by Tom Stoppard
Ridley (loses his temper) Don’t tell me I’m out of line, I know about this and you don’t know fuck, all you know is to talk Greek. Kerner is supposed to be the one with the brains and he doesn’t have enough to know he’s pimping fantasies for people with none. There’s nothing on that disc except physics and it will stay physics till little Hapgood is a merchant banker. There is no gadget here. It has no use. It’s the instructions for one go on a billion dollar train set, and that’s all it is. Strategic Defense, my arse.
(To Kerner) Listen, you tell them the first time I say something which isn’t true and I’ll stop. Livermore thinks it can make an X-ray laser to knock out a ballistic missile and Kerner’s bit of this is a new kind of percussion cap for the bullet: when the bullet is a laser you need a percussion cap like an H-bomb, one bomb per bullet, naturally it destroys the gun as well as the target but what the hell, all right, you trigger the bomb and the X-rays will lase for you, and if you can do it by putting matter together with anti-matter you get a nice clean bang, no fallout, and Kerner gets the Peace Prize. Leave aside that all the particle accelerators on earth produce no more anti-matter in a year than will make a bang like twenty pounds of dynamite. Leave aside that to make the system work up there in the sky you need about fifty million lines of information code and at NASA they can’t handle half a million without launch delays and the Russians probably wouldn’t wait. Leave everything aside and there’s still the problem that Kerner’s bullet can’t shoot inside the earth’s atmosphere. The gun in the sky is no good for anything except ICBMs coming up through the ceiling, and you’ve got five minutes because after that your target has turned into eighteen warheads hidden in a hundred decoys and a million bits of tinfoil – and that’s only until the Russians work out the fast-burn booster which will give you a fighting window of sixty seconds. I mean, this is the military application of Kerner’s physics if you’re looking ten years ahead, minimum. It’s a joke. I’d trade it for my cat if I had a cat.
(To Blair) And you’ll blanket this operation and play ransom games with the little bugger – for what? Do you think you won’t screw it up?
Blair (to Hapgood as though it’s just the two of them) There isn’t a choice. I’m running this and I’m not giving you a choice. You have to trust me.
Pause. Hapgood opens a drawer in her desk, takes out the electronic ‘key’, opens the safe, removes a disc-box, closes the safe, gives the box to Blair.
(Going, to Kerner) You’re with me.
Kerner Lilya …
Hapgood Do everything Paul says.
Kerner follows Blair out, leaving the door open. Hapgood sits quietly, looking at nothing. Ridley doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.
Ridley Sorry. (He gets up and moves towards the door.)
Hapgood Ridley, close the door.
Ridley closes the door.
I gave him the dummy.
Ridley What?
Hapgood I gave him the dummy disc from your briefcase.
Ridley Christ almighty.
Hapgood If you don’t like it you’d better say.
Ridley Like it or not we can’t do it, we’ll never be clear.
Hapgood We’re already in front. They made contact – Blair missed it.
Ridley How?
Hapgood (taking the card from the potted plant) Interflora. ‘Mum. – I’ll phone tomorrow, two o’clock.’ I thought – it’s not Mother’s Day.
Ridley Listen – tell Blair. It’s no good without him – he’ll have the watchers outside your flat before you get home, you’ll be babysat like the Queen of England, nothing will reach you, there’ll be a tap on your phone and on every line into this building.
Hapgood Except this one (the red one). It’s the one Joe will tell them, he knows the trip-code. I’ve always broken the rules.
Ridley And what then? You won’t be able to go to the bathroom, let alone a meet.
Hapgood I know all of that.
Ridley That’s if Blair isn’t sitting here when the call comes in, he’ll go where you go.
Hapgood I won’t be here. You’ll be here.
Ridley Jesus, I can’t answer it. It has to be you.
Hapgood It will be me.
Ridley You can’t be in two places at once.
Hapgood (suddenly out of patience) I’m not busking, Ridley, I know how to do this, so is it you and me or not?
Pause. Ridley nods.
I’ll need two or three hours. Have you got a radio?
Ridley Not with me.
Hapgood takes her radio out of her bag and gives it to him.
Hapgood I’ll reach you on it: don’t try to talk to me on anything else. Don’t go home, go to a hotel.
Ridley Mother, I know what to do. (He goes to leave.) Will you be all right?
Hapgood (nods) Stay close.
Ridley It’s all right, I’m with you.
But she spoils it for him.
Hapgood That thing’s got a two-mile range, stay close.
Ridley nods and goes, closing the door.
Hapgood waits. She opens a desk drawer and takes out another radio. She lays the radio on the desk and waits again. The radio must have a blink-light; perhaps we can see it. Hapgood picks it up.
(To radio) Is he clear?
Radio Green.
Hapgood (to radio) I’m here to be told.
She puts the radio back on the desk. She starts dialling on the red telephone. Maggs enters, wearing a topcoat.
Maggs Good night, Mrs Hapgood.
Hapgood Good night, Maggs. Thank you.
Maggs I won’t ask.
Hapgood That’s right, Maggs. By the way, I won’t be in tomorrow.
Maggs I’ll hold the fort. (He leaves closing the door.)
Hapgood (into phone, brightly) Hello! Who’s that? Sandilands! Can you tell Hapgood it’s his mother? Wait a minute, aren’t you the one who sells boots? … no, no, it’s all right – perfectly all right, in fact quite reasonable, I thought, you can’t get much for a pound nowadays … Two pounds? But surely …? Oh, a pound each – well, fair enough, yes, I can see that … Yes, darling, I’ll hold on for him –
In the middle of all that Blair has quietly entered the room and is collecting the contents of his dossier, sorting things out, putting them away.
(Mutters) Merchant banker …?
Blair You know, you’re going to get into such trouble one day … I mean, that’s the Downing Street one-to-one red line – what are they supposed to think when they pick it up and it’s busy?
Hapgood Oh God, so it is. (huffily) It’s a perfectly natural mistake, Joe uses it far more than they do.
Blair That’s my point. (grumbling) You use the security link with Ottawa to play chess, you arrive in Vienna after dog-legging through Amsterdam on a false passport and then proceed to send postcards home as if you’re on bloody holiday, you use an intelligence officer on government time to dispatch football boots around the country … For someone who’s so safe you’re incredibly, I don’t know, there’s a little anarchist inside you, I wish you wouldn’t …
Hapgood Don’t be cross, I’m tired.
(Into phone) Oh – thank you, Sandilands – I’ll hang on, Paul …
Blair Mm?
Hapgood I know this isn’t necessary and don’t start getting cross again, I –
Blair (somehow irritated, apparently) It’s all right, it’s done –
Hapgood You don’t know what I –
Blair Yes, yes, watchers at the school till this thing is over, and Cotton has joined the ground-staff, marking out the rugger pitches, do him good, he was looking a bit pasty.
Hapgood I absolutely refuse to live without you, do you understand that?
Blair Of course.
You know, it’s going to be tricky doing the swap without a boy to swap.
Hapgood Well, we’ll just have to do the best we can, won’t we?
Blair Of course.
Hapgood (into phone) Oh, hello, Joe! Are you all right, darling?
Kerner Magnificent.
Blair Thank you.
Kerner No, me. You were terrible. I never believed a word of it.
Hapgood (into phone) No, it was just to tell you not to phone tomorrow in case you were going to. I’m away.
Blair (to Kerner) Not even the photographs?
Hapgood (into phone) Oh, good.
Kerner The photographs I liked.
Blair Yes?
Hapgood (into phone) In the hutch? Well, I was nearly right.
Meanwhile Kerner has poured three tots of vodka into the cups.
Thank you, Joseph.
Kerner and Blair toast each other and knock back the vodka.
(Into phone) Well, you’re daft – do they fit?
Blair (to Kerner) Come on, then.
Blair puts his cup down and leaves the room. Kerner closes the door after him and remains in the room.
Hapgood (into phone) That’s all right … when is Saturday? The day after tomorrow … well, probably, I might. Home or away?
Kerner gently takes the phone from her and listens to the phone for a few moments and then gives it back to her, and leaves the room.
(Into phone) Yes, I’m here. Yes, all right. Well, let me know on Saturday morning.
Yes, Joe, I’m here to be told.
She puts the phone down.
SCENE TWO
Now we are in a new place. The first and obvious thing about it is that it is a photographer’s studio. The second thing is that it is also where somebody lives; the room is skimpily furnished as a living room. There is a front door and also another closeable door leading to the other rooms in what is evidently the photographer’s flat. There is a telephone.
It is mid-morning. The room is empty. The doorbell rings. Hapgood comes flying out from the other door. We haven’t seen her like this. She is as different from her other self as the flat is different from her office; the office being rather cleaner, tidier and better organized. Hapgood opens the front door, and it’s Ridley. Ridley has been shopping: glossy Bond Street carrier bags. He stares at her.
Ridley Mrs Newton?
Hapgood (casually) Oh, shit.
Ridley I’m Ernest.
Hapgood Well, you’re not what I want, so keep your clothes on.
Stupid bugger! Not you, darling, come in anyway. (She is already heading for the telephone.) What did they do? Pick you from the catalogue? I’ll try and sort it out – charge them for half a day if it looks like their fault – it won’t be the first time – (now into the phone) It’s Celia, I want Fred.
Would you mind not wandering around.
Her last remark needs explaining. Ridley has dropped his parcels and is now, frankly, casing the joint. He is not taking a lot of notice of her. He moves around coolly as if he owns the place, and in due course he leaves the room, disappearing through the ‘kitchen door’.
(Into phone) Hello, darling, you’re losing your grip – I said a Roman soldier, not an Italian waiter, and also he looks queer to me … Don’t tell me what I mean, you’re gay, he’s queer, he’s got a queer look about him, he won’t sell bamboo shoots to a fucking panda, never mind boxer shorts … Well, I’ll look at his body and let you know – Fred? – Have you gone? – No, the phone clicked – (She looks around and finds that the room is empty.) Hey –? What’s his name? (She calls out.) Victor!
Ridley wanders back into the room.
Ridley (casual) Hang up.
Hapgood What do you think you’re doing? (into phone) Is he a regular? Well, I don’t fancy him –
That’s as far as the phone call gets because Ridley, still maintaining a sort of thoughtful cruise, disconnects the call.
Now listen –
He looks at her. She goes from fear to relief.
You’re Betty’s friend. God, I am sorry, darling, I’m Celia, don’t be offended, being rude about the models is the house style, it saves a lot of nonsense about being paid for the reshoot. And anyway you do look like an Italian waiter. What does Betty want? – I don’t owe her any favours, she never does me any, I mean there must be lots of photographic work going in the spy racket. She says I won’t keep my mouth shut – can you believe it? Can you smell burning? – Oh, sod!
She leaves the room in a hurry. Ridley has been looking at her like somebody looking at a picture in a gallery. He reaches into his jacket and produces his radio.
Ridley (on radio) Mother.
Hapgood (on radio) Ridley.
Ridley You’re out of your fucking mind.
Hapgood (on radio) What’s the matter?
Ridley She may be your twin but there the resemblance ends. She’s a pot-head, it reeks, she’s growing the stuff in the window-box, she won’t stop talking, she picks her nose, she looks like shit, I mean it doesn’t begin …
Hapgood (on radio) Where is she?
Ridley In the kitchen burning things …
Hapgood (on radio) I’m signing off.
Ridley No, listen –
But evidently she has cut him off. He puts his radio away and goes to pick up his shopping. He puts it on the sofa, perhaps, and anyway starts unloading the carrier bags. They are full of clothes in tissue paper. There’s also a shoe box and other stuff. It all adds up to one outfit, suitable for the office.
While he is doing this Hapgood bangs her way back into the room (she probably wouldn’t have bothered to close the door so a door on a spring might be useful).
She is nibbling the unburned portion of a croissant, which rapidly gets as far as the wastepaper basket.
Hapgood And you made me warm my croissant to a frazzle. What have you got there?
Ridley Clothes, shoes, make-up … Is there a bathroom?
Hapgood No, we pee in the sink. Can you try to show a little charm?
Ridley Your sister said do what he tells you.
Hapgood So what?
Ridley Run a bath.
Hapgood Why?
Ridley You look as if you need one.
Hapgood Now just a minute –
Ridley And wash your hair.
Hapgood Just a minute. I’m not going to a party, I’ve got a busy morning.
Ridley Victor isn’t coming. It’s ten twenty and we’re leaving here at one fifteen, just under three hours. I’ll explain as you go.
Hapgood Will you indeed. (She picks up the phone again and starts dialling.)
Ridley Who are you calling?
Hapgood I want to talk to Betty.
Without hurrying much, because she is still dialling, Ridley yanks the phone cord which comes away from the wall bringing fragments of plastic and bits of skirting-board with it.
Ridley You don’t talk to Betty, you don’t talk to anybody, in fact you don’t talk so much in general, and you don’t swear at all, get used to it, please.
Hapgood You bloody gangster, that telephone is my livelihood!
Ridley Is that right? You’ll have to fall back on photography.
She swings at him. He catches her wrist. With his other hand he takes a wad of bank notes out of one pocket.
That’s two thousand pounds. (He lets go of her wrist and takes a similar wad out of another pocket.) So’s this. That’s now, this is later.
Hapgood What is it for?
Ridley It’s for looking nice and not talking dirty, and answering a telephone. After that, we’ll see.
Hapgood Why?
Ridley I’ll tell you when it’s time.
Hapgood Then why would I do it?
Ridley For the money, your sister said. I want to know about you and your sister, sibling bribery is a new one on me.
Hapgood Well, you can go and –
Ridley Every time you swear I’m taking £50 out of this bundle. You’ll get what’s left.
Hapgood – fuck yourself.
Ridley separates a £50 note from the bundle of money (which is perhaps secured by a rubberband), and puts the remainder back into his pocket.
> That’s theft.
Ridley No, it’s arson. (Because his hand has come out of his pocket with his cigarette lighter with which he sets fire to the note.)
Hapgood You’re all nutters. I knew it then. Is Betty in trouble?
Ridley When?
Hapgood If she’s in trouble, I don’t mind helping.
Ridley You knew it when?
Hapgood Whenever – all those years ago when we did the interviews.
Ridley Tell me about that.
Hapgood I failed the attitude test. Betty was exactly their cup of tea so they kept her anyway.
Ridley Anyway?
Hapgood They were seeing twins – it was a phase. Nutters is not the word.
Ridley laughs.
Ask Betty, they had a reason, she’ll know what it was. Well, that cheered you up.
Ridley Yes. Will you have a bath and talk nice and do what I tell you?
Hapgood Is it her money?
Ridley Not exactly.
Hapgood I wouldn’t take it if it was hers.
Ridley Fine. It’s ten twenty-five.
Hapgood What did you say your name was?
Ridley Ernest. Do you want me to scrub your back?
Hapgood No, thank you.
Ridley Take the clothes. They’re for you to put on.
She gathers them up to take them out.
Hapgood They’re not really me.
Ridley That’s right.
Hapgood leaves the room. Ridley stays where he is. The next time he moves, he’s somebody else.
INTER-SCENE
So we lose the last set without losing Ridley. When the set has gone, Ridley is in some other place … which may be a railway station, or alternatively a place where boats come in, or an airport; whatever the design will take, really. The main thing is that he is a man arriving somewhere. He carries a suitcase. He is a different Ridley.
It’s like a quantum jump.
And now we lose him. Perhaps he walks out. Perhaps the scene change has been continuous and he is now erased by its completion.
SCENE THREE
Blair and Kerner are at the zoo. Blair has the ‘pink diagram’.
Blair I must confess I always thought that one Ridley was enough and occasionally surplus to an ideal arrangement of the universe. Now we’ve got one in Kensington and one who could be anywhere. I imagine he doesn’t hang around, he’d come in and out as required. Could be on a British passport, more likely not. This is, of course, assuming that he exists. Does this (the diagram) prove twins?
