DELIA: Right I’ve decided, it’s the other one. Good. Now, in the spare wardrobe in Trevor’s old room on the top shelf, there’s a little black handbag. Could you fetch me that?…
[DELIA goes into the bathroom]
ERNEST: Little black handbag, right, [looking round] I don’t think you can tell very much from this bedroom. Except the roof’s leaking from somewhere.
[As he goes out, cross fade to NICK and JAN’s room. JAN comes in in her coat. As soon as NICK, lying in bed, sees her he groans]
JAN: Are you all right?
[NICK moans]
JAN: Is it painful?
NICK: Amazingly enough, yes.
JAN: Are you comfy?
NICK: Not really.
JAN: Shall I prop you up a bit?
NICK: No, no. I’ll just – aaaah!
JAN: You might want to read.
NICK: How can I read? I can’t do anything.
JAN: Well, your book’s there.
NICK: Oh, it’s maddening. A maddening thing to happen. Why this month. I mean, I’m simply bending down pulling on my socks and bang. It’s totally unfair. Why me? I mean, I’m the last person in the world who should be stuck in bed.
JAN: Yes…
NICK: I’m a naturally active person, aren’t I? Aren’t I? I have to be on the go. I need to be on the go. I’m going to go mad lying here, you know. I’m going to go off my head, I know it. I’ve only been here since this morning and I’m dying of boredom. How long did that man say?
JAN: Well, a few days.
NICK: We know what that means. I’ll be here for Christmas.
JAN: Don’t be stupid.
NICK: That doctor obviously didn’t know what he was talking about. Bad luck, old chap – a bottle of pills and he’s off.
JAN: They’re supposed to relax you.
NICK: All they’ve done is to give me double vision. Why me? I’ve got so many things I should be – aaah – should be doing. Did you get hold of the office and tell them about the meeting?
JAN: Yes, it’s cancelled.
NICK: And you sent the telegram to Glasgow?
JAN: Yes and I spoke to someone at Shelgrove and told them not to expect you. And I cabled America and asked them to ring this number when convenient. O.K.?
NICK: Right
JAN: I don’t know why you pay a secretary. I won’t be long.
NICK: Where are you going?
JAN: I told you. Malcolm and Kate’s housewarming.
NICK: Tonight?
JAN: They did invite us both. I phoned and told them what had happened. I said I’d just look in for ten minutes.
NICK: What about me?
JAN: I won’t be long.
NICK: You don’t want to go to Malcolm and Kate’s, do you?
JAN: I said I would.
NICK: What? And sit and look at love’s young dream all evening.
JAN: There’ll be lots of others.
NICK: Then they won’t miss you, will they?
JAN: I said I would.
NICK: Well, phone them up.
JAN: No, I want to.
NICK: Why?
JAN: Well.
NICK: What on earth for?
JAN: Well. If you must know – it’s simply that – well. Simply. Susannah is going to be there.
NICK: Susannah.
JAN: Yes. I wanted to see her. It’s a good opportunity and I thought I might…
NICK: And Trevor.
JAN: Yes. Possibly.
NICK: I should think it’s highly probable. Seeing as they’re married. Unless he’s crippled as well.
JAN: Anyway. That’s why.
NICK: And if it’s a choice between Trevor and me, it’s going to be Trevor.
JAN: No.
NICK: Yes.
JAN: Not at all.
NICK: Yes.
JAN: It’s just I heard that – well – there’s some awful trouble between them. I mean that silly bitch Susannah, she’s got no idea at all. She hasn’t a clue about Trevor. I know Trevor’s impossible sometimes but I think I do know him probably better than anyone…
NICK: Oh yes, yes.
JAN: I think if I talk to them before they do something they’ll regret…
NICK: Like her shooting him.
JAN: Don’t be silly.
NICK: Look, he’s a very selfish, very spoilt, self-pitying, self-obsessed…
JAN: I know, I know.
NICK: All right.
JAN: Just for ten minutes. I promise. Your book’s there. [she moves to the door]
NICK: Oy!
JAN: Mm?
NICK: I take it you still prefer me?
JAN: I think so. Mostly.
[She kisses him]
NICK: [wriggling] Oh.
JAN: What is it?
NICK: Ah.
JAN: What?
NICK: This damn bed is full of crumbs.
JAN: Crumbs?
NICK: From those biscuits. I told you not to give me biscuits.
JAN: [pulling back the side covers and attempting to brush the undersheet beneath him] O.K., just a minute, just a minute.
NICK: Careful! Careful! CAREFUL!
JAN: All right, all right, ALL RIGHT! God, how do they do it? How do these nurses do it? They are saints. I’d go stark raving mad and strangle all the patients, I know I would.
NICK: Aaaah!
JAN: Nick, will you kindly lie still.
NICK: Ah!
JAN: There we are. Is that better?
NICK: Aah!
JAN: And stop that din. It’s not that serious.
NICK: Hah!
JAN: It is not a disc. Nothing is broken. It is just a little tiny muscle.
NICK: It is not a little tiny muscle. It is the main motor muscle that runs right up the spinal cord…
JAN: All right. Too bad. Sorry and all that. Won’t be long. See you later.
NICK: Thanks for the sympathy.
JAN: Well, I’m afraid I have the misfortune to be born with only that much sympathy and that’s your lot. You’ve had it all. Bye bye.
NICK: Give my love to Trevor….
JAN: Oh God. [she goes out]
NICK: [shouting after her, propping himself up on one elbow] Tell him with me ill in bed, the field’s clear for him to – aaah! Oh blimey O’Riley. Why me? Why me?
[Cross fade to MALCOLM and KATE’s]
[MALCOLM comes in with one of KATE’s shoes]
[He looks for somewhere to hide it]
[He tucks it down the bottom of the unmade bed]
[MALCOLM sits in the chair innocently]
KATE: [off, then entering] Malcolm! Malcolm… I know you’re up here, Malcolm. Come on, Malcolm, what have you done with it?
MALCOLM: What?
KATE: My other shoe. What have you done with it?
MALCOLM: I don’t know.
KATE: Oh really… [seeing the cardboard packages] What’s all this?
MALCOLM: Ah-ha.
KATE: Where did they come from?
MALCOLM: I got it today.
KATE: I didn’t see you.
MALCOLM: You don’t see everything.
KATE: What is it?
MALCOLM: A little surprise. Nothing much. A little house-warming present from me to you.
KATE: Whatever is it?
MALCOLM: Later, later. When they’ve all gone.
KATE: Whatever is it? It’s an ironing board.
MALCOLM: An ironing board…
KATE: What have you done with my shoe?
MALCOLM: Shoe? Shoe?
KATE: [giving up] Oh…
MALCOLM: It’s going to be a really good party tonight, I can feel it.
KATE: I hope so. Oooh. Something to confess.
MALCOLM: What?
KATE: You know that shelf you put up in the kitchen.
MALCOLM: Yes.
KATE: It’s fallen down again.
MALCOLM: Again –
KATE: I was ever so careful.
MALCOLM: I told yo
u it wasn’t designed for great heavy weights.
KATE: I only stood the cruet on it. I deliberately didn’t go near it in case it fell down. Oh, I’m terribly hot. Have I got time for a bath?
MALCOLM: Just about.
KATE: Now, the food’s all going on the big table. Then I’ve cleared the sideboard for the drinks. And they can put their coats here on the bed – oh look, I haven’t made the bed. Where is it then?
MALCOLM: What?
KATE: You know what. My blooming shoe.
[MALCOLM whistles to himself and starts to take off his boots ]
[starting on the bed] You going to wear your nice shirt?
MALCOLM: Which one?
KATE: Your nice one.
MALCOLM: All right.
KATE: You look nice in that.
MALCOLM: Yes, it’s going to be a really good party. Who’ve we got coming then?
KATE: Oh – everyone – I asked everyone. Except Nick, he can’t come.
MALCOLM: Nick?
KATE: Yes, he hurt his back, poor thing.
MALCOLM: Ah.
KATE: Jan phoned me. He hurt it this morning. She’s coming though.
MALCOLM: Good. Good. [he takes off his sweater]
KATE: And who else is there. Ken and Margaret, of course. And John and Dorothy and Wilfrid and Gareth and Gwen and Mike and Dave and Carole and Dick and Lottie, Gordon and Marge, of course and – er – Susannah and Trevor…
MALCOLM: Trevor?
KATE: Yes.
MALCOLM: And Susannah?
KATE: Yes.
MALCOLM: Oh dear, oh dear.
KATE: Well, I had to. They’ve had us round twice.
MALCOLM: I see. Well, that’s that, isn’t it?
KATE: Well.
MALCOLM: That’s that. Where is it then?
KATE: What?
MALCOLM: The shirt.
KATE: Oh, it’s in the airing cupboard. I washed it.
MALCOLM: Right.
KATE: Could you turn my bath on?
MALCOLM: Right.
[MALCOLM goes out]
[KATE finds her shoe in the bed ]
KATE: Oh really.
[She eyes the present ]
[She sees MALCOLM’s boots ]
[She snatches them up and stuffs them into one of the pillow cases ]
[MALCOLM returns ]
Very funny.
MALCOLM: Eh?
KATE: My shoe. Very funny.
MALCOLM: Ah.
KATE: And I don’t want any more foreign bodies in my side of the bed tonight, thank you very much.
MALCOLM: Foreign bodies?
KATE: You know. Hair brushes and all my bottles and jars – you know.
MALCOLM: Wasn’t me.
KATE: You and your jokes. Is my bath running?
MALCOLM: Yes. Now look, you say Jan’s coming and Susannah’s coming and Trevor’s coming?
KATE: Yes.
MALCOLM: That’s marvellous. If Trevor and Susannah don’t have a fight, then it’s ten to one Jan and Susannah will have a fight…
JAN: I hope not.
MALCOLM: Well, the first sign of any trouble they’re all out, I’m telling you. This is going to be a good party. I’m not having any of that. [he has put on his shirt]
KATE: Has that shrunk?
MALCOLM: I don’t know, has it?
KATE: It looks as if it’s shrunk. Or else you’re getting fat.
[She Goes Out ]
MALCOLM: Fat? You cheeky thing. [calling] Hey, Blodge. Blodge.
KATE: [off] What?
MALCOLM: What have you done with my shoes?
KATE: [off] Ah-ha.
MALCOLM: What have you done with them? What’s she done with them?
[He sees her shoes]
[He hides them in the bed]
KATE: [off] Ooooh!
MALCOLM: What?
KATE: [returning partially undressed] Did you put that brush in my bath?
MALCOLM: Brush? What brush?
KATE: Well, you shouldn’t do that. It’s very unhygienic. Honestly… [she goes]
[MALCOLM laughs ]
[Cross fade to ERNEST and DELIA ]
[DELIA comes in dressed to go ]
[She looks about her ]
DELIA: [calling] Ernest! Ernest!
ERNEST: [off] Coming.
DELIA: Where have you got to?
ERNEST: [enters dusting himself down] All ready to go, are you?
DELIA: Where on earth have you been?
ERNEST: I was just having a quick squint into the loft. Seeing if I could see any signs. Water’s getting in from somewhere.
DELIA: You’re filthy dirty.
ERNEST: Oh, that’s all right. No one’ll notice.
DELIA: I have. Now, don’t go and overtip tonight, will you.
ERNEST: Overtip?
DELIA: You did last year. These waiters don’t like it.
ERNEST: I’ve never heard them object.
DELIA: I read somewhere it was just as bad form to overtip as it was to undertip. If not worse.
ERNEST: The bloke last year was pleased enough to take it.
DELIA: The Spanish one.
ERNEST: Was he Spanish? Smiling all over his face.
DELIA: You obviously don’t know the Spanish. That expression was little short of scornful. Desperately embarrassing. Right, we’re off. [she goes]
ERNEST: [following] I thought he was an Italian, anyway.
[Cross fade to NICK ]
[NICK lying in bed has evidently been reading. He has laid down his book on the eiderdown to rest. He now pulls up the eiderdown round him a little and in doing so causes his book to fall off the end of the bed ]
NICK: Oh no, oh no, oh no…
[Cross fade to MALCOLM and KATE]
[The room is empty. From off a scream from KATE. She rushes in with just a towel round her pursued by MALCOLM now shirtless again and brandishing an aerosol can of shaving soap ]
KATE: Now, Malcolm, stop it, do you hear, stop it.
MALCOLM: You started it.
KATE: I did not start it.
MALCOLM: You splashed me.
KATE: All right, I’m sorry.
MALCOLM: Are you sorry?
KATE: Yes, I said I’m sorry.
MALCOLM: Very sorry?
KATE: Yes, very sorry. Now, let me get dressed, Malcolm, please.
MALCOLM: All right. Splash me again, you’re in trouble.
KATE: I’m getting dressed in the bathroom, I don’t trust you.
[She picks up some clothes and the aerosol can ]
MALCOLM: Where have you hidden my shoes? [he looks under the bed ]
[KATE sprays his back with the shaving soap. And darts away with a shriek ]
MALCOLM: Right, Blodge, you going to get it, Blodge.
KATE: [distant] I’ve locked the door. You can’t come in.
MALCOLM: I can wait, Blodge, I can wait. I’ll get you. I’ll get you.
[The doorbell rings ]
Somebody’s arrived.
KATE: [distant] What?
MALCOLM: Somebody’s here. That was the doorbell. [he has wiped off the soap and has slipped on his shirt ]
KATE: Oh no, it wasn’t.
MALCOLM: [slipping on some other shoes] Want a bet? It was the doorbell.
KATE: [distant] Really? Well, you answer it then.
MALCOLM: I will.
KATE: I don’t believe you, Malcolm Newton.
[MALCOLM goes off downstairs ]
[off] I don’t believe you. [she comes in still with the towel round her, the soap spray in her hand] Where are you hiding? Malcolm? Malcolm? I can see you, Malcolm. Malcolm, I don’t believe you…
Three Plays Page 18