HESTER
You could always take a taxi. And come back later, both of you, to pick up the car and tell me all about your evening.
HAROLD
But are you going to keep me company? Another sherry?
HESTER
Yes, please, darling. (Quickly) Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Mere slip of the tongue. (Pause) And then I shouldn’t have drawn attention to it, should I? We could’ve pretended it hadn’t happened.
HAROLD busies himself pouring her sherry. Non-committal smile.
HESTER
(Cont) No—how absurd! Why shouldn’t a mother-in-law call her only son-in-law ‘darling’? Isn’t he one of the family? Indeed, isn’t it a mother-in-law’s prerogative to be able to flirt a little? Especially, of course, when he’s such a very handsome son-in-law. (HAROLD, embarrassed again, hands her her drink) Thank you…darling.
HAROLD
That’s all right.
HESTER
As a matter of fact I never realized, until this evening, that you were actually so handsome. Which is possibly just as well. Otherwise I might have found myself a fraction jealous of my own daughter. (Pause) What it was, I think—you lacked the animation. I hadn’t seen you animated before. (Pause) Indeed, I never realized several things until this evening.
HAROLD
(Curious—flattered—and, indeed, something rather more) Such as?
HESTER
Such as—let me see, now—you don’t like circuses.
HAROLD
Which makes us even. That’s something I’ve also found out about you.
HESTER
Ah, but I’m a lot more complex than you are. I think I liked them slightly more.
HAROLD
What depth of character!
HESTER
You see, I loved the horses. I was always quite mad on horses. And then I have a daughter who…well, I thought, “When she’s old enough we’ll have such fun, we’ll go riding together, she can even have her own pony!” And then what happens? The unnatural child is scared silly of the poor beasts. Would you believe it? It’s as much of a myth, perhaps, about girls and horses as it is about boys and circuses. (Pause) Also, I’ve discovered that you were always wanting to run away but that you had nowhere to run to. Now, that was absolutely awful. Lonely, lost; romantic, striving. How I would have felt for you, how I would have longed to bring you comfort—to reach out and clasp that homeless, questing hand! Also I’ve discovered…But no. Now it’s your turn. Perhaps I’ve robbed you of your powers of speech?
HAROLD
You…you say that you enjoy riding?
HESTER
Riding? It’s my very favourite sport.
HAROLD
That’s incredible.
HESTER
Don’t tell me that you, too…?
HAROLD
Oh, yes! Yes! How often do you go? Where do you go?
HESTER
Well, I haven’t been for years. No one to go with. But I used to ride a lot at Radlett and then, too, there’s a stable near Moor Park, and—
HAROLD
I haven’t ridden for years, either. Hester, sometime couldn’t we ride together? Doing things alone is never half so good.
HESTER
Because you’ve no one to keep you up to scratch, no one to laugh with!
HAROLD
No one to compete with! (They laugh) You’ve been quite a revelation, too.
HESTER
I have?
HAROLD
Yes, do you know, I didn’t even want to come here tonight? I tried to persuade Flora to meet me in the West End. But she insisted…and it looked as if she might begin to sulk.
HESTER
Flora’s always been a little spoilt. That’s what comes of being so pretty.
HAROLD
Yes…How can one be so wrong about people?
HESTER
You’re right. I’ll never again put my trust in first impressions.
HAROLD
Did you know, that was the original title of Pride and Prejudice?
HESTER
But I would never have expected you to. Not, that is, until tonight.
HAROLD
Still waters…
HESTER
The strong and silent type.
HAROLD
He who walks alone…I’m sounding smug but it’s true. I don’t have many friends. (Suddenly) May I pour myself another drink?
HESTER
Harold, do you think you should?
HAROLD
To celebrate friendship.
HESTER
Of course! Then why not? Live dangerously! (HAROLD pours more whisky) But you will phone for a taxi? (He nods) And you will try not to fall asleep in the theatre? That wouldn’t be fair on Flora.
HAROLD
Oh, I can tell you—not a faint chance of my falling asleep!
Door opens. FLORA comes in, wrapped in bath towel and holding her sherry glass.
FLORA
Just to let you know I’m on my way. It hasn’t been too painful, has it? (Looking from one to the other)
HESTER
We are doing our very utmost to survive.
HAROLD
Lonely, lost and striving.
HESTER
With elephants a somewhat unexpected threat.
FLORA
Elephants? What on earth are the two of you talking about?
HAROLD
Be good, little girl, and I might enlighten you later. But for the moment why don’t you just run along and dress? Before we find we’ve missed not only the overture but most of the first act.
FLORA
All right, darling. But can I have a tiny refill for this? Or—better still—not such a tiny one.
HAROLD
(In a low voice, to FLORA) As the actress said to the bishop.
FLORA
(With anxious glance at HESTER, who is again at the radiogram) Harry! Darling! Shhh!
HESTER
(Turning; wanting to share in the joke) What’s that?
FLORA
Nothing, Mummy. Nothing.
HESTER
(Disappointed; even faint hint of resentment) Oh? I thought one of you said something amusing.
HAROLD
I made a very feeble joke. I was just being infantile. Also, it was rude. (He pours the sherry)
FLORA
And not in character. What have you done to him?
HESTER
(All resentment clearing) Ah…
FLORA
As a matter of fact I thought I heard the pair of you laughing a short while ago. And more than once. Was it you? Or was it the people in the next flat?
HESTER
Oh, it must have been the people in the next flat. Laughter? In here? Unthinkable. I shall complain to the management.
FLORA
(Pleased; puzzled) What have you been up to?
HAROLD
Now, then! Just take your drink and run away and get decent. There’s a good girl. (She’s about to go, still amused and somewhat baffled, when inconsistently he stops her) But first…a toast!
FLORA
Oh, nice. What to?
HAROLD
I don’t know. To a pleasant evening. And a happy life. To the three of us. (They all raise their glasses) To us! To friendship!
FLORA
To us! To friendship! (Pause) Friendship?
HESTER
To love and friendship. To love! To all of us!
FLORA
Ah, yes. That’s better.
The three of them drink solemnly.
The curtain falls on Act One.
ACT TWO
ELLEN and TONY, as before.
ELLEN
And of course it just went on from there. Whoosh! Your grandmother and your father had fallen in love. And that evening saw the start of an affair that would last four years.
TONY
I don’t believe it! Gran!
My father! For God’s sake, Ellen—she was nearly thirty years older than him.
ELLEN
She was fifty-three. Some women in their fifties can be more attractive than they’ve ever been. Look at Joan Collins.
TONY
Gran was never Joan Collins.
ELLEN
No, she was far classier. And more subtle. I mean, more subtle than Alexis. But in her own way she was equally ambitious. She knew what she wanted. (Stands—and sings) “Whatever Hester wants…Hester gets…and little man, little Hester…wants you!” I used to do a fairly decent tango in my day; but never—that I can remember—with a rose in my mouth. The things one misses! Thés dançants, before the war. I hear they’re coming back…I still had certain aspirations then.
She has plucked a rose out of Hester’s flower arrangement; she now inspects it for thorns—then puts it between her teeth and tangoes flamboyantly across the room. TONY, also standing, watches. A bit impatiently. When she has finished, he doesn’t clap.
TONY
But my father. He wasn’t attracted by older women. I can remember he told me that.
ELLEN
(Thrusting the rose back in its vase) Probably made rather a point of it, too. His second marriage, by all accounts, has turned out fairly well. Isn’t she about ten years older? I haven’t met her.
TONY
(Smiles, reluctantly) All right. You win.
ELLEN
And in psychology-speke, mightn’t he even have been looking for a new mother? It seems that, previously, he hadn’t done any too well in that department.
TONY
(By now they’ve sat down) But Ellen. How do you know all this? Are you sure that you’re not simply…?
ELLEN
Making it up? Taking a belated revenge because your grandmother and I have never quite…
TONY
No, not making it up. Of course not. But…but…perhaps allowing your imagination…Misconstruing things…
ELLEN
I know all this because I was told.
TONY
Whom by? And whoever it was…how could they have known about it any more than you? (Pause; ELLEN holds his gaze) No, I don’t believe it!…Gran?
ELLEN
Gran.
TONY
But why? (Helplessly) When?
ELLEN
When? Fairly near the start. Certainly within the first few months. Why? Because we’d just had words and she was putting me in my place. I’d said my life was arid and she’d told me, in effect, I had no one to blame but myself. Probably true—but, still, it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. So I shot back that I couldn’t see her own life was any the less arid. And that’s when it all came out. With no room at all for misconstruction. She told me how wonderful your father’s lovemaking was and how it made her feel young again, and alive, and unmistakably needed.
TONY
(Pause) But…lovemaking? Remember that when Gran was young ‘making love’ didn’t mean the same as it does today.
ELLEN says nothing. TONY proceeds, quite tonelessly.
TONY
And anyway. Mum’s given me the impression—more than once, in fact—that my father’s lovemaking was…well, quite a long way from being wonderful.
ELLEN
And she’s the one whom I’d definitely prefer to believe. All this emphasis on sex nowadays: how it can make the earth move; how you’ve never known what life is until you’ve known what love is. Well, who was it who said the position was ridiculous and the pastime overrated?
TONY
I think it was Somerset Maugham. Maybe not the world’s greatest authority. (Aware that he’s been tactless) But he could, actually, have got it right.
ELLEN
At all events, not an exponent of one-upmanship—well, not in this case, anyway. (Pause) Of course, one mustn’t be too hard upon your gran. She was angry when it all spilled out; otherwise it wouldn’t have happened. I’d touched her on the raw.
TONY
Did she ever mention it again?
ELLEN
How do you think I know it lasted four years? The next time it came up was only a day or two later; she rang me to apologize. And if I were really so unhappy with my life, she suggested, couldn’t we maybe talk about it—try to find some way of improving matters? You know how she’s always setting out to help. Just look at all the blind people she has here to meals; how she’s constantly taking one or other of them to the West End, by bus, to make their shopping easier and to treat them to a nice tea. I certainly couldn’t cope with any of that and I’m three years younger than she is. And you know the way someone only needs to send out some kind of SOS and she’ll go to unbelievable lengths to try to set things right. Without any air of sacrifice or condescension…just with her usual good humour and an instinctive feel for what’s going to put them at their ease…(Pause) Where was I, before I started on all this?
TONY
Gran rang to apologize.
ELLEN
Oh, yes. Well, I came round here and we chatted and she gave me all sorts of hopefully useful advice but…Anyway, after we’d done what we could with my situation, we again got round to the subject of herself and Harold. What did I feel she ought to do? Well, my suggestions to her were no more helpful than hers to me, but by the end of that couple of hours I found I’d become her confidante - which wasn’t at all what I’d have wanted—and yet I found it flattering too…None of your other great-aunts, so far as I knew, ever had the least inkling of what was going on.
TONY
And my mother?
ELLEN
During those four years? Not the shred of an idea. Well, who would have? Naturally, there must have been moments when she felt excluded—what with the horse-riding and the concerts and the various other things which Hester and Harold had found they had in common. Not that Hester would ever have meant to exclude her—not consciously. But during that time I felt extremely sorry for your mama. Yet…what could I do? And in any case, even without Hester, that marriage was doomed. In a way, absurd though this sounds, those were probably its four best years.
TONY
And why did it finish? The…affair.
ELLEN
I think it just sort of fizzled out. They went on being good friends—respecting one another. But apparently the sexual side of it…it simply waned. Isn’t that what often happens?
TONY
Between a man in his twenties and a woman in her fifties? I haven’t a clue. (Pause) And so my mother never realized?
ELLEN
Oh, yes…eventually. Some six years later she found out. Don’t ask me how. But that, you see, was the reason for the divorce—not this guff about your father demanding an abortion.
TONY
You mean, he didn’t want one?
ELLEN
He might have suggested it—halfheartedly. It’s true he didn’t want children. But he certainly wouldn’t have issued an ultimatum. He had too strong a sense of responsibility.
TONY
Sounds like it!
ELLEN
Well, the affair with your grandmother was a coup de foudre. It caught him off-balance and he felt powerless against it. It made him step completely out of character. Or, at least, appeared to.
TONY
(Pause) So then my mother cited my grandmother as co-respondent? The papers must have had a field day.
ELLEN
Certainly they would have had. But she filed only for cruelty. Not for adultery.
TONY
Oh, surprise, surprise. Biddable to the end.
ELLEN
Tony, that’s unfair! (Pause) For although it is true, it’s only a part of the truth. I’m sure there was also consideration for the feelings of others.
TONY
As well as her own.
ELLEN
You mustn’t blame your mother for this.
TONY
I know. I know. (Almost a wail) It’s just that she was so
weak!
ELLEN
(Regarding him steadily, yet not commenting on this) She changed after she found out. All her joie de vivre vanished. All her vitality. Not only was it the shock—and one can easily imagine just what a shock! But I think in some way she felt guilty. Exactly as you do now—after what has happened here this afternoon. And with every bit as little reason.
TONY
No. Thirty years ago she wasn’t the one who set all that business in motion. Whereas this afternoon—
ELLEN
She may have felt she did…by being too dull, by being too uneducated. Too uninteresting.
HESTER enters: subdued and stony-faced. TONY stands up.
HESTER
(To TONY) We’ve been talking, your mother and I. And we’ve come to a decision.
TONY
(Cold) Oh, yes?
HESTER
How much is your university grant?
TONY
Why?
HESTER
Would you answer me, please.
TONY
Roughly two thousand a year.
HESTER
And what does your father have to pay towards it?
TONY
About half.
HESTER
Yes, that’s what your mother thought. Very well. Here’s our plan. You can take it or leave it but if you decide not to take it you’ll be an even greater fool than I think you.
ELLEN
(To HESTER) My goodness. What a career you could have had in selling.
HESTER
(Ignoring her) You told us you’d been offered a job which paid you a hundred pounds per week—five thousand a year. Now…if you go on at university for the next two years I shall give you three thousand pounds for each. I can ill afford it and it will naturally make a big difference to what I’ll be able to leave your mother but we are both resigned to that. I have already tried to telephone your father. Perhaps he can increase his contribution, though I haven’t the least idea what his reaction to that is likely to be—horror and outrage, without the slightest doubt! Unhappily he had just that minute left his office. Be that as it may, you’ll have your five thousand a year—so that you can support this woman and her two children in a style far richer than they’ve been accustomed to, and at the same time fulfil the hopes which your mother and I have always placed in you. What do you say?
TONY
No.
HESTER
No?
TONY
(Softer tone) Thank you. Obviously I appreciate your generosity—and self-sacrifice—and good intentions. Both of you. But, no, I can’t do it.
Father of the Man Page 29