down.

  Pause.

  You must say what you think.

  Brock looks at Susan hard, then shrugs and smiles.

  I know you’ve been dreading the winter crossings, high seas …

  Brock Don’t patronize me, Susan.

  Susan Anyway, perhaps in the spring, it would be really nice to meet …

  Brock Please don’t insult my intelligence. I know you better than you think. I recognize the signs. When you talk longingly about the war … some deception usually follows.

  Brock kisses Susan.

  Goodbye.

  Brock goes out. Susan left standing for a few moments. Then she picks up the plate and goes quickly to the kitchen. Alice comes out of the bathroom at once in a dressing-gown. She has a notebook in her hand which she tosses the length of the room, so it lands on a chair. She settles on her back in the camp bed. Susan reappears at the door.

  Susan Did you hear that?

  Alice Certainly. I was writing it down.

  Susan looks across at her, but Alice is putting pennies on her eyes.

  My death-mask.

  Susan Don’t.

  Alice I dream better.

  Pause.

  Susan Do you know what you’re doing tomorrow?

  Alice Not really. There’s a new jazz band at the One-O-One. And Ken wants to take me to Eel Pie Island in his horrid little car. I say I’ll go if I get to meet Alistair. I really do want to meet Alistair. Everyone says he’s got hair on his shoulder-blades and apparently he can crack walnuts in his armpits.

  Susan Oh well, he’ll never be short of friends.

  Alice Quite.

  Susan turns out one light. Dim light only. She looks at the parcel.

  Susan What should I be doing with this?

  Alice If we can’t eat it, let’s throw it away.

  Susan turns out the other light. Darkness. The sound of Susan getting into bed.

  Your friend Brock says we’re all going to be rich.

  Susan Oh really?

  Pause.

  Alice Peace and plenty.

  SCENE FIVE

  Temple. May 1951.

  Music, a cello leading. The Embankment, beside a lamp, overlooking the river.

  Night. Susan stands, thickly wrapped. For the first time, she is expensively dressed. She is eating hot chestnuts. Mick appears at the back. He is from the East End. He looks twenty, smart and personable. He speaks before she knows he’s there.

  Mick Five hundred cheese-graters.

  Susan Oh no.

  Mick I got five hundred cheese-graters parked round the side. Are you interested?

  Susan I’m afraid you’re too late. We took a consignment weeks ago.

  Susan laughs. Mick moves down beside her.

  Mick Where we looking?

  Susan Across the river. Over there.

  Mick Where?

  Susan South Bank. That’s where the fireworks are going to be. And there’s my barrage balloon.

  Mick Oh yeah. What does it say?

  Susan Don’t say that, that’s the worst thing you can say.

  Mick It’s dark.

  Susan It says ‘Bovril’.

  Mick Oh, Bovril.

  Susan Yes. It’s meant to blaze out over London.

  Mick Surprised it hasn’t got your name on.

  Susan What do you mean?

  Mick Everywhere I go.

  Pause. They look at each other. Susan smiles and removes a napkin from her coat pocket, and unfolds its bundle.

 
Susan I managed to steal some supper from the Festival Hall. There’s a reception for its opening night. They’re using your cutlery, I’m happy to say.

  Mick I wish I could see it.

  Susan Yes, yes, I wish you could too. (She smiles.) I’ve actually decided to leave the Festival now. Having worked so hard to get the wretched thing on. I’m thinking of going into advertising.

  Mick Ah very good.

  Susan I met some people on the Bovril side. It’s … well I doubt if it’ll stretch me, but it would be a way of having some fun. (Pause.) Would you like a canapé?

  Mick How’s Alice?

  Susan She’s very well.

  Mick Haven’t seen her lately.

  Susan No.

  Mick She went mainstream you see. I stayed revivalist. Different religion. For me it all stops in 1919.

  He takes a canapé.

  So how can I help?

  Susan I’m looking for a father. I want to have a child.

  Pause.

  Look, it really is much easier than it sounds. I mean, marriage is not involved. Or even looking after it. You don’t even have to see the pregnancy through. I mean, conception will be the end of the job.

  Mick smiles.

  Mick Ah.

  Susan You don’t want to?

  Mick No, no, I’m delighted, I’m lucky to be asked.

  Susan Not at all.

  Mick But it’s just … your own people. I mean friends, you must have friends.

  Susan It’s …

  Mick I mean …

  Susan Sorry.

  Mick No, go on, say.

  Susan The men I know at work, at the Festival, or even friends I’ve known for years, they just aren’t the kind of people I would want to marry.

  Mick Ah.

  Susan I’m afraid I’m rather strong-minded, as you know, and so with them I usually feel I’m holding myself in for fear of literally blowing them out of the room. They are kind, they are able, but I don’t see … why I should have to compromise, why I should have to make some sad and decorous marriage just to have a child. I don’t see why any woman should have to do that.

  Mick But you don’t have to marry …

  Susan Ah well …

  Mick Just go off with them.

  Susan But that’s really the problem. These same men, these kind and likeable men, they do have another side to their nature and that is they are very limited in their ideas, they are frightened of the unknown, they want a quiet life where sex is either sport or duty but absolutely nothing in between, and they simply would not agree to sleep with me if they knew it was a child I was after.

  Mick But you wouldn’t have to tell them.

  Susan I did think that. But then I thought it would be dishonest. And so I had the idea of asking a person whom I barely knew.

  Pause.

  Mick What about the kid?

  Susan What?

  Mick Doesn’t sound a very good deal. Never to see his dad …

  Susan It’s not …

  Mick I take it that is what you mean.

  Susan I think it’s what I mean.

  Mick Well?

  Susan The child will manage.

  Mick How do you know?

  Susan Being a bastard won’t always be so bad.

  Mick I wouldn’t bet on it.

  Susan England can’t be like this for ever.

  Mick looks at her.

  Mick I would like to know …

  Susan Yes?

  Mick Why you chose me. I mean, how often have you met me?

  Susan Yes, but that’s the whole point ….

  Mick With Alice a few times …

  Susan And you sold me some spoons.

  Mick They were good spoons.

  Susan I’m not denying it.

  Mick smiles.

  Mick And Alice says what? That I’m clean and obedient and don’t have any cretins in the family?

  Susan It’s not as calculated as that.

  Mick Not calculated? Several hundred of us, was there, all got notes …

  Susan No.

  Mick … saying come and watch the Festival fireworks, tell no one, bring no friends. All the secrecy, I thought you must at least be after nylons …

  Susan I’ll buy nylons. If that’s what you want.

  They stare at each other.

  Mick So why me?

  Susan I like you.

  Mick And.

  Susan ‘I love you’?

  Pause.

  I chose you because … I don’t see you very much. I barely ever see you. We live at opposite ends of town. Different worlds.

  Mick Different class.

  Susan That comes into it.

  There is a pause. Mick looks at her. Then moves away. Turns back. Smiles.

  Mick Oh dear.

  Susan Then laugh.

  Pause.

  I never met the man I wanted to marry.

  They smile.

  Mick It can’t be what you want. Not deep down.

  Susan No.

  Mick I didn’t think so.

  Susan Deep down I’d do the whole damn thing by myself.

  But there we are. You’re second-best.

  They smile again.

  Mick Five hundred cheese-graters.

  Susan How much?

  Mick Something over the odds. A bit over the odds. Not much.

  Susan Done.

  Pause.

  Don’t worry. The Festival will pay.

  Susan moves across to Mick. They kiss. They look at each other. He smiles. Then they turn and look at the night. He is barely audible.

  Mick Fireworks. If you …

  Susan What?

  Mick Stay for the fireworks.

  Susan If you like.

  Pause.

  Mick Great sky.

  Susan Yes.

  Mick The light. Those dots.

  Susan A mackerel sky.

  Mick What?

  Susan That’s what they call it. A mackerel sky.

  SCENE SIX

  Pimlico. December 1952.

  From the dark the sound of Charlie Parker and his saxophone.

  Night. The bed-sitting room transformed. The beds have gone and the room is much more comfortable. Three people. Susan is working at her desk which is covered with papers and drawings. Alice is standing over a table which has been cleared so that she may paint the naked body of Louise who lies stretched across its top. She is in her late teens, from Liverpool. Alice is a good way on with the job. The record ends.

  Susan This is hell.

  Alice No doubt.

  Susan I am living in hell.

  Susan sits back and stares at her desk. Alice goes to the record player.

  Alice Shall we hear it again?

  Susan You’re only allowed it once. Hear it too much and you get out of hand.

  Alice It’s true. (She turns it off and returns to painting.) I’d give that up if I were you. We have to go pretty soon.

  Susan Why do I lie?

  Alice We have to get there by midnight.

  Susan What do I do it for?

  Alice It’s your profession.

  Susan That’s what’s wrong. In France …

  Alice Ah France.

  Susan I told such glittering lies. But where’s the fun in lying for a living?

  Alice What’s today’s?

  Susan Some leaking footwear. Some rotten shoe I have to advertise. What is the point? Why do I exist?

  Alice Sold out.

  Susan Sold out. Is that the phrase?

  Pause. Alice paints. Susan stares.

  Alice Turn over, let me do the other side.

  Louise moves on to her stomach.

  Susan To produce what my masters call good copy, it is simply a question of pitching my intelligence low enough. Shutting my eyes and imagining what it’s like to be very, very stupid. This is all the future holds for any of us. We will spend the next twenty years of our lives pretending to be thick. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Traherne, we’d
like to employ you, but unfortunately you are not stupid enough.’

  Susan tears up the work she is doing and sits back glaring. Alice explains to Louise.

  Alice You’re all trunk up to here, OK?

  Louise Yeah, right.

  Alice The trunk is all one, so you just have to keep your legs together. Then you break into leaf, just above the bust.

  Louise Do I get conkers?

  Alice No. If you were a chestnut, you’d get conkers. But you’re an oak.

  Louise What does an oak have?

  Alice An oak has acorns.

  Louise Acorns?

  Alice But you won’t need them, I promise. We scorn gimmicks. We will win as we are.

  Susan (to herself) The last night of the year …

  Alice And I will sell a great many paintings.

  Pause. Alice paints.

  Louise is staying with Emma and Willy …

  Susan Oh yes?

  Louise I met them in the street, I’d just left home, come down the A6.

  Susan Good for you.

  Louise I couldn’t believe my luck.

  Alice Willy’s going as a kipper, I do know that. And Emma’s a prostitute though how we’re meant to know it’s fancy dress I really can’t think.

  Louise I’ve gathered that.

  Alice Otherwise I expect the usual historical riff-raff. Henry VIII, that sort of thing. We ought to walk it with a naked oak.

  Louise Will that friend of yours be there?

  A moment. Susan looks across at Alice and Louise.

  Alice No. He’ll be tucked up with his syphilitic wife.

  Louise Why doesn’t he …?

  Susan Shut up, Louise.

  Alice It’s all right. Ask what you want.

  Pause.

  Louise How do you know she’s syphilitic?

  Alice How do you think? She passed it down the line.

  Louise Oh God.

  Alice Or somebody passed it and I’ve decided to blame her. It seems right somehow. She’s a very plausible incubator for a social disease. Back over.

  Louise turns again.

  Louise Why doesn’t he leave?

  Alice Who?

  Louise Your friend.

  Alice Ah well, if they ever did leave their wives, perhaps the whole sport would die. For all of us.

  Susan Roll on 1953.

  Alice smiles and resumes painting.

  Alice Actually the clinic say it’s non-specific urethritis, which I find rather insulting. I did at least expect the doctor to come out and apologize and say, I’m sorry not to be more specific about your urethritis, but no, they just leave you in the air.