Silence
LAMBsits.
The red light begins to flick on and off.
LAMB looks up, stares at it.
We hear the loud click of a switch from the control room.
The microphone in the room has been switched off.
The red light gradually grows in strength, until it consumes the room.
LAMB sits still.
Curtain
Act Two
ROOTE’S office. Night.
ROOTE is at his desk, examining some papers.
LUSH is at the window, looking out.
ROOTE (without looking up)
What are you looking at, Lush?
LUSH
The yard, sir.
ROOTE
Anyone about?
LUSH
Not a soul.
ROOTE
What’s the weather like?
LUSH
The snow has turned to slush.
ROOTE
Ah.
Pause
Has the wind got up?
LUSH
No. No wind at all.
ROOTE turns a page.
ROOTE (muttering)
No wind, eh? (He examines the page, then slams it onto the desk.) I can’t read a word of this! It’s indecipherable. What’s the matter with this man Hogg? Why can’t he type his reports out like everyone else? I can’t read this writing. It’s unreadable.
LUSH
His typewriter’s out of action, sir.
ROOTE
What’s the matter with it?
LUSH
It seems to have got stuck, sir.
ROOTE
Stuck?
LUSH
It just won’t move at all.
ROOTE
Well, there must be an obstacle somewhere, or something.
LUSH
It looked like rust to me.
ROOTE
Rust? What are you talking about? It’s a brand new typewriter. It’s a Ministry typewriter. We had a whole cartload sent down from the Ministry – when was it? – a couple of months ago. Brand new. I’ve still got the invoice somewhere. Rust. Never heard such rubbish. Anyway, I can’t sit here all night trying to work this out. (He puts the papers in a drawer, goes to the drinks cabinet, takes out a bottle of whisky and pours himself a drink.) I’ve had enough this week. I never leave this desk, do you know that? Sun up to sundown. Day in day out. It’s the price you have to pay for being in command, for being responsible for the whole shoot. As I am. The whole damn shoot. (He drinks.)
LUSH walks to the cabinet, collects a glass and pours himself a drink.
LUSH
You do leave this desk quite often, though, don’t you, sir?
ROOTE
What?
LUSH
I say, in point of fact, you do leave this desk quite often, don’t you?
ROOTE
When?
LUSH
When you go and visit the patients, for instance.
ROOTE
That’s purely in the line of duty. It’s not relaxation. I meant relaxation. I wasn’t talking about the line of duty.
LUSH
Oh.
ROOTE
Anyway, I’ve given up visiting the patients. It’s not worth it.
A waste of energy.
LUSH
What an extraordinary thing to say, Mr Roote.
ROOTE
Don’t Mr Roote me.
LUSH
But I never expected to hear you say a thing like that, Mr Roote.
ROOTE
I said don’t Mr Roote me!
LUSH
But I always understood that you looked upon visits to the patients from the head of this establishment as one of the most important features in the running of this establishment … Mr. Roote.
ROOTE
Listen! I give you leeway. But don’t think I give you that much leeway.
LUSH
No, sir.
ROOTE
Don’t think I can’t squash you on a plate as easy as look at you.
LUSH
Yes, sir.
ROOTE
As easy as look at you, Lush.
LUSH
Quite, sir.
ROOTE
So don’t give me any more lip, you understand me? Otherwise you’re liable to find yourself in trouble.
LUSH
You know I harbour no illusions about my position, Colonel.
ROOTE
Don’t call me Colonel!
LUSH
But you were a Colonel once, weren’t you, Colonel?
ROOTE
I was. And a bloody good one too.
LUSH
If I may say so, you still possess considerable military bearing.
ROOTE
Really?
LUSH
Oh yes.
ROOTE
Well, it’s not surprising.
LUSH
And the ability to be always one thought ahead of the next man.
ROOTE
It’s a military characteristic.
LUSH
Really?
ROOTE
Oh yes. Of course, some of them aren’t very bright, I must admit.
LUSH
Who?
ROOTE
Military men.
LUSH
Really? I’m sorry to hear that.
ROOTE
Yes, some of them tend to let the side down. They’ve got no foresight, that’s what it is. They can’t think clearly. They’ve got no vision. Vision’s very important.
LUSH
You must have been quite a unique kind of man, sir, in your regiment.
ROOTE
Yes, well I … What do you mean?
LUSH
The age of the specialist is dead.
ROOTE
What?
LUSH
The age of the specialist is dead.
ROOTE
Oh. Dead. Yes.
LUSH
That’s why I say you must have been quite a unique kind of man, sir, in your regiment, being such an all-round man.
ROOTE
Yes, yes, there’s something in that.
He perches on the desk.
LUSH
I mean, not only are you a scientist, but you have literary ability, musical ability, knowledge of most schools of philosophy, philology, photography, anthropology, cosmology, theology, phytology, phytonomy, phytotomy –
ROOTE
Oh, no, no, not phytotomy.
LUSH
Not phytotomy?
ROOTE
I was always meaning to get round to phytotomy, of course, but … well, I’ve had so many other things to think about.
LUSH
Naturally.
ROOTE
But anyway, once you know something about phytonomy you’re halfway there.
LUSH
Halfway where, sir?
ROOTE
To phytotomy!
Pause
Give us a drink.
LUSH fills the glasses.
LUSH
Why have you given up visiting the patients?
ROOTE
I’ve given up, that’s all.
LUSH
But I thought you were getting results?
ROOTE (staring at him)
Cheers.
LUSH
Weren’t you getting results?
ROOTE (staring at him)
Drink your whisky.
LUSH
But surely you achieved results with one patient very recently. What was the number? 6459, I think.
ROOTE throws his whisky in LUSH’s face. LUSH wipes his face.
LUSH
Let me fill you up. (He takes ROOTE’s glass, pours, brings the glass to ROOTE, gives it to him.) Yes, quite a substantial result, I should have thought.
ROOTE throws his whisky in LUSH’s face. LUSH wipes his face. LUSH takes RO
OTE’s glass, pours, brings the glass to ROOTE, gives it to him.
But perhaps I’m thinking of 6457.
LUSH grabs ROOTE’s glass and holds it above his head, with his own. Slowly he lowers his own.
Cheers.
He drinks, and then gives ROOTE his glass.
ROOTE (taking the glass, in a low voice)
You’re neglecting to call me sir, Lush. You’re supposed to call me sir when you address me.
Pause
ROOTE suddenly takes off his jacket, hangs it on the back of his chair and sits.
God, the heat of this place. It’s damn hot, isn’t it? It’s like a crematorium in here. Why is it suddenly so hot?
LUSH
The snow has turned to slush, sir.
ROOTE
Has it?
LUSH
Very dangerous.
ROOTE
It’s a heatwave, that’s what it is. (A knock on the door.) Who is it?
Enter GIBBS.
Oh no, what is it? Business at this hour? You sit down to have a quiet drink and what happens?
GIBBS
I have something to report, sir.
ROOTE
What? (GIBBS looks at LUSH.) Oh, never mind about him! What is it?
GIBBS
I don’t approve of divulging official secrets to all and sundry, sir.
ROOTE
I know you don’t approve! I don’t approve! Nobody approves! But you’ve no alternative, have you?
GIBBS
Mr Lush could leave the room, sir.
ROOTE
Good God, what an impertinence! The man’s my guest, do you understand that? Which is more than you bloodywell are! I’ve never heard of such a thing in all my life. He barges in here and tells me to chuck my own guest out of the room. Who do you think you are?
Pause
(To LUSH .) He gets on my wick sometimes – doesn’t he you?
GIBBS
I … apologise, sir, if I have been presumptuous.
ROOTE
Well, what’s your business?
GIBBS
The father has been found.
ROOTE
No?
GIBBS
Found.
ROOTE (rising)
Found? So soon? In so short a space of time? Jiminy Cricket, that’s quick work, Gibbs! (He stands, shakes hands with GIBBS.) Absolutely first class! (He moves to LUSH.) What do you think of that, eh, for a bit of quick work?
LUSH
Remarkable.
ROOTE
You see the way I train my staff? Alacrity! First and foremost, alacrity! Get on with it, don’t muck about, don’t dither, pick your man and pin him to the wall. Let your nose do your thinking for you and you won’t go far wrong. That’s what we try to do here, cultivate the habit of split second decisions. Right? Right, Gibbs?
GIBBS
Quite, sir.
ROOTE
Right, Lush?
LUSH
Quite, sir.
ROOTE
And it never fails. I’m pleased with you, Gibbs. Who is he?
GIBBS
A man called Lamb, sir.
ROOTE
Never heard of him.
ROOTE sits, pours a drink and drinks.
LUSH
Lamb? Surely not Lorna Lamb? Lorna Lamb in the dispensary department?
ROOTE
A man, not a woman, you bloody fool!
LUSH
Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t quite … What exactly has this person done?
Pause
ROOTE
Tell him what this person has done, Mr Gibbs.
GIBBS
A child has been born to one of the patients. It was considered a matter of the first importance to locate the father. This has now been done.
ROOTE
Lamb? Who the hell’s Lamb? Do I know him?
GIBBS
I think it doubtful that you’ve ever met him, sir.
ROOTE
I don’t even know what he looks like. A rapist on my own staff and I don’t know what he looks like!
LUSH
Was it rape?
ROOTE
Of course it was rape. You don’t think that sort of thing happens by consent, do you?
GIBBS
He’s not a very important member of your staff, sir.
ROOTE
Well, if he’s not important how did he get into the patient’s room? You know as well as I do that only a very select handful of the personnel are allowed in the patients’ rooms. How did he get in?
GIBBS
He tests the locks, sir, of all the rooms in the building. Either this particular lock was … not locked, or he forced it.
ROOTE
It’s unbelievable, isn’t it, Lush, the things that go on?
LUSH
It almost is, sir.
ROOTE
The sabotage that goes on, under your very nose. Open the window. I’m suffocating. (LUSH opens the window.) Is that radiator hot?
LUSH bends to the radiator and touches it.
LUSH
Scalding, sir.
ROOTE
That’s why I’m so hot.
LUSH
The night is warm, Mr Roote. The snow has turned to slush.
ROOTE
That’s about the fifth time you’ve said the snow has turned to slush!
GIBBS
It’s quite true, sir. I noticed it myself.
ROOTE
I don’t care whether it’s true or not. I don’t like to have a thing repeated and repeated and repeated! Anyone would think I was slow on the uptake. The snow has turned to slush. I heard it. I understand it. That’s enough.
He pours a drink, drinks.
You think I’m past my job, do you? You think I’m a bit slow? Don’t you believe it. I’m as quick as a python.
LUSH
An adder.
ROOTE
What?
LUSH
An adder.
ROOTE
What do you mean, an adder?
GIBBS
Do you think I deserve a little tipple of whisky, sir?
ROOTE
Good God, Gibbs is being jocular. Did you hear that, Lush? He’s just made a pleasantry. Didn’t you, son? Oh, that’s better. I can feel a draught. See if you can turn that radiator off. If we can’t turn it off here we’ll have to get hold of Tubb and tell him to turn it off at the mains.
LUSH bends to the radiator.
Well?
LUSH
It won’t budge. It’s stiff.
ROOTE
It’ll have to be turned off at the mains.
LUSH
It’s a very cold building, sir, it’s perishing on the upper floors.
ROOTE
I tell you it’s too bloody hot and the damned heating’s got to go off! Who’s the boss here, for Christ’s sake, you or me?
LUSH
Not me.
ROOTE
I do ten times as much work as the whole lot of you put together. I deserve a bit of comfort, a bit of consideration. The heating will have to be turned off! Every single pipe of it. That’s what causes the laxity, the skiving, the inefficiency in this place. It’s overheated! Always has been. (To GIBBS.) What’s the matter with you, standing there like a tit in a trance? Tip the bottle, for the love of Mike. Deserved or undeserved.
GIBBS pours himself a glass of whisky.
What do you mean, you deserve it, anyway? You deserve nothing.
GIBBS
I meant for locating the father, sir.
ROOTE
You deserve nothing. Either of you. You’ve got a job to do. Do it. You won’t get any tulips from me. Come on, fill it up, we’ll drink a toast. Got yours, Lush?
LUSH
Just a minute.
LUSH pours a glass of whisky.
ROOTE (solemnly)
I’d like to drink a toast.
LUS
H
To whom, sir?
ROOTE
I’d like to drink a toast, gentlemen, to our glorious dead.
LUSH
Which ones are they, sir?
ROOTE
The chaps who died for us in the field of action.
LUSH
Oh yes.
ROOTE
The men who gave their lives so that we might live. Who sacrificed themselves so that we might continue. Who helped keep the world clean for the generations to come. The men who died in our name. Let us drink to them. After all, it’s Christmas. Couldn’t be more appropriate.
LUSH
My glass is ready, sir.
ROOTE
Is yours ready, Gibbs?
GIBBS
It is.
ROOTE
Gentlemen, I give you a toast. To our glorious dead. (Rising.)
GIBBS and LUSH
To our glorious dead.
They drink.
ROOTE
A rapist on my own staff and I don’t know what he looks like. It’s ridiculous. What sort of man is he?
GIBBS
Lamb, sir? Nondescript.
ROOTE
Tall?
GIBBS
No, sir. Small.
LUSH
Tall.
GIBBS
Small.
Pause
ROOTE
Do you know him, Lush?
LUSH
I’ve seen him.
ROOTE
Is he fat?
GIBBS
Thin, sir.
LUSH
Fat.
GIBBS
Thin.
Pause
ROOTE
Brown eyes?
GIBBS
Blue, sir.
LUSH
Brown.
GIBBS
Blue.
Pause
ROOTE
Curly hair?
GIBBS and LUSH eye each other.
LUSH
Straight, sir.
GIBBS
Curly.
LUSH
Straight.
Pause
ROOTE
What colour teeth?
GIBBS
Lemon, sir.
LUSH
Nigger.
GIBBS
Lemon.
LUSH
Nigger.
Pause
ROOTE
Any special peculiarities?
GIBBS
None.
LUSH
One.
GIBBS
None.
Pause
ROOTE
These descriptions don’t tally. Next time bring me a photograph. Or you’ve got a cine-camera. You could devote a halfhour film to the man. A documentary – for educational purposes. It’s still stifling in here. We’ll have to get hold of Tubb. It’s uncommonly warm in here for this time of the year, isn’t it?
Harold Pinter Plays 1 Page 19