[The phone rings]
Answer that will you, John.
JOHN: [doing so] Hallo… could you speak up? Gordon? … hallo, Gordon, matey… it’s John, yes… yes, she’s here … wait a minute… I’ll give her a yell.
COLIN: [moving to the door] I’ll call her.
PAUL: Tell her she can take it upstairs.
JOHN: [still listening at phone] Hang on, Col, she’s here… you got it then, Marge… okay… she’s got it… [He goes to place the receiver and then, covering the mouthpiece, listens in. He laughs]
PAUL: Put it down.
JOHN: [enjoying himself] Hang on, hang on.
COLIN: Tell her I’d like a word with him when she’s –
JOHN: [laughing] He’s burst his hot water bottle. [listens] He’s in a shocking state.
PAUL: Put it down.
JOHN: You should hear –
PAUL: It’s private, put it down.
[JOHN does so, reluctantly]
COLIN: I wanted a word with him.
JOHN: I don’t think you would at the moment. He’s a moaner, isn’t he? A real moaner. Big fat moaner. Old gloom Gordon.
COLIN: He was a great left-arm bowler.
JOHN: Oh, yes. Could have played for the County.
COLIN: Easily.
JOHN: Till he wrecked his shoulder.
COLIN: Tragic, that.
JOHN: Yes. We could do with a good left-arm bowler in this County.
COLIN: He had his heart set on that as a career, didn’t he?
JOHN: Yes. What is he now? Fire prevention officer, married to Marge and fat.
COLIN: I think she’s very good for him, don’t you?
JOHN: Yes, she’s all right. I don’t know how good he is for her, though. [He lifts the phone off the hook to listen for a second]
PAUL: [wearily] What are you doing?
JOHN: [laughing] He’s shouting his head off at her still… [He stays listening and pulls a face at what he hears]
COLIN: [moving to him] John… excuse me… do you mind? … Thank you… [He takes the phone from JOHN]
JOHN: [startled] What are you doing?
COLIN: [into phone] Hallo… hallo… Marge… Gordon… Sorry if this is a private conversation… pardon me for butting in… Colin here… Hallo, Jumbo… Excuse me, Marge… Just wanted to say, get well soon… pecker up… I expect Marge’ll be home to look after you shortly, won’t you, Marge? You’ve got a real treasure there, Gordon, a real treasure… God bless… won’t talk any longer… Back to nurse Marge… Bye-bye… bye-bye, Gordon… [He replaces the receiver] That’s nice. Managed a quick word, anyway… [He smiles]
PAUL: Oh, my God…
COLIN: How was he?
COLIN: Between you and me, I don’t think he’s too good. Marge sounded very cut up. Very cut up indeed.
[EVELYN pushes the baby in]
JOHN: You bringing him in?
EVELYN: It’s raining out there.
J OHN: Rain won’t hurt him. Good for him. Make him grow.
EVELYN: He’s nearly off again, anyway.
COLIN: May I have a look?
EVELYN: Yes. Just don’t make daft noises at him. He doesn’t like it.
COLIN: [looking into pram] Oh, great. He’s so – small, isn’t he?
EVELYN: Yes. Look at him, little devil, he’s really fighting to stay awake.
COLIN: He’s just great. The feeling you both must have, looking at him… must make you so…
EVELYN: [cutting him short] He’s not bad. [She rocks the pram. To JOHN] We’re going in a minute.
JOHN: Right.
COLIN: Yes, as soon as Marge comes down, I think I must…
JOHN: You all right, Paul?
PAUL: Fine. I must go up in a minute. I’ve got a lot of work to do, upstairs.
[MARGE comes in, blowing her nose]
MARGE: She’s nearly off to sleep. I think she’ll be all right when she’s rested.
COLIN: Ah, yes. Sleep. A great healer. [Confidentially] Hope you didn’t mind me butting in on the phone call just now, Marge?
MARGE: That’s all right, Colin.
COLIN: Thought as he was on, I’d have a quick word with him.
MARGE: Lovely.
COLIN: He sounded a bit… er… under the weather…
MARGE: He’s all right.
COLIN: Not his usual cheery old self.
MARGE: He’s all right.
COLIN: Sounded as if he could do with a bit of jollying up…
MARGE: [more sharply] He’ll be perfectly all right the minute I get back to him, don’t worry, Colin.
COLIN: Ah, well. That’s good.
[PAUL sits with his eyes closed]
[EVELYN rocks the pram]
[JOHN gazes out of the window]
[MARGE stands wrapped in thought]
Well. [Pause] I suppose I ought to be… Much as I’d like to… Making tracks and all that.
[Pause]
COLIN: Yes.
[Pause]
[looking at his watch] Good heavens, yes. Look at the… It’s a long drive. I’d better make a start. [Pause] Goodbye, all…
MARGE: [coming out of her reverie] Oh, Colin, are you off?
COLIN: Yes, I think I’d…
MARGE: Yes. Don’t forget your photographs…
COLIN: Oh, no. I wouldn’t do that. Not likely to do that.
MARGE: I hope you – manage all right, Colin.
COLIN: Me? Oh, I’m fine. I’ve always fallen on my feet, you know… I’ve still got a good job – health and strength – and lately, I think I’ve found a few good friends over there as well. Carol’s parents, to name but two. I’m always round with them these days. You know, talking over old times and things. And if I really get a bit depressed, out come the old albums. It’s a pity you didn’t meet her, Marge. You’d have got on like a house on fire.
MARGE: Yes, I’m sure.
COLIN: Well. Goodbye, Evelyn. Been a great pleasure meeting you.
EVELYN: Bye.
JOHN: Cheerio, old Col. See you.
COLIN: You bet. Come over and see me.
JOHN: Might just do that. When I get the new car. Have a few [Drinking gesture] … together.
COLIN: Any time, Paul.
PAUL: Bye, Colin. Take care.
COLIN: And you. Say goodbye to Di, will you.
PAUL: Oh, sure. She’ll be sorry she missed you.
COLIN: Bye-bye, Marge. No, it’s all right, I’ll see myself out. [Hesitating] Er – I really appreciated you all inviting me over here, this afternoon, you know and, well… thanks a lot. You’ve really been great. All of you.
MARGE: Goodbye, Colin. And I hope perhaps, you know – later on – you’ll… once you’ve got over… I mean, I know it will be difficult for a time for you to forget about Carol…
COLIN: Forget her? Oh come on. Marge. You know me better than that, don’t you? [smiling round] Bye-bye, all.
[COLIN goes out. A pause]
MARGE: He’s a nice boy, isn’t he?
JOHN: Good old Col. Just the same.
MARGE: Paul, I’ll have to go home to Gordon in a minute.
PAUL: Yes. Fine, Marge. Fine. You do that…
MARGE: But if by any chance you need help – with her – you know my number. As soon as I’ve cleaned Gordon up, I can easily look back.
PAUL: No, we’ll manage, Marge, honestly.
MARGE: She should sleep now.
[EVELYN starts singing, still rocking the pram]
[PAUL sits and starts to doze]
JOHN: [who has sat down for once] I’ll cut that carpet up for the car tomorrow.
MARGE: [sitting down herself for a moment] I don’t think I’d better leave Gordon on his own again when he’s ill, you know. He doesn’t like it. He prefers it if I’m there. [Slight pause] Oh, it’s terrible. I haven’t got the energy to move now. Once I’ve sat down… I think those shoes will go with that coat. I hope so… oh, look at us. Honestly. All drooping about like wet weekends… still, why shou
ldn’t we, I say. There are worse ways of spending the time. Than sitting peacefully with your friends. Nice to sit with your friends now and again. Nice…
[EVELYN continues her singing]
[MARGE daydreams]
[PAUL starts to snore loudly]
[JOHN jiggles]
CURTAIN
BEDROOM FARCE
CHARACTERS
Ernest
Delia
Nick
Jan
Malcolm
Kate
Trevor
Susannah
The play was first produced at the Library Theatre, Scarborough, on June 16th 1975 and subsequently, under the direction of Peter Hall, at the National Theatre, London, on March 14th 1977.
ACT ONE
Saturday evening 7 p.m.
Three bedrooms:
The first, ERNEST and DELIA’s.
Large Victorian bedroom in need of redecoration. The furniture including a double bed, bedside tables, dressing table etc. are all sturdy, unremarkable family pieces. A phone by the bed. Two doors, one to the landing and the rest of the house, the other to a bathroom.
The second bedroom is MALCOLM and KATE’s.
This is smaller, probably a front bedroom in a terrace house which they are in the process of converting. It is sparsely furnished. A brand new bed, unmade, being the centrepiece. In addition an odd easy chair. One of the walls has been repapered, the rest are stripped. In one corner, a number of cardboard packages, unopened. A phone by the bed. One door leading to the landing, the bathroom and the rest of the house.
The third bedroom is NICK and JAN’s.
This is furnished in a more trendy style with a brass bedstead and some interesting antique stuff. Rugs on the floor. A phone by the bed. One door leading off to the bathroom and everywhere else. The action will alternate between these three areas.
At the start, NICK is already in bed, lying looking sorry for himself.
MALCOLM and KATE’s bedroom is empty.
DELIA sits in her bedroom at her dressing table mirror. She is going out. She is in her slip and finishing her make-up. An elaborate operation. ERNEST wanders in. Birdlike, bumbling, nearly sixty. He is in evening dress. He stares at DELIA. They are obviously going to be late but ERNEST has learnt that impatience gets him nowhere.
ERNEST: Have you got much further to go?
DELIA: [without turning] Not long now.
ERNEST: Good. Good show. [he walks out humming restlessly] No, that is definitely a damp patch, you know.
DELIA: Mmm?
ERNEST: A damp patch. Definitely. It’s getting in from somewhere. I’ve just been standing on the spare bed in there feeling the ceiling. The verdict is, very very damp.
DELIA: Oh dear.
ERNEST: Yes. Which only goes to confirm my suspicion that those chaps we had crawling about the roof for six months didn’t know their job. [he leans out of the window backwards]
DELIA: What are you doing?
ERNEST: I’m trying to catch a glimpse of the re-pointing. It’s seeping in from somewhere.
DELIA: You’ll fall out in a minute.
ERNEST: No. You can’t see a thing. That gutterwork’s obscuring the whole… Good lord. That needs a spot of attention. It’s hanging off at one end. Good lord.
DELIA: Darling, you’re in my light.
ERNEST: There’s a whole chunk of guttering here hanging on by a screw. [he comes in] Hadn’t noticed that before.
DELIA: Oh, did I tell you. Susannah phoned this afternoon.
ERNEST: [thoughtful] Did he? Did he indeed.
DELIA: No, not he. Susannah.
ERNEST: Who?
DELIA: Susannah.
ERNEST: Oh, Susannah. Jolly good. Very worrying that guttering, you know. One light to medium monsoon, we’ll have a water-fall in the dining room.
DELIA: She sounded very agitated.
ERNEST: Oh yes.
DELIA: Things are not good between her and Trevor.
ERNEST: Ah. It’s twenty past, you know.
DELIA: All right, all right.
ERNEST: We’re booked for eight o’clock.
DELIA: They’ll hold the table.
ERNEST: They might not.
DELIA: Of course they will.
ERNEST: You never know. Not these days.
DELIA: They’ll hold the table for us. We’re regulars. We go there every year.
ERNEST: Oh, well. It’s your anniversary.
DELIA: And yours.
ERNEST: True, true. I think I should have given these shoes another polish.
DELIA: Well, go and do it.
ERNEST: No, it doesn’t matter. Nobody’ll notice.
DELIA: It would appear that things between Susannah and Trevor are coming to a head.
ERNEST: Ah.
DELIA: He was always a difficult boy. I sometimes think if you hadn’t ignored him quite as much –
ERNEST: I did?
DELIA: Of course you did. You hardly said a word to him all the time he was growing up.
ERNEST: I seem to remember chatting away to him for hours.
DELIA: Well. Chatting. I meant conversation. Conversation about important things. A father should converse with his son. About things that matter deeply.
ERNEST: Doesn’t really leave them much to talk about then, does it?
DELIA: And that if I may say so is typical. No. Let’s admit it. We weren’t good parents. You did nothing and I tried to make up for it, and that’s why he’s like he is today. I mean if he’d had a stable childhood, he’d never have completely lost his sense of proportion and married Susannah. I mean, I sometimes feel on the rare occasions one does see them together that she’s not really – awful thing to say but – not really resilient enough for Trevor. He wants somebody more phlegmatic. That Jan girl for instance would have been ideal. Do you remember her?
ERNEST: Jan? Jan? Jan?
DELIA: Nice little thing. Beautifully normal. She came to tea, do you remember? You got on very well with her.
ERNEST: Oh yes. She was jolly, wasn’t she? She was very interested in my stamps. What happened to her?
DELIA: Oh, she married – someone else, I think. She still writes occasionally.
ERNEST: I must say I preferred her to Susannah. Never really hit it off with her, I’m afraid.
DELIA: Well, she’s a very complex sort of girl, isn’t she? Hasn’t really made up her mind. About herself. I mean, I think a woman sooner or later has simply got to make up her mind about herself. I mean, even if she’s someone like Carolyn – you know, Mrs Brightman’s Carolyn – who looks at herself and says, right, I’m a lump I’m going to be a lump but then at least everyone can accept her as a lump. So much simpler.
ERNEST: I think he should have married this other one.
DELIA: Jan? I don’t think she was that keen.
ERNEST: She was altogether much jollier.
DELIA: Well, we’re saddled with Susannah as a daughter-in-law – at least temporarily. We’d better make the best of it – I think I’ve put these eyes on crooked – we’d better make the best of it.
ERNEST: It’s their bed. They can lie on it.
DELIA: Yes. I think that’s one of the problems.
ERNEST: Eh?
DELIA: B – E – D.
ERNEST: B – E – D? Bed?
DELIA: Enough said.
ERNEST: Good lord. How do you know?
DELIA: One reads between the lines, darling. I’ve had a little look around their house. You can tell a great deal from people’s bedrooms.
ERNEST: Can you? Good heavens, [he looks about]
DELIA: If you know what to look for. Now then. Do I wear what I wore when I went to the Reynolds or shall I wear the stripy thing that you loathe.
ERNEST: I’d wear the Reynolds thing.
DELIA: Or there’s the little grey.
ERNEST: Oh.
DELIA: Or the blue.
ERNEST: Ah.
DELIA: No, that isn’t pressed.
You decide, darling. Stripy or the other one.
ERNEST: Er…
DELIA: Or the grey.
ERNEST: Er…
Three Plays Page 17