INSPECTOR: The girl’s dead though.
SHEILA: What do you mean by saying that? You talk as if we were responsible –
BIRLING [cutting in]: Just a minute, Sheila. Now, Inspector, perhaps you and I had better go and talk this over quietly in a corner –
SHEILA [cutting in]: Why should you? He’s finished with you. He says it’s one of us now.
BIRLING: Yes, and I’m trying to settle it sensibly for you.
GERALD: Well, there’s nothing to settle as far as I’m concerned. I’ve never known an Eva Smith.
ERIC: Neither have I.
SHEILA: Was that her name? Eva Smith?
GERALD: Yes.
SHEILA: Never heard it before.
GERALD: So where are you now, Inspector?
INSPECTOR: Where I was before, Mr Croft. I told you – that like a lot of these young women, she’d used more than one name. She was still Eva Smith when Mr Birling sacked her – for wanting twenty-five shillings a week instead of twenty-two and six. But after that she stopped being Eva Smith. Perhaps she’d had enough of it.
ERIC: Can’t blame her.
SHEILA [to BIRLING]: I think it was a mean thing to do. Perhaps that spoilt everything for her.
BIRLING Rubbish! [To INSPECTOR] Do you know what happened to this girl after she left my works?
INSPECTOR: Yes. She was out of work for the next two months. Both her parents were dead, so that she’d no home to go back to. And she hadn’t been able to save much out of what Birling and Company had paid her. So that after two months, with no work, no money coming in, and living in lodgings, with no relatives to help her, few friends, lonely, half-starved, she was feeling desperate.
SHEILA [warmly]: I should think so. It’s a rotten shame.
INSPECTOR: There are a lot of young women living that sort of existence in every city and big town in this country, Miss Birling. If there weren’t, the factories and warehouses wouldn’t know where to look for cheap labour. Ask your father.
SHEILA: But these girls aren’t cheap labour – they’re people.
INSPECTOR [dryly]: I’ve had that notion myself from time to time. In fact, I’ve thought that it would do us all a bit of good if sometimes we tried to put ourselves in the place of these young women counting their pennies in their dingy little back bedrooms.
SHEILA: Yes, I expect it would. But what happened to her then?
INSPECTOR: She had what seemed to her a wonderful stroke of luck. She was taken on in a shop – and a good shop too – Milwards.
SHEILA: Milwards! We go there – in fact, I was there this afternoon – [archly to GERALD] for your benefit.
GERALD [smiling]: Good!
SHEILA: Yes, she was lucky to get taken on at Milwards.
INSPECTOR: That’s what she thought. And it happened that at the beginning of December that year – nineteen-ten – there was a good deal of influenza about, and Milwards suddenly found themselves short-handed. So that gave her her chance. It seems she liked working there. It was a nice change from a factory. She enjoyed being among pretty clothes, I’ve no doubt. And now she felt she was making a good fresh start. You can imagine how she felt.
SHEILA: Yes, of course.
BIRLING: And then she got herself into trouble there, I suppose?
INSPECTOR: After about a couple of months, just when she felt she was settling down nicely, they told her she’d have to go.
BIRLING: Not doing her work properly?
INSPECTOR: There was nothing wrong with the way she was doing her work. They admitted that.
BIRLING: There must have been something wrong.
INSPECTOR: All she knew was – that a customer complained about her – and so she had to go.
SHEILA [staring at him, agitated]: When was this?
INSPECTOR [impressively]: At the end of January – last year.
SHEILA: What – what did this girl look like?
INSPECTOR: If you’ll come over here, I’ll show you.
[He moves nearer a light – perhaps standard lamp – and she crosses to him. He produces the photograph. She looks at it closely, recognizes it with a little cry, gives a half-stifled sob, and then runs out. The INSPECTOR puts the photograph back into his pocket and stares speculatively after her. The other three stare in amazement for a moment.]
BIRLING: What’s the matter with her?
ERIC: She recognized her from the photograph, didn’t she?
INSPECTOR: Yes.
BIRLING [angrily]: Why the devil do you want to go upsetting the child like that?
INSPECTOR: I didn’t do it. She’s upsetting herself.
BIRLING: Well – why – why?
INSPECTOR: I don’t know – yet. That’s something I have to find out.
BIRLING [still angrily]: Well – if you don’t mind – I’ll find out first.
GERALD: Shall I go to her?
BIRLING [moving]: No, leave this to me. I must also have a word with my wife – tell her what’s happening. [Turns at door, staring at INSPECTOR angrily.] We were having a nice little family celebration tonight. And a nasty mess you’ve made of it now, haven’t you?
INSPECTOR [steadily]: That’s more or less what I was thinking earlier tonight, when I was in the Infirmary looking at what was left of Eva Smith. A nice little promising life there, I thought, and a nasty mess somebody’s made of it.
[BIRLING looks as if about to make some retort, then thinks better of it, and goes out, closing door sharply behind him. GERALD and ERIC exchange uneasy glances. The INSPECTOR ignores them.]
GERALD: I’d like to have a look at that photograph now, Inspector.
INSPECTOR: All in good time.
GERALD: I don’t see why –
INSPECTOR [cutting in, massively]: You heard what I said before, Mr Croft. One line of inquiry at a time. Otherwise we’ll all be talking at once and won’t know where we are. If you’ve anything to tell me, you’ll have an opportunity of doing it soon.
GERALD [rather uneasily]: Well, I don’t suppose I have –
ERIC [suddenly bursting out]: Look here, I’ve had enough of this.
INSPECTOR [dryly]: I dare say.
ERIC [uneasily]: I’m sorry – but you see – we were having a little party – and I’ve had a few drinks, including rather a lot of champagne – and I’ve got a headache – and as I’m only in the way here – think I’d better turn in.
INSPECTOR: And I think you’d better stay here.
ERIC: Why should I?
INSPECTOR: It might be less trouble. If you turn in, you might have to turn out again soon.
GERALD: Getting a bit heavy-handed, aren’t you, Inspector?
INSPECTOR: Possibly. But if you’re easy with me, I’m easy with you.
GERALD: After all, y’know, we’re respectable citizens and not criminals.
INSPECTOR: Sometimes there isn’t as much difference as you think. Often, if it was left to me, I wouldn’t know where to draw the line.
GERALD: Fortunately, it isn’t left to you, is it?
INSPECTOR: No, it isn’t. But some things are left to me. Inquiries of this sort, for instance.
[Enter SHEILA, who looks as if she’s been crying.] Well, Miss Birling?
SHEILA [coming in, closing door]: You knew it was me all the time, didn’t you?
INSPECTOR: I had an idea it might be – from something the girl herself wrote.
SHEILA: I’ve told my father – he didn’t seem to think it amounted to much – but I felt rotten about it at the time and now I feel a lot worse. Did it make much difference to her?
INSPECTOR: Yes, I’m afraid it did. It was the last real steady job she had. When she lost it – for no reason that she could discover – she decided she might as well try another kind of life.
SHEILA [miserably]: So I’m really responsible?
INSPECTOR: No, not entirely. A good deal happened to her after that. But you’re partly to blame. Just as your father is.
ERIC: But what did Sheila do?
SHEILA [distress
ed]: I went to the manager at Milwards and I told him that if they didn’t get rid of that girl, I’d never go near the place again and I’d persuade mother to close our account with them.
INSPECTOR: And why did you do that?
SHEILA: Because I was in a furious temper.
INSPECTOR: And what had this girl done to make you lose your temper?
SHEILA: When I was looking at myself in the mirror I caught sight of her smiling at the assistant, and I was furious with her. I’d been in a bad temper anyhow.
INSPECTOR: And was it the girl’s fault?
SHEILA: No, not really. It was my own fault. [Suddenly, to GERALD] All right, Gerald, you needn’t look at me like that. At least, I’m trying to tell the truth. I expect you’ve done things you’re ashamed of too.
GERALD [surprised]: Well, I never said I hadn’t. I don’t see why –
INSPECTOR [cutting in]: Never mind about that. You can settle that between you afterwards. [To SHEILA] What happened?
SHEILA: I’d gone in to try something on. It was an idea of my own – mother had been against it, and so had the assistant – but I insisted. As soon as I tried it on, I knew they’d been right. It just didn’t suit me at all. I looked silly in the thing. Well, this girl had brought the dress up from the workroom, and when the assistant – Miss Francis – had asked her something about it, this girl, to show us what she meant, had held the dress up, as if she was wearing it. And it just suited her. She was the right type for it, just as I was the wrong type. She was a very pretty girl too – with big dark eyes – and that didn’t make it any better. Well, when I tried the thing on and looked at myself and knew that it was all wrong, I caught sight of this girl smiling at Miss Francis – as if to say: ‘Doesn’t she look awful’– and I was absolutely furious. I was very rude to both of them, and then I went to the manager and told him that this girl had been very impertinent – and – and – [She almost breaks down, but just controls herself.] How could I know what would happen afterwards? If she’d been some miserable plain little creature, I don’t suppose I’d have done it. But she was very pretty and looked as if she could take care of herself. I couldn’t be sorry for her.
INSPECTOR: In fact, in a kind of way, you might be said to have been jealous of her.
SHEILA: Yes, I suppose so.
INSPECTOR: And so you used the power you had, as a daughter of a good customer and also of a man well-known in the town, to punish the girl just because she made you feel like that?
SHEILA: Yes, but it didn’t seem to be anything very terrible at the time. Don’t you understand? And if I could help her now, I would –
INSPECTOR [harshly]: Yes, but you can’t. It’s too late. She’s dead.
ERIC: My God, it’s a bit thick, when you come to think of it –
SHEILA [stormily]: Oh shut up, Eric. I know, I know. It’s the only time I’ve ever done anything like that, and I’ll never, never do it again to anybody. I’ve noticed them giving me a sort of look sometimes at Milwards – I noticed it even this afternoon – and I suppose some of them remember. I feel now I can never go there again. Oh – why had this to happen?
INSPECTOR [sternly]: That’s what I asked myself tonight when I was looking at that dead girl. And then I said to myself: ‘Well, we’ll try to understand why it had to happen.’ And that’s why I’m here, and why I’m not going until I know all that happened. Eva Smith lost her job with Birling and Company because the strike failed and they were determined not to have another one. At last she found another job – under what name I don’t know – in a big shop, and had to leave there because you were annoyed with yourself and passed the annoyance on to her. Now she had to try something else. So first she changed her name to Daisy Renton –
GERALD [startled]: What?
INSPECTOR [steadily]: I said she changed her name to Daisy Renton.
GERALD [pulling himself together]: D’you mind if I give myself a drink, Sheila?
[SHEILA merely nods, still staring at him, and he goes across to the tantalus on the sideboard for a whisky.]
INSPECTOR: Where is your father, Miss Birling?
SHEILA: He went into the drawing-room, to tell my mother what was happening here. Eric, take the Inspector along to the drawing-room. [As ERIC moves, the INSPECTOR looks from SHEILA to GERALD, then goes out with ERIC.] Well, Gerald?
GERALD [trying to smile]: Well what, Sheila?
SHEILA: How did you come to know this girl – Eva Smith?
GERALD: I didn’t.
SHEILA: Daisy Renton then – it’s the same thing.
GERALD: Why should I have known her?
SHEILA: Oh don’t be stupid. We haven’t much time. You gave yourself away as soon as he mentioned her other name.
GERALD: All right. I knew her. Let’s leave it at that.
SHEILA: We can’t leave it at that.
GERALD [approaching her]: Now listen, darling –
SHEILA: No, that’s no use. You not only knew her but you knew her very well. Otherwise, you wouldn’t look so guilty about it. When did you first get to know her? [He does not reply.] Was it after she left Milwards? When she changed her name, as he said, and began to lead a different sort of life? Were you seeing her last spring and summer, during that time when you hardly came near me and said you were so busy? Were you? [He does not reply but looks at her.] Yes, of course you were.
GERALD: I’m sorry, Sheila. But it was all over and done with, last summer. I hadn’t set eyes on the girl for at least six months. I don’t come into this suicide business.
SHEILA: I thought I didn’t, half an hour ago.
GERALD: You don’t. Neither of us does. So – for God’s sake – don’t say anything to the Inspector.
SHEILA: About you and this girl?
GERALD: Yes. We can keep it from him.
SHEILA [laughs rather hysterically]: Why – you fool – he knows. Of course he knows. And I hate to think how much he knows that we don’t know yet. You’ll see. You’ll see. [She looks at him almost in triumph.]
[He looks crushed. The door slowly opens and the INSPECTOR appears, looking steadily and searchingly at them.]
INSPECTOR: Well?
END OF ACT ONE
Act Two
At rise, scene and situation are exactly as they were at end of Act One.
[The INSPECTOR remains at the door for a few moments looking at SHEILA and GERALD. Then he comes forward, leaving door open behind him.]
INSPECTOR [to GERALD]: Well?
SHEILA [with hysterical laugh, to GERALD]: You see? What did I tell you?
INSPECTOR: What did you tell him?
GERALD [with an effort]: Inspector, I think Miss Birling ought to be excused any more of this questioning. She’s nothing more to tell you. She’s had a long, exciting and tiring day – we were celebrating our engagement, you know – and now she’s obviously had about as much as she can stand. You heard her.
SHEILA: He means that I’m getting hysterical now.
INSPECTOR: And are you?
SHEILA: Probably.
INSPECTOR: Well, I don’t want to keep you here. I’ve no more questions to ask you.
SHEILA: No, but you haven’t finished asking questions – have you?
INSPECTOR: No.
SHEILA [to GERALD]: You see? [To INSPECTOR] Then I’m staying.
GERALD: Why should you? It’s bound to be unpleasant and disturbing.
INSPECTOR: And you think young women ought to be protected against unpleasant and disturbing things?
GERALD: If possible – yes.
INSPECTOR: Well, we know one young woman who wasn’t, don’t we?
GERALD: I suppose I asked for that.
SHEILA: Be careful you don’t ask for any more, Gerald.
GERALD: I only meant to say to you – Why stay when you’ll hate it?
SHEILA: It can’t be any worse for me than it has been. And it might be better.
GERALD [bitterly]: I see.
SHEILA: What do you see?
<
br /> GERALD: You’ve been through it – and now you want to see somebody else put through it.
SHEILA [bitterly]: So that’s what you think I’m really like. I’m glad I realized it in time, Gerald.
GERALD: No, no, I didn’t mean –
SHEILA [cutting in]: Yes, you did. And if you’d really loved me, you couldn’t have said that. You listened to that nice story about me. I got that girl sacked from Milwards. And now you’ve made up your mind I must obviously be a selfish, vindictive creature.
GERALD: I neither said that nor even suggested it.
SHEILA: Then why say I want to see somebody else put through it? That’s not what I meant at all.
GERALD: All right then, I’m sorry.
SHEILA: Yes, but you don’t believe me. And this is just the wrong time not to believe me.
INSPECTOR [massively taking charge]: Allow me, Miss Birling. [To GERALD] I can tell you why Miss Birling wants to stay on and why she says it might be better for her if she did. A girl died tonight. A pretty, lively sort of girl, who never did anybody no harm. But she died in misery and agony – hating life –
SHEILA [distressed]: Don’t please – I know, I know – and I can’t stop thinking about it –
INSPECTOR [ignoring this]: Now Miss Birling has just been made to understand what she did to this girl. She feels responsible. And if she leaves us now, and doesn’t hear any more, then she’ll feel she’s entirely to blame, she’ll be alone with her responsibility, the rest of tonight, all tomorrow, all the next night –
SHEILA [eagerly]: Yes, that’s it. And I know I’m to blame – and I’m desperately sorry – but I can’t believe – I won’t believe – it’s simply my fault that in the end she – she committed suicide. That would be too horrible –
INSPECTOR [sternly to them both]: You see, we have to share something. If there’s nothing else, we’ll have to share our guilt.
SHEILA [staring at him]: Yes. That’s true. You know. [She goes closer to him, wonderingly.] I don’t understand about you.
INSPECTOR [calmly]: There’s no reason why you should.
[He regards her calmly while she stares at him wonderingly and dubiously. Now MRS BIRLING enters, briskly and self-confidently, quite out of key with the little scene that has just passed. SHEILA feels this at once.]
An Inspector Calls and Other Plays Page 19
