They said a lot of things, didn’t they?
Home fires melody plays, sad and lost.
And me, what do I say?
I say…
Spin on
Ride the merry-go-round
Roll the dice, turn the wheel
Play the cards whatever they deal
Spin on, spin on
With the winds as they blow
Wherever they throw me, mow me, go wherever they
Hurl me whirl me twirl me swirl me
Send me bend me rend me in a
No-never-ending dance
So what if I leave the rest… leave it all to… chance?
Morning light is strong now.
POPPY appears.
POPPY. Where did you come from?
TOMMY. Is this an angel I see? Have I died and gone to heaven?
POPPY. What happened last night?
TOMMY. You don’t want to know.
POPPY. Please tell me.
TOMMY. I rolled in worse for wear and Bessie’s not happy. And I’m not happy at the way she’s not happy, not at all happy and I made myself very clear about just how unhappy I was and she accuses me of blaming her and I blame her for accusing me and then I tells her to shut it or else… ‘Or else what?’ she’s mewling… And I’m, ‘Or else, you’ll see, OR ELSE!’ And she starts with her weeping… That’s what she does she weeps and wails and says how she can’t bear it any more and how it was easier without me and how she wishes that I’d never come back and that’s the truth the plain truth and there’s other men who’d treat her proper and kindly and I asks her what man and this time she doesn’t deny it. That man. Well, let him have her. They’re welcome to each other.
POPPY. Oh.
TOMMY. So it goes.
POPPY. But what happened before you went home?
TOMMY. Was there a before?
POPPY. When you were out with Smith and… George.
TOMMY. There was some trouble. I got well away from it. George went towards it. Trust George. Smith went after him.
POPPY. Is there anything you want to tell me about George?
TOMMY. What kind of anything?
POPPY. Anything a girl ought to know about her beau?
TOMMY. Not that I haven’t said already.
POPPY. Nothing?
TOMMY. Don’t think so.
POPPY. Honestly?
TOMMY. Why?
SMITH appears carrying a towel over his arm, jug of water, bowl, soap.
SMITH. Good morning.
TOMMY. If you say so.
SMITH. We may as well try.
TOMMY. Try dying?
SMITH/TOMMY. Or die trying.
SMITH. Freshen up, my friend.
SMITH gives the bowl, etc., to TOMMY.
TOMMY.
They say that when you’re mucky
All you need is slosh and soap
A scrub, a rub and good as new…
GEORGE enters, wearing clean trousers, shirt, waistcoat. He carries another towel, tray with shaving soap, brush, razor, sharpening leather.
For where there’s soap there’s…
GEORGE.…hope?
POPPY. Are you alright this morning, George?
GEORGE. Well enough.
POPPY. I heard there was some trouble last night.
GEORGE. Near-miss… but we got out of it.
SMITH disappears behind the curtain.
POPPY. How about I help you with your shave?
GEORGE. This is for Tommy.
TOMMY. Ta but a wash’ll do me.
He washes himself very carefully and thoroughly bit by little bit.
POPPY. Let me do it for you, George.
GEORGE. I’ve just had a wash.
POPPY. Please let me.
GEORGE. Don’t much like other people shaving me.
POPPY. Don’t you trust me?
GEORGE. D’you know how?
POPPY. Used to cut my cousins’ hair and shave them same time once they got bigger… When did you start to need to shave, George?
GEORGE. About fifteen, sixteen something.
POPPY. Does that sound about right to you, Tommy?
TOMMY. Why wouldn’t it?
POPPY. Go on. Sit down.
POPPY places a chair by the shaving stuff.
GEORGE. You sure you know how.
POPPY. I can raze a face smooth as my own.
GEORGE. But I’d prefer…
POPPY. And maybe we can have a little word.
TOMMY. Leave you to it.
POPPY. No need to go, Tom.
TOMMY. Good luck, my friend.
TOMMY nips off.
GEORGE. Is something amiss this morning?
POPPY. What if I was to say yes.
GEORGE. So there is something amiss?
POPPY. To your proposal.
GEORGE. You’re accepting?
POPPY. Didn’t you say last night about trusting my heart?
GEORGE. I did.
POPPY. Well, I read and I thought and I realised I felt… I truly felt… ready to overcome my principles and qualms… to promise myself to you… Decided you really were the man for me… So are you happy now I’ve said yes?
GEORGE. If you’re happy, I’m happy, love.
GEORGE sits.
She puts a towel round his shoulder.
POPPY. Is this how you imagine married life, George?
POPPY picks up the soap dish, pours water and starts to lather.
GEORGE. What, here, like this?
POPPY. I mean, getting up together every morning…
She lathers his face.
Just the two of us in our own cosy little home wherever that might be…
POPPY sharpens the razor on the leather.
…before you go off to your motors… with me taking care of you the best way I can… Is this how you want it?
POPPY raises the razor.
And what if I was to shave you every single day…?
POPPY approaches GEORGE to start to shave.
GEORGE. Careful.
POPPY suddenly stops.
POPPY. Why am I pretending…?
GEORGE. I told you I prefer to see to it myself.
GEORGE wipes his face clean with the towel.
POPPY. Why are you pretending…?
GEORGE. Just act normal, will you…
POPPY. Act normal? Like you…?
GEORGE. Like yourself…
POPPY. I saw the bloody bandages come off.
Silence.
In here. I saw everything. I saw…
GEORGE. Sh!
POPPY. Oh, don’t you want anyone to hear… (Louder.) that there’s not a spot of stubble on your face? Why is that, George?
GEORGE. Sh now.
POPPY. Why the hell did you ask me to marry you…?
GEORGE. Couldn’t stop myself… out it popped… and it felt good too… Didn’t it… felt right… didn’t it?
POPPY. Right? How does that make sense?
GEORGE. I told you, didn’t I – some things don’t make sense…
POPPY. Were you going to go through with it…?
GEORGE. I was going… to try… to find the right moment…
POPPY. How far were you going to go…?
GEORGE. To see if you’d understand… I thought you might… because…
POPPY. You think me a silly little sap!
GEORGE.…because I’ve never met a woman like you before.
POPPY (loud). I’ve sure as heck never met one like you!
GEORGE. Sh. Don’t.
POPPY. You should not have let me fall in so deep.
GEORGE. I fell too.
POPPY. You were in the driving seat.
GEORGE. Was I?
TOMMY, dressed in shirt and trousers, appears, carrying a bag.
TOMMY. You know, on consideration, this morning might not be so very bad after all. Not only am I an eligible bachelor once again… of sorts… but guess what, George?
GEORGE
. Have you found something, Tom?
TOMMY. As it happens, I have found an old flame who I thought was gone for good… My own, yes, my dear angel… And I wasn’t half fond of her…
POPPY. Amazing what you can discover when you open your eyes and look properly, isn’t it, George?
GEORGE. Come on, Pop… Hey…
POPPY. I mean really look, you see… Really notice… I mean, don’t you think you ought to come clean, George?
TOMMY. Have you been a naughty boy, George?
POPPY. What kind of naughty have you been, George… And what are you going to do to put it right?
GEORGE. Please… Leave it… Just leave it…
POPPY. A naughty what, George… Well? Because it’s not exactly a naughty boy, now, is it, that you have been… and are still being, tell the truth… So what is it? What is it, exactly that you have been… that you are… Well?!… Go on!… Go on then…!
SMITH (off. Behind the curtain). Ai-ai-ai! Give me some peace!
SMITH suddenly emerges from behind the curtain.
See these ears! They’ve had enough of your noise!
POPPY. But…
SMITH. Enough, I said… And see these hands! They’ve also had enough… more than enough… Idiotic hands! Ach!… My master used to rap these hands with a piece of cane. And he was right to do it… Discipline and craft is all!… What a presumptious dupe I’ve been… allowing myself to be waylaid… no… seduced… What a frail fool… as ever as ever as ever… not again… and just… listen to you!
POPPY. You’re accusing me!
SMITH. Who else distracted me! Diverted into believing that I know better… better than the methods, tried, tested, meticulously practiced, of generations! Luftmensch! Without the correct way, what is there? A thing that has no form… worthless nonsense… worse… a thing come from sheer indulgence… and intoxication… a thing that… no matter how perfect… how beautiful the velvet, the silk… comes to nothing… but an unholy mess… the waste of it! Show some respect and keep your mishegas to yourself at least… petty personal nonsense…
POPPY. How can you say that to me!
SMITH. Gornisht, Poppy. Drek.
Silence.
GEORGE. What you got in the bag, Tommy?
TOMMY. Long-lost treasures, my friend.
GEORGE. Anyone special to show us?
TOMMY. She’s been resting a while.
GEORGE. How about letting her out?
TOMMY. Maybe another time…
GEORGE. No time like the present.
TOMMY. Only I s’pose I’d better be searching for lodgings …
GEORGE. That can wait… Let her out.
TOMMY. Is she wanted?
GEORGE. Right now, more wanted than anything, mate.
TOMMY. Smith?
SMITH sighs.
SMITH. Why not.
TOMMY. Ah well… Once, in her heyday, she was quite the glittering shimmering presence of divine perfection come down to earth…
He pulls a ballerina’s tutu with little fairy wings out of the bag.
Please welcome, Leonora… my first, my very first darling girl. Here I began. Imagine her, dear friends, fresh, new gorgeous… in the beginning… Her Coppelia – what a doll… As Odette – what a swan… And her Plum Fairy, pure sugar.
GEORGE smiles. POPPY and SMITH are silent.
(Sings in a soft, refined voice.)
I was born in a trunk, by the side of the stage
Mum was a fairy and Dad was a page
While the corps was a-leaping and jumping about
I suddenly knew it was time to come out
I pushed and I pushed, as they pounded the boards
I pushed and I pushed, it was all major chords
But no matter how hard I tried on that day
There was something constricting got right in the way…
‘Is it me?’ said me mum
‘No it’s it,’ said me dad
‘Are you sure?’ said me mum.
‘Yes, I’m right.’
‘It’s not me.’ I did cry
‘And I’m telling you why.
It’s you coz your tights is too tight.’
GEORGE claps. SMITH can’t help but smile.
From the second I stood I just wanted to dance
I watched every show, I was all in a trance
So I knocked on the door of the grandmaster’s class
I said if you train me, I know that I’ll pass.
And he taught me of all the positions to do
Legs under and over, hands up and through
But no matter how hard, and I really did try
Not one of my partners could lift me on high.
‘Is it me?’ said the one
‘No it’s her,’ said the next
‘Are you sure?’ said the first
‘Yes, I’m right.’
‘It’s not me.’ I did cry
‘And I’m telling you why.
It’s you coz your tights is too tight.’
Now I’m top of the pile, the best there can be
Prima ballerina they love to call me
The model of elegance, beauty and grace
Expressive of attitude, arms, feet and face
I have my admirers, the flowers they throw
And the queues at my door do nothing but grow
Great lords lay themselves prostrate at my feet
All in search of my favours, they plead and entreat.
‘Is it me?’ begs the Duke
‘No it’s me,’ longs the Earl
‘Please have me,’ prays the Prince
‘How they fight.’
‘No can do.’ I do cry
‘And I’m telling you why.
There’s no room coz me tights is too tight.’
TOMMY sings in his own voice.
No can do, I do cry
And I’m telling you why
There’s no room any more
There’s no way, what’s it for
No can do, coz…
(Speaks.) Not only Leonora…
But all my old darlings…
He acknowledges SMITH, and extracts the odd prop from the bag…
(Speaks).
Nervous Nellie, twitches and tics
Juicy Lucy, grapes by the bunch
Sonia the Sleepwalker, zzzzz
Tessa the human trumpet, ba-da
Spoilt little Trixie-Belle, wah-wah-wah
Even Flighty Aphrodite, ahhhh…
He withdraws a pink-satin robe out of the bag.
Beautiful bit of satin this… Oh well, never mind…
He wistfully tosses it away.
(Sings.)
No can do…
Yes I’m through…
Coz their tights is too too too…
(Speaks.) Loosen up, my friends. Live a little! Spread your wings… and… Whoooosh… Wish me luck…
TOMMY leaps off and out into the world.
SMITH starts to look around the workshop, sizing up what’s there.
SMITH. And now?… What now…?
SMITH starts to explore items and materials in the workshop, considering each one with care.
POPPY. When did you know about George?
SMITH. Since the moment I laid eyes upon him.
POPPY. From the very first?
SMITH. I see people, you see.
POPPY. Why didn’t you tell me?
SMITH. If you didn’t see, Poppy, you didn’t see.
POPPY. But you could have…?
SMITH. Well, now you do see, yes?
POPPY. Now, I do…
SMITH. There you are.
POPPY. But no thanks to…
SMITH. And now… Ah… Now, let’s look beyond… let’s look afresh… How about…?
SMITH takes up some green satin, a pot of what sounds like beads and tailor’s shears.
Yes… Again let’s see… and leap?
SMITH vanishes behind the curtain.
POP
PY goes to her typewriter, opens a book and resumes her practising.
GEORGE. You’re improving.
POPPY ignores GEORGE and types.
Didn’t you say you decided to trust your heart?
POPPY. More fool me.
GEORGE. If you’re going to be a fool for anything, best be a fool for love, hey?
GEORGE takes her hand.
POPPY. What are you doing?
GEORGE. Do you still care for me?
POPPY. What?
GEORGE. I’m still the person I was last night, the one you decided for.
POPPY. Not to me, you’re not.
GEORGE. Let me make it up to you.
POPPY. How can you even begin.
GEORGE. Ask me something. Go on. Ask me. Anything you like.
POPPY. What’s your real name?
GEORGE. George Sampson.
POPPY. Tell me the truth for once!
GEORGE. I do drive autos, I did work as a doorman for a while, I was in the war…
POPPY. Playing the hero?
GEORGE. Doing my bit before it ended.
POPPY. What else did you do that you didn’t tell me?
GEORGE. Plaited my sisters’ hair… like you did.
POPPY. Where are they now, your sisters?
GEORGE. In cages.
POPPY. And you’re not?
GEORGE. Not any more.
POPPY. Lies wrap around a person like chains.
GEORGE. How have I been lying?
POPPY. Hiding such a secret!
GEORGE. Everyone hides secrets, don’t they?
POPPY. There’s secrets and… secrets!
GEORGE. So now you’re getting to know me better.
POPPY. Do I want to?
GEORGE. D’you think you could?
POPPY. Did your cage have a husband in it?
GEORGE. And children.
POPPY. D’you ever see them?
GEORGE. Not any more.
POPPY. Don’t you want to?
GEORGE. Better this way.
POPPY. Where are they?
GEORGE. They needed a good home.
POPPY. Do they have one now?
GEORGE. Sisters help each other in all sorts of ways.
POPPY. That must be hard for you.
GEORGE. It’s easier, as it goes.
POPPY. D’you mean that?
GEORGE. I do, yes.
POPPY. And your husband?
GEORGE. He went missing in Belgium.
POPPY. Did you love him?
GEORGE. Peas in a pod since we were nippers… Always in it together… Couldn’t be left behind like that… first him determined to join up… Would’ve joined him if I could’ve… and then he goes and goes missing… That was it… What was I meant to do, sit around and wait… Wait for what… the rest of my life?… So I got myself a uniform… like he had done… I went to search…
Poppy + George Page 6