A Voyage Round My Father

by John Mortimer

  LILY. And that poor husband?

  TONY. Unexpectedly lamed that very afternoon. A taxi had run over his foot, so she explained it in the spare room.

  LILY. And you walked straight up to her?

  TONY. Quick work wasn’t it?

  LILY. A quick worker, Tony.

  TONY. No grass grows under Tony Peters, thank God.

  ARTHUR. I made sure that story would end up as disgusting.

  LILY. Oh Tony! What adventures you’ve had!

  TONY. Adventures, thank goodness, still come to me.

  He looks longingly at LILY. She puts an elbow on his knee and gazes into the electric fire.

  ARTHUR. Isn’t the room big enough? Do you have to sit on top of one another?

  TONY. Now Headmaster. It’ll soon be time for roll-call.

  LILY (thoughtfully). I haven’t really had many adventures. Have you, Arthur?

  ARTHUR. What?

  LILY. Had many adventures?

  ARTHUR (reading). Was that Henry II?

  TONY. Was what Henry II?

  ARTHUR. The chap whose son was drowned?

  TONY. Drowned?

  ARTHUR. In the White Ship.

  TONY picks up his ukelele and sings to LILY.

  TONY (singing).

  ‘Here we sit like birds in the wilderness,

  Birds in the wilderness.’

  ARTHUR (closing the exercise book and beginning to shout). Peters. Bin. Stop goading me both of you. Don’t you even wait now until I’m decently out of the room?

  TONY (singing).

  ‘Here we sit like birds in the wilderness,

  Down in Demerara.

  As the ship went down.’

  ARTHUR (standing up and hitting his desk with a tremendous crash with his fist). Stop singing to my wife! Take your greedy eyes off her!

  ARTHUR and LILY look at each other with deep affection.

  TONY plays a note on his ukelele. ARTHUR exits.

  Curtain