(To ALAN.) Take it for me, old boy. I can’t hear a word the girl’s saying.
ALAN comes and takes it.
ALAN. Hullo, Oui, il ne comprend pas . . . Bien. Je le lui demanderai.
(To BRIAN.) Can you see her tonight at the Casino? She wants you to meet her sister.
BRIAN. Ask her if it’s the same one I met on Tuesday.
ALAN. (In phone.) Il voudrait savoir s’il a déjà rencontré votre soeur . . . Bon. (To BRIAN.) She says it’s a different one.
BRIAN. Tell her it’s O.K. I’ll be there.
ALAN. (In phone.) Il dit qu’il sera enchanté . . . Oui . . . au revoir. (He rings off.)
BRIAN. I told that damn woman not to ring up here. (MAINGOT enters from window.)
MAINGOT. Alors. Qui est ce qui vient de téléphoner?
BRIAN. (Apologetically.) C’était quelqu’un pour moi, Monsieur.
MAINGOT. Pour vous?
BRIAN. Oui, une fille que je connais dans la ville.
MAINGOT. Une fille. (He bursts into a stentorian roar of laughter and goes back into the garden.) Une fille qu’il connait! Ho! Ho!
BRIAN. Now what’s bitten him?
ALAN. A fille doesn’t mean a girl, Brian.
BRIAN. It says so in my dictionary. What does it mean, then?
ALAN. A tart.
BRIAN. Oh! (He considers a second.) Well, I hate to have to say it, old boy, but having a strict regard for the truth that’s a fairly neat little description of Chi-Chi. See you two at lunch time.
He goes out.
ALAN. There in a nutshell you have the reason for Brian’s immunity to the charms of Diana Lake.
ROGERS. (Icily.) Really?
ALAN. (Easily.) Yes. (Pause. He takes a cigarette.) This place is going to be rather a change for you after your boat, isn’t it?
ROGERS. (Stung.) You mean my ship, don’t you?
ALAN. Oh, is there a difference?
ROGERS. There is.
ALAN. Of course. It’s a grave social error to say boat for ship, isn’t it? Like mentioning a lady’s name before the royal toast or talking about Harrow College.
ROGERS. Yes, that would be very wrong.
DIANA LAKE comes in from the garden. She is in a bathing wrap which she wears open, disclosing a bathing dress underneath. She is about twenty, very lovely.
DIANA. Good morning. (She stops at the sight of ROGERS, and decorously pulls her wrap more closely about her.)
ROGERS and ALAN get up.
ALAN. Good morning, Diana. I don’t think you’ve met Commander Rogers.
DIANA comes forward and shakes hands.
DIANA. How do you do?
ROGERS. How do you do?
DIANA. (To ROGERS.) I didn’t know you’d – you must have arrived last night, I suppose?
ALAN. Don’t you remember? You asked me what train he was coming by.
DIANA comes round the table; kisses him on the top of his head.
DIANA. Do sit down, Commander Rogers. (He sits.) How are you this morning, Alan?
ALAN. (Feeling her bathing dress.) I’ll bet you didn’t go in the water.
DIANA. Yes, I did.
ALAN. Right in?
DIANA. Yes, right in. Ask Kit.
ALAN. (Really surprised.) Kit? You don’t mean to say that you got Kit to go bathing with you?
DIANA. Yes, I did. He’s fetching my towel. I left it behind.
ALAN. God! you women.
DIANA. What?
ALAN. Without the slightest qualm and just to gratify a passing whim, you force a high-souled young man to shatter one of his most sacred principles.
ROGERS. What principle is that, if I might ask?
DIANA. (Emphatically.) Never, under any circumstances, to do anything hearty.
ROGERS. (Challengingly.) Personally, I rather like an early morning dip.
ALAN. (As if the words burnt his mouth.) An – early – morning – dip?
ROGERS. Certainly. That’s hearty, I suppose.
ALAN. Well –
DIANA. I quite agree with you, Commander Rogers. I don’t think there’s anything nicer than a swim before breakfast. Ashtray? (Hands it to ROGERS.)
ALAN. You’d like anything that gave you a chance to come down to breakfast in a bathing dress.
DIANA. Does it shock you, Alan?
ALAN. Unutterably.
DIANA. I’ll go and dress then.
ALAN. No. There’s no point in that. You’ve made one successful entrance. Don’t spoil it by making another.
ROGERS. I don’t think I quite understand you.
ALAN. Diana does, don’t you, angel?
DIANA. (Sweetly.) Has another publisher refused your novel, Alan?
ALAN, momentarily disconcerted, can find nothing to say. Pause.
Enter KIT through the French window. He is about twenty-two, fair and good-looking. He wears a dressing-gown over his bathing dress, and carries two towels over his arm.
KIT. (Sullenly.) Morning.
ALAN. (In gentle reproof.) Well, well, well.
KIT. (Shamefacedly.) Well, why not?
ALAN shakes his head sadly.
ALAN. I don’t think you’ve met Commander Rogers.
KIT. (Shaking hands.) How do you do? I heard you were coming. (He begins to dry his hair on a towel, throwing the other one to DIANA.)
ALAN. Did Diana go in the water?
KIT. No.
DIANA. Kit, you dirty liar.
KIT. I’ve done enough for you already this morning I’m not going to perjure myself as well. (He sits down gloomily and pours himself out a cup of coffee.) I had hoped you wouldn’t be here, Alan, to witness my shame.
ALAN. You of all people an early morning dipper.
KIT. (Shuddering.) Don’t put it like that. You make it sound worse than it is. Say a nine o’clock bather. Oh, hell, this coffee’s cold. Marianne!
ALAN. Mere toying with words can’t hide the truth. Do you know I think that girl could make you go for a bicycle tour in the Pyrenees if she set her mind to it.
KIT. She could you know, Alan, that’s the awful thing.
Slight pause.
ROGERS. I once went for a bicycle tour in the Pyrenees.
ALAN. Really?
KIT splutters into his coffee simultaneously.
JACQUELINE comes out of the kitchen. She is about twenty-five or twenty-six, not unattractive, but nothing in looks to compare with DIANA. She wears an apron and has a handkerchief tied over her hair.
JACQUELINE. Marianne’s upstairs. Do you want anything? (She speaks with only the barest trace of accent.)
KIT. Hello, Jack.
ALAN. Good morning, darling.
JACQUELINE. (Going to ROGERS.) How do you do, Commander Rogers. I’m so glad you could come to us.
ROGERS. (Shaking hands.) Er – how do you do?
JACQUELINE. I hope you’ve found everything you want.
ROGERS. Yes, thank you.
JACQUELINE. Did Marianne ask you if you wanted eggs for breakfast?
ROGERS. I don’t want any, thanks.
JACQUELINE. I see. Well, don’t worry about asking for anything you need. By the way, do you drink beer at meals or do you prefer wine?
ROGERS. (Sitting.) Beer, please. Nothing like a can of beer.
ALAN. No, I suppose there isn’t.
JACQUELINE. (To KIT.) What were you shouting about, by the way?
KIT. Jack, darling, the coffee’s cold.
JACQUELINE. Of course it’s cold. You’re half an hour late for breakfast.
KIT. Yes, but . . .
JACQUELINE. You can’t have any more because Marianne’s doing the rooms.
KIT. I thought perhaps, Jack, darling, knowing how much you love me, you might be an angel and do something about it.
JACQUELINE. Certainly not. It’s against all the rules of the house. Besides, you’d better go and get dressed. I’m giving you a lesson in five minutes.
KIT. In the near future, when I am Minister of Foreign Affairs
, this incident will play a large part in my decision to declare war on France.
JACQUELINE pushes him back into his chair and grabs the coffee-pot.
JACQUELINE. Ooh! This is the last time I’m going to do this for you.
She goes back into the kitchen.
KIT. (To DIANA.) You see what a superb diplomat I should make.
ALAN. Rather the Palmerston tradition, wasn’t it?
ROGERS. Was that Maingot’s daughter?
KIT. Yes. Her name’s Jacqueline.
ROGERS. Jacqueline? (Brightly.) I see. That’s why you call her Jack.
KIT. (Looking at him distastefully.) Yes, that’s why we call her Jack.
ROGERS. She speaks English very well.
KIT. She’s been in England half her life. I believe she’s going to be an English school-marm. You’ll like her. She’s amusing. (He continues to dry himself.) Hell! I still feel wet.
He glares at DIANA who comes behind his chair and dries his hair with her own towel.
DIANA. You’ve got such lovely hair, darling. That’s why it takes so long to dry.
KIT. (To ALAN.) You know, Alan, this is a nice girl.
ALAN. (Tilting his chair back and gazing at DIANA.) Yes, she’s nice. She’s good, too.
ROGERS gets up.
ROGERS. Well, I must go upstairs. I want to get my room shipshape.
ALAN. And above board?
ROGERS. (Turning savagely on ALAN.) Yes, and above board. Any objection?
ALAN. (Airily.) No, no objection at all. Make it as above board as you like.
ROGERS. (Bowing stiffly.) Thank you. I’m most grateful.
Exit ROGERS.
ALAN. (Pensively.) Do you know, I don’t think he likes me.
KIT. Who does? I’m the only one who can stand you and then only in small doses.
DIANA. Kenneth adores you, anyway. He’s quite silly the way he tries to imitate you.
ALAN. Your brother shows remarkable acumen sometimes.
DIANA. And then, of course, I adore you too. You know that.
KIT swings his chair round and pulls her roughly down on to his knee.
KIT. Hey! I’m not going to have you adoring anybody except me. Do you understand? (He kisses her.)
DIANA. Darling, you’re not jealous of Alan, are you?
KIT. I’m jealous of anyone you even look at.
DIANA. All right, then in future I won’t look at anyone except you.
KIT. That’s a promise?
DIANA. That’s a promise.
ALAN, still leaning back in his chair, whistles a tune softly.
(Feeling KIT’s hands.) Darling, you are cold.
KIT. Yes, I know. I think I’ll go and dress and not wait for the coffee. (He gets up.) You’ve probably given me pneumonia. But I don’t mind. You could tear me up in little pieces and trample on them, and I’d still love you.
DIANA. Sweet little thing. Take these things upstairs, darling, will you? (Gives him towels.)
KIT goes out.
ALAN. That’s no reason why you should, you know.
DIANA. Should what?
ALAN. Tear him up in little pieces and trample on them.
DIANA crosses over to the window where she stands, looking out.
So you’re not going to look at anyone except Kit.
DIANA doesn’t answer. ALAN gets up and walks over to the window. He puts his arm round her waist and his cheek against her.
(After a pause.) This doesn’t mean I’m falling for you.
DIANA. (Gently.) Doesn’t it, Alan?
ALAN. No, it doesn’t.
He walks over to the armchair and sits.
DIANA. I am disappointed.
ALAN. What do you think of the Commander?
DIANA. I think he’s quite nice.
ALAN. Yes. (Gently.) Yes. I want to tell you, it’s no good starting anything with him.
DIANA. Don’t be silly, Alan.
ALAN. It really isn’t any good, darling, because you see I’ve warned him against you.
DIANA. You warned him? (Coming to ALAN.) What did you say?
ALAN. I told him what you are.
DIANA. (Quietly.) What’s that?
ALAN. Don’t you know?
DIANA. Alan, much as I like you there are times when I could cheerfully strangle you.
ALAN. Is this one of them, darling?
DIANA. Yes, ducky, it is.
ALAN. Good, that’s just what I hoped.
DIANA. This is rather a new rôle for you, isn’t it, playing wet nurse to the Navy?
ALAN. You don’t think it suits me?
DIANA. No, darling, I’m afraid I don’t. What are you doing it for?
ALAN. It’s not because I’m fond of the Commander. As a matter of fact it would rather amuse me to see you play hell with the Commander. But I do like Kit, that’s why. So no hanky-panky with the Navy or . . .
DIANA. Or what?
ALAN. Or I shall have to be rather beastly to you, darling, and you know you wouldn’t like that.
DIANA. You don’t understand me at all, Alan.
ALAN. I understand every little bit of you, Diana, through and through. That’s why we get along so well together.
DIANA. (Tearfully.) I ought to hate you.
ALAN. Well, go on trying, darling, and you may succeed. (He kisses her on the back of the neck.) I’ve got to go and finish some stuff for Maingot. See you at lunch time. (He goes to the door.)
DIANA. Alan?
ALAN. (Turning at door.) Yes?
DIANA. What do you mean by hanky-panky?
ALAN. I should tell you.
He goes out.
DIANA kicks petulantly at the window. She goes to the table, opens her handbag, takes out a small mirror and looks at herself.
Enter JACQUELINE from the kitchen with the coffee-pot.
DIANA. Oh, thank you so much.
JACQUELINE. Where’s Kit?
DIANA. He’s gone up to dress. He felt cold.
JACQUELINE. Isn’t that like him. Well, you can tell him that I’m not going to make him any more coffee however loud he screams.
DIANA. Yes, I’ll tell him, and I think you’re quite right.
Enter ROGERS through the door at the back.
ROGERS. (Nervously.) Oh, hullo.
JACQUELINE goes out into the kitchen.
DIANA. (Brightly.) Hullo, Commander Rogers.
ROGERS goes over to the bookcase at the back.
Looking for something?
ROGERS. Yes, Maingot’s Phrase Book, as a matter of fact. (He bends down and pulls a book out.) Here it is, I think. (He looks at the title.) No, it isn’t.
DIANA. Let me help you. I think I know where it is.
ROGERS. Oh, that’s very good of you.
DIANA bends down at the bookcase and pulls a book out.
DIANA. Here. (She hands it to him.)
ROGERS. Oh, thanks most awfully.
DIANA. (Going back to the table.) Well, what are your first impressions of Monsieur Maingot’s establishment?
ROGERS. Oh, I – er – think it ought to be very cheery here.
DIANA. I’m sure you’ll love it.
ROGERS. Yes, I’m sure I will.
DIANA. The boys are so nice, don’t you think?
ROGERS. Er – yes, I think they are – some of them. (He makes a tentative move towards the door.)
DIANA. (Quickly.) I suppose you find Alan a bit startling, don’t you?
ROGERS. Alan?
DIANA. The one with the German coat.
ROGERS. Oh, yes. Yes, he is a bit startling. Well, I ought to be getting along.
DIANA. Why? You’ve got your room pretty well shipshape by now, haven’t you?
ROGERS. Oh, thanks, yes, I have.
DIANA. Well, don’t go for a bit. Stay and talk to me while I have my coffee. Have you got a cigarette?
ROGERS. (Coming to her.) Yes, I have. (Offers her one.)
DIANA. (Takes one.) Thanks. I was saying about Alan –
<
br /> ROGERS. Match?
DIANA. Thanks. (He lights it.) What was I saying?
ROGERS. About Alan.
DIANA. Oh, yes, about Alan – he’s really very nice but you mustn’t take everything he says seriously.
ROGERS. Oh. Oh, I see. No, I won’t.
DIANA. He’s just the tiniest bit – you know (She taps her forehead significantly.) unbalanced.
ROGERS. Oh, really.
DIANA. I thought it as well to warn you.
ROGERS. Yes. Thank you very much.
DIANA. Otherwise it might lead to trouble.
ROGERS. Yes, it might.
Pause.
DIANA. Poor Alan. I’m afraid he’s got it very badly.
ROGERS. Er – got what?
DIANA. Well – (She leans back and blows a puff of smoke into the air.) Of course I oughtn’t to say it. (Pause. She throws him a quick glance to see if he has caught her meaning. Evidently he hasn’t.)
ROGERS. Oh.
DIANA. I’m awfully sorry for him of course.
ROGERS. (Puzzled, but polite.) Of course.
DIANA. It’s so funny, because from the way he behaves to me and the things he says about me, you’d think he hated me, wouldn’t you?
ROGERS. Yes, you would. (Pause.) Doesn’t he?
DIANA. (Laughing.) No. Oh no. Far from it.
ROGERS. (The light of understanding in his face at last.) Oh, I see. You mean he’s rather keen on you?
DIANA. I mustn’t give him away. It wouldn’t be fair. But if he ever talks to you about me, as he probably will, and tries to give you the impression that I’m a (smiling) scheming wrecker of men’s lives, you needn’t necessarily believe him.
ROGERS. No – no, I won’t, of course. But I don’t see why he should, you know.
DIANA. (Embarrassedly.) Well, you see, Commander Rogers, I like Alan, but I don’t like him as much as perhaps he wants me to, and I suppose that makes him feel rather embittered.
ROGERS. Ah, yes. I see.
DIANA. (Gaily.) Well, don’t let’s talk any more about it, because it’s not a very pleasant subject. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about the Navy. I’m always thrilled to death by anything to do with the sea.
ROGERS. Really, that’s splendid.
Pause.
DIANA. It must be a wonderful life.
ROGERS. Yes, it’s a pretty good life on the whole.
DIANA. Marvellously interesting, I should think.
ROGERS. Yes, pretty interesting.
DIANA. I bet you’ve had any amount of wildly exciting experiences.
ROGERS. Oh, well, you know, things have a way of happening in the Navy.
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