by David Lodge
RALPH
It will be harder to meet, but we’ll find ways.
HELEN
Oh, Messenger, I feel afraid.
RALPH
Don’t. (He embraces her.) It’s probably indigestion.
HELEN (half laughing, half crying)
What is?
RALPH
What happened just now. (He jerks his head towards the bedroom.) I grabbed a horrible sandwich in the Institute canteen and gobbled it on the way over here.
HELEN
You’re always complaining of indigestion.
RALPH
It’s nothing. I’ve got some Rennies. (He slaps his pockets, and pulls out a small pack of tablets, takes one and sucks it.)
HELEN
You should see a doctor.
RALPH
Now you’re sounding more like a wife than a lover.
HELEN (gives him a playful slap)
Go to your meeting.
RALPH (kisses her)
I’m gone.
He goes out, followed by HELEN, seeing him to the front door.
Music.
Scene Seven
RALPH’s office. RALPH comes in and sits down at his desk. He is pensive. He puts his hand on the desk telephone but doesn’t dial for a moment. Then he dials. The phone on HELEN’s desk rings. HELEN comes quickly into the room and picks up the phone.
HELEN
Hello.
RALPH
It’s Messenger.
HELEN
Oh. I’ve been wondering why you hadn’t called.
RALPH
Sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind.
HELEN
Did Carrie and the children get back all right?
RALPH
Yes, they’re fine. But I’m not.
HELEN
What d’you mean?
RALPH
I went to my GP, as you suggested, about the indigestion. I’ve got a lump on my liver.
HELEN
What kind of lump?
RALPH
He doesn’t know. But he couldn’t rule out cancer.
HELEN
Oh God!
RALPH
I’ve got an appointment with a specialist in York on Monday.
HELEN
You poor thing … Will I see you before then?
RALPH
Probably not. We’ll go to the cottage at the weekend, but Carrie’s a bit upset, I think she’d prefer if it was just the family.
HELEN
Of course. I didn’t like to phone you earlier, in case –
RALPH
Yes, better not. I’ll call you when I can.
HELEN
I love you, Messenger.
She puts down the receiver before he can reply. RALPH is slightly surprised.
RALPH
Helen?
He puts down the receiver, then gathers up some papers, puts them in a briefcase and goes out of his office.
HELEN paces up and down restlessly, then sits down at her laptop and begins to type. She stops and speaks as before.
HELEN
Why did I say that? I’ve never said that to him before, not even in the throes of sex, because I was afraid of what it might commit me to. So was it because he might be mortally ill? When I realised I might lose him, I realised I really love him? Or was it the mention of Carrie, the rival woman, which prompted me to say so? In any case, I don’t have an equal claim. She is the wife, and the mother. I don’t intend to break up their family, even if Messenger wanted to leave her, which I doubt. So what happens when I go back home at the end of the semester? I become a long-distance mistress, snatching a few hours of passion when he has business in London? We make assignations in foreign cities? I see myself sitting in a hotel room with a bottle of champagne in a bucket of melting ice, waiting for him to extricate himself from some conference, and I don’t like the picture. (She resumes typing.)
Scene Eight
A private hospital room, and HELEN’s flat. RALPH, wearing a hospital theatre robe, dials on his mobile. HELEN is typing on her laptop. Her phone rings and she picks it up.
HELEN
Hello.
RALPH
It’s me.
HELEN
Where are you?
RALPH
In hospital, in York. They’ve kept me in for tests.
HELEN
What did the specialist say?
RALPH
He confirmed I’ve got a lump on my liver. Doesn’t know what it is yet. I’ve got to have an ultrasound scan and an endoscopy and a colonoscopy.
HELEN
God! What does that entail?
RALPH
Well, a colonoscopy is when they stick a little camera up your rectum and have a look round. It’s the medical equivalent of a Channel Five documentary.
HELEN
Poor you.
RALPH
I’m not looking forward to it. You have to go on a diet of tasteless pap for three days beforehand.
HELEN
So you’ve got to stay in for three days?
RALPH
Yes. Which I can ill afford, with the conference coming up soon.
HELEN
Can I visit you?
RALPH
I think not. (HELEN is cast down.) I hate people seeing me in this kind of state.
HELEN
Is Carrie visiting?
RALPH
Well, yes, naturally … I couldn’t stop her.
HELEN
No.
RALPH
She’s been fantastic, actually. Combing the Internet and calling up everybody she knows to find out the best liver man in the country.
HELEN
I wish I could do something …
RALPH
There isn’t anything.
HELEN
I can’t even promise to say a prayer for you, because you would just laugh at me.
RALPH
Well, there’s nobody there, is there? But thanks for the thought. (A knock on his door, off.) I think it’s time for my first test. I’ll call you when I have all the results. Bye.
HELEN
Good luck.
RALPH ends the call. Lights down on RALPH. HELEN makes some keystrokes on her laptop and prints out a page. She reads it aloud.
‘She couldn’t suppress the feeling that they had brought calamity upon themselves. By giving in to lust, by betraying Carrie – never mind that Carrie had been betraying Messenger in her turn. In her heart, her Catholic heart, she felt that they had sinned, and deserved to be punished. The moment Messenger said, “I’ve got a lump on my liver,” she felt a cold qualm of fear, and yet no surprise – it was as if she had been subconsciously expecting some such blow, and now it had fallen. His lump was probably there before they even met, but telling herself that made no difference. The sin had brought it out, nourished it, made it grow faster. That’s what her superstitious self said. She couldn’t stop her ears against the silly, hysterical voice, however much she tried. She was in the worst possible plight – to still believe in sin, but no longer in the possibility of absolution.’
She puts down the sheet and resumes typing.
Scene Nine
The hospital room. RALPH, wearing a hospital robe, is speaking into his recorder.
RALPH
Two tests down and one to go. I can’t complain about the accommodation – private of course. Carrie will spare no expense … It’s as good as a four-star hotel room, except that you can’t hang a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the doorknob. Nurses are popping in and out all the time to check your pulse or your temperature or your blood pressure or just to ask you if everything is all right … They’re remarkably good-looking nurses, mind you. Nurse Pomeroy is particularly fetching. She’s seen me on television and regards me as something of a celebrity … In another mood I might fancy my chances with Nurse Pomeroy … But the fact is that my libido is on hold at the moment. Ever since O’Keefe utter
ed those seven little words, ‘You’ve got a lump on your liver,’ I’ve lost interest in sex … In having it, that is. I doubt if you ever stop thinking about it … I think about sex, therefore I am … If the lump turns out to be malignant I may never have sex again. A depressing thought … But at least I can say I went down with guns blazing, with Helen. Except for the very last time. Pity about that … I’ve tried to feel the lump myself, but without success … It doesn’t hurt … which isn’t necessarily a good sign. Cancer of the liver is often painless in the early stages … But it’s strange to be possibly in mortal danger, and not to feel anything except a little indigestion … I read somewhere that the ancient Assyrians thought the liver was the seat of the soul. The Egyptians thought it was the heart and the ancient Greeks the lungs … and Descartes thought his soul was in his pineal gland … but the Assyrians plumped for the liver, though they can’t have had a clue what it was for, physiologically. Interesting …
Knock on door.
VOICE OF NURSE (off)
Professor Messenger?
RALPH
Coming.
He goes out.
Scene Ten
HELEN’s flat. She stands with arms folded, as if looking abstractedly out of the window. A light on the telephone is blinking. HELEN turns and notices the light. She goes quickly to press a button on the phone. She listens to a text message transmitted in artificial, staccato tones by a male voice, not RALPH’s.
VOICE MESSAGE
You have – one – voice message – voice message received today at – 3.15 p.m. – Helen — test results inconclusive – the specialist wants a – liver biopsy – but Carrie has lost faith in him – she has fixed an appointment – tomorrow with a man in — Harley Street – we are on our way to – London – I’ll call you when I can – Messenger – end of message.
HELEN listens to this in some distress. She starts to dial a number, but changes her mind and puts the telephone down again.
Music.
Scene Eleven
The campus. Morning. RALPH, carrying briefcase, and HELEN, carrying an armful of folders, enter from opposite sides, see each other and stop.
RALPH
Hello.
HELEN comes slowly up to him.
HELEN
I want to drop this stuff and throw my arms around you.
RALPH
Don’t. These buildings have a thousand eyes.
HELEN
I know. When did you get back from London?
RALPH
Last night.
HELEN
And?
RALPH
The news is encouraging. Halib – the Harley Street man – thinks it might be a hydatid cyst. I may have been carrying it about ever since I was a young man.
HELEN
Is it serious?
RALPH
Not life-threatening. It can be surgically removed.
HELEN
But that’s wonderful!
RALPH
It is if he’s right. I didn’t want to call you until I knew for sure.
HELEN
When will that be?
RALPH
Not long. I had a blood test which will tell us.
HELEN
Shouldn’t the man in York have thought of that?
RALPH
Yes, he should. Carrie was dead right about him. (He looks at his watch.) I’ve got a meeting, I’m afraid.
HELEN
When will I see you? Alone, I mean.
RALPH
I don’t know. Maybe tomorrow afternoon, about five, I could drop by your flat.
HELEN
I’ve got tutorials tomorrow afternoon, I may be a little late. I’ll leave a key in the usual place.
RALPH
OK. (His mobile rings.) Excuse me. (He answers mobile.) Messenger … Yes, Mr Halib. Have you any news? … It’s positive? Wonderful! Wonderful! … I can’t thank you enough … Right … I’ll ring your secretary … Right … Thanks again. Goodbye, Mr Halib. (He turns to HELEN.) The test was positive. It is a hydatid cyst.
HELEN
Thank God!
RALPH
No, thank Halib.
HELEN
I’m so relieved!
RALPH
So am I. Now I can get on with my life again.
HELEN
I want to kiss you.
RALPH
Better not. Look, I must go, there’s a meeting about the conference … I’ll see you tomorrow, about five.
HELEN
Right.
They separate and set off in their different directions. RALPH stops, takes his mobile out and keys in a memorised number. HELEN stops, turns and observes him a little wistfully, without his being aware, before going off.
RALPH
Carrie? I’ve just had a call from Halib. The test was positive … No, that’s good news! (laughs) It’s a cyst … Yes … Yes, but they shrink it with drugs before they operate … He’s put a prescription in the post … I’m to see him again next week …
Fade to black, as he goes off, speaking into his phone.
Yes, he’s a genius … Thank God you found him … It’s a wonderful feeling … Yes … Yes …
Music.
Scene Twelve
HELEN’s flat and RALPH’s office. Day. HELEN sits before her laptop, types, stops and speaks, as before.
HELEN
Messenger is coming this afternoon. It will be our first time together since the spectre of cancer reared its ugly head. Now it’s been removed, will he want to make love, to celebrate his reprieve? I’ve been reprieved too, of course, from superstitious fear. But not from an uneasy conscience. Henry James has a fine sentence about illicit love somewhere, in The Golden Bowl I think, about how one person’s bliss and right can be another person’s bale and wrong, like two sides of the same coin. Something like that. I can’t deny that our affair was blissful for a while, but the longer it goes on the more likely it is to do harm. Now is the time to end it. I’ll tell him this afternoon that we must stop seeing each other, except socially for appearance’s sake. Yes, this is the time to do it. My mind is made up. (Beat.) Why then, Helen Reed, did you put on your prettiest underwear this morning? Good question.
She switches off her laptop, closes it, and goes out.
RALPH speaks into his recorder, standing at the window of his office.
RALPH
May the fifth. I’m well, back in control of my life … Preparations for the conference are going smoothly … All’s well at home … Carrie and I made love last night for the first time in weeks. This crisis has brought us closer together. At times like this you learn the value of marriage … Which leaves only the question of what to do about Helen. I’m standing at the window now, just as I did on that rainy Sunday morning – when was it? – February, and saw her coming round the corner of Biology, and went out to look for her … A lot has happened since then … The way she said ‘I Iove you’ on the phone the other day was a bit alarming, she never said that before, I hope she isn’t getting serious … I must be careful when I see her this afternoon … she may be planning to make up for lost time … I could say, ‘I don’t feel I’m out of the wood yet, healthwise, let’s leave our thing on hold until I’m really well again.’ Then soon I’ll be fully occupied with the conference, and not long after that the semester will end and she’ll be going back to London and the affair can die a natural death. Perhaps one last fuck for old times’ sake if she’s up for it … But not today. Not today.
He switches off the recorder with a certain emphasis, as if concluding the audio journal, puts it in his desk drawer, locks the drawer, then goes out.
Scene Thirteen
HELEN’s flat. It is unoccupied. The doorbell chimes. After an interval, the sound of the front door opening and shutting, and RALPH comes into the room, a latchkey in his hand. He looks around the room, and puts the key down on the table, next to the closed laptop. His gaze lingers on the laptop, and
he runs his fingers over the lid. He sits down on the armchair, but continues to gaze thoughtfully at the laptop. He checks the time on his wristwatch, gazes again at the laptop. Suddenly he gets to his feet, goes across to the desk, sits down and opens the laptop. Hastily, furtively, he boots up the computer and uses the mouse to access a file. He looks up, and pricks his ears for any sound of HELEN returning. He checks his watch again, and begins to scroll through the file, smiling occasionally. Then suddenly he reads something that shocks him. He stares incredulously at the screen.
RALPH
Carrie?
The sound of the front door opening and shutting. RALPH gives a start, hastily turns off the computer and closes it.
HELEN (off)
Messenger – are you here?
RALPH gets up and moves away from the desk just as HELEN comes into the room.
HELEN (smiles)
Oh, there you are. (He is unable to disguise his perturbation.) What’s the matter?
RALPH
