An Inspector Calls and Other Plays

by J. B. Priestley

  MRS BIRLING [smiling, social]: Good evening, Inspector.

  INSPECTOR: Good evening, madam.

  MRS BIRLING [same easy tone]: I’m Mrs Birling, y’know. My husband has just explained why you’re here, and while we’ll be glad to tell you anything you want to know, I don’t think we can help you much.

  SHEILA: No, Mother – please!

  MRS BIRLING [affecting great surprise]: What’s the matter, Sheila?

  SHEILA [hesitantly]: I know it sounds silly –

  MRS BIRLING: What does?

  SHEILA: You see, I feel you’re beginning all wrong. And I’m afraid you’ll say something or do something that you’ll be sorry for afterwards.

  MRS BIRLING: I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sheila.

  SHEILA: We all started like that – so confident, so pleased with ourselves until he began asking us questions.

  [MRS BIRLING looks from SHEILA to the INSPECTOR.]

  MRS BIRLING: You seem to have made a great impression on this child, Inspector.

  INSPECTOR [coolly]: We often do on the young ones. They’re more impressionable.

  [He and MRS BIRLING look at each other for a moment. Then MRS BIRLING turns to SHEILA again.]

  MRS BIRLING: You’re looking tired, dear. I think you ought to go to bed – and forget about this absurd business. You’ll feel better in the morning.

  SHEILA: Mother, I couldn’t possibly go. Nothing could be worse for me. We’ve settled all that. I’m staying here until I know why that girl killed herself.

  MRS BIRLING: Nothing but morbid curiosity.

  SHEILA: No it isn’t.

  MRS BIRLING: Please don’t contradict me like that. And in any case I don’t suppose for a moment that we can understand why the girl committed suicide. Girls of that class –

  SHEILA [urgently, cutting in]: Mother, don’t – please don’t. For your own sake, as well as ours, you mustn’t –

  MRS BIRLING [annoyed]: Mustn’t – what? Really, Sheila!

  SHEILA [slowly, carefully now]: You mustn’t try to build up a kind of wall between us and that girl. If you do, then the Inspector will just break it down. And it’ll be all the worse when he does.

  MRS BIRLING: I don’t understand you. [To INSPECTOR] Do you?

  INSPECTOR: Yes. And she’s right.

  MRS BIRLING [haughtily]: I beg your pardon!

  INSPECTOR [very plainly]: I said Yes – I do understand her. And she’s right.

  MRS BIRLING: That – I consider – is a trifle impertinent, Inspector. [SHEILA gives short hysterical laugh.] Now, what is it, Sheila?

  SHEILA: I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because impertinent is such a silly word.

  MRS BIRLING: In any case …

  SHEILA: But, Mother, do stop before it’s too late.

  MRS BIRLING: If you mean that the Inspector will take offence –

  INSPECTOR [cutting in, calmly]: No, no. I never take offence.

  MRS BIRLING: I’m glad to hear it. Though I must add that it seems to me that we have more reason for taking offence.

  INSPECTOR: Let’s leave offence out of it, shall we?

  GERALD: I think we’d better.

  SHEILA: So do I.

  MRS BIRLING [rebuking them]: I’m talking to the Inspector now, if you don’t mind. [To INSPECTOR, rather grandly] I realize that you may have to conduct some sort of inquiry, but I must say that so far you seem to be conducting it in a rather peculiar and offensive manner. You know of course that my husband was Lord Mayor only two years ago and that he’s still a magistrate –

  GERALD [cutting in, rather impatiently]: Mrs Birling, the Inspector knows all that. And I don’t think it’s a very good idea to remind him –

  SHEILA [cutting in]: It’s crazy. Stop it, please, Mother.

  INSPECTOR [imperturbable]: Yes. Now what about Mr Birling?

  MRS BIRLING: He’s coming back in a moment. He’s just talking to my son, Eric, who seems to be in an excitable silly mood.

  INSPECTOR: What’s the matter with him?

  MRS BIRLING: Eric? Oh – I’m afraid he may have had rather too much to drink tonight. We were having a little celebration here –

  INSPECTOR [cutting in]: Isn’t he used to drinking?

  MRS BIRLING: No, of course not. He’s only a boy.

  INSPECTOR: No, he’s a young man. And some young men drink far too much.

  SHEILA: And Eric’s one of them.

  MRS BIRLING [very sharply]: Sheila!

  SHEILA [urgently]: I don’t want to get poor Eric into trouble. He’s probably in enough trouble already. But we really must stop these silly pretences. This isn’t the time to pretend that Eric isn’t used to drink. He’s been steadily drinking too much for the last two years.

  MRS BIRLING [staggered]: It isn’t true. You know him, Gerald – and you’re a man – you must know it isn’t true.

  INSPECTOR [as GERALD hesitates]: Well, Mr Croft?

  GERALD [apologetically, to MRS BIRLING]: I’m afraid it is, y’know. Actually I’ve never seen much of him outside this house – but – well, I have gathered that he does drink pretty hard.

  MRS BIRLING [bitterly]: And this is the time you choose to tell me.

  SHEILA: Yes, of course it is. That’s what I meant when I talked about building up a wall that’s sure to be knocked flat. It makes it all the harder to bear.

  MRS BIRLING: But it’s you – and not the Inspector here – who’s doing it –

  SHEILA: Yes, but don’t you see? He hasn’t started on you yet.

  MRS BIRLING [after pause, recovering herself]: If necessary I shall be glad to answer any questions the Inspector wishes to ask me. Though naturally I don’t know anything about this girl.

  INSPECTOR [gravely]: We’ll see, Mrs Birling.

  [Enter BIRLING, who closes door behind him.]

  BIRLING [rather hot, bothered]: I’ve been trying to persuade Eric to go to bed, but he won’t. Now he says you told him to stay up. Did you?

  INSPECTOR: Yes, I did.

  BIRLING: Why?

  INSPECTOR: Because I shall want to talk to him, Mr Birling.

  BIRLING: I can’t see why you should, but if you must, then I suggest you do it now. Have him in and get it over, then let the lad go.

  INSPECTOR: No, I can’t do that yet. I’m sorry, but he’ll have to wait.

  BIRLING: Now look here, Inspector –

  INSPECTOR [cutting in, with authority]: He must wait his turn.

  SHEILA [to MRS BIRLING]: You see?

  MRS BIRLING: No, I don’t. And please be quiet, Sheila.

  BIRLING [angrily]: Inspector, I’ve told you before, I don’t like your tone nor the way you’re handling this inquiry. And I don’t propose to give you much more rope.

  INSPECTOR: You needn’t give me any rope.

  SHEILA [rather wildly, with laugh]: No, he’s giving us rope – so that we’ll hang ourselves.

  BIRLING [to MRS BIRLING]: What’s the matter with that child?

  MRS BIRLING: Over-excited. And she refused to go. [With sudden anger, to INSPECTOR] Well, come along – what is it you want to know?

  INSPECTOR [coolly]: At the end of January, last year, this girl Eva Smith had to leave Milwards, because Miss Birling compelled them to discharge her, and then she stopped being Eva Smith, looking for a job, and became Daisy Renton, with other ideas. [Sharply turning on him] Mr Croft, when did you first get to know her?

  [An exclamation of surprise from BIRLING and MRS BIRLING.]

  GERALD: Where did you get the idea that I did know her?

  SHEILA: It’s no use, Gerald. You’re wasting time.

  INSPECTOR: As soon as I mentioned the name Daisy Renton, it was obvious you’d known her. You gave yourself away at once.

  SHEILA [bitterly]: Of course he did.

  INSPECTOR: And anyhow I knew already. When and where did you first meet her?

  GERALD: All right, if you must have it. I met her first, some time in March last year, in the stalls bar at the Palace. I mean the
Palace music hall here in Brumley –

  SHEILA: Well, we didn’t think you meant Buckingham Palace.

  GERALD [to SHEILA]: Thanks. You’re going to be a great help, I can see. You’ve said your piece, and you’re obviously going to hate this, so why on earth don’t you leave us to it?

  SHEILA: Nothing would induce me. I want to understand exactly what happens when a man says he’s so busy at the works that he can hardly ever find time to come and see the girl he’s supposed to be in love with. I wouldn’t miss it for worlds –

  INSPECTOR [with authority]: Yes, Mr Croft – in the stalls bar at the Palace Variety Theatre …

  GERALD: I happened to look in, one night, after a rather long dull day, and as the show wasn’t very bright, I went down into the bar for a drink. It’s a favourite haunt of women of the town –

  MRS BIRLING: Women of the town?

  BIRLING: Yes, yes. But I see no point in mentioning the subject – especially – [indicating SHEILA.]

  MRS BIRLING: It would be much better if Sheila didn’t listen to this story at all.

  SHEILA: But you’re forgetting I’m supposed to be engaged to the hero of it. Go on, Gerald. You went down into the bar, which is a favourite haunt of women of the town.

  GERALD: I’m glad I amuse you –

  INSPECTOR [sharply]: Come along, Mr Croft. What happened?

  GERALD: I didn’t propose to stay long down there. I hate those hard-eyed dough-faced women. But then I noticed a girl who looked quite different. She was very pretty – soft brown hair and big dark eyes – [breaks off.] My God!

  INSPECTOR: What’s the matter?

  GERALD [distressed]: Sorry – I – well, I’ve suddenly realized – taken it in properly – that she’s dead –

  INSPECTOR [harshly]: Yes, she’s dead.

  SHEILA: And probably between us we killed her.

  MRS BIRLING [sharply]: Sheila, don’t talk nonsense.

  SHEILA: You wait, Mother.

  INSPECTOR [to GERALD]: Go on.

  GERALD: She looked young and fresh and charming and altogether out of place down there. And obviously she wasn’t enjoying herself. Old Joe Meggarty, half-drunk and goggle-eyed, had wedged her into a corner with that obscene fat carcase of his –

  MRS BIRLING [cutting in]: There’s no need to be disgusting. And surely you don’t mean Alderman Meggarty?

  GERALD: Of course I do. He’s a notorious womanizer as well as being one of the worst sots and rogues in Brumley –

  INSPECTOR: Quite right.

  MRS BIRLING [staggered]: Well, really! Alderman Meggarty! I must say, we are learning something tonight.

  SHEILA [coolly]: Of course we are. But everybody knows about that horrible old Meggarty. A girl I know had to see him at the Town Hall one afternoon and she only escaped with a torn blouse –

  BIRLING [sharply, shocked]: Sheila!

  INSPECTOR [to GERALD]: Go on, please.

  GERALD: The girl saw me looking at her and then gave me a glance that was nothing less than a cry for help. So I went across and told Joe Meggarty some nonsense – that the manager had a message for him or something like that – got him out of the way – and then told the girl that if she didn’t want any more of that sort of thing, she’d better let me take her out of there. She agreed at once.

  INSPECTOR: Where did you go?

  GERALD: We went along to the County Hotel, which I knew would be quiet at that time of night, and we had a drink or two and talked.

  INSPECTOR: Did she drink much at that time?

  GERALD: No. She only had a port and lemonade – or some such concoction. All she wanted was to talk – a little friendliness – and I gathered that Joe Meggarty’s advances had left her rather shaken – as well they might –

  INSPECTOR: She talked about herself?

  GERALD: Yes. I asked her questions about herself. She told me her name was Daisy Renton, that she’d lost both parents, that she came originally from somewhere outside Brumley. She also told me she’d had a job in one of the works here and had had to leave after a strike. She said something about the shop too, but wouldn’t say which it was, and she was deliberately vague about what happened. I couldn’t get any exact details from her about her past life. She wanted to talk about herself – just because she felt I was interested and friendly – but at the same time she wanted to be Daisy Renton – and not Eva Smith. In fact, I heard that name for the first time tonight. What she did let slip – though she didn’t mean to – was that she was desperately hard up and at that moment was actually hungry. I made the people at the County find some food for her.

  INSPECTOR: And then you decided to keep her – as your mistress?

  MRS BIRLING: What?

  SHEILA: Of course, Mother. It was obvious from the start. Go on, Gerald. Don’t mind Mother.

  GERALD [steadily]: I discovered, not that night but two nights later, when we met again – not accidentally this time of course – that in fact she hadn’t a penny and was going to be turned out of the miserable back room she had. It happened that a friend of mine, Charlie Brunswick, had gone off to Canada for six months and had let me have the key of a nice little set of rooms he had – in Morgan Terrace – and had asked me to keep an eye on them for him and use them if I wanted to. So I insisted on Daisy moving into those rooms and I made her take some money to keep her going there. [Carefully, to the INSPECTOR] I want you to understand that I didn’t install her there so that I could make love to her. I made her go to Morgan Terrace because I was sorry for her, and didn’t like the idea of her going back to the Palace bar. I didn’t ask for anything in return.

  INSPECTOR: I see.

  SHEILA: Yes, but why are you saying that to him? You ought to be saying it to me.

  GERALD: I suppose I ought really. I’m sorry, Sheila. Somehow I –

  SHEILA [cutting in, as he hesitates]: I know. Somehow he makes you.

  INSPECTOR: But she became your mistress?

  GERALD: Yes. I suppose it was inevitable. She was young and pretty and warm-hearted – and intensely grateful. I became at once the most important person in her life – you understand?

  INSPECTOR: Yes. She was a woman. She was lonely. Were you in love with her?

  SHEILA: Just what I was going to ask!

  BIRLING [angrily]: I really must protest –

  INSPECTOR [turning on him sharply]: Why should you do any protesting? It was you who turned the girl out in the first place.

  BIRLING [rather taken aback]: Well, I only did what any employer might have done. And what I was going to say was that I protest against the way in which my daughter, a young unmarried girl, is being dragged into this –

  INSPECTOR [sharply]: Your daughter isn’t living on the moon. She’s here in Brumley too.

  SHEILA: Yes, and it was I who had the girl turned out of her job at Milwards. And I’m supposed to be engaged to Gerald. And I’m not a child, don’t forget. I’ve a right to know. Were you in love with her, Gerald?

  GERALD [hesitantly]: It’s hard to say. I didn’t feel about her as she felt about me.

  SHEILA [with sharp sarcasm]: Of course not. You were the wonderful Fairy Prince. You must have adored it, Gerald.

  GERALD: All right – I did for a time. Nearly any man would have done.

  SHEILA: That’s probably about the best thing you’ve said tonight. At least it’s honest. Did you go and see her every night?

  GERALD: No. I wasn’t telling you a complete lie when I said I’d been very busy at the works all that time. We were very busy. But of course I did see a good deal of her.

  MRS BIRLING: I don’t think we want any further details of this disgusting affair –

  SHEILA [cutting in]: I do. And, anyhow, we haven’t had any details yet.

  GERALD: And you’re not going to have any. [To MRS BIRLING] You know, it wasn’t disgusting.

  MRS BIRLING: It’s disgusting to me.

  SHEILA: Yes, but after all, you didn’t come into this, did you, Mother?

  GERAL
D: Is there anything else you want to know – that you ought to know?

  INSPECTOR: Yes. When did this affair end?

  GERALD: I can tell you exactly. In the first week of September. I had to go away for several weeks then – on business – and by that time Daisy knew it was coming to an end. So I broke it off definitely before I went.

  INSPECTOR: How did she take it?

  GERALD: Better than I’d hoped. She was – very gallant – about it.

  SHEILA [with irony]: That was nice for you.

  GERALD: No, it wasn’t. [He waits a moment, then in low, troubled tone] She told me she’d been happier than she’d ever been before – but that she knew it couldn’t last – hadn’t expected it to last. She didn’t blame me at all. I wish to God she had now. Perhaps I’d feel better about it.

  INSPECTOR: She had to move out of those rooms?

  GERALD: Yes, we’d agreed about that. She’d saved a little money during the summer – she’d lived very economically on what I’d allowed her – and didn’t want to take any more from me, but I insisted on a parting gift of enough money – though it wasn’t so very much – to see her through to the end of the year.

  INSPECTOR: Did she tell you what she proposed to do after you’d left her?

  GERALD: No. She refused to talk about that. I got the idea once or twice from what she said, that she thought of leaving Brumley. Whether she did or not – I don’t know. Did she?

  INSPECTOR: Yes. She went away for about two months. To some seaside place.

  GERALD: By herself?

  INSPECTOR: Yes. I think she went away – to be alone, to be quiet, to remember all that had happened between you.

  GERALD: How do you know that?

  INSPECTOR: She kept a rough sort of diary. And she said there that she had to go away and be quiet and remember ‘just to make it last longer’. She felt there’d never be anything as good again for her – so she had to make it last longer.

  GERALD [gravely]: I see. Well, I never saw her again, and that’s all I can tell you.

  INSPECTOR: It’s all I want to know from you.

  GERALD: In that case – as I’m rather more – upset – by this business than I probably appear to be – and – well, I’d like to be alone for a little while – I’d be glad if you’d let me go.

  INSPECTOR: Go where? Home?