Mr Bailey's Minder

by Debra Oswald

  THERESE: Ah. He’s cheered up.

  KARL: I got something else for you, Leo.

  He takes the dropsheet wrapping off the window—a leadlight window with richly-coloured glass.

  Found this in a house they were tearing down. It’ll fit where the smashed one goes. Check it out with the light.

  He props up the window so the light shines through it.

  The pattern’s different but the colours are pretty much the same as the old one, don’t you reckon?

  LEO looks at the window, overcome.

  Leo? You okay?

  LEO: Thank you, Karl. Thank you. The colours are the same, yes. My father had the set of windows made and sent to New Guinea by boat. When you sat in the front parlour in the afternoon, the light would come through the windows and make red and yellow shapes on the white tablecloth.

  LEO goes into a dreamy state staring at the window.

  THERESE: [whispering to KARL] Thank you.

  KARL: Do you want me to help you fit the louvres?

  KARL indicates the timber and glass pieces he brought.

  THERESE: You better. Ta. I wouldn’t have a clue.

  THERESE and KARL head for the bathroom. LEO is still mesmerised by the window.

  LEO: Did you see what Karl brought me?

  THERESE: Yeah. It’s beautiful, Leo.

  LEO: Is it my birthday?

  THERESE: Not yet. Three weeks till your birthday.

  LEO: Three weeks!

  THERESE: I know that seems ages to wait. But don’t worry. I’ll figure out a really special way to celebrate.

  THERESE follows KARL into the bathroom to fix the window.

  LEO stares at the leadlight window, then closes his eyes and sighs, transported. Then, from the bathroom, he hears THERESE laughing and turns to watch her. LEO runs to pick up a biro from one of his hiding places. With all his strength, he yanks at a wall of the house until a chunk of cladding breaks off.

  He positions himself so he can see into the bathroom. He tries to draw on the cladding with the biro. His hand shakes too much and he curses himself. He uses the other hand to steady the wrist of his drawing hand.

  Washed over by the warmly-coloured light from the window, LEO focuses on THERESE. He can hear her laugh every now and then as he draws.

  END OF ACT ONE

  ACT TWO

  SCENE ONE

  Evening. There are balloons and other decorations around the house. Loud upbeat music blasts out of a CD player. THERESE dances, singing along, as she brings out two brightly-wrapped presents.

  There’s a knock on the door. She dances over to open it and then dances back in, beckoning KARL to follow.

  KARL holds out an armload of lining boards as an offering.

  KARL: These are for you.

  THERESE: Hang on. [She dances across to turn the music right down.] Hi!

  KARL: Uh—hi. Lining boards. Thought you could use them to replace the busted ones upstairs.

  THERESE: Thanks. Great. You’re a legend, Karl.

  KARL: You’re in a good mood.

  THERESE: Scary, eh.

  KARL puts another wrapped present beside the other two.

  KARL: Where’s the birthday boy?

  THERESE: [calling upstairs] Leo! Come down! You’re beautiful enough! You were supposed to help me with the chopping!

  LEO appears at the top of the stairs.

  LEO: Hear that, Karl? The harpie’s making me cook my own birthday dinner.

  LEO has spruced himself up, wearing a bow tie and waistcoat. He parades down the stairs. THERESE wolf-whistles.

  THERESE: Worth the wait, baby!

  KARL: Happy birthday, Leo. Looking sharp.

  LEO: I know.

  KARL: Looking fit too.

  LEO: Ooh, yeah. So fit I’m dangerous.

  KARL: Glad to see it.

  LEO: She’s glad to see you. She was talking about you all week. ‘Don’t forget Karl’s coming to your birthday dinner.’

  KARL and THERESE blush, awkward.

  THERESE: Hey, Leo, I thought you were hanging out to tell Karl about the other week.

  LEO: We’ve been having adventures!

  THERESE: Go on. Tell him.

  LEO: I’m a wet-brain. You do it.

  THERESE: Oh. Okay. Well, there was this day Leo and me went to the movies—

  LEO: Forget the movie. Get to the good part.

  THERESE: Okay, Lord Muck. We get out of the movies and we head across town to the Botanical Gardens. It’s lunchtime in the city—

  LEO: People thick on the footpath, pushing and shoving.

  THERESE: So I’m trying to make a little channel for Leo to fit through without getting walloped. Then he suddenly announces—

  LEO: [dancing around] I need to take a leak.

  THERESE: He does that—hangs on like a little kid until he’s absolutely busting.

  LEO: [laughing] Big emergency.

  THERESE: ‘Let’s try in here,’ I say, and we go into the nearest office block. It’s one of those huge buildings with the foyer that’s all granite walls going right up.

  LEO: Like the tomb of the Great Pharaoh.

  THERESE: Makes you feel like a tiny maggot crawling along the bottom. Because it’s lunchtime, all the lifts are running hot.

  LEO: Ding ding ding.

  THERESE: Spewing out these office workers in their suits acting like everything they do is more important than the rest of us but we wouldn’t understand it. In the foyer—

  LEO: Oh, let me tell about the bloke.

  THERESE: Yeah, get this…

  LEO: There’s a concierge.

  THERESE: Sitting at a glass and chrome desk.

  LEO: With a little sign that says ‘concierge’.

  THERESE: Smirk on his face like his shit doesn’t smell.

  LEO roars with laughter, adoring THERESE.

  ‘Excuse me, is there a men’s on this floor?’

  LEO: She said it just like that. Polite.

  THERESE: Mr Concierge looks down at us like we’re some colourful fungus he’d like to hose off the shiny granite floor.

  LEO: [as the concierge] ‘Do you have an appointment in the building?’

  THERESE: ‘In a way, yeah,’ I say, ‘My friend’s bladder has an urgent appointment with your toilet’.

  LEO loves that bit.

  So the guy goes—

  LEO: ‘Look, uh, madame—look, uh—’

  THERESE: Just like that—like I smell bad.

  LEO: Which she didn’t.

  THERESE: I go, ‘No, how about you look, mate—unless you want him to relieve himself all over your shiny floor, I reckon you should point us in the direction of the gents quick smart’.

  LEO: And that’s just what he did. [He pats THERESE.] She was brilliant!

  THERESE: If that wanker knew that he’d just met the famous Leo Bailey, he’d be all over him like a rash.

  LEO: But he just thought it was some old derro!

  THERESE: Some old derro gatecrashing the gents.

  She and LEO share a smile. LEO is wriggling around.

  Do you need to go now? Go.

  LEO: Tell him about the picture.

  THERESE: I’m going to.

  LEO exits to the bathroom.

  KARL: What picture?

  THERESE: Oh, well… After I send Leo off to the gents, I sit down on this black leather couch. Mr Concierge’s giving me the greasy eyeball like I’m going to steal the couch any second. Had a gutful of that, so I swivel round and face the other wall. Whoomp. There it is. This painting. It’s enormous—maybe the size of that whole wall. It’s one of Leo’s—I saw a little section of it on a book cover. But that’s not it. I mean, that’s not why it hits me. The faces in the painting—the faces are just so—beautiful’s not the word. People say ‘beautiful’ but that doesn’t… It’s like there’s a light inside the painting shining directly on me, filling me up, sending an electric charge through my blood into every tiny cell of me. [She stops, embarrassed.] I
know, you reckon that sounds—

  KARL: No, no, I don’t.

  THERESE: Anyway, I’m looking at the painting. I know the snotty concierge is still staring. I can hear the ding ding of the lifts. I can still feel the cold air from the granite walls. But it’s like a parallel universe I can see and hear but real faint. By the time Leo comes back out, I can’t move. ‘I need to sit for a minute, Leo.’ So he sits beside me and looks up at the painting too.

  KARL: Christ—what was going through Leo’s head when he looked at that picture?

  THERESE: I don’t know. Did his own painting blow him away too? Or did he think about what he ate for dinner the day he finished it? Or maybe his brain’s so shot—

  KARL: —he didn’t even remember painting it.

  THERESE: Yeah… But y’know, it doesn’t matter. The picture’s more than him. It’s bigger than all that stuff. The last week, I’ve been making Leo go to art galleries and insurance company foyers with me. I can tell you where every one of Leo’s paintings is in Sydney—the ones people can see without owning them, that is. Leo paints ordinary stuff and ordinary people, but his picture’ll make them look special—make them beautiful and glowing and—But it’s not tizzying things up. It’s like Leo can see the specialness inside a thing so when a person looks at the painting they can see it too.

  KARL smiles to see her so transported. She laughs.

  Shit—yacking on like a lunatic and I’m running late!

  THERESE dashes around, getting ready. LEO comes back in.

  LEO: Therese is going to start a new life.

  THERESE: Don’t you make fun of me, Leo.

  LEO: I’m not. I’m telling Karl. She found a brochure.

  KARL: A brochure on how to start a new life?

  THERESE: No, no. It was one of those pamphlets about adult education courses.

  LEO: It was a sign from God!

  KARL: An adult education brochure was a sign from God?

  LEO: Why was that brochure on the train seat at exactly the right time for Therese to find it? Because it was a sign from God!

  KARL: You never know.

  LEO: You should’ve seen her, Karl—going through that brochure, putting big red circles round things.

  THERESE: Just some courses I’d like to do.

  LEO: History, languages, astronomy, fine art. And she’s had the atlas out.

  THERESE: I was thinking I might go overseas—I mean, when I’ve got some money.

  LEO: Therese’s new life!

  THERESE is embarrassed but exhilarated by the idea.

  Mind you, Karl—Therese’s new life can’t happen until after I’m dead. Dead as a door knob.

  THERESE: Hey—I don’t want any talk like that today. Today’s a good day. Right?

  LEO: Right.

  LEO nudges KARL, winks, and then roars with laughter.

  KARL: I wouldn’t mind getting hold of a brochure on how to start a new life. Made a stuff-up of my old one.

  THERESE: Wasn’t your fault. That bastard friend ripped off your business. You shouldn’t be so surprised that people can act like arseholes.

  KARL: Mum always reckoned when I’d come home from school and some kid had been mean, I’d be confused—baffled—like I couldn’t believe it. I don’t see the nasty streaks in people. It’s like a frequency I can’t hear or a colour I can’t see. So I guess I can’t trust myself to survive out there.

  THERESE: In the big ugly world.

  LEO: I don’t think Karl has a girlfriend, you know.

  THERESE: Leo. Sshh.

  LEO: Bet he doesn’t! Do you?

  KARL: Not anymore.

  LEO: How many wives have you had, Karl?

  KARL: Not as many as you, mate. Just the one.

  LEO: Did she steal all your money, destroy your manhood and then run off with some flash bastard in leather pants?

  KARL: No.

  LEO: Did she accuse you of philandering and selfishness and all manner of crimes you didn’t commit?

  KARL: No. She—uh—left when—Well, in the mess after the business went under, I must’ve been pretty hard to live with. She’s with another guy now. About to have a baby.

  LEO: So he’s single. Available.

  THERESE: Would you shut up! It’s his private business. Anyway, I’m sure Karl can get some really nice woman if he decides—

  KARL: Well, Karl’s prob’ly not much use to anyone so—

  THERESE: See? He doesn’t want a girlfriend.

  KARL: Oh, well… I—

  There’s a knock on the door.

  THERESE: Great.

  LEO: Who’s that?

  THERESE: Surprise for your birthday.

  She opens the door to MARGO.

  Hi. Thanks heaps for coming. Margo’s come to say happy birthday.

  MARGO becomes aware of the decorations and presents.

  MARGO: Oh, I didn’t realise it was going to be quite such a—uh… Happy birthday, Leo.

  LEO nods his acknowledgement warily.

  THERESE: Perfect timing. Dinner’ll be ready soon and we can all go the fang.

  MARGO: [quietly to THERESE] You should have told me the kind of thing you were—I didn’t bring a present or—

  THERESE: Thought you might not come if I made it sound like a big deal. And anyway, you being here today is the fantastic thing. Everybody siddown. I’ll just—uh—

  THERESE rushes off to get drinks. MARGO is surprised to see KARL.

  MARGO: Oh. Hello again.

  KARL: Hello.

  LEO: Karl’s my friend. [To KARL] She doesn’t think I have any friends.

  THERESE: Leo. Give it a rest.

  LEO: Did you clock her face when she walked in here? She couldn’t believe it. [To MARGO] Yes! Yes! Good times with my friends!

  THERESE: Who wants some punch? Non-alcoholic of course. Dinner and then birthday cake.

  She serves everyone punch.

  This is nice, eh. All of us here like this.

  LEO: This is marvellous! Like the old days! People dropping round for a drink!

  KARL: Dinner smells fantastic.

  THERESE: We’re having one of Leo’s favourites.

  LEO: From my own recipe collection.

  THERESE: [to MARGO] Oh—you probably ate stuff like this when you were a little kid in Greece. You were so lucky to get to live in Greece and Spain and all those other places. Was it really fantastic?

  MARGO: Kids don’t want to be dragged around the world because their father has a whim to paint in different light conditions. Kids want to stay in one place and go to the same set of swings every day.

  LEO mutters and laughs to himself. THERESE shooshes him.

  KARL: Anyway, it smells fantastic, Therese.

  MARGO: Yes. Delicious.

  THERESE: I could never cook to save myself before. But then the other week, we found this envelope full of recipes and Leo’s been teaching me to cook.

  LEO hoots a laugh.

  KARL: What?

  THERESE: He isn’t teaching me in the regular way. I do my best following the recipe on my own and if I get it wrong—

  LEO makes a retching noise and mimes spitting out the food.

  He spits the food out. Deadset.

  LEO: Good incentive for her to get it right the next time.

  THERESE: That’s his teaching method. [To MARGO] Did Leo teach you to cook when you were a little kid?

  MARGO: No.

  LEO: When do I get my presents?

  THERESE: Oh yeah, presents. I guess we can open them before we eat.

  THERESE fetches the parcels.

  KARL: Open mine first, Leo.

  LEO tears the paper off Karl’s present. It’s a letterbox made from pieces of New Guinea carved timber.

  LEO: Therese, we need a new letterbox, don’t we!

  KARL: I made it out of the bits of that smashed-up table.

  LEO: Thank you, Karl. You always know exactly what I need. [To MARGO] Karl has the gift of kindness, you know.

 
THERESE: Well, he’s always been very kind to us. It’s beautiful. You’re very clever, Karl.

  LEO: What’s this one?

  LEO grabs a rectangular parcel, prettily wrapped.

  THERESE: I don’t know. It got brought by courier this morning.

  THERESE opens the attached note while LEO struggles to get the ribbons off like a greedy kid.

  LEO: [boasting to MARGO] You see? Old friends remembering my birthday. Dropping off presents. I still have a rich and full life, you know.

  THERESE: It just says ‘Ole’ on the front. Maybe someone sent it from Spain.

  LEO: Could be. Barcelona. New York. Paris. I’ve got friends all over the world!

  THERESE: ‘Happy birthday, Leo. Best, Gavin.’ Oh, Gavin… he’s that guy who—

  LEO unwraps a box with a bottle of tequila inside. THERESE quickly gets it off him.

  Well, it was nice of Gavin to think of you but this stuff’s not the go for us anymore, eh.

  She runs to put the bottle in the kitchen and points out the remaining parcel to distract him.

  Hey, you haven’t opened my one.

  LEO holds the large, square present.

  LEO: What is it?

  THERESE: I couldn’t spend up big on you, like I would’ve liked, so I—Well, open it.

  LEO opens it—it’s a large album.

  I bought the album at the art gallery shop while you were busy earbashing some poor lady about Whiteley.

  LEO: Sneaky.

  THERESE: Then I went through those boxes of junk upstairs and fished out photos of the kids and holidays and special events. Check out—there’s a section that shows this house being built. [She leans across to flick to that part.] You can see that wall going up. And the kids are little in some of the shots.

  LEO looks through the album.

  Do you like it?

  KARL: It’s wonderful.

  MARGO: My God, I haven’t seen any of these photos for years.