KEDGE For he’s a jolly good fellow –
KING Wait! Very glad for your enthusiasm, Mr Kedge. Your heart, I am quite sure, is in the right place.
General laughter.
ALBERT, EILEEN, JOYCE, SEELEY and GIDNEY stand in a group around MR RYAN’s chair.
But please allow me to toast Mr Ryan first and then the floor is yours. Well, as I was saying, the whole department is here tonight to pay tribute to a man who from time immemorial has become, how shall I put it, the very core of our litde community. I remember Mr Ryan sitting at his very own desk the first time my father brought me into the office –
A sharp scream and stiffening from EILEEN. All turn to her.
Good heavens!
GIDNEY What is it?
AD LIB What’s happened? Eileen, what’s the matter?
EILEEN Someone touched me!
JOYCE Touched you?
EILEEN Someone touched me! Someone –!
BETTY What did he do?
KEDGE Touched you? What did he do?
JOYCE What did he do, Eileen?
EILEEN He … he … he took a liberty!
KEDGE Go on! Who did?
EILEEN turns and stares at ALBERT. Silence. All stare at ALBERT.
ALBERT What are you looking at me for?
GIDNEY (muttering) Good God …
Tense, embarrassed pause.
HORNE (at the door, whispering) What did he do, touch her?
BARROW (open-mouthed) Yes.
HORNE (wide-eyed) Where?
They look at each other, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.
ALBERT What are you looking at me for?
KING Please, now … can we possibly … I mean …
EILEEN (in a voice of reproach, indignation and horror) Albert!
ALBERT What do you mean?
SEELEY How does she know it was Albert?
KEDGE Wonder what he did. Made her jump didn’t he?
ALBERT Now look, wait a minute, this is absolutely ridiculous –
GIDNEY Ridiculous, eh? I’ll say it is. What do you think you’re up to?
EILEEN Yes, I was just standing there, suddenly this hand …
JOYCE I could tell he was that sort.
The camera closes on MR RYAN’s hand, resting comfortably on his knee, and then to his face which, smiling vaguely, is inclined to the ceiling. It must be quite clear from the expression that it was his hand which strayed.
GIDNEY Come out here, Albert.
ALBERT Don’t pull me. What are you doing?
SEELEY How do you know it was him?
ALBERT (throwing off gidney’s hand) Let go of me!
SEELEY What are you pulling him for?
GIDNEY You keep out of this.
KING (nervously) Now please let me continue my toast, ladies and gendemen. Really, you must settle this elsewhere.
SEELEY We don’t even know what he’s supposed to have done.
ALBERT I didn’t do anything.
GIDNEY We can guess what he did.
KING (at speed) We are all collected here tonight in honour of Mr Ryan and to present him with a token of our affection –
JOYCE (to ALBERT) You snake!
SEELEY Well, what did he do? What’s he supposed to have done?
ALBERT She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
SEELEY Come on, what’s he supposed to have done, Eileen, anyway?
EILEEN Mind you own business.
JOYCE You don’t think she’s going to tell you, do you?
GIDNEY Look, Seeley, why don’t you shut up?
SEELEY Now don’t talk to me like that, Gidney.
ALBERT Don’t worry about him, Seeley.
KING As I have been trying to say –
JOYCE You come over here, Eileen, sit down. She’s upset, aren’t you?
EILEEN (to SEELEY) So would you be!
KING Miss Phipps, would you mind composing yourself?
EILEEN Composing myself!
GIDNEY Come outside a minute, Albert.
KING As I have been trying to say –
KEDGE (brightly) I’m listening, Mr King!
KING What?
KEDGE I’m listening. I’m with you.
KING Oh, thank you. Thank you, my boy.
ALBERT I’m going, anyway.
ALBERT goes into the hall, followed by GIDNEY and SEELEY. The door shuts behind them.
GIDNEY Wait a minute, Stokes.
ALBERT What do you want?
GIDNEY I haven’t been satisfied with your … sort of … behaviour for some time, you know that, don’t you?
ALBERT You haven’t … you haven’t what?
GIDNEY For instance, there was that bloody awful game of football you played when you threw the game away last Saturday that I’ve got on my mind, besides one or two other things!
SEELEY Eh look, Gidney, you’re talking like a prize –
GIDNEY (viciously) I’ve told you to keep out of this.
ALBERT (tensely) I’m going, anyway.
GIDNEY Wait a minute, let’s have it out. What do you think you’re up to?
ALBERT Look, I’ve told you –
GIDNEY What did you think you were doing with that girl?
ALBERT I didn’t touch her.
GIDNEY I’m responsible for that girl. She’s a good friend of mine. I know her uncle.
ALBERT Do you?
SEELEY You know, you’re being so stupid, Gidney –
GIDNEY Seeley, I can take you any day, you know that, don’t you?
SEELEY Go on!
GIDNEY Any day.
SEELEY You can take me any day?
GIDNEY Any day.
SEELEY Well, go on, then. Go on … if you can take me …
ALBERT Seeley –
SEELEY No, if he says he can take me, if he can take me any day …
The door opens slightly, HORNE and BARROW peer out.
ALBERT Gidney, why don’t you … why don’t you get back to the party?
GIDNEY I was telling you, Albert –
ALBERT Stokes.
GIDNEY I was telling you, Albert, that if you’re going to behave like a boy often in mixed company –
ALBERT I told you my name’s Stokes!
GIDNEY Don’t be childish, Albert.
A sudden silence. MR KING’s voice from the room.
KING … and for his unfailing good humour and cheeriness, Mr Ryan will always be remembered at Hislop, King and Martindale!
Scattered applause. HORNE, caught by their stares, shuts the door hastily.
ALBERT (going to the door) Goodnight.
GIDNEY (obstructing him) Go back and apologise.
ALBERT What for?
GIDNEY For insulting a lady. Mate. A lady. Something to do with breeding. But I suppose you’re too bloody backward to know anything about that.
ALBERT You’re talking right out of your hat.
SEELEY Right out of the bowler.
GIDNEY (to SEELEY) No one invited you out here, did they?
SEELEY Who invited you?
GIDNEY I’m talking to this man on behalf of the firm! Unless I get a satisfactory explanation I shall think seriously about recommending his dismissal.
ALBERT Get out of my way, will you?
GIDNEY Acting like an animal all over the place –
ALBERT Move out of it!
GIDNEY (breathlessly) I know your trouble.
ALBERT Oh, yes?
GIDNEY Yes, sticks out a mile.
ALBERT Does it?
GIDNEY Yes.
ALBERT What’s my trouble then?
GIDNEY (very deliberately) You’re a mother’s boy. That’s what you are. That’s your trouble. You’re a mother’s boy.
ALBERT hits him. There is a scuffle, SEELEY tries to part them. The three rock back and forth in the hall: confused blows, words and grunts.
The door of the room opens. Faces. MR KING comes out.
KING What in heaven’s name is going on here!
The s
cuffle stops. A short silence, ALBERT opens the front door, goes out and slams it behind him. He stands on the doorstep, breathing heavily, his face set.
SCENE TWO
The kitchen.
MRS STOKES ij asleep, her head resting on the table, the cards disordered. The clock ticks. It is twelve o’clock. The front door opens slowly. ALBERT comes in, closes the door softly, stops, looks across to the open kitchen door, sees his mother, and begins to creep up the stairs with great stealth. The camera follows him. Her voice stops him.
MOTHER Albert!
He stops.
Albert! Is that you?
She goes to the kitchen door.
What are you creeping up the stairs for? Might have been a burglar. What would I have done then?
He descends slowly.
Creeping up the stairs like that. Give anyone a fright. Creeping up the stairs like that. You leave me in the house all alone … (She stops and regards him.) Look at you! Look at your suit. What’s the matter with your tie, it’s all crumpled, I pressed it for you this morning. Well, I won’t even ask any questions. That’s all. You look a disgrace.
He walks past her into the kitchen, goes to the sink and pours himself a glass of water. She follows him.
What have you been doing, mucking about with girls?
She begins to pile the cards.
Mucking about with girls, I suppose. Do you know what the time is? I fell asleep, right here at this table, waiting for you. I don’t know what your father would say. Coming in this time of night. It’s after twelve o’clock. In a state like that. Drunk, I suppose. I suppose your dinner’s ruined. Well, if you want to make a convenience out of your own home, that’s your business. I’m only your mother, I don’t suppose that counts for much these days. I’m not saying any more. If you want to go mucking about with girls, that’s your business.
She takes his dinner out of the oven.
Well, anyway, you’ll have your dinner. You haven’t eaten a single thing all night.
She places a plate on the table and gets knife and fork. He stands by the sink, sipping water.
I wouldn’t mind if you found a really nice girl and brought her home and introduced her to your mother, brought her home for dinner, I’d know you were sincere, if she was a really nice girl, she’d be like a daughter to me. But you’ve never brought a girl home here in your life. I suppose you’re ashamed of your mother.
Pause.
Come on, it’s all dried up. I kept it on a low light. I couldn’t even go up to Grandma’s room and have a look round because there wasn’t any bulb, you might as well eat it.
He stands.
What’s the matter, are you drunk? Where did you go, to one of those pubs in the West End? You’ll get into serious trouble, my boy, if you frequent those places, I’m warning you. Don’t you read the papers?
Pause.
I hope you’re satisfied, anyway. The house in darkness, I wasn’t going to break my neck going down to that cellar to look for a bulb, you come home looking like I don’t know what, anyone would think you gave me a fortune out of your wages. Yes. I don’t say anything, do I? I keep quiet about what you expect me to manage on. I never grumble. I keep a lovely home, I bet there’s none of the boys in your firm better fed than you are. I’m not asking for gratitude. But one things hurts me, Albert, and I’ll tell you what it is. Not for years, not for years, have you come up to me and said, Mum, I love you, like you did when you were a little boy. You’ve never said it without me having to ask you. Not since before your father died. And he was a good man. He had high hopes of you. I’ve never told you, Albert, about the high hopes he had of you. I don’t know what you do with all your money. But don’t forget what it cost us to rear you, my boy, I’ve never told you about the sacrifices we made, you wouldn’t care, anyway. Telling me lies about going to the firm’s party. They’ve got a bit of respect at that firm, that’s why we sent you there, to start off your career, they wouldn’t let you carry on like that at one of their functions. Mr King would have his eye on you. I don’t know where you’ve been. Well, if you don’t want to lead a clean life it’s your lookout, if you want to go mucking about with all sorts of bits of girls, if you’re content to leave your own mother sitting here till midnight, and I wasn’t feeling well, anyway, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to upset you, I keep things from you, you’re the only one I’ve got, but what do you care, you don’t care, you don’t care, the least you can do is sit down and eat the dinner I cooked for you, specially for you, it’s Shepherd’s Pie –
ALBERT lunges to the table, picks up the clock and violently raises it above his head. A stifled scream from the MOTHER.
Act Three
SCENE ONE
The coffee stall, shuttered.
ALBERT is leaning against it. He is sweating. He is holding the butt of a cigarette. There is a sound of a foot on gravel. He starts, the butt burns his hand, he drops it and turns. A girl is looking at him. She smiles.
GIRL Good evening.
Pause.
What are you doing?
Pause.
What are you doing out at this time of night?
She moves closer to him.
I live just round the corner.
He stares at her.
Like to? Chilly out here, isn’t it? Come on.
Pause.
Come on.
He goes with her.
SCENE TWO
The GIRL’s room. The door opens. She comes in. Her manner has changed from the seductive. She is brisk and nervous.
GIRL Come in. Don’t slam the door. Shut it gently. I’ll light the fire. Chilly out, don’t you find? Have you got a match?
He walks across the room.
Please don’t walk so heavily. Please. There’s no need to let … to let the whole house know you’re here. Life’s difficult enough as it is. Have you got a match?
ALBERT No, I … I don’t think I have.
GIRL Oh, God, you’d think you’d have a match.
He walks about.
I say, would you mind taking your shoes off? You’re really making a dreadful row. Really, I can’t bear … noisy … people.
He looks at his shoes, begins to untie one. The girl searches for matches on the mantelpiece, upon which are a number of articles and objects, including a large alarm clock.
I know I had one somewhere.
ALBERT I’ve got a lighter.
GIRL You can’t light a gas fire with a lighter. You’d burn your fingers.
She bends down to the hearth.
Where are the damn things? This is ridiculous. I die without the fire. I simply die. (She finds the box.) Ah, here we are. At last.
She turns on the gas fire and lights it. He watches her. She puts the matchbox on the mantelpiece and picks up a photo.
Do you like this photo? It’s of my litde girl. She’s staying with friends. Rather fine, isn’t she? Very aristocratic features, don’t you think? She’s at a very select boarding school at the moment, actually. In … Hereford, very near Hereford. (She puts the photo back.) I shall be going down for the prize day shortly. You do look idiotic standing there with one shoe on and one shoe off. All lopsided.
ALBERT pulls at the lace of his other shoe. The lace breaks. He swears shortly under his breath.
GIRL (sharply) Do you mind not saying words like that?
ALBERT I didn’t …
GIRL I heard you curse.
ALBERT My lace broke.
GIRL That’s no excuse.
ALBERT What did I say?
GIRL I’m sorry, I can’t bear that sort of thing. It’s just … not in my personality.
ALBERT I’m sorry.
GIRL It’s quite all right. It’s just … something in my nature. I’ve got to think of my daughter, too, you know.
She crouches by the fire.
Come near the fire a minute. Sit down.
He goes towards a small stool.
Not on that! That’s my seat.
It’s my own stool. I did the needlework myself. A long time ago.
He sits in a chair, opposite.
Which do you prefer, electric or gas? For a fire, I mean?
ALBERT (holding his forehead, muttering) I don’t know.
GIRL There’s no need to be rude, it was a civil question. I prefer gas. Or a log fire, of course. They have them in Switzerland.
Pause.
Have you got a headache?
ALBERT No.
GIRL I didn’t realise you had a lighter. You don’t happen to have any cigarettes on you, I suppose?
ALBERT No.
GIRL I’m very fond of a smoke. After dinner. With a glass of wine. Or before dinner, with sherry.
She stands and taps the mantelpiece, her eyes roaming over it.
You look as if you’ve had a night out. Where have you been? Had a nice time?
ALBERT Quite … quite nice.
GIRL (sitting on the stool) What do you do?
ALBERT I … work in films.
GIRL Films? Really? What do you do?
ALBERT I’m an assistant director.
GIRL Really? How funny. I used to be a continuity girl. But I gave it up.
ALBERT (tonelessly) What a pity.
GIRL Yes, I’m beginning to think you’re right. You meet such a good class of people. Of course, now you say you’re an assistant director I can see what you mean. I mean, I could tell you had breeding the moment I saw you. You looked a bit washed out, perhaps, but there was no mistaking the fact that you had breeding. I’m extremely particular, you see. I do like a certain amount of delicacy in men … a certain amount … a certain degree … a certain amount of refinement. You do see my point? Some men I couldn’t possibly entertain. Not even if I was … starving. I don’t want to be personal, but that word you used, when you broke your lace, it made me shiver, I’m just not that type, made me wonder if you were as well bred as I thought …
The Short Plays of Harold Pinter Page 11