David Hare Plays 3

by David Hare

  THREE

  Elsa Quinn is sitting on top of Paul’s desk, her feet on a chair below her. It is evening, in a large place of work. There is a feeling of modern technology. Overhead lights stretch away into the distance. Elsa is in her early thirties. She is wearing a short dark skirt and a white shirt. She is Danish by birth, but next to nothing of her accent remains. At this moment, she has a pleasant air of amusement, as if someone has just told her a joke.

  Elsa ‘And so what was she like?

  Paul ‘Who?

  Elsa ‘This woman. This woman who drove you nuts.

  Paul ‘You’d have to meet her for yourself to decide.

  Elsa ‘Why?

  Paul ‘Why? Because why do you think? Why do you think, for goodness’ sake? Because from me you will get a partial account.

  Elsa ‘Why?

  Paul ‘Because … Oh, just because! Why do you think?

  Elsa ‘She really got to you?

  Paul has no need to answer. They smile together.

  Paul ‘And also she wanted to be an actress, which was also not easy. Because I had to watch television – and …

  Elsa ‘That’s not such a hardship.

  Paul ‘I don’t know … look at her in helmets and things.

  Elsa ‘Viking helmets?

  Paul ‘No. Police helmets. Obviously.

  Elsa ‘It’s not obvious.

  Paul ‘It’s what actors have to do. Or the ones she knew. They play police all the time. Or doctors. They play very few Vikings. She was a doctor for a bit in a series where they went to the cupboards at the ends of the wards and made love.

  Elsa frowns.

  Young doctors, you know, working thirty-five-hour shifts and fucking each other in the middle of the night. We’re So Tired All We Can Do Is. Underfunding as eroticism, that sort of thing.

  Elsa ‘You had to watch your girlfriend with other people?

  Paul ‘Simulating, yes.

  Elsa ‘How was that?

  Paul ‘Not bad, actually. Quite fun, actually, in a kind of way.

  Paul laughs.

  I always think I should have minded it more.

  There is a silence. Elsa recrosses her legs. Paul just sits, thinking.

  I minded it more when she did it in real life.

  Elsa looks at him a moment. It’s a decisive confidence on his part.

  Elsa ‘Is that why it ended?

  Paul ‘Oh.

  Elsa ‘It is over?

  Paul ‘Oh yes. Long over.

  Paul thinks, then casually springs back to life.

  And apart from anything there’s the ridiculous incongruity.

  Elsa ‘Like?

  Paul ‘Explaining to a friend, ‘Oh I’m crazy about this woman, she’s so extraordinary, I’m going out of my mind.’ They say, ‘Do you mean the dark one?’ I say, ‘No, the dark one plays the radiotherapist.’ ‘Oh the pathologist,’ they say. ‘It’s the pathologist you want to kill yourself for.’ It seems so arbitrary. Because she was this face on television so everyone thought they knew her. But in fact only I knew her.

  Elsa ‘Only you?

  Paul ‘Well, me and the dozen others. The dirty dozen, as I came to think of them.

  Elsa watches, not moving.

  Elsa ‘Why did you say, ‘She wanted to be an actress’?

  Paul ‘Did I?

  Elsa ‘You said, ‘She wanted to be an actress.’

  Paul ‘Oh yes.

  Elsa ‘But she was an actress.

  Paul ‘That’s what I’m saying. In the world’s eyes. To me, she was something else.

  Elsa ‘What was her name?

  Paul ignores the question. He turns to Elsa.

  Paul ‘What about you?

  Elsa ‘Oh …

  Paul ‘Any such figure in your life? Why are we talking about this?

  Elsa ‘It’s often more interesting … don’t you think …?

  Paul ‘In what way?

  Elsa ‘Talking to people you don’t know?

  Paul ‘Maybe. I don’t live that kind of life any more.

  Elsa ‘What? What life?

  Paul ‘Oh you know. Girls. Bars. Girls go with bars in my mind and bars are long since forbidden.

  Elsa ‘Bars frighten you?

  Paul ‘No. Everything frightens me.

  They share the absurdity and the moment unlocks him.

  Oh look, well what happens is … for goodness’ sake you know about this …

  Elsa ‘Do I?

  Paul ‘You’re focused on one thing, aren’t you?

  Elsa ‘You tell me.

  Paul ‘Your recovery. Isn’t that right? You want to recover. That’s all you want. And the other person … well, the other person has got tired of clearing up … You can’t blame them, it’s fair enough, they’re just tired of tidying up after …

  Elsa ‘Well, yes …

  Paul ‘You know about this?

  Elsa gives nothing away.

  Elsa ‘Go on.

  Paul ‘Every night you’re sick. You’re reeling. Whatever. You’re in agony.

  Elsa ‘The guilt!

  Paul ‘Exactly.

  Elsa ‘You’re drinking again.

  Paul ‘And the other person says, she says, ‘I don’t want to play nurse. I refuse to play nurse. I won’t do it.’

  Elsa ‘Especially when they play nurse on the television already.

  Paul nods, gaining momentum.

  Paul ‘So then after a while you start to think, OK, this isn’t too bad, I’m beginning to clean up, I’m sober – hey, this is really much better.

  Elsa ‘One day at a time.

  Paul ‘Precisely. As you say. You think: at last. I deserve a fucking break.

  Elsa ‘You do deserve a break. It’s true.

  Paul ‘I’ve been to fifty thousand fucking meetings. And I deserve a break.

  Elsa ‘And? Instead?

  Paul looks at her, deciding once more how far to go.

  Paul ‘Instead – like the trick of an actress to be – I don’t know – not to play roles exactly, no she doesn’t do that, Clem didn’t do that – but to slither about, to slide all the time. And you long for someone who is constant …

  Elsa ‘Yes.

  Paul ‘You have no right to ask, God knows you have no rights – you’re a snake, you know that, you’re lower than a snake – but you do long for someone who does not slither about.

  Elsa ‘Yes.

  Paul ‘Then one day she turns to you, she informs you that she is an honest person, she is an unusual human being, because she cannot live in an atmosphere of lies, she cannot bear dishonesty. ‘Sorry,’ she says, ‘but that’s my character’ – so she must tell you she’s been meeting other people, other people who are, as it were, not you, the reason being, Clem says, that you were a drunk and so what was she meant to do?

  Elsa ‘Do you believe her?

  Paul ‘Believe her how? What, believe she slept with them?

  Elsa ‘No, believe her reasons.

  Paul ‘She slept with a dozen other men. A dozen. Finally, what the hell do her reasons matter?

  For the first time Paul lets his feelings show. Elsa watches from the desktop, still giving nothing away.

  Elsa ‘They matter.

  Paul ‘And then, well then, when you’ve been clean for a week or two she turns round – you are struggling to hold on, you are struggling to maintain the relationship – she looks at you and she says: you know what she says?

  Elsa ‘I think I can guess.

  Paul ‘You’re warming up the dinner from Marks and Spencer’s. You’ve turned on the television. You’re pouring the Coca-Cola. She says ‘Do you know something, Paul? Since you’ve tried to clean up you’ve got kind of boring. Have you noticed? You were so much more interesting when you were drunk.’

  Elsa ‘Yes. And were you?

  Paul ‘Early on she said, ‘No commitments.’ Later I said, ‘I agreed, no commitments. But somehow when you said no commitments, forgive me, I did not foresee the number tw
elve.’

  Paul shakes his head.

  Anyway, then the plan is, the project is: you are to return to the meetings … ‘Hello. My name is Paul. I’m an alcoholic.’

  Elsa ‘And go through the scene …

  Paul ‘Yes …

  Elsa ‘Discuss the details of the scene …

  Paul ‘Exactly.

  Elsa ‘Her duodecimal behaviour …

  Paul looks despairingly at her.

  Paul ‘Whoa, mind you, I’m not saying – let’s be clear – AA is my sole hope, my sole source of hope …

  Elsa ‘Is it?

  Paul ‘For sure. I should be there now.

  Elsa ‘‘Should’?

  Paul ‘But you’ll understand if occasionally I say, ‘I can’t get to the meeting, I couldn’t get to the meeting, I was held up at Flotilla, I ran into the boss’s wife …’

  Elsa ‘I’m glad you did. I’m really glad.

  There is a moment suspended between them.

  People don’t want to know me. They want to know my husband. Or rather they want to know me because that way they get to meet my husband.

  Paul ‘Does that upset you?

  Elsa ‘Not at all. It amuses me.

  Paul ‘Why?

  Elsa ‘I’ve a life of my own. And let’s face it, he’s a fascinating man. Why should people not want to meet him?

  Elsa looks away.

  When he met me, I was a drunk.

  There is a silence. They look at each other, straight in the eye, a deep bond between them. In the distance, the bell of a City church chimes. Silently, overhead squares of light begin to go out around them in irregular rhythm, as if whole areas of the building were being evacuated. Neither of them moves.

  What time is it?

  Paul ‘Eight.

  Elsa ‘Wow.

  Paul ‘I know.

  Elsa ‘I must get going.

  Paul ‘Yes.

  Elsa ‘It’s silly. We must be the last people here.

  Elsa doesn’t move, just stays, sitting on the desktop. Paul waits to see what will happen.

  Paul ‘What about you?

  Elsa ‘What?

  Paul ‘Victor said you used to go to the meetings.

  Elsa ‘I did.

  Paul ‘You stopped?

  Elsa ‘I did.

  Paul ‘You don’t …

  Elsa ‘What?

  Paul ‘I’m asking if you’re clean.

  Elsa ‘Well … I have two children, remember?

  Paul ‘Does that make it easier?

  Elsa ‘Not at all. No, on the contrary.

  Paul ‘Then why do you mention it?

  Elsa ‘Because whatever feelings of guilt you suffer from, I suffered much worse.

  Paul ‘Ah.

  Elsa ‘Paul, I’m not a stranger to self-hatred.

  Elsa is looking at him very directly.

  Why do you imagine Victor employed you?

  Paul ‘You say. You tell me. Why do you think Victor employed me?

  Elsa ‘I imagine in some way you remind him of me.

  Paul looks her straight in the eye, not responding, giving nothing away.

  Paul ‘Tell me what we’re doing. Tell me what’s going on.

  Elsa slips down off the desk, moving for the first time. She smiles, apparently at ease.

  Elsa ‘What are we doing? We’re talking.

  Paul ‘Thank God.

  Elsa ‘That’s all.

  Elsa sits in a nearby chair. She crosses her legs.

  I’ve no right to talk about this. As you say, I hardly know you. I came in here by chance. I was looking for Victor, actually …

  Paul ‘He’ll be back soon, he said.

  Elsa ‘Well, good.

  They look at each other, neither shifting their gaze.

  Paul ‘You see, it’s the bit … forgive me, it’s the moment when you rustle your legs …

  Elsa ‘I’m sorry.

  Paul ‘No. The sound of your stockings.

  Elsa ‘I’ll try to sit more discreetly.

  Paul ‘It’s fine.

  Elsa barely moves.

  Elsa ‘Are you going to hold on and wait?

  Paul ‘I’ve nothing else to do. My flat’s empty as usual. And there’s nothing in the larder.

  Elsa ‘You should stock up. What do you live on?

  Paul ‘Pulses, they’re called. And cheap nourishing stews.

  Elsa is gazing at him, unwavering.

  They tell you at the meetings not to get hungry – hunger’s the enemy, they say –

  Elsa ‘Or angry –

  Paul ‘Hungry. Angry. Lonely. Tired.

  Elsa ‘Oh no. You mustn’t be any of those.

  Paul looks down, embarrassed.

  Paul ‘The point is, you see, it’s not just Clem.

  Elsa ‘No …

  Paul ‘I don’t mean just Clem I have to avoid. Ridiculous. All women I have to avoid. I’m happier with blokes. Or in groups. Five’s a good number. Or four. Two makes me jumpy. Forgive me, speaking generally …

  Elsa ‘Of course.

  Paul ‘In general.

  Elsa ‘Of course.

  Paul ‘Talking is fine. This is fine. Talking to you is fine. But all contact, any real closeness, I have to avoid. I’m a recovering alcoholic.

  Paul checks with her, but she does not react.

  What’s good is, I’ve had to face the question: what makes me drink?

  Elsa ‘What was the answer?

  Paul ‘Finally? Anger. It’s anger. Anger makes me drink. Therefore I have to avoid anger. Another way of putting it. Emotion makes me drink.

  Elsa ‘So what do you do about that? Avoid emotion?

  Paul ‘Yes.

  Elsa ‘Avoid life.

  Elsa goes onto the attack, ignoring his protest.

  Paul ‘No.

  Elsa ‘You think it’s that simple? H-A-L-T! Hungry! Angry! Lonely! Tired! You think it’s that easy? You really sit there and buy that stuff, do you?

  Paul ‘It’s quite convenient, actually. Anyone you don’t like you can tell them to fuck off. You’re licensed. Anyone gets on my nerves I have the perfect reply. ‘I’m sorry. You’re endangering my recovery.’ That’s the advantage of it being a disease.

  Elsa ‘Is it a disease?

  Paul ‘Of course it is.

  Elsa ‘There’s no medical proof.

  Paul ‘It is. It’s an illness.

  Elsa ‘That’s what they tell you. That’s what they want you to believe. They love saying that. ‘It’s a disease and it’s incurable.’

  Paul ‘So it is.

  Elsa ‘It’s for life. For the rest of your life you’re an unexploded bomb.

  Paul looks at her warily.

  Is that what Clem thought?

  Paul ‘Clem?

  Elsa ‘Yes.

  Paul ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what Clem thought.

  Elsa ‘She blamed the drink.

  Paul ‘Yes, of course.

  Elsa ‘That’s what I hate. Clem sleeps with twelve men and she blames the drink. She doesn’t blame herself.

  Paul ‘Well …

  Elsa ‘You see, that’s what gets me. Paul, I’m telling you, you have to break out.

  Elsa impulsively gets up, animated now, excited as if a problem were solved.

  Look at you for goodness’ sake, you’re thirty, you write like a god …

  Paul ‘Don’t say you read poetry as well.

  Elsa ‘We read it together.

  Paul ‘My God! In bed?

  Elsa ‘Inevitably. Sometimes to the children.

  Paul ‘Stop.

  Elsa ‘This Too Shall Pass.

  Paul ‘I’m a poet. One reader’s an epiphany. Find two and you hang out the flags.

  But Elsa is not deflected.

  Elsa ‘Paul, look at yourself objectively. See yourself from the outside. You’re young, you’re talented, you’re good-looking. Analyse. What exactly is this problem of yours?

  Paul ‘‘Analyse’! You sound like h
im.

  Elsa ‘Socio-economically, you, Paul, belong to the world’s most privileged group.

  Paul ‘I don’t have a fucking penny!

  Elsa ‘Paul, you’re an elective intellectual who doesn’t have to work in the fields.

  Paul ‘Now you sound even more like him.

  Elsa ‘You enjoy the company of rich women.

  Paul ‘Do I?

  Elsa ‘You get to listen to rich women rustling their stockings. Paul, please tell me, just what exactly is your problem meant to be?

  Paul picks moodily at the arm of his chair.

  Paul ‘You don’t know. You know nothing of what went on in my life.

  Elsa ‘You lost a girl. That’s all.

  Paul ‘I lost the ‘girl’, as you call her, because of a habit I had, which was that I could not walk past a glass of whisky at fifty yards without wanting to drink it. No. Correction. Without drinking it. And then the rest of the bottle. Drink humiliates you and then it kills you!

  Elsa ‘Do you really believe that was the problem?

  Paul ‘Believe it? I know it. I was drunk for ten years!

  Elsa just looks at him, unrelenting.

  Elsa ‘Paul, not everything that happens is always your fault.

  Paul ‘I didn’t say it was!

  Elsa ‘No, you didn’t. But I look at you and I know you. I was you, remember? I was twenty-five, an idiot, and coked out of my head. ‘I’m not a stranger to self-hatred.’ Remember?

  Paul ‘I don’t know what you’re saying!

  Elsa ‘Yes you do. That’s what’s interesting. In your heart you do.

  Elsa is clear, as if she has just understood something.

  Elsa ‘Why do you think Clem slept around?

  Paul ‘No. You tell me. Why do you think she did?

  Elsa ‘Do you really want to know?

  Paul ‘Yes.

  Elsa ‘It’ll come as bad news.

  Paul ‘Break the news.

  Elsa ‘Really?

  Paul ‘I can take it. I promise. Please. I can take it.

  Elsa pauses a moment to take aim.

  Elsa ‘Clem slept with other men because that was her choice.

  Paul ‘No!