Curtain
Act Three
Two weeks later.
MICK lying on the floor, down left, his head resting on the rolled carpet, looking up at the ceiling.
DAVIES is sitting in the chair, holding his pipe. He is wearing the smoking jacket. It is afternoon.
Silence.
DAVIES. I got a feeling he's done something to them cracks.
Pause.
See, there's been plenty of rain in the last week, but it ain't been dripping into the bucket.
Pause.
He must have tarred it over up there.
Pause.
There was someone walking about on the roof the other night. It must have been him.
Pause.
But I got a feeling he's tarred it over on the roof up there.
Ain't said a word to me about it. Don't say a word to me.
Pause.
He don't answer me when I talk to him.
He lights a match, holds it to his pipe, and blows it.
He don't give me no knife!
Pause.
He don't give me no knife to cut my bread.
Pause.
How can I cut a loaf of bread without no knife?
Pause.
It's an impossibility.
Pause.
MICK. You've got a knife.
DAVIES. What?
MICK. You've got a knife.
DAVIES. I got a knife, sure I got a knife, but how do you expect me to cut a good loaf of bread with that? That's not a bread-knife. It's nothing to do with cutting bread. I picked it up somewhere. I don't know where it's been, do I? No, what I want—
MICK. I know what you want.
Pause. DAVIES rises and goes to the gas stove.
DAVIES. What about this gas stove? He tells me it's not connected. How do I know it's not connected? Here I am, I'm sleeping right with it, I wake up in the middle of the night, I'm looking right into the oven, man! It's right next to my face, how do I know, I could be lying there in bed, it might blow up, it might do me harm!
Pause.
But he don't seem to take any notice of what I say to him. I told him the other day, see, I told him about them Blacks, about them Blacks coming up from next door, and using the lavatory. I told him, it was all dirty in there, all the banisters were dirty, they were black, all the lavatory was black. But what did he do? He's supposed to be in charge of it here, he had nothing to say, he hadn't got a word to say.
Pause.
Couple of weeks ago . . . he sat there, he give me a long chat . . . about a couple of weeks ago. A long chat he give me. Since then he ain't said hardly a word. He went on talking there . . . I don't know what he was . . . he wasn't looking at me, he wasn't talking to me, he don't care about me. He was talking to himself! That's all he worries about. I mean, you come up to me, you ask my advice, he wouldn't never do a thing like that. I mean, we don't have any conversation, you see? You can't live in the same room with someone who . . . who don't have any conversation with you.
Pause.
I just can't get the hang of him.
Pause.
You and me, we could get this place going.
MICK (ruminatively). Yes, you're quite right. Look what I could do with this place.
Pause.
I could turn this place into a penthouse. For instance . . . this room. This room you could have as the kitchen. Right size, nice window, sun comes in. I'd have . . . I'd have teal-blue, copper and parchment linoleum squares. I'd have those colours re-echoed in the walls. I'd offset the kitchen units with charcoal-grey worktops. Plenty of room for cupboards for the crockery. We'd have a small wall cupboard, a large wall cupboard, a corner wall cupboard with revolving shelves. You wouldn't be short of cupboards. You could put the dining-room across the landing, see? Yes. Venetian blinds on the window, cork floor, cork tiles. You could have an off-white pile linen rug, a table in . . . in afromosia teak veneer, sideboard with matt black drawers, curved chairs with cushioned seats, armchairs in oatmeal tweed, a beech frame settee with a woven sea-grass seat, white-topped heat-resistant coffee table, white tile surround. Yes. Then the bedroom. What's a bedroom? It's a retreat. It's a place to go for rest and peace. So you want quiet decoration. The lighting functional. Furniture . . . mahogany and rosewood. Deep azure-blue carpet, unglazed blue and white curtains, a bedspread with a pattern of small blue roses on a white ground, dressing-table with a lift-up top containing a plastic tray, table lamp of white raffia . . . (MICK sits up.) it wouldn't be a flat it'd be a palace.
DAVIES. I'd say it would, man.
MICK. A palace.
DAVIES. Who would live there?
MICK. I would. My brother and me.
Pause.
DAVIES. What about me?
MICK (quietly). All this junk here, it's no good to anyone. It's just a lot of old iron, that's all. Clobber. You couldn't make a home out of this. There's no way you could arrange it. It's junk. He could never sell it, either, he wouldn't get tuppence for it.
Pause.
Junk.
Pause.
But he doesn't seem to be interested in what I got in mind, that's the trouble. Why don't you have a chat with him, see if he's interested?
DAVIES. Me?
MICK. Yes. You're a friend of his.
DAVIES. He's no friend of mine.
MICK. You're living in the same room with him, en't you?
DAVIES. He's no friend of mine. You don't know where you are with him. I mean, with a bloke like you, you know where you are.
MICK looks at him.
I mean, you get your own ways, I'm not saying you ain't got your own ways, anyone can see that. You may have some funny ways, but that's the same with all of us, but with him it's different, see? I mean at least with you, the thing with you is you're . . .
MICK. Straightforward.
DAVIES. That's it, you're straightforward.
MICK. Yes.
DAVIES. But with him, you don't know what he's up to half the time!
MICK. Uh.
DAVIES. He's got no feelings!
Pause.
See, what I need is a clock! I need a clock to tell the time! How can I tell the time without a clock? I can't do it! I said to him, I said, look here, what about getting in a clock, so's I can tell what time it is? I mean, if you can't tell what time you're at you don't know where you are, you understand my meaning? See, what I got to do now, if I'm walking about outside, I got to get my eye on a clock, and keep the time in my head for when I come in. But that's no good, I mean I'm not in here five minutes and I forgotten it. I forgotten what time it was!
DAVIES walks up and down the room.
Look at it this way. If I don't feel well I have a bit of a lay down, then, when I wake up, I don't know what time it is to go and have a cup of tea! You see, it's not so bad when I'm coming in. I can see the clock on the corner, the moment I'm stepping into the house I know what the time is, but when I'm in! It's when I'm in . . . that I haven't the foggiest idea what time it is!
Pause.
No, what I need is a clock in here, in this room, and then I stand a bit of a chance. But he don't give me one.
DAVIES sits in the chair.
He wakes me up! He wakes me up in the middle of the night! Tells me I'm making noises! I tell you I've half a mind to give him a mouthful one of these days.
MICK. He don't let you sleep?
DAVIES. He don't let me sleep! He wakes me up!
MICK. That's terrible.
DAVIES. I been plenty of other places. They always let me sleep. It's the same the whole world over. Except here.
MICK. Sleep's essential. I've always said that.
DAVIES. You're right, it's essential. I get up in the morning, I'm worn out! I got business to see to. I got to move myself, I got to sort myself out, I got to get fixed up. But when I wake up in the morning, I ain't got no energy in me. And on top of that I ain't got no clock.
MICK. Yes.
; DAVIES (standing, moving). He goes out, I don't know where he goes to, where's he go, he never tells me. We used to have a bit of a chat, not any more. I never see him, he goes out, he comes in late, next thing I know he's shoving me about in the middle of the night.
Pause.
Listen! I wake up in the morning . . . I wake up in the morning and he's smiling at me! He's standing there, looking at me, smiling! I can see him, you see, I can see him through the blanket. He puts on his coat, he turns himself round, he looks down at my bed, there's a smile on his face! What the hell's he smiling at? What he don't know is that I'm watching him through that blanket. He don't know that! He don't know I can see him, he thinks I'm asleep, but I got my eye on him all the time through the blanket, see? But he don't know that! He just looks at me and he smiles, but he don't know that I can see him doing it!
Pause.
(Bending, close to MICK.) No, what you want to do, you want to speak to him, see? I got . . . I got that worked out. You want to tell him . . . that we got ideas for this place, we could build it up, we could get it started. You see, I could decorate it out for you, I could give you a hand in doing it . . . between us.
Pause.
Where do you live now, then?
MICK. Me? Oh, I've got a little place. Not bad. Everything laid on. You must come up and have a drink some time. Listen to some Tchaikovsky.
DAVIES. No, you see, you're the bloke who wants to talk to him. I mean, you're his brother.
Pause.
MICK. Yes . . . maybe I will.
A door bangs.
MICK rises, goes to the door and exits.
DAVIES. Where you going? This is him!
Silence.
DAVIES stands, then goes to the window and looks out.
ASTON enters. He is carrying a paper bag. He takes off his overcoat, opens the bag and takes out a pair of shoes.
ASTON. Pair of shoes.
DAVIES (turning). What?
ASTON. I picked them up. Try them.
DAVIES. Shoes? What sort?
ASTON. They might do you.
DAVIES comes down stage, takes off his sandals and tries the shoes on. He walks about, waggling his feet, bends, and presses the leather.
DAVIES. No, they're not right.
ASTON. Aren't they?
DAVIES. No, they don't fit.
ASTON. Mmnn.
Pause.
DAVIES. Well, I'll tell you what, they might do . . . until I get another pair.
Pause.
Where's the laces?
ASTON. No laces.
DAVIES. I can't wear them without laces.
ASTON. I just got the shoes.
DAVIES. Well now, look that puts the lid on it, don't it? I mean, you couldn't keep these shoes on right without a pair of laces. The only way to keep a pair of shoes on, if you haven't got no laces, is to tighten the foot, see? Walk about with a tight foot, see? Well, that's no good for the foot. Puts a bad strain on the foot. If you can do the shoes up proper there's less chance of you getting a strain.
ASTON goes round to the top of his bed.
ASTON. I might have some somewhere.
DAVIES. You see what I'm getting at?
Pause.
ASTON. Here's some. (He hands them to DAVIES.)
DAVIES. These are brown.
ASTON. That's all I got.
DAVIES. These shoes are black.
ASTON does not answer.
Well, they can do, anyway, until I get another pair.
DAVIES sits in the chair and begins to lace his shoes.
Maybe they'll get me down to Sidcup tomorrow. If I get down there I'll be able to sort myself out.
Pause.
I've been offered a good job. Man has offered it to me, he's . . . he's got plenty of ideas. He's got a bit of a future. But they want my papers, you see, they want my references. I'd have to get down to Sidcup before I could get hold of them. That's where they are, see. Trouble is, getting there. That's my problem. The weather's dead against it.
ASTON quietly exits, unnoticed.
Don't know as these shoes'll be much good. It's a hard road, I been down there before. Coming the other way, like. Last time I left there, it was . . . last time . . . getting on a while back . . . the road was bad, the rain was coming down, lucky I didn't die there on the road, but I got here, I kept going, all along . . . yes . . . I kept going all along. But all the same, I can't go on like this, what I got to do, I got to get back there, find this man—
He turns and looks about the room.
Christ! That bastard, he ain't even listening to me!
BLACKOUT.
DIM LIGHT THROUGH THE WINDOW.
It is night. ASTON and DAVIES are in bed, DAVIES groaning. ASTON sits up, gets out of bed, switches on the light, goes over to DAVIES and shakes him.
ASTON. Hey, stop it, will you? I can't sleep.
DAVIES. What? What? What's going on?
ASTON. You're making noises.
DAVIES. I'm an old man, what do you expect me to do, stop breathing?
ASTON. You're making noises.
DAVIES. What do you expect me to do, stop breathing?
ASTON goes to his bed, and puts on his trousers.
ASTON. I'll get a bit of air.
DAVIES. What do you expect me to do? I tell you, mate, I'm not surprised they took you in. Waking an old man up in the middle of the night, you must be off your nut! Giving me bad dreams, who's responsible, then, for me having bad dreams? If you wouldn't keep mucking me about I wouldn't make no noises! How do you expect me to sleep peaceful when you keep poking me all the time? What do you want me to do, stop breathing?
He throws the cover off and gets out of bed, wearing his vest, waistcoat and trousers.
It's getting so freezing in here I have to keep my trousers on to go to bed. I never done that before in my life. But that's what I got to do here. Just because you won't put in any bleeding heating! I've had just about enough with you mucking me about. I've seen better days than you have, man. Nobody ever got me inside one of them places, anyway. I'm a sane man! So don't you start mucking me about. I'll be all right as long as you keep your place. Just you keep your place, that's all. Because I can tell you, your brother's got his eye on you. He knows all about you. I got a friend there, don't you worry about that. I got a true pal there. Treating me like dirt! Why'd you invite me in here in the first place if you was going to treat me like this? You think you're better than me you got another think coming. I know enough. They had you inside one of them places before, they can have you inside again. Your brother's got his eye on you! They can put the pincers on your head again, man! They can have them on again! Any time. All they got to do is get the word. They'd carry you in there, boy. They'd come here and pick you up and carry you in! They'd keep you fixed! They'd put them pincers on your head, they'd have you fixed! They'd take one look at all this junk I got to sleep with they'd know you were a creamer. That was the greatest mistake they made, you take my tip, letting you get out of that place. Nobody knows what you're at, you go out you come in, nobody knows what you're at! Well, nobody messes me about for long. You think I'm going to do your dirty work? Haaaaahhhhh! You better think again! You want me to do all the dirty work all up and down them stairs just so I can sleep in this lousy filthy hole every night? Not me, boy. Not for you boy. You don't know what you're doing half the time. You're up the creek! You're half off! You can tell it by looking at you. Who ever saw you slip me a few bob? Treating me like a bloody animal! I never been inside a nuthouse!
ASTON makes a slight move towards him. DAVIES takes his knife from his back pocket.
Don't come nothing with me, mate. I got this here. I used it. I used it. Don't come it with me.
A pause. They stare at each other.
Complete Works, Volume II Page 6