by David Hare
Amy smiles across lovingly. Evelyn Thomas has come into the room. She is white-haired, in her late seventies, in good shape, but moving and talking in the self-contained rhythm of older people, on a course of her own. She is carrying in a pile of big books.
Evelyn I wanted to show him this album. Pictures of your mother when she was young.
Amy It is past midnight. Are you sure you shouldn’t be going to bed?
Evelyn I wait every night.
Amy What time does she get here?
Evelyn It varies. She comes in a taxi.
Amy What, from the station?
Evelyn Oh no. From London.
Amy My God!
Evelyn has set the books down on the table, at the far end from Amy, and has started to look through them.
Evelyn Thank God your father never found this. Esme at RADA, some young man with his arm round her waist.
Amy You do know the pub is already closed?
Dominic It’s no longer the beer. It’s the challenge.
Evelyn is still turning the pages.
Evelyn Esme, with another young actress. Looking quite peaky.
Amy A taxi from London!
Evelyn looks up a moment.
Evelyn You did tell her you were coming?
Amy I left a message. Some woman at the theatre. She sounded sort of ginny. Three packs a day.
Evelyn Yes. That’s her dresser. Tweed skirts. A voice like Alvar Lidell.
Amy That was her.
Evelyn Did you mention your friend?
Amy Not by name. But I did say I was two.
Evelyn She never sees anyone. Of course, she pretends that she does. I suppose she does see the neighbours. But I wouldn’t count them.
Amy Nor would I.
Evelyn Horses and hip operations, otherwise you’re wasting your time.
She turns another page.
Here she is again, looking sluttish.
Amy has gone over to see how Dominic’s getting on.
Dominic Do you think it’s just been in the garage too long?
Evelyn That’s Bernard’s bicycle.
Amy We thought it must be Dad’s.
Evelyn For a start, he’s been dead fifteen years. And he didn’t cycle for another fifteen before that.
Dominic Oh then, I must say, no wonder.
Evelyn Overall, you may be looking back to the war.
Dominic laughs at the hopelessness of it.
Dominic Yes, well, whoever, they lost the instructions.
Evelyn Are you sure you have the right one? I could never tell the difference between the John Bull bicycle repair kit, and that little printing set they do as well.
Amy Oh yes of course, the printing set! The time I spent getting my fingers bright blue … with those little rubber ants …
Evelyn Ah yes. Your paper.
Amy, going back to the table, raises her voice for the older woman.
Amy You remember? I did it for years. You can’t have forgotten. How could you? Surely. It was called Amy’s View.
Evelyn So it was.
Amy You see. Infant journalist. Crosswords. Cartoons. Interviews. Mostly with my mother, I’m afraid. I used to hawk it round the widows of Pangbourne. I made a small fortune.
Evelyn has gone back to the album.
Evelyn Esme, smiling, at the seaside. Wearing an unfortunate jumper.
Dominic (sniffing) Do you think people used these things to get high?
Dominic goes to glue the rubber strip at the table.
Amy Dominic was spared all the pleasures of family. He was brought up by nuns.
Dominic Well, not exactly.
Evelyn What’s she saying?
Dominic (raising his voice) I’m an orphan.
Evelyn I’m sorry.
Dominic There’s really no need.
Evelyn speaks as if Dominic were not present.
Evelyn Does he know who his parents are?
Amy No.
Dominic I always thought they’d turn out to be frightful. And not to be interested in the same things as me. I’m not sure we’d know what to say to one another.
Evelyn Wouldn’t you?
Dominic Apart from, ‘Oh, so it’s you.’
He seems unperturbed.
I don’t think it’s really such a big issue. They’re strangers. I don’t think they marked me for life.
Evelyn Don’t you?
Dominic No. No, I don’t think so. I just am who I am.
He frowns a moment at the table.
Evelyn What a strange thing for your young man to say.
Amy is unsettled by Evelyn’s reaction.
Amy Is it? I understand.
Evelyn Do you?
Amy Of course. His family didn’t want him. That’s what they were saying by letting him go.
Evelyn More likely they weren’t able to cope.
Amy Yes, that as well. Of course, that’s part of it.
She suddenly stops, embarrassed.
Well, you say, Dominic.
Dominic Obviously, I can only guess at their reasons. But they made a choice. It’s always seemed to me I should allow them that choice.
Evelyn looks at him quite sharply.
Evelyn What a depressing philosophy. Are you sure you’re with the right man?
Amy Quite sure.
Dominic I don’t think she’s worried.
Evelyn Of course not. At her age, that’s par for the course.
Dominic has gone back to the bike, not taking this mischief-making seriously.
Amy Grandma, we don’t need your views on the subject …
Evelyn I’m saying nothing. I’m reading this book.
Amy Good. So I should hope.
Dominic is kneeling, putting on the blue strip.
All right, Dominic?
Dominic Why, sure. Everything’s fine.
He spins the wheel, the job done.
Amy Dominic’s editing a film magazine. That’s his main interest. He writes about films.
Evelyn In my day we just used to watch them.
Dominic Ah yes, but things have moved on.
Amy Evelyn taught art …
Evelyn I did.
Amy In a school …
Evelyn In the same school. Quite near here. For over forty years. I always told the children: just do it. What is there to say?
Amy Ah well, Dominic doesn’t feel that at all.
Evelyn No.
Dominic I think it’s worthwhile to discuss the whole concept of cinema. I can’t get past this extraordinary idea. That actually it’s nothing. It’s just beams of light.
He stands a moment, thinking it through.
All that complexity, that feeling. And it’s all in the air.
Amy You should read what he’s written. He has these extraordinary theories …
Dominic (modestly) Well …
Amy To do with psychology. The relation of cinema to dream? How we experience fictive narratives while sleeping. I know it sounds heavy, but when you read it, it makes perfect sense.
Evelyn is neutral, giving nothing away.
Evelyn What’s it called, this magazine?
Dominic Noir et Blanc.
Amy It’s in English. It’s just the title that’s French.
Evelyn Well, good.
Amy Dominic started it himself. I go round in the evening …
Dominic There’s only two of us.
Amy I go round selling in cafés, in cinemas …
Evelyn I thought you’d got a job of your own.
Amy Yes. But this is the evenings. I go out and sell Noir et Blanc.
Amy stops, as if brought up short.
It’s odd. It hadn’t occurred to me. It’s like Amy’s View.
Evelyn Yes.
Amy Except this time the view is Dominic’s.
Before she has time to be embarrassed she hears an approaching taxi.
Is that the sound of a car?
Evelyn Did you say she’s coming?
&n
bsp; Amy Dominic, I think it’s my mother.
Evelyn I’ll put her food in the oven. The pub sends something round.
Dominic I’ll move the bike.
Evelyn It’s usually disgusting.
Amy My goodness, she gets her food from the pub?
Evelyn has gone. Seeing Dominic about to move the bike, Amy stops him.
There’s no need. You mustn’t be embarrassed. She’s terribly easy, I promise you that.
Dominic It’s all right. It’s not me that’s embarrassed.
Amy No.
He kisses her lightly. They wait a moment, their backs to us, like children. Then we see her take his hand.
Esme (off) Hello. Is there anyone there?
Amy (raising her voice) Yes. Yes. We’re in here.
Esme Allen comes in. She is forty-nine, in a simple dress and carrying a big bag. She is surprisingly small, her manner both sensitive and intense. Something in her vulnerability makes people instantly protective of her.
Esme Amy, how are you? How good to see you. Are you all right? You don’t look very well.
Amy No, I’m fine.
Esme kisses and hugs her daughter warmly.
Mother, I promised I’d introduce you. This is my friend with a bike.
Esme We’ve never met.
Dominic No.
They shake hands. There is a slight hiatus.
Dominic.
Esme How are you?
Dominic Thank you. I’m very well.
They both smile at their own awkwardness. Evelyn comes in and starts laying a place.
Esme I got your message. I’m thrilled at this privilege.
Dominic Just let me move this.
Esme Don’t move it, please, on my account. I quite like it there. What’ve you been doing? Rallying?
Amy No, Mother, he’s just been mending the tyre.
Dominic has turned it upright and is leaning it against the wall.
Esme I see. Is he freelance? Does he do fuses and plugs? The tank in the attic’s in a terrible state. Why did he start with the bike?
Amy Very funny …
Esme I don’t need to bother with supper, Evelyn.
Amy He fancied the pub for a beer.
But Evelyn is already on her way out.
Esme Tell me, how long are you down for?
Amy Oh, well that’s up to Dominic. I got a couple of days from my publishing house.
Esme Did you get some dinner? I’m afraid there’s never anything here. Evelyn’s gone macrobiotic or something. She eats pulses. She believes they’re prolonging her life. As if it hadn’t gone on long enough.
Dominic There we are.
Esme I get in steak and kidney if I’m not to starve.
Amy smiles, in recognition about Evelyn.
Amy Yes, Evelyn’s already cast an eye over Dominic. Found fault with him.
Esme No! She’s insane.
Amy That’s what I think.
Esme In Pangbourne, for God’s sake. A man under fifty who can actually handle a spanner! Leave him outside the door and he’d be snapped up in a trice.
Dominic seems happy with the flattery.
Esme So. What do you do? Amy says you’re a journalist.
Dominic Oh well, yes, of a kind.
Esme What kind?
Dominic I’ve started a magazine. Also I write bits for a diary. For a national paper. Just to make money.
Amy It’s only what he’s doing for now.
Dominic That’s right.
Esme What sort of diary?
Dominic The usual sort. We ring people up and we’re terribly nice to them. Then we write something horrid which appears the next day. At least that’s the general procedure.
Esme Ah. And you don’t ever get the two bits confused? Find yourself being horrid in person? Then accidentally writing something nice the next day …
Dominic Oh no, that would be gross professional misconduct. You’d be hounded out of Fleet Street for that.
They share the joke.
I mean, no in fact …
Amy No really …
Esme I’m joking.
Dominic Me too. I’m being facetious. The diary’s a way of just getting by. At least until I can do what I want.
Esme Which is?
Dominic It sounds silly, even to say. But I suppose eventually I want to make films.
There is a moment’s silence.
Esme Ah, right then. Why is that silly?
Dominic Isn’t it what everyone wants?
Esme If you want it enough, I’ve no doubt you’ll do it.
Dominic Yes. That’s what Amy says.
Esme watches, realising how serious it is between them.
Actually the diary’s been terribly interesting.
Esme Really?
Dominic Yes, I’ve been quite impressed.
Esme walks across the room to sit in a big armchair. Dominic is more confident.
At first I was scared. I was talking to such famous people. Especially film people. We’d talk on the phone, I’d write down what they say. Blah blah blah. But then I noticed, if I write something praiseful, they feel sort of grateful.
Esme Why, surely.
Dominic Yes, but I think I’ve been quite surprised.
Esme Why?
Dominic Well just … these are well-known people. You think perhaps by now they’d be more secure. But not at all. No, you write as if you like them and suddenly, they’re really responsive.
Esme Of course.
Dominic Yes, but it almost shocks me how much.
Esme is looking at him a little harder.
Esme So what are you saying?
Dominic I don’t know. I suppose in my little way … just on this stupid diary, I mean … I suppose I’ve realised that writing is power.
Esme Uh-huh. Which you can use consciously?
Dominic Sort of.
Esme So you can start to advance your career?
She has not said it unkindly but it prompts a rush of denial from them both.
Dominic Well …
Amy Dominic doesn’t mean that.
Dominic No. Not at all.
Amy Dominic’d never do that.
Dominic No. Not blatantly. But on the other hand, if you take what they say – which is often not interesting – and you make it witty, next day you give it some oomph, then I’ve noticed they call you. It’s a hideous phrase, but you begin to make contacts.
Amy And that’s something which Dominic realises he may have to do.
Esme Make contacts?
Dominic Yes.
Esme Goodness.
Dominic I can’t avoid it. If I’m to make films. And why not?
Amy Yes. You’re just getting access.
Dominic That’s it.
There is a slight silence.
The mistake of course would be to take the stuff I write seriously. But what does it matter? As we say on the diary, it’s gone in a day.
Esme Mmm.
Esme has grown thoughtful. Amy wants to dispel the atmosphere.
Amy I hadn’t realised the play was still running.
Esme No, well, it was going to close. Then someone reopened it. In a smaller theatre.
Amy I see. And you’re still in it?
Esme Oh yes. At least for a while.
Amy joins in the familiar complaint.
Esme and Amy There are no parts for women.
Esme I have a good death scene at least. The writer’s not terribly present. Nor the director. They only stay for the opening.
Amy They wind you up and you go.
Esme Yes.
Esme tucks her legs up under her and looks absently at Evelyn, who has returned.
What on earth are you doing with that album?
Evelyn I got it out to show it to Amy’s young friend. But he showed no interest.
Esme No, well, he’s right. There’s nothing to see.
Amy looks anxiously to Dominic.
Amy Dominic, you’v
e never seen my mother acting.
Dominic No. It must seem ridiculous. I do know how famous you are. But my generation … by and large, we don’t go to the theatre. To us it doesn’t seem relevant.
Esme Now why should it? I quite understand.
Evelyn goes out again, saying nothing.
People say, oh, everyone should go to the theatre. Why should they? We don’t want an audience being brought in by force. And for us, there’s nothing more disheartening than playing to people who are there because they’ve been told it’s doing them good.
Dominic Quite.
Esme Let’s play to people who actually like it. And if there aren’t very many, so be it. But don’t come because you’ve been told to. No, that won’t do at all.
She is thoughtful, so again Amy prompts her to cheer her up.
Amy Mummy is brilliant at playing comedy.
Esme I’m usually best at playing genteel. With something interesting happening underneath. Layers. I play lots of layers.
Amy She plays them wonderfully.
Esme Thank you. My Shakespearean heroines were not a success. I suffered with a gay Orlando. Amy remembers. Everything was fine when I was dressed as a boy.
Amy But then there’s this bit … As You Like It, do you know? She has to reveal she’s a woman …
Esme He was right. I don’t blame him. I was sexier the other way.
Amy Nonsense!
Esme But oh dear! The look on his face …
Esme lights a cigarette.
Amy It was funny.
Esme Everyone’s so young at the theatre. Theatre’s a young person’s game. Eventually it becomes undignified. Dressing up, pretending to be someone else. Then saying things which someone else tells you to. After a while, you start to think, where am I? Where do I fit in all this?
Amy consciously keeps things going.
Amy How are the rest of them? How is that actor? The one who plays the old man.
Esme Oh, they’ve changed him. Now Perry Potter is playing that part. You know Perry. He wears a scarf. And a sort of pan bagnat to cover his baldness.
Amy A pan bagnat?
Esme You know those things. Like this.
She swirls her hand round her head.
Amy What on earth are you talking about? A pan bagnat is a kind of a sandwich.
Esme Why …
Amy With olives and tuna. Mother, it comes in a bun.
Esme Of course I know that. I know that!
Amy She has such extraordinary gaps in her knowledge. She thinks a pan bagnat is a hat!
Esme Oh very satirical. You’re all so superior. With your new universities. I don’t have book learning, not the hyper-accurate type. But I have a different kind of intelligence …