MRS. BRAMSON (self-pityingly): I haven't anybody at all.
DAN: Oh … But I don't like to talk too much about my mother. (Putting a finger unobtrusively to his eye) Makes me feel … sort of sad … (With a sudden thought) She had the same eyes very wide apart as you, and—and the same very good hands.
MRS. BRAMSON (looking interestedly at her fingers): Oh?… And the same palpitations?
DAN: And the same palpitations. You don't mind me talking about your health, do you?
MRS. BRAMSON: No.
DAN: Well, d'you know, you ought to get used to lettingotherpeople do things for you.
MRS. BRAMSON (a great truth dawning on her): Yes!
DAN: You ought to be very careful.
MRS. BRAMSON: Yes! (After a pause, eyeing him as he smiles at her) You're a funny boy to be a page-boy.
DAN (shyly): D'you think so?
MRS. BRAMSON: Well, now I come to talk to you, you seem so much better class—I mean, you know so much of the world—
DAN: I've knocked about a good bit, you know. Never had any advantages, but I always tried to do the right thing.
MRS. BRAMSON (patronisingly): I think you deserve better— (sharply again) Talking of the right thing, what about Dora?
DAN (disarming): Oh, I know I'm to blame; I'm not much of a chap, but I'd put things straight like a shot if I had any money … But, you see, I work at the Tallboys, get thirty bob a week, with tips—but listen to me botherin' you with my worries and rubbish the state you're in … well!
MRS. BRAMSON: No, I can stand it.
OLIVIAcomes back from the sun-room.
(Pursing her lips, reflectively) I've taken a liking to you.
DAN: Well … (looking round at OLIVIA) That's very kind of you, Mrs. Bramson …
MRS. BRAMSON: It's the way you talked about your mother. That's what it was.
DAN: Was it?
OLIVIA (at the left window): Shall I pack these books?
DAN (going to her with alacrity, taking the parcel from her):I'll post them for you.
OLIVIA: Oh …
DAN: I'm passing Shepperley post office on the bike before post time to-morrow morning. With pleasure!
MRS. BRAMSON: Have you got to go back?
DAN: Now? Well, no, not really … I've finished on duty now I done that errand, and this is my half day.
MRS. BRAMSON (imperiously): Stay to lunch.
DAN (apparently taken aback, after a look atOLIVIA): Well—I don't like to impose myself—
MRS. BRAMSON: In the kitchen, of course.
DAN: Oh, I know—
MRS. BRAMSON: There's plenty of food! Stay to lunch!
DAN: Well—I don't know … all right, so long as you let me help a bit this morning … Don't you want some string for this? Where's it kep'?
MRS. BRAMSON: That woman knows. In the kitchen somewhere.
DAN: Through here?
He tosses the books on the sofa and hurries into the kitchen. MRS. BRAMSONholds out her hands and studies them with a new interest.
MRS. BRAMSON: That boy's got understanding.
OLIVIA: Enough to marry Dora?
MRS. BRAMSON: You ought to learn to be a little less bitter, my dear. Never hook a man if you don't. With him and that Dora, I'm not so sure it wasn't six of one and half a dozen of the other. I know human nature, and, mark my word, that boy's going to do big things.
A scurry in the garden. MRS. TERENCErushes in from the front door, madly excited.
MRS. TERENCE: The paper-boy's at the back gate, and says there's a placard in Shepperley, and it's got "News of the World—Shepperley Mystery" on it!
MRS. BRAMSON: What!
OLIVIA: They've got it in the papers!
MRS. TERENCE: They've got it in the papers! D'ye want any? (Beside herself.)
MRS. BRAMSON: Catch him quick!
MRS. TERENCE: First time I ever 'eard of Shepperley being in print before—hi!
She races out of the front door.
MRS. BRAMSON: Running around the house shouting like a lunatic!Sensation mad! Silly woman!
DORAruns in from kitchen.
DORA: They've got it in the papers!
MRS. BRAMSON: Go away!
MRS. TERENCE (off): I've bought three!
MRS. BRAMSON (shouting): Be QUIET!
MRS. TERENCEruns back with three Sunday newspapers and gives one toOLIVIAand one toMRS. BRAMSON.
OLIVIA (sitting left of the table): I expect it is a bit of an event.
MRS. TERENCE (leaning over the table, searching in her paper):'E says they're sellin' like ninepins—
MRS. BRAMSON (turning pages over, impatiently): Where is it?…
MRS. TERENCE: Oh, I expect it's nothing after all….
OLIVIA: Here it is…. (Reading) "Disappeared mysteriously … woods round the village being searched" … then her description … tall … blonde….
MRS. TERENCE: Blonde? I should think she is … I can't find it!
OLIVIA: Here's something … "A keeper in the Shepperley woods was closely questioned late last night, but he had heard nothing, beyond a woman's voice in the woods on the afternoon in question, and a man's voice, probably with her, singing 'Mighty Lak a Rose.' Enquiries are being pursued…."
MRS. BRAMSON: "Mighty Lak a Rose." What rubbish!…
MRS. TERENCE: Oh yes…. It's the 'eadline in this one. (Humming the tune absently as she reads) "Don't know what to call you, but you're mighty lak a rose." … Those men have done rummaging in the garden, anyway.
MRS. BRAMSON: I must go this minute and have a look at my pampas grass.And if they've damaged it I'll bring an action.
MRS. TERENCE: Fancy Shepperley bein' in print.
MRS. BRAMSON: Wheel me out, and don't talk so much.
MRS. TERENCE (manoeuvring her through the front door): I could talk me 'ead off and not talk as much as some people I could mention.
OLIVIAis alone. A pause. She spreads her paper on the table and findsDAN'Shat under it. She picks it up and looks at it; DANcomes in from the kitchen with a ball of tangled string, a cigarette between his lips. He is about to take the books into the kitchen, when he sees her. He crosses to her.
DAN: Excuse me … (Taking the hat from her, cheerfully) I thinkI'll hang it in the hall, same as if I was a visitor …
He does so, then takes up the book, sits on the sofa, and begins to unravel the string. A pause.
You don't mind me stayin' and havin' a bit o' lunch … in the kitchen, do you?
OLIVIA: It's not for me to say. As I told you before, I'm really a servant here.
DAN (after a pause): You're not a very ordinary servant, though, are you?
OLIVIA (turning over a page): N-no …
DAN: Neither am I.
He unpicks a knot, and begins to hum absentmindedly. The humming gradually resolves itself into faint singing.
(Singing) "I'm a pretty little feller … everybody knows …"
OLIVIA _looks up; a thought crosses her mind. She turns her head and looks at him.
The Curtain begins to fall slowly.
(Singing, as he intently unravels the string_)
"Don't know what to call me—but I'm mighty lak a rose…."
An afternoon twelve days later. The weather is a little duller.
MRS. BRAMSONis sitting on the right of the table in her invalid chair, puzzling out a game of patience. She has smartened up her appearance in the interval and is wearing purple, and earrings.OLIVIA _is sitting opposite her, smoking a cigarette, a pencil and pad on the table in front of her; she is pondering and writing. A portable gramophone on a small table next the desk is playing the H.M.V. dance record of "Dames."
A pause_. MRS. BRAMSONcoughs. She coughs again, and looks atOLIVIA,waving her hand before her, clearing away billows of imaginary smoke.
OLIVIA: I'm sorry. Is my cigarette worrying you?
MRS. BRAMSON (temper): Not at all. I like it!
OLIVIAstubs out her cigarette with a resigned look and goes on making notes. DANenters from the kitchen, keeping time to the music, carrying a bunch of roses, wearing overalls over flannel trousers and a brown golf jacket, and smoking. He goes to the fireplace and clumps the roses into a vase on the mantelpiece, humming the tune. He crosses to the gramophone, still in rhythm,MRS. BRAMSONkeeping time skittishly with her hands. He turns off the gramophone and looks overOLIVIA'Sshoulder at what she is writing.
DAN (singing): "Their home addresses … and their caresses … linger in my memory of … those beautiful dames" … (His hand to his forehead) That's me!
OLIVIAlooks at him coldly and continues her notes.
MRS. BRAMSON: It won't come out….
DANshrugs his shoulders, stands behindMRS. BRAMSON'Schair, and studies her play.OLIVIAfollows his example from her side.
OLIVIA (pointing to two cards): Look.
MRS. BRAMSON (infuriated): I saw that! Leave me alone, and don't interfere.
A pause.DAN _makes a quick movement and puts one card on another.
(Pleased and interested, quite unconscious to the difference in her attitude_) Oh, yes, dear, of course….
OLIVIA (asMRS. BRAMSONmakes a move): No, that's a spade.
MRS. BRAMSON (sharply): No such thing; it's a club. It's got a wiggle on it.
DAN: They both got wiggles on 'em. (Pointing to another card)This is a club.
MRS. BRAMSON: Oh yes, dear, so it is! OLIVIA (writing): The ironmonger says thereweretwo extra gallons of paraffin not paid for.
MRS. BRAMSON: And theywon'tbe paid for either—not if I have to go to law about it.
A pause. She coughs absently.
DAN: I'm sorry. Is my cigarette worrying you?
MRS. BRAMSON: No, no, dear.
This has its effect onOLIVIA. DANsits on the left of the table, where "East Lynne" is open on the table.
I'm sick of patience.
DAN (reading laboriously): "You old-fashioned child—"
MRS. BRAMSON: What?
DAN:East Lynne.
MRS. BRAMSON: Oh….
DAN (reading): "'You old-fashioned child!' retorted Mrs. Vane. 'Why did you not put on your diamonds?' 'I-did-put on my diamonds,' stammered Lady Isabel. 'But I—took them off again.' 'What on earth for?'" That's the other lady speaking there—
MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear….
DAN: "'What on earth for?' … 'I did not like to be too fine,' answered Lady Isabel, with a laugh—" (turning over) "—and a blush. 'They glittered so! I feared it might be thought I had put them on to look fine.'"
MRS. BRAMSON (absently): Good, isn't it?
DAN (flicking ash): Oh, yes, reelistic…. (Reading) "'I see you mean to set up among that class of people who pree-tend to dee-spise ornyment,' scornfully ree-marked Mrs. Vane. 'It is the ree-finement of aff-affectation, Lady Isabel——'"
An excited knock at the kitchen door.DORAenters.DANturns back the page and surveys what he has been reading, scratching his head.
MRS. BRAMSON (the old edge to her voice): What is it?
DORA: Them men's in the wood again.
MRS. BRAMSON: What men?
DORA: The men lookin' for that Mrs. Chalfont.
A pause.DANhums "Dames" under his breath.
MRS. BRAMSON: You don't mean to tell me they're still at it? But they've been pottering about since … when was that day Mr. Dan left the Tallboys?
DORA (stressing a little bitterly):MisterDan?
DAN (smiling): Ahem!…
DORA:MisterDan first came to work for you, mum, a week lastMonday….
MRS. BRAMSON: Well, I think it's a disgrace——
DORA:I've found something!
DAN'Shumming stops abruptly; he swivels round and looks atDORA,his face unseen by the audience.OLIVIAandMRS.BRAMSONstare atDORA;a pause.
MRS. BRAMSON:You'vefound something?
OLIVIA: What?
DORA (excited): This!
She holds out her left arm and lets jail from her fist the length of a soiled belt. A pause.OLIVIAputs down her pencil and pad, goes to her, and looks at the belt.
OLIVIA: Yes, of course, it's mine! I missed it last week….
MRS. BRAMSON (baulked of excitement): Oh yes, I thought I recognised it…. What nonsense!…
DANlooks at her; chuckling.
DORA (going, dolefully): I'm ever so disappointed….
She goes into the kitchen.OLIVIAgoes to the armchair by the fireplace.
MRS. BRAMSON: She'll be joining Scotland Yard next…. Go on, dear.
DAN (reading): "'It is the ree-finement of affectation, LadyIsabel——'"
_The clock chimes.
(Clapping his hands, to_ MRS. BRAMSON) Ah!
MRS. BRAMSON (pleased): Oh, Danny …
He hurries to the medicine cupboard and pours medicine into a spoon.HUBERTcomes in from the front door.
HUBERT (eagerly): Have you heard?
MRS. BRAMSON (eagerly): What?
HUBERT: Dora's found a belt!
MRS. BRAMSON (disappointed again): Oh … it was Olivia's.
HUBERT: I say, what a shame!…
MRS. BRAMSON: Tch, tch!… All this sensation-mong——
DANdrowns her speech by deftly pouring the spoonful of medicine down her throat. He pushes her chocolate-box towards her, and strides briskly into the hall.
Horrid….
DAN (taking a soft hat from the rack and putting it on): Good for you, though, the way you are….
MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear.
DAN (coming into the room, and beginning to take off his overalls): And now it's time for your walk…. (Smiling atOLIVIA) It's all right, I got trousers on…. (Peeling the overalls over his feet, and tossing them on to the left window-seat) Listen to me talking about your walk, when you'll be in a chair all the time…. (Chuckling, toHUBERT) That's funny, isn't it!… (Going toMRS. BRAMSON) Come on, I got your shawl and your rug in the hall….
MRS. BRAMSON (as he wheels her into the hall): Have you got my pills?
DAN: I got them in my pocket.
MRS. BRAMSON: And my chocolates?
DAN: I got them in my pocket too. Here's your hat—better put it on yourself.
MRS. BRAMSON: Yes, dear.
DAN: And here's your shawl.
MRS. BRAMSON: It isn't a shawl, it's a cape.
DAN: Well, I don't know, do I? And I carry your rug on my shoulder…. (To the others) See you later! Be good!
Shutting the front door, his voice dying as the chair passes the left window.
Down this way to-day….
A pause. HUBERT and OLIVIA look at each other.
OLIVIA (suddenly): What doyouthink of him?
HUBERT (a little taken aback): Him? Grannie's white-headed boy, you mean? Oh, he's all right. (Heavily.) A bit slow on the uptake, of course. I wish he'd occasionally take that fag-end out of his mouth.
OLIVIA: He does. Forher.
HUBERT: That's true. That's why he's made such a hit with her. Funny I haven't been able to manage it. In two weeks, too … it's uncanny.
OLIVIA: Uncanny?… I think it's clever.
HUBERT: You don't think he's a wrong 'un, do you?
OLIVIA: What do we know about him?
HUBERT: Why … his Christian name?
OLIVIA: And that's all.
HUBERT: He looks pretty honest.
OLIVIA: Looks? (After a pause.) It's rather frightening to think what a face can hide…. I sometimes catch sight of one looking at me. Careful lips, and blank eyes…. And then I find I'm staring at myself in the glass … and I realise how successfully I'm hiding the thoughts I know so well … and then I know we're all … strangers. Windows, with blinds, and behind them … secrets. What's behindhiseyes? (After a pause, with a smile) You're quite right, itismorbid.
HUBERT: D'you think he's a thief or something? By Jove, I left my links on the washstand before lunch!
OLIVIA: He's acting … every minute of the time. I know he is! But he's acting pretty well, because I don't knowhowI know…. He's walking about here all day, and talking a little, and smiling, and smoking cigarettes…. Impenetrable … that's what it is! What's going on—in his mind? What's he thinking of? (Vehemently) Heisthinking of something! All the time! What is it?
DAN enters from the front door and smiles broadly at them.
DAN: Anybody seen my lady's pills? It's a matter of life and death….I thoughtIhad 'em.
HUBERT chuckles.
OLIVIA (after a pause, in a level voice): Oh, yes. They're in the top drawer of the desk. I'm so sorry.
DAN: Thank you.
He salutes her, goes to the desk, and takes out the pills. They watch him.
MRS. BRAMSON (off) Danny!
DAN: Oh, yes, here they are….
HUBERT (to say something): Is she feeling off colour again?
DAN (on his way to the front door): Off colour? She's never been on it, man! To hear her go on you'd think the only thing left is artificial respiration, And chocolates…. (Laughing, and calling) Coming!
He goes, shutting the front door behind him.
HUBERT: No, really you have to laugh!
OLIVIA: But what you've just seen … that's exactly what I mean! It's acting! He's not being himself for a minute—it's all put on for our benefit … don't you see?
HUBERT (banteringly): D'you know, I think you're in love with him.
OLIVIA (with rather more impatience than is necessary): Don't be ridiculous.
HUBERT: I was only joking.
OLIVIA: He's common and insolent, and I dislike him intensely.
MRS. TERENCEcomes in from the kitchen.
MRS. TERENCE: What'll you 'ave for tea, scones or crumpets? Can't make both.
OLIVIA: What d'youthink of Dan?
MRS. TERENCE: Dan? Oh, 'e's all right. Bit of a mystery.
HUBERT: Oh.
MRS. TERENCE (shutting the kitchen door and coming into the middle of the room): Terrible liar, o' course. But then a lot of us are. Told me he used to 'unt to 'ounds and 'ave 'is own pack. Before 'e went up in the world and went as a page-boy, I suppose.
OLIVIA (toHUBERT): You see? He wouldn't try that on with us, but couldn't resist it with her.
HUBERT: I wonder how soon the old girl'll get his number?… Oh, but fair play, we're talking about the chap as if he were the most terrible——
MRS. TERENCE: Why, what's 'e done?
HUBERT: Exactly.
OLIVIA: I don't know, but I feel so strongly … Is Dora there?… (Calling cautiously) Dora!
MRS. TERENCE: Oh, she won't know anything. She's as 'alf-witted as she's lazy, and that's sayin' a lot. She'd cut 'er nose off to stop the dust-bin smelling sooner than empty it, she would.
DORAcomes in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
DORA: Did somebody say Dora?
OLIVIA: Has Dan said any more about marrying you?
DORA: No.She'asn't brought it up again, either.
OLIVIA: Does he talk to you at all?
DORA (perplexed): Oh … only how-do-you-do and beg-your-pardon. I've never really spent any time in 'is company, you see. Except, o' course—
HUBERT: Quite. What's your idea of him?
DORA: Oh…. (Moving to the centre of the room) 'E's all right. Takes 'is fun where 'e finds it. And leaves it…. Cracks 'imself up, you know. Pretends 'e doesn't care a twopenny, but always got 'is eye on what you're thinking of 'im … if you know what I mean.
OLIVIA: Yes, I do. That incredible vanity … they always have it.Always.
HUBERT: Who?
A pause.
OLIVIA: Murderers.
A pause. They stare at her.
HUBERT: Good God!…
MRS. TERENCE: D'you mean … this woman they're looking for?
OLIVIA: I'm sure of it.
MRS. TERENCE: But 'es's such a—such a ordinary boy—
OLIVIA: That's just it—and then he's suddenly so … extraordinary.I've felt it ever since I heard him sing that song—I told you—
HUBERT: That "mighty-lak-a-rose" thing, you mean? Oh, but it's a pretty well-known one—
OLIVIA: It's more than that. I've kept on saying to myself: No, murder's a thing we read about in the papers; it isn't real life; it can't touch us. … But it can. And it's here. All round us. In the forest … in this house. We're … living with it. (After a pause, rising decisively) Bring his luggage in here, will you, Mrs. Terence?
MRS. TERENCE (staggered): 'Is luggage? (Recovering, toDORA) Give me a 'and.
Wide-eyed, she goes into the kitchen, followed byDORA.
HUBERT: I say, this is a bit thick, you know—spying—
OLIVIA (urgently): We may never have the house to ourselves again.
She runs to each window and looks out across the forest.MRS. TERENCEreturns carrying luggage: one large and one small suitcase. DORAfollows, lugging an old-fashioned thick leather hat-box. MRS. TERENCEplaces the suitcases on the table; DORAplants the hat-box in the middle of the floor.
MRS. TERENCE (in a conspiratorial tone): This is all.
HUBERT: But look here, we can't do this—
OLIVIAsnaps open the lid of the larger suitcase with a jerk. A pause. They look, almost afraid. DORAmoves to the back of the table.
MRS. TERENCE (asOLIVIAlifts it gingerly): A dirty shirt …
HUBERT: That's all right.
OLIVIA: A clean pair of socks … packet of razor-blades …
HUBERT: We shouldn't be doing this—I feel as if I were at school again—
MRS. TERENCE: Singlet …
OLIVIA: Half ticket to Shepperley Palais de Danse …
MRS. TERENCE: Oh, it's a proper 'aunt!
DORA: Oh, 'ere's a pocket-book. With a letter.
(She gives the letter toMRS. TERENCEand the pocket-book toOLIVIA.)
HUBERT: Look here, this is going a bit too far—you can't do this to a chap—
MRS. TERENCE (taking the letter from the envelope): Don't be silly, dear, your wife'll do it to you 'undreds of times…. (Sniffing the note-paper) Pooh…. (Reading, as they crane over her shoulder) "Dear Baby-Face my own …" Signed Lil….
OLIVIA: What awful writing….
MRS. TERENCE (reading, heavily): "… Next time you strikeNewcastle, O.K. by me, baby…." Ooh!
HUBERT: Just another servant-girl…. Sorry, Dora….
DORA (lugubriously): O.K.
OLIVIA (rummaging in the pocket-book): Bus ticket to Thorburton, some snaps …
MRS. TERENCE: Look at 'erbust!
OLIVIA: Here's a group…. Look, Hubert….
HUBERTjoins her in front of the table.
HUBERT: This wench is rather fetching.
MRS. TERENCE (crowding between them): Look at'er!… The impudence, 'er being taken in a bathing-suit!…
DORA: He's not in this one, is 'e?
HUBERT (impressed): Oh, I say … theresheis!
MRS. TERENCE and DORA: who?
HUBERT: The missing female! In front of the tall man…. You remember the photograph of her in theMirror?
DORA: It's awful to think she may be dead. Awful….
MRS. TERENCE: Looks ever so sexy, doesn't she?
DORA: 'Ere's one of a little boy—
OLIVIA: How extraordinary….
HUBERT: What?
OLIVIA: It's himself.
DORA: The little Eton collar…. Oh, dear … ever so sweet, isn't it?MRS. TERENCE: Now that's what I call a real innocent face….
HUBERT (going to the centre of the room): Well, that's that….
OLIVIA: Wait a minute, wasn't there another one? (Seeing the hat-box) Oh, yes….
HUBERT (lifting it on to a chair): Oh, this; yes….
DORA: Old-fashioned, isn't it?
MRS. TERENCE: I should think he got it from a box-room at theTallboys—
OLIVIA (puzzled): But it looks so extraordinary—(_She gives a sudden gasp.)
They look at her. She is staring at the box. A pause._
HUBERT: What is it?
OLIVIA: I don't know…. Suppose there is something … inside it?
A pause. They stare at her, fascinated by her thought. The front door bangs. They are electrified into action: but it is too late. It isDAN.He goes briskly to the table.
DAN: She wants to sit in the sun now and have a bit ofEastLynne. Talk about changin' your mind—
He sees the suitcases on the table before him, and is motionless and silent. A pause. The others dare not move. He finally breaks the situation, takes up "East Lynne" from the table, and walks slowly back to the front door. He stops, looks round atHUBERT,smiles, and comes down to him. His manner is normal—too normal.
Could I have it back, please? It's the only one I got….
HUBERT: Oh … yes, of course…. (Handing him the pocket-book.)
DAN (taking it): Thank you very much.
HUBERT: Not at all … I … (ToOLIVIA) Here, you deal with this. It's beyond me.
DAN (to him): Did you see the picture of me when I was a little fellow?
HUBERT: Yes…. Very jolly.
DAN (turning toMRS. TERENCE): Didyou?It was in the inside of my wallet.
MRS. TERENCE: Oh … was it?
DAN: Yes. Where I should be keeping my money, only any bit of money I have I always keeponme. (Turning toHUBERT) Safer, don't you think?
HUBERT (smiling weakly): Ye-es….
DAN: I only keep one ten-bob note in this wallet, for emergencies…. (Looking) That's funny. It's gone.
He looks atHUBERT.The others look blankly at one another.… I expect I dropped it somewhere…. What did you think of the letter?
HUBERT: Letter?
DAN: You got in your hand.
HUBERT: Well, I didn't—er—
DAN: Means well, does Lil; but we had a row. (Taking back the letter) She would spy on me. And if there's anythin' I hate, it's spyin'. Don't you agree?
HUBERT: Ye-es.
DAN: I'd sooner have anythin' than a spy. (ToMRS. TERENCE) Bar a murderer, o' course.
A pause. He is arranging his property in his wallet.
HUBERT (incredulous): What—what did you say?
DAN (turning to him casually): Bar a murderer, o' course!
OLIVIAsteps forward. MRS. TERENCEsteps back from the chair on which the hat-box has been placed.
OLIVIA (incisively): Talking of murder, do you know anything about Mrs. Chalfont's whereabouts at the moment?
DANturns to her, and for the first time sees the hat-box. He stands motionless. A pause.
DAN: Mrs. Who? OLIVIA: You can't pretend you've never heard of her.
DAN (turning toHUBERT,recovering himself): Oh, Mrs.Chalfont'swhereabouts! I thought she said her name was Mrs. Chalfontswear. (Profusely) Silly…. Swear—about—couldn't think——
OLIVIA: Well?
DAN (still looking atHUBERT,brightly, after a pause):I've nothin' to go on, but I think she's been … murdered.
HUBERT: Oh, you do?
DAN: Yes, I do.
MRS. TERENCE: Who by?
DAN: They say she had several chaps on a string, and——(Suddenly) There was one fellow, a London chap, a bachelor, very citified—with a fair moust——(He stares atHUBERT.)
HUBERT (touching his moustache, unconsciously): What are you looking at me for?
DAN: Well … you wasn't round these parts the day she bunked, was you?
HUBERT: Yes, I was, as a matter of fact.
DAN (significantly): Oh….
MRS. BRAMSON'S VOICE (calling in the garden): Danny!
HUBERT (flustered): What in God's name are you getting at?
DANsmiles and shrugs his shoulders regretfully at him, and goes out through the front door.OLIVIAsits at the table.
MRS. TERENCE (toHUBERT,perplexed): Are you sure you didn't do it, sir?
HUBERT: I'm going out for a breath of air.
He takes his hat and stick as he goes through the hall, and goes out through the front door.
MRS. TERENCE (toOLIVIA): You don't still think—
OLIVIA: I won't say any more. I know how silly it sounds.
DORAruns into the kitchen, snivelling.
MRS. TERENCE (toOLIVIA): The way you worked us all up! Doesn't it all go to show—
She hearsDANreturn, and looks round apprehensively. He goes to the table slowly and looks at the two suitcases.
DAN (smiling, toMRS. TERENCE): Would you mind please givin' me a hand with the tidyin' up?… (Taking up the suitcases) And carryin' the other one?… (Going into the kitchen, followed byMRS. TERENCEcarrying the hat-box) Looks as if we're goin' on our holidays, doesn't it?…
OLIVIAis alone for a moment. She stares before her, perplexed.DANreturns. She looks away. He looks at her, his eyes narrowed. A pause. Studying her, he takes from a pocket of his jacket a formidable-looking clasp-knife, unclasps it, and tests the blade casually with his fingers. He glances at the mantelpiece, crosses to it, takes down a stick, and begins to sharpen the end of it.OLIVIAwatches him. A pause.OLIVIA:Didyou do it?
He whittles at the stick.
DAN: You wouldn't be bad-lookin' without them glasses.
OLIVIA: It doesn't interest me very much what I look like.
DAN: Don't you believe it…. (Surveying the shavings in the hearth) Tch!… Clumsy…. (Looking round, and seeing a newspaper lying on the table) Ah….
_He crosses to the table.
(Smiling, with the suspicion of a mock-bow_) Excuse me…. (He unfolds the newspaper on the table and begins to whittle the stick over it.)
OLIVIA: You're very conceited, aren't you?
DAN (reassuringly): Yes….
OLIVIA: And youareacting all the time, aren't you?
DAN (staring at her, as if astonished): Actin'? Actin' what? (Leaning over the table, on both arms) Look at the way I can look you in the eyes. I'll stare you out….
OLIVIA (staring into his eyes): I have a theory it's the criminals whocanlook you in the eyes, and the honest people who blush and look away.
DAN (smiling): Oh….
OLIVIA (after a pause, challenging): It's a very blank look, though, isn't it?
DAN (smiling): Is it?
OLIVIA: You are acting, aren't you?
DAN (after a pause, in a whisper, almost joyfully): Yes!
OLIVIA (fascinated): And what are you like when you stop acting?
DAN: I dunno, it's so long since I stopped.
OLIVIA: But when you're alone?
DAN: Then I act more than ever I do.
OLIVIA: Why?
DAN: I dunno; 'cause I like it…. (Breaking the scene, pulling a chair round to the table) Now what d'ye say ifIask a question or two for a change? (Sitting in the chair facing her) Just for a change…. Why can't you take a bit of an interest in some other body but me?
OLIVIA (taken aback): I'm not interested in you. Only you don't talk. That's bound to make people wonder.
DAN: I can talk a lot sometimes. A drop o' drink makes a power o' difference to me. (Chuckling) You'd be surprised…. Ah….
He returns to his work.
OLIVIA: I wonder if I would….
DAN: I know you would….
OLIVIA: I think I can diagnose you all right.
DAN: Carry on.
OLIVIA: You haven't any feelings … at all….
He looks slowly up at her. She has struck home.
But you live in a world of your own…. A world of your own imagination.
DAN: I don't understand so very well, not bein' so very liter-er-airy.
OLIVIA: You follow me perfectly well.
He shrugs his shoulders, laughs, and goes on whittling.
DAN: D'you still think there's been a bit o' dirty work?
OLIVIA: I don't know what to think now. I suppose not.
DAN (intent on his work, his back to the audience):Disappointed?
OLIVIA: What on earth do you mean?
DAN: Disappointed?
OLIVIA (laughing, in spite of herself): Yes, I suppose I am.
DAN: Why?
OLIVIA (the tension at last relaxed): Oh, I don't know…. Because nothing much has ever happened to me, and it's a dull day, and it's the depths of the country…. I don't know….
A piercing scream from the bottom of the garden. A pause.
MRS. BRAMSON (shrieking from the other side of the house):Danny!… Danny!
The clatter of footsteps in the garden. DORAruns in from the hall, breathless and terrified.
DORA: They're diggin' … in the rubbish-pit …
OLIVIA: Well?
DORA: There's something sticking out….
OLIVIA: What?
DORA: A hand … Somebody's hand!… Oh, Miss Grayne … somebody's hand….
She runs whimpering into the kitchen, asOLIVIArises and runs to the left window and looks out.
MRS. BRAMSON'S VOICE (calling off): Danny!
DANrises slowly, his back to the audience.
OLIVIA _turns and suddenly sees him. Horror grows in her face.
The blare of music. The lights dim out._
_The music plays in darkness for a few bars, then the curtain rises again. The music fades away.
Late afternoon, two days later._ OLIVIAis seated above the tablesnipping long cuttings from newspapers and pasting them into a ledger.A knock at the front door. She starts nervously. Another knock.MRS. TERENCEcomes in from the kitchen carrying a smoothing-iron.
MRS. TERENCE: If it's them police again, I'll bash their helmets in with this. If it lands me three months, I will.
OLIVIA: They're from Scotland Yard, and they don't wear helmets.
MRS. TERENCE: Then they're going to get 'urt…. (Going into the hall) I can tell by their looks what they think. And they better not think it, neither.
OLIVIA: And what do they think?
MRS. TERENCE (over her shoulder): They think it's me. I know they think it's me.
She goes into the hall and opens the front door.
HUBERT (outside): Good afternoon, Mrs. Terence.
MRS. TERENCE: Oh … come in, sir. (Coming back into the room)It's a civilian for a change.
She is followed byHUBERT.
HUBERT (toOLIVIA): I say, this is all getting pretty terrible, isn't it?
OLIVIA: Yes, terrible.
MRS. TERENCE: Oh, terrible, terrible. There's one word for it; it's terrible. Forty-eight hours since they found 'er. They'll never get 'im now.
HUBERT: Terrible….
MRS. TERENCE: There was another charabanc load just after two o'clock. All standin' round the rubbish-'cap eatin' sandwiches. Sensation, that's what it is.
OLIVIA: Would you like some food, Hubert?
HUBERT: Well, I—
MRS. TERENCE: They're still looking for the 'ead.
HUBERT (toOLIVIA,with a slight grimace): No, thanks. I had lunch.
MRS. TERENCE: Mangled, she was, mangled…. Did you see your name in theExpress, sir?
HUBERT: I—er—did catch a glimpse of it, yes.
MRS. TERENCE: Little did you think, sir, when you was digging that pit for my rubbish, eh? 'E may 'ave beenwatchin'you digging it … ooh! I have to sit in my kitchen and think about it.
HUBERT: Then why don't you leave?
MRS. TERENCE (indignantly): How can I leave, with the whole village waitin' on me to tell 'em the latest? (Going towards the kitchen) I 'eard 'er 'ead must have been off at one stroke. One stroke….
HUBERT: Really.
MRS. TERENCE (turning at the door): She wasn't interfered with, though.
She goes into the kitchen.
HUBERT: How they all love it…. How's the old lady bearing up in the old invalid chair, eh?
OLIVIA: She's bursting out of it with health. And loving it more than anybody. This is my latest job—a press-cutting book. There was a picture of her in theChronicleyesterday; she bought twenty-six copies.
HUBERT (taking his pipe out): She'll get to believe she did it herself in the end…. Is she in?
OLIVIA: She's gone over to Breakerly to interview a local paper.
HUBERT: The lad pushing the go-cart?… He's the devoted son all right, isn't he?
OLIVIA (after a pause): I don't talk to him much.
HUBERT: Nice fellow. I've thought a lot about that prying into his things—pretty bad show, really, you know. (Going to the left window) I wonder if they'll ever nab him?
OLIVIA (with a start): What do you mean?
HUBERT: The fellow who did it…. Wonder what he's doing now.
OLIVIA: I wonder.
HUBERT: Damn clever job, you know, quietly…. That was a rum touch, finding that broken lipstick in the rubbish-heap…. You know, the fact they still have no idea where this woman's head is——
OLIVIA (convulsively): Don't….
HUBERT: Sorry.
OLIVIA (after a pause): It's a bit of a strain.
HUBERT (earnestly): Then why don't you leave?
OLIVIA: I—I couldn't afford it.
HUBERT: But youcould, if you married me! Now, look here—— (Going to her) You said you'd tell me to-day. So here I am—er— popping the question again. There's nothing much to add, except to go over the old ground again, and say that I'm not what you'd call a terribly brainy chap, but I am straight.
OLIVIA: Yes, I know.
HUBERT: Though, again, I'm not the sort that gets into corners with a pipe and never opens his mouth from one blessed year's end to the other. I can talk.
OLIVIA: Yes, you can.
HUBERT: An all-round chap, really—that's me.
OLIVIA: Yes.
HUBERT: Well?
OLIVIA: I'm sorry, Hubert, but I can't.
HUBERT: You can't? But you told me that day we might make a go of it, or words to that effect——
OLIVIA: I've thought it over since then, and I'm afraid I can't.
A pause.
HUBERT: What's changed you?
OLIVIA: Nothing's changed me, Hubert. I've just thought the matter over, that's all.
A pause. He crosses towards the fireplace.
HUBERT: Is it another man?
OLIVIA (startled): Don't be silly. (Collecting herself)What man could I possibly meet, cooped up here?
HUBERT: Sorry. Can't be helped. Sorry.
DAN (in the garden): There we are.—Nice outing, eh—
OLIVIA: So am I.
The front door opens andDANwheels inMRS. BRAMSON.He is as serene as ever, but more animated than before. He is dressed the same as in the previous scene, and is smoking his usual cigarette.HUBERTsits at the table.
DAN (hanging up her rug in the hall): Back home again.—I put your gloves away——
MRS. BRAMSON (as he wheels her in): I feel dead. (ToHUBERT) Oh, it's you…. I feel dead.
DAN (sitting beside her on the sofa, full of high spirits): Don't you be a silly old 'oman, you look as pretty as a picture— strawberries and cream in your face, and not a day over forty; and when I've made you a nice cup of tea you'll be twenty-five in the sun and eighteen with your back to the light, so you think yourself lucky!
MRS. BRAMSON (as he digs her in the side): Oh, Danny, you are a terror! (To the others) He's been at me like this all the way. I must say it keeps me alive.
DAN (as she hands him her hat and cape): But you feel dead. I get you.
MRS. BRAMSON (kittenish): Oh, you caution! You'll be the death of me!
DAN (wagging his finger at her): Ah-ha! (Hanging up her things in the hall) Now what'd you like a drop of in your tea—gin, whisky, liqueur, brandy, or a nice dollop of sailor's rum, eh?
MRS. BRAMSON: Just listen to him! Now don't make me laugh, dear, because there's always my heart.
DAN (sitting beside her again): You've lost your heart, you know you have, to the little feller that pushes your pram—you know you have!
MRS. BRAMSON (laughing shrilly): Pram! Well! (Her laugh cut short) It's wicked to laugh, with this—this thing all round us.
DAN (sobering portentously): I forgot. (As she shivers) Not in a draught, are you? (Shutting the front door and coming down toHUBERT) D'you remember, Mr. Laurie, me pulling your leg about you havin' done it? Funniest thing out!… Talk about laugh!
MRS. BRAMSON (fondly): Tttt!…
DAN (a glint of mischief in his eyes): I think I better get the tea before I get into hot water.
He goes towards the kitchen.
OLIVIA: Mrs. Terence is getting the tea.
DAN (at the door): She don't make tea like me. I'm an old sailor, Miss Grayne. Don't you forget that.
He goes into the kitchen.
OLIVIA: I'm not interested, I'm afraid.
MRS. BRAMSON (wheeling herself to the front of the table): Look here, Olivia, you're downright rude to that boy, and if there's one thing that never gets a woman anywhere, it's rudeness. What have you got against him?
HUBERT: Surely he's got more to say for himself to-day than when I met him before?
MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, he's been in rare spirits all day.
HUBERT: Johnny Walker, judging by the whiff of breath I got just now.
MRS. BRAMSON: Meaning whisky?
HUBERT: Yes.
OLIVIA: I've never heard you make a joke before, Hubert.
HUBERT: Didn't realise it was one till I'd said it. Sorry.
MRS. BRAMSON: It's not a joke; it's a libel.
A knock at the front door.
Come in.
NURSE LIBBYenters from the front door.
The boy's a teetotaller.
HUBERT: Sorry; my mistake.
NURSE: Good afternoon. Shall I wait for you in your bedroom?
MRS. BRAMSON: Yes. I feel absolutely dead.
NURSE (turning at the bedroom, eagerly): Anything newrethe murder?
HUBERT: I believe her head was cut off at one stroke.
NURSE (brightly): Oh, poor thing….
She goes into the bedroom. DANreturns from the kitchen, carrying a tray of tea and cakes.
DAN: There you are, fresh as a daisy.—Three lumps, as per usual, and some of the cakes you like——
MRS. BRAMSON (as he pours out her tea): Thank you, dear…. Let me smell your breath. (After smelling it) Clean as a whistle. Smells of peppermints.
OLIVIA: Yes. There were some in the kitchen.
HUBERT: Oh.
MRS. BRAMSON (toHUBERT,asDANpours out two more cups): So you won't stay to tea, Mr.—er——
HUBERT: Er—(rising)—no, thank you….
DAN sits in HUBERT's chair.
I think I'll get off before it's dark. Good-bye, Mrs. Bramson. Good-bye,Mr.—er——
DAN (grinning and saluting): Dan. Just Dan.
He opens the press-cutting ledger.
HUBERT (to OLIVIA): Good-bye.
OLIVIA (rises): Good-bye, Hubert. I'm sorry.
DANraises his cup as if drinking a toast toMRS. BRAMSON.She follows suit.
HUBERT: Can't be helped…. It'll get dark early to-day, I think. Funny how the evenings draw in this time of year. Good night.
DAN: Good night.
HUBERT (to OLIVIA): Good-bye.
OLIVIA: Good-bye.
She goes to the right window-seat.
MRS. BRAMSON: Johnny Walker, indeed! Impertinence!
DAN (drinking tea and scanning press-cuttings): Johnny Walker?
MRS. BRAMSON: Never you mind, dear…. Any more of those terrible people called? Reporters? Police?
DAN (gaily): There's a definite fallin' off in attendance to-day.Sunday, I expect.
MRS. BRAMSON: Hush, don't talk like that, dear.
DAN: Sorry, mum.
MRS. BRAMSON: And don't call me "mum"!
DAN: Well, if I can't call you Mrs. Bramson, what can I call you?
MRS. BRAMSON: If you were very good, I might let you call me … mother!
DAN (mischievously, his hand to his forehead): O.K., mother.
MRS. BRAMSON (joining in his laughter): Oh, you are in a mood to-day! (Suddenly, imperiously) I want to be read to now.
DAN (crossing to the desk, in mock resignation): Your servant, mother o' mine…. What'll you have?The Channings? The Red Court Farm?
MRS. BRAMSON: I'm tired of them.
DAN: Well … oh! (Taking a large Bible from the top of the desk) What about the Bible?
MRS. BRAMSON: The Bible?
DAN: It's Sunday, you know. I was brought up on it!
MRS. BRAMSON: So was I …East Lynne'snice, though.
DAN: Not as nice as the Bible.
MRS. BRAMSON (doubtfully): All right, dear; makes a nice change…. Not that I don't often dip into it.
DAN: I'm sure you do. (Blowing the dust off the book) Now where'll I read?
MRS. BRAMSON (unenthusiastic): At random's nice, don't you think, dear?
DAN: At random…. Yes….
MRS. BRAMSON: The Old Testament.
DAN (turning over leaves thoughtfully): At random in the OldTestament's a bit risky, don't you think so?
MRS. TERENCEcomes in from the kitchen.
MRS. TERENCE (to MRS. BRAMSON): The paperboy's at the back door and says you're in theNews of the Worldagain.
MRS. BRAMSON (interested): Oh!… (Simulating indifference) That horrible boy again, when the one thing I want is to blot the whole thing out of my mind.
MRS. TERENCE: 'Ow many copies d'you want?
MRS. BRAMSON: Get three.
MRS. TERENCE:And'e says there's a placard in Shepperley with your name on it.
MRS. BRAMSON: What does it say?
MRS. TERENCE: "Mrs. Bramson Talks."
She goes back towards the kitchen.
MRS. BRAMSON: Oh. (AsMRS. TERENCEreaches the kitchen door) Go at once into Shepperley and order some. At once!
MRS. TERENCE: Can't be done.
MRS. BRAMSON: Can't be done? What d'you mean, can't be done? It's a scandal. What are you paid for?
MRS. TERENCE (coming back, furious): I'm not paid! And 'aven't been for two weeks! And I'm not coming to-morrow unless I am! Put that in your copybook and blot it.
She goes back into the kitchen, banging the door.
MRS. BRAMSON: Isn't paid? Is she mad? (ToOLIVIA) Are you mad?Why don't you pay her?
OLIVIA (coming down): Because you don't give me the money to do it with.
MRS. BRAMSON: I—(fumbling at her bodice)—wheel me over to that cupboard.
OLIVIAis about to do so, when she catchesDAN'Seye.
OLIVIA (toDAN,pointedly): Perhaps you'd go into the kitchen and get the paper from Mrs. Terence?
DAN (after a second's pause, with a laugh): Of course I will, madam! Anythin' you say! Anythin' you say!
He careers into the kitchen, still carrying the Bible.MRS. BRAMSONhas fished up two keys on the end of a long black tape.OLIVIAwheels her over to the cupboard above the fireplace.
OLIVIA: If you give me the key, I'll get it for you.
MRS. BRAMSON: No fear! _She unlocks the cupboard; it turns out to be a small but very substantial safe.
(Unlocking the safe, muttering to herself_)
Won't go into Shepperley, indeed … never heard of such impertinence….
She takes out a cash-box from among some deeds, unlocks it with the smaller key, and takes out a mass of five-pound and pound notes.
The way these servants—what are you staring at? OLIVIA: Isn't it rather a lot of money to have in the house?
MRS. BRAMSON: "Put not your trust in banks" is my motto, and always will be.
OLIVIA: But that's hundreds of pounds! It——
MRS. BRAMSON (handing her two notes): D'you wonder I wouldn't let you have the key?
OLIVIA: Has … anybody else asked you for it?
MRS. BRAMSON (locking the cash-box and putting it back in the safe): I wouldn't let a soul touch it. Not a soul. Not even Danny.
She snaps the safe, locks it, and slips the keys back into her bosom.
OLIVIA: Hasheasked you for it?
MRS. BRAMSON: It's enough to have those policemen prying, you forward girl, without——
OLIVIA (urgently): Please! Has he?
MRS. BRAMSON: Well, he did offer to fetch some money yesterday for the dairy. But I wouldn't give him the key! Oh, no!
OLIVIA: Why?
MRS. BRAMSON: Do I want to see him waylaid and attacked, and my key stolen? Oh, no, I told him, that key stays on me—
OLIVIA: Did he—know how much money there is in there?
MRS. BRAMSON: I told him! Do you wonder I stick to the key, I said— whatisthe matter with you, all these questions?
OLIVIA: Oh, it's no use—
She goes to the armchair below the fireplace and sits in it.DANreturns from the kitchen, with a copy of the "News of the World," the Bible tucked under his arm, a cigarette stub between his lips.
DAN: He says they're sellin' like hot cakes! (Handing the paper toMRS. BRAMSON) There you are, I've found the place for you—whole page, headlines an' all….
MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, yes….
DAN _stands with one knee on the sofa, and turns over the pages of his Bible.
(Reading breathlessly, her back to the fireplace_)
"… The Victim's Past" … with another picture of me underneath! (Looking closer, dashed) Oh, taken at Tonbridge the year before the war; really it isn't right…. (ToOLIVIA,savouring it) "The Bungalow of Death!… Gruesome finds…. Fiendish murderer still at large…. The enigma of the missing head … where is it buried?" … Oh, yes! (She goes on reading silently to herself.)
DAN (suddenly, in a clear voice): "… Blessed is the man … that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly … nor standeth in the way of sinners … nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful…."