Only Our Own

by Anne Henning Jocelyn

  MEG: They grumbled yesterday about having to walk, when all their friends are delivered in motor-cars.

  Things have certainly changed in Connemara.

  The parents of these same children had to walk barefoot to school, each carrying a sod of turf for the school-room fire.

  ANDREW: I like to take them the long way round, through the oak forest. I tell them it was planted by their great-grandfather.

  No better place to make them aware of nature’s seasonal changes.

  I just love the sight of the two of them skipping happily along the sun-dappled path…

  Hercules shuffling along behind them.

  MEG: Poor old Hercules. He won’t be with us for much longer.

  Cathal will be heart-broken when he goes.

  ANDREW: Do you know what Dr Williams said the other day when he came to fish?

  He looked at Aoife and Cathal watching an otter on the riverbank, and he said:

  What you are giving your grandchildren is the best possible start in life.

  MEG: He said that?

  ANDREW: (Looking at his watch.) Gosh – it’s seven o’clock already!

  I have the gang coming up for their fly-fishing lesson.

  MEG: You’re not too tired?

  ANDREW: Not at all, it’s pure pleasure. They’re all doing great.

  Even that featherhead Deirdre is getting the knack of casting.

  MEG: What about dinner?

  ANDREW: Never mind. We’ll have a quick snack before the meeting.

  Now, I’d better get my rods…

  He exits.

  MEG sits down again with her knitting.

  MEG: (Smiling to herself.) The best possible start in life…

  BLACK OUT.

  MUSIC: Allegretto.

  SCENE 2.

  LIGHTS UP on drawing-room.

  ANDREW is seated, reading the Irish Times.

  MEG enters with a tray: a coffee-pot and three small cups.

  MEG: Is she still up there?

  ANDREW: (Nodding.) Taking her time over the bedtime stories.

  MEG: They probably won’t let her go –

  ANDREW: We had a good chat on the way back from the airport.

  She apologized about staying away so long.

  But she’s had her hands full building up her business.

  MEG: I must say I’m surprised at her new career.

  Have you ever known her boil as much as an egg?

  ANDREW: Oh she doesn’t do any cooking.

  The partner – Lucinda – is the master chef.

  Titania handles the bookings – with great aplomb, it seems.

  Aiming at the top end of the market: board rooms in the City, clients happy to pay through the nose for a superior catering service.

  MEG: Is that how she met this… Spencer?

  ANDREW: Presumably.

  MEG: Did she tell you any more about him?

  ANDREW: Only that he works day and night.

  In banking you have to, nowadays.

  MEG: Fancy getting engaged to a man we’ve never even met.

  He might have had the courtesy to come over with her.

  ANDREW: I get the impression he’s not a country type at all.

  Useless with a rod, I bet.

  MEG: Spencer Powell Jr. American investment banker.

  Some contrast to what went before.

  ANDREW: Well this one at least should be able to provide for her.

  MEG: She’s become like a different person.

  ANDREW: Very glamorous.

  MEG: Did you see those pointy stiletto heels?

  A recipe for chilblains on these cold floors.

  Pause.

  MEG: Even her name isn’t good enough any more.

  ‘Tania’, she told me, ‘is less of a mouthful’.

  More to the point: ‘Spencer prefers it.’

  Never mind Shakespeare.

  ANDREW: Oh well. It’s better than ‘Tits’.

  MEG: ‘Tits’?

  ANDREW: What her former paramour used to call her.

  MEG: To me she’ll never be anything but Titania.

  Pause.

  MEG serves coffee for them both.

  MEG: I’m glad she made it home anyway.

  Aoife would have been so disappointed.

  ANDREW: It was a perfect ending to her birthday.

  Presents like she’s never seen before.

  MEG: I could have spared myself a lot of trouble, had I known that my Aran sweater would be instantly outshone by ‘Ralph Lauren for kids’.

  ANDREW: Cathal was so excited about his remote control boat, he wanted to go straight down to the river to try it out.

  I had to tell him it might get lost in the dark.

  MEG: It’s not even his birthday!

  I don’t really like to see them spoilt like this.

  ANDREW: I suppose it’s her way of compensating for spending so little time with them.

  Enter TITANIA, very glamorous indeed.

  She goes over to a drinks tray and pours herself a large brandy.

  TITANIA: I don’t like what goes on in that school of theirs.

  ANDREW: Excuse me?

  TITANIA: All this religious claptrap.

  ANDREW: Oh. Well. It is a Catholic school –

  MEG: You were the one who insisted they go to the local school.

  TITANIA: How was I to know?

  ANDREW: We’ve had no problems so far.

  The principal is a sensible lay-woman.

  Very sympathetic.

  TITANIA: They have to do penance!

  Go up in front of everyone to confess their sins to the priest.

  As if they’d have anything to confess!

  Cathal said the only thing he could think of was once when he was three – when he pulled the cat’s tail!

  MEG: We did think of keeping them out of these rituals – but we have to tread carefully.

  We don’t want to draw too much attention to the fact that they are the first Protestant children ever to be taught in this school.

  TITANIA: What makes them Protestant, if I may ask?

  ANDREW: Well – they have been baptized into the Church of Ireland.

  TITANIA: You’ve done that? Had them baptized? Without my permission?

  ANDREW: Would you have given it?

  TITANIA: Certainly not.

  MEG: We felt we owed it to them.

  TITANIA: I want my children to decide these things for themselves –

  once they are old enough.

  ANDREW: For that they’ll need something on which to base their decision.

  Pause.

  TITANIA: I know what it’s like to grow up an outsider. I told you, it’s the one thing I want to protect my children from.

  ANDREW: Make up your mind, girl!

  Do you want them to grow up without religion or fit in with the other children at school?

  They can’t do both.

  TITANIA: As Protestants they can’t do either!

  MEG: Come now, Titania.

  Aoife and Cathal are perfectly well adjusted.

  They get on well with everyone –

  TITANIA: They’re hopelessly mixed up!

  ANDREW: I don’t know what rubbish they’ve been filling you up with –

  TITANIA: They both want to become Catholics!

  MEG: What?

  TITANIA: Aoife is determined to make her First Communion this year.

  MEG: Of course. She wants to have a pretty dress, veil and parasol and lacy knickers, and be showered with money and presents like the other little girls.

  But we’ve explained to her that this is something she will simply have to do without.

  TITANIA: Why? Why can’t she have her dress and her party?

  Just keep the religious bit out of it.

  MEG: That wouldn’t be right.

  One has to respect the significance of this event –

  TITANIA: Oh don’t be so damned sanctimonious!

  Silenc
e.

  ANDREW: Titania – you know that, in these parts, religion is a sensitive issue.

  TITANIA: Only if you make it so.

  MEG: What can we do about it?

  TITANIA: Something. Anything. Get a spokesman for human rights to visit the school. Let them know that everyone is entitled to believe what they like.

  ANDREW: I wish it were that simple.

  MEG: Try to understand, dear. There is no way we can be seen to interfere with a Catholic school.

  TITANIA: Why?

  MEG: The last thing we want is to appear evangelist.

  TITANIA: Evangelist?

  ANDREW: You know about the Protestant missions.

  The damage they did.

  MEG: They left the likes of us with no option but to keep our heads well down.

  TITANIA: (Bursting out.) For God’s sake!

  Does no one here live in the present?

  Pause.

  TITANIA drains her glass, all the while thinking hard.

  TITANIA: Okay. I have the answer.

  MEG: You do?

  TITANIA: The children can come and stay with me in London over the Easter holidays. I’ll take Aoife to Harrods, to pick for herself an outfit to rival any Irish communion dress.

  And Cathal – Cathal can be let loose in Hamleys.

  Pause.

  TITANIA yawns.

  TITANIA: Well, I’m off to bed. I’ve had a long day. Good night.

  She exits.

  BLACK OUT.

  MUSIC: Dissonant.

  SCENE 3

  LIGHTS UP on drawing-room.

  ANDREW enters with a turf bucket, proceeds to laying a fire.

  MEG: (Off.) Andrew!

  MEG, seriously distraught, walks in, waving a letter.

  MEG: We’ve had a letter from Titania!

  ANDREW: Oh good.

  MEG: She says she’s not coming home for Christmas!

  ANDREW: Really? That’s a first.

  MEG: She’s going with Spencer to his home in New England.

  ANDREW: What a pity. I’ve been looking forward to introducing my future son-in-law to the pleasures of country living. A couple of days out on the bog shooting snipe…

  MEG: It would have been a perfect occasion for him to see this place at its best.

  ANDREW: (Smiling.) I remember the first Christmas I spent here.

  After years in the army, where the holiday amounted to no more than a few extra gin-and-tonics and a better-than-usual mess dinner…

  It made me realize the privilege of having a proper home… the value of tradition and continuity…

  MEG: And now that we have the children,

  Christmas has taken on a whole new meaning.

  ANDREW: Like so many things.

  Pause.

  MEG: Andrew – she wants them to go, too.

  ANDREW: What?

  MEG: She wants to take them to America.

  For Christmas.

  ANDREW: That’s not on.

  MEG: No.

  ANDREW: We’d better ring her up straight away.

  Tell her it’s out of the question.

  MEG: Yes. I’ll speak to her.

  She goes to the telephone, dials.

  MEG: (Into the phone.) Hello… Titania, dear… We just got your letter…

  Yes… But I’m afraid it’s not possible. Aoife and Cathal are both in the school play. They’ve been rehearsing for weeks and the performance is due on the 22nd of December.

  Response from TITANIA.

  MEG: (Agitation mounting.) But then there’s Christmas Eve… when we meet up with the other children and their families to go carol-singing…

  And then we’ve organised a concert to raise money towards a new day care centre.

  It will take place in our church, where most of the others have never set foot before.

  It’s an important part of our efforts to build bridges…

  the children need to be here for that.

  Response from TITANIA.

  MEG: (Pleading.) Titania – you know very well how much the festive season means to us here.

  Aoife and Cathal look forward all year to the fun and excitement in the run-up to Christmas.

  It wouldn’t be fair to deprive them of that.

  Response from TITANIA.

  MEG, on the verge of tears, looks helplessly at ANDREW.

  ANDREW: What is she saying?

  MEG: (Tearfully.) She is going to book them on a flight from Shannon on December the 23rd. So that they can do the play and prepare for Christmas as usual.

  (Voice breaking.) But what’s the point of preparing for the big day if they are not going to be here for it?

  ANDREW takes the phone from her.

  ANDREW: Listen, Titania – you can’t treat your children like this.

  They are entitled to their own say in the matter.

  Let them choose for themselves where they want to spend Christmas.

  Response from TITANIA.

  ANDREW: All right – I’ll put it to them.

  And let you know what they decide…

  Fine. Good-bye for now.

  He hangs up, turns to MEG, who looks happier now.

  MEG: Oh darling – this is bound to work out in our favour.

  ANDREW: I wouldn’t bank on it.

  MEG: You think they’d rather…?

  ANDREW: You know how taken they were with London.

  MEG: If I hear one more word about sweet shops open all night… cinemas and amusement arcades…the place

  ‘where you can ice-skate in the middle of summer’…

  ANDREW: Not to mention Spencer’s awesome red Ferrari.

  MEG: It’s like fighting a dragon!

  ANDREW: (After a moment’s reflection.)

  I think it’s time we found the children some healthy, wholesome new diversions…something to absorb them… make them appreciate what’s on offer here, that you can’t have in big cities.

  MEG: Like what?

  ANDREW: Perhaps a Shetland pony for Aoife.

  She’s old enough now to join the pony club.

  MEG: Oh yes! And Cathal could have a puppy of his own – a new little Pekingese.

  ANDREW: Wouldn’t a Jack Russel terrier be better suited to the rough terrain around here?

  MEG: Whatever. Oh imagine their faces when they wake up on Christmas morning to discover what Santa has brought!

  ANDREW: If they’re here, that is.

  MEG: Dear God – what kind of Christmas will it be for us without the children?

  ANDREW: Oh well.

  We’ll soon have them back again.

  MEG: It will be dismal.

  Worse than anything you had in the army.

  ANDREW: We’ll make up for it on their return.

  The pets can be there as surprise home-coming gifts, bound to outshine anything proffered by New England.

  Or London, for that matter.

  MEG: You really think they’ll go?

  ANDREW: If they do, we’ll fight back.

  Remember – I’m a trained military strategist.

  MEG: And a wonderful grandfather.

  They smile.

  BLACK OUT.

  MUSIC: Sedate Christmas carol.

  SCENE 4

  LIGHTS UP on the room.

  MEG on stage. ANDREW enters carrying an open cardboard box, looks around conspiratorially.

  ANDREW: (In a hushed voice.) Where are they?

  I saw the hire-car outside.

  MEG: Titania took them straight up to bed.

  They were exhausted.

  ANDREW: But I have it all set up!

  The pony in the stable, the puppy here –

  (Indicates box.)

  MEG goes up, looks into it.

  MEG: Oh he’s adorable.

  But there was no point keeping them up when they couldn’t keep their eyes open.

  ANDREW: I know what I’ll do.

  I’ll slip into Cathal’s room in the morning before he wakes up and l
eave the puppy there as a surprise.

  MEG: (Laughs.) Pity we can’t do the same with the pony.

  (Pats the puppy.) Hello, little fellow.

  Welcome to your new home.

  ANDREW: I’ll leave him in the kitchen overnight.

  By the Aga, where it’s nice and warm.

  He exits stage left with the box.

  Enter TITANIA stage right.

  TITANIA: Where is father?

  MEG: He’ll be right back.

  TITANIA: I want to have a word with both of you.

  ANDREW returns.

  TITANIA waits for him to fix himself a drink and sit down.

  TITANIA: I’ll tell you now our main reason for going to the States.

  Spencer has been signed up by a major U.S. bank – a senior position at their headquarters in New York.

  Salary in six figures.

  ANDREW: Congratulations. That’s great news.

  TITANIA: His contract starts on the first of April.

  We plan to get married before then.

  MEG: My darling girl – how wonderful.

  A spring wedding in Connemara…

  I hope you’ll fit into my bridal gown.

  Your grandmother wore it as well.

  It came over from England, the veil is of Brussels lace…

  TITANIA: Actually, we’re not having a church wedding.

  It will be a registry office in New York.

  I’ll be over there anyway, house-hunting.

  MEG: Oh.

  TITANIA: We’ll be looking for a place out of town, within commuting distance.

  Nice and spacious, suitable for raising a family.

  ANDREW: You plan to have more children?

  TITANIA: Well, no.

  Spencer can’t have children of his own.

  So he’s going to adopt Aofie and Cathal.

  MEG and ANDREW stare at her, aghast.

  ANDREW: This is – very sudden.

  TITANIA: It’s what I’ve been working for all these years.

  The day when I could have my children back.

  MEG: It will be a big change for them.

  TITANIA: They’ll be better off in America.

  ANDREW: I’m not so sure of that.

  TITANIA: Really, father.

  What chance would they have in a place like this?

  What would become of them?

  Pause.

  MEG: Titania – we’ve come a long way since you left.

  Things are not the way you remember them.

  ANDREW: And this is not just about us. Our family.

  There are wider issues at stake.

  TITANIA: The only issue of concern to me is my children.

  Their future.

  ANDREW: Something important is taking place here.