Three Plays

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Three Plays Page 8

by Alan Ayckbourn


  RONALD: Oh. Hallo there.

  EVA: All right?

  RONALD: Oh, yes. [He switches off the radio]

  EVA: Are you warm enough in here?

  RONALD: Oh, yes. It’s fine in here. Well, not too bad.

  EVA: The rest of the house is freezing. I don’t envy you going to bed.

  RONALD: Her room’s all right though, is it?

  EVA: Oh, she’s got three electric fires blazing away.

  RONALD: My God. That’ll be the second power station I’ve paid for this winter.

  EVA: She seems to be rather dug in up there. Almost in a state of hibernation. Doesn’t she ever come out?

  RONALD: Not if she can help it. Heating system went on the blink, you see – usual thing and we had a few frosty words over it and – the outcome was, she said she wasn’t setting foot outside her room until I got it fixed.

  EVA: [putting on a pair of gloves] Well, how long’s it been like this?

  RONALD: [vaguely] Oh, I don’t know. Two or three weeks, I suppose.

  EVA: Well, that’s disgusting. Can’t you get the men round to fix it?

  RONALD: Yes, yes. I have phoned them several times. But I’ve been a bit unlucky up to now. They always seem to be at lunch …

  EVA: [taking off her coat and putting it on the back of a chair] Well, I wouldn’t put up with it. I’d scream the place down till Geoffrey got it fixed. [She hunts in the cupboards]

  RONALD: Yes, we’ve had a packet of trouble with this central heating. Always goes on the blink. Either the day before Christmas, the day before Easter or the day before Whitsun. Always seems to manage it. Don’t understand the principle it works on but whatever it is, seems to be very closely tied in with the Church calendar. [He laughs] Can I help you at all?

  EVA: She said she’d like a sandwich. [She puts a plate, knife, bread and a pot of peanut butter on a bread board]

  RONALD: [looking at his watch] Oh, yes. She’s about due for a sandwich.

  EVA: I’m looking for the butter.

  RONALD: Oh, don’t you bother to do that, I’ll…

  EVA: It’s all right. Where do you keep your butter?

  RONALD: Do you know, that’s very interesting. I have absolutely no idea. A closely guarded secret kept by Mrs Minns. I suppose we could hazard a guess. Now then, butter. Try the fridge.

  EVA: Fridge?

  RONALD: Keeps it soft. It’s warmer in there than it is outside.

  EVA: [looking in the fridge] Right first time. [She sets about making a sandwich, taking off one glove]

  RONALD: What’s she want? Peanut butter?

  EVA: Apparently.

  RONALD: Good grief. She’s got an absolute craving for that stuff lately. That and cheese footballs. All most alarming. She’s not up there knitting little blue bootees, by any chance?

  EVA: Not that I noticed.

  RONALD: Thank God for that.

  EVA: She looks a lot better than when I last saw her, anyway.

  RONALD: Really? Yes, yes. Well, she got a bit overtired, I think. Principally.

  EVA: Geoff’ll be here in a minute to pick me up. I’ll get out of your way. I just heard Marion was – I hope you didn’t mind …

  RONALD: No, very good of you to look round. Sure she appreciated it. She doesn’t get many visitors. Lottie Potter looked in briefly. That set her back a couple of weeks. No, the trouble with Marion you see, is she lives on her nerves. Far too much.

  EVA: Marion does?

  RONALD: Oh, yes. Very nervous, insecure sort of person basically, you know.

  EVA: Really?

  RONALD: That surprises you, does it? Well, I’ve got a pretty thorough working knowledge of her now, you know. I mean, she’s calmer than she was. When I first met her she was really one of the jumpiest girls you could ever hope to meet. Still, as I say, she’s much calmer since she’s been with me. If I’ve done nothing else for her, I’ve acted as a sort of sedative.

  EVA: You don’t think that a lot of her trouble may be – drink?

  RONALD: Drink? No, I don’t honestly think so. She’s always liked a – I mean, the doctor did say she should lay off. But that was only because it was acting as a stimulant. She hasn’t touched it lately.

  EVA: She has this evening.

  RONALD: Really?

  EVA: Yes.

  RONALD: Well, you do surprise me.

  EVA: She’s got quite a collection up there.

  RONALD: Oh, has she? Has she now?

  EVA: Didn’t you know?

  RONALD: Well, I don’t often have much cause to go into her room these days. She likes her privacy, you see. And I respect that. Not that it’s not a mutual arrangement, you understand. I mean, she doesn’t particularly choose to come into my room either. So it works out rather conveniently. On the whole.

  EVA: Do you ever see each other at all?

  RONALD: Good Lord, it’s not as if we aren’t in the same house. We bang into each other quite frequently. It’s not always as quiet as this, believe me. In the holidays we’ve got the boys here. They thump about. No end of a racket. Boys, of course. Mind you, they’re no trouble – they’re usually out, too, most of the time – with their friends.

  EVA: Pity they’re not with you for Christmas.

  RONALD: Oh well, it’s greatly over-estimated, this Christmas business. That reminds me, would you like a drink? Seeing as it’s Christmas.

  EVA: No, I don’t think so.

  RONALD: Oh, go on. Just one. With me, for Christmas.

  EVA: Well – all right, a little one.

  RONALD: Right. [He rises] Good. I’ll brave the elements then and try and make it as far as the sitting-room …

  [The doorbell rings]

  EVA: That’s probably Geoff.

  RONALD: [opening the door] I’ll let him in, then. [Stopping short] Good Lord, is that dust on the hall table or frost? Won’t be a minute. [RONALD goes out]

  [EVA, alone, looks round the room rather sadly. She leaves the sandwich and plate on the table, puts the other things back on the sideboard, returns to the table, sits and starts to eat the sandwich]

  [GEOFFREY enters in his overcoat]

  GEOFFREY: Blimey. Why aren’t you sitting in the garden, it’s warmer.

  EVA: Hullo.

  GEOFFREY: Ready then?

  EVA: I’m just going to have a drink with Ronnie.

  GEOFFREY: Oh. And how is she?

  EVA: Drunk.

  GEOFFREY: God.

  [Pause. EVA munches]

  EVA: How did you get on?

  GEOFFREY: Well …

  EVA: Did you ask him?

  GEOFFREY: Well …

  EVA: You didn’t.

  [GEOFFREY does not reply]

  You didn’t damn well ask him.

  GEOFFREY: It’s no good. I find it impossible to ask people for money.

  [EVA gives a short laugh]

  I’m sorry.

  EVA: He owes it you. You’re not asking him a favour, you know. He owes it you.

  GEOFFREY: I know.

  EVA: Well then.

  GEOFFREY: It doesn’t matter.

  EVA: Oh, my … Oh well I’ll have to get in touch with him then. After Christmas. I don’t mind doing it.

  GEOFFREY: You don’t have to do that.

  EVA: Well, somebody has to, darling. Don’t they?

  [The door opens. A drinks trolley enters followed by RONALD]

  RONALD: Here we come. The Trans-Siberian Express. Thank you so much. We seem to be a bit depleted on the old alcohol stakes. Odd, thought I’d stocked up only recently. Probably old Mrs Minns been knocking them off, eh? The woman must have some vices. She hasn’t got much else to recommend her. Now what are we having, Eva?

  EVA: Could I have just a bitter lemon?

  RONALD: Good gracious, nothing stronger?

  EVA: Not just now.

  RONALD: Well, if that’s what you want … Geoff, what about you?

  GEOFFREY: I think I’d like the same, actually.

  RONALD: Wh
at? A bitter lemon?

  GEOFFREY: Just what I feel like.

  RONALD: You won’t last through Christmas at that rate. [Inspecting his trolley] Well, that seems to be the only thing I haven’t brought.

  EVA: Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Something else.

  RONALD: No, no. I’ll get it, I’ll get it. We’ve got some somewhere.

  [RONALD goes out, closing the door]

  EVA: I mean, either you want me to help you or you don’t.

  GEOFFREY: Yes.

  EVA: I mean, if you don’t, just say so. I don’t particularly enjoy working in that dark little office of yours. You’re a terrible employer. You come in late even when I drive you to work. You take four-hour lunch breaks and then expect me to do all your damn typing at five o’clock in the evening.

  GEOFFREY: That’s the way I do business.

  EVA: Not with me you don’t.

  GEOFFREY: That’s what you’re paid for.

  EVA: That’s what I’m what?

  GEOFFREY: Look, if you don’t like the job …

  EVA: You asked me to help you. Now, if you didn’t mean that, that’s a different matter.

  GEOFFREY: Well yes, I did, but …

  EVA: All right, then. That’s settled. You asked me to help you. I am bloody well going to help you.

  GEOFFREY: O.K. O.K., thanks.

  EVA: Not at all. [A slight pause] And you’re not going to ask for that money?

  GEOFFREY: No.

  EVA: Even though we’re owed it?

  GEOFFREY: No.

  EVA: And you won’t let me ask?

  GEOFFREY: No.

  EVA: All right. Then we’ll have to think of something else.

  GEOFFREY: Exactly.

  EVA: I’ll phone Sidney Hopcroft after Christmas and talk to him.

  GEOFFREY: Sidney Hopcroft.

  EVA: He’s always asking if you’re interested.

  GEOFFREY: If you think I’m going to get myself involved in his seedy little schemes …

  EVA: Why not?

  GEOFFREY: Have you seen the buildings he’s putting up? Half his tenants are asking to be re-housed and they haven’t even moved in yet.

  EVA: Darling, I hate to remind you but ever since the ceiling of the Harrison building caved in and nearly killed the Manager, Sidney Hopcroft is about your only hope of surviving as an architect in this city.

  GEOFFREY: I can do without Sidney Hopcroft, thank you very much.

  [The door opens. RONALD enters with two bottles of bitter lemon]

  RONALD: Here we are. Two very bitter lemons. [He pours out two bitter lemons and a scotch]

  EVA: Thank you.

  RONALD: I think I’m going to have something more than that, if you’ll excuse me. Bit quieter than last Christmas, eh?

  GEOFFREY: What?

  RONALD: Last Christmas. Remember that? Round at your place?

  GEOFFREY: Yes.

  EVA: Yes.

  RONALD: Good gracious me. You have to laugh now. Old Hopcroft. [He laughs] Always remember old Hopcroft. Doing very well. Did you know that? Doing frightfully well. Seems to have a flair for it. Wouldn’t think so to look at him. Always found him a bit unprepossessing. Still – the chap to keep in with. The rate he’s going.

  EVA: Yes.

  GEOFFREY: [picking up RONALD’s book] Is this good?

  RONALD: Oh, yes. Yes, quite good. Very amusing. Bit – saucy, in parts. Mrs Minns found it under one of the boys’ mattresses. Nearly finished her there and then, poor old thing. Bitter lemon.

  EVA: Thanks.

  RONALD: Bitter lemon.

  GEOFFREY: Thank you.

  RONALD: [raising his glass of scotch] Well, Happy Christmas. Good health. God bless.

  EVA: Happy Christmas.

  GEOFFREY: Happy Christmas.

  RONALD: [after a pause] Sorry to hear about your problems, Geoff.

  GEOFFREY: How do you mean?

  RONALD: I meant, the Harrison thing. Hear it fell through … Oh, I’m sorry, perhaps that’s the wrong expression to use – bit unfortunate.

  GEOFFREY: That’s all right.

  EVA: It wasn’t actually Geoff’s fault.

  RONALD: No. no, I’m sure – knowing Geoff. Unthinkable. I mean, that local paper’s as biased as hell. I refused to read that particular article. So did all my friends.

  EVA: [after a pause] Just because Geoffrey was doing something totally new for a change …

  GEOFFREY: How’s the bank doing, then?

  RONALD: Oh, well. We’re not in the red, yet. No thanks to me, mind you.

  [A bell rings]

  GEOFFREY: Is that the front door?

  RONALD: No. It’s the – er – bedroom bell, actually. We’ve never bothered to have them taken out. They always come in useful. Boys with measles and so on.

  EVA: Shall I go up to her?

  RONALD: No, no, I’ll …

  EVA: No, it’s all right. I don’t mind …

  RONALD: Well, that’s very good of you. Probably nothing important. Wants the page of her magazine turning over or something.

  EVA: I hope not.

  RONALD: What’s the harm, I say. As long as it keeps her happy.

  EVA: Yes.

  [EVA goes out, closing the door]

  RONALD: I mean, who are we to argue with a woman, eh? You can never win. Hopeless. Mind you, I’m talking to the wrong chap, aren’t I?

  GEOFFREY: What?

  RONALD: I mean you seem to do better than most of us.

  GEOFFREY: Oh, yes. [He sits in the armchair]

  RONALD: You seem to have got things pretty well organized on the home front. [He laughs]

  GEOFFREY: Well, it’s just a matter of knowing …

  RONALD: Ah yes, that’s the point. I never really have. Not really. I mean, take my first wife. Distinguished-looking woman. Very charming. Seemed pretty happy on the whole. Then one day, she suddenly ups and offs and goes. Quite amazing. I mean, I had literally no idea she was going to. I mean, we had the flat over the bank at the time, so it wasn’t as if I was even very far away and on this particular day, I came up for lunch and she’d laid on her usual splendid meal. I mean, I had absolutely no complaints about that. I think my very words were something like, jolly nice that, see you this evening. And when we knocked off for tea, I came upstairs and she’d just taken off. Well, I hunted about for a bit in case she’d got knocked down or gone shopping and lost her memory or something and then she wrote, some time later, and said she’d had enough. So I was forced to call it a day. Some time later again, I took up tennis to forget her and married Marion. Of course, that’s all forgotten now. All the same, sometimes in the evening I can’t help sitting here and trying to work it all out. I mean, something happened. Something must have happened. I’m just not sure what. Anyway. Under the. bridge, eh? All I’m saying really, is some people seem to have the hang of it and some of us just aren’t so lucky.

  GEOFFREY: Hang of what?

  RONALD: Well – this whole women business, really. I mean, this may sound ridiculous, but I’ve never to this day really known what most women think about anything. Completely closed book to me. I mean, God bless them, what would we do without them? But I’ve never understood them. I mean, damn it all, one minute you’re having a perfectly good time and the next, you suddenly see them there like – some old sports jacket or something – literally beginning to come apart at the seams. Floods of tears, smashing your pots, banging the furniture about. God knows what. Both my wives, God bless them, they’ve given me a great deal of pleasure over the years but, by God, they’ve cost me a fortune in fixtures and fittings. All the same. Couldn’t do without them, could we? I suppose. Want another one of those?

 

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