Damsels in Distress

by Alan Ayckbourn

  Rosie I – liked him.

  Maurice Liked him?

  Rosie Yes, you know – I wanted – wanted – wanted to get to know him.

  Maurice So why didn’t you get to know him as Rosie Seymore? Ask him next door to the pub? They serve an excellent pint.

  Rosie I don’t know. I thought he’d be more impressed if he thought I owned this flat. It was only going to be a one-night thing. He’d probably have found out in the morning.

  Maurice And where is this man now?

  Rosie He – just walked out.

  Maurice Why did he do that?

  Rosie (unhappily) I’ve no idea.

  Maurice Why on earth should he walk out? It sounds to me as if he was on to a sure thing, wasn’t he?

  Rosie Oh, for God’s sake. Just leave me alone. That’s all there was to it. Either arrest me or go away. If you don’t believe me, check with him.

  Maurice We’ll need to. Where does he live? Do you know? Did he tell you?

  Rosie Yes. Next door. He lives in the flat opposite.

  Silence.

  Maurice Does he now?

  Rosie Yes. You can check. He may be out at present, but that’s where he lives.

  Pause.

  He does.

  Pause. She looks at Maurice.

  He doesn’t?

  Pause.

  Oh, God. (She starts to cry again.) I’m sorry. I’ve had this most terrible day …

  Maurice (sympathetically) Oh dear, poor old thing. This chap sounds to me what my dear late mother would call a bit of a cad.

  Rosie He was a lousy, deceitful, lying bastard.

  Maurice That’s another way of putting it, I suppose. (proffering a neatly folded handkerchief) May I?

  Rosie (taking it from him) Thank you. (She blows her nose, then offers it back to him.)

  Maurice Now, Rosie – (refusing the handkerchief) – no, no, do hold on to it, you may be needing it again in a moment – now, Rosie. We’re in a bit of a quandary here, you and I. This innocent if somewhat illegal romantic escapade of yours has rather upset the Cox’s Pippins, you see –

  Rosie What?

  Maurice You’ve rather buggered things up, old thing.

  Rosie How do you mean? I’ll clean things up. Miss Rupelford need never know. There’s no harm done, surely?

  Maurice I’m afraid there’s been an awful lot of harm done, Rosie.

  Rosie Who’s going to tell her?

  Maurice Nobody’s going to tell her, certainly.

  Rosie Well, then.

  Maurice No one’s going to tell her because there’s no such person as Joanna Rupelford.

  Pause.

  Rosie There isn’t?

  Maurice Not until you laid claim to the title. Dear Joanna was simply a somewhat painstakingly concocted fictional character. True, we had intended to – bring her to life – but only at the point she was needed.

  Rosie Needed for what?

  Maurice Unfortunately you appear to have stepped into her shoes. How do they put it in your line of business? The understudy’s gone on instead of the principal. If we’re not careful, we’ll have people demanding their money back.

  Rosie But who is the principal, then?

  A slight pause.

  Tracy Me.

  Rosie Ah.

  Maurice Yes. So you can understand why Tracy’s a bit miffed, can’t you? She’s been rehearsing this for weeks. It was to be her big chance. Her starring role. To add insult to injury you’ve even tried on most of her costumes.

  Rosie Were those your tights?

  Tracy (hostile) Yes.

  Rosie Well, I didn’t know, did I?

  Maurice No excuse in law that, you know.

  Rosie Well, she can still do it. She can carry on with it, can’t she? She can still be Joanna Rupelford?

  Maurice Hardly.

  Rosie Why not?

  Maurice Rosie, the play is halfway through. You can’t suddenly switch leading ladies. The punters will get suspicious. Who the hell’s this, they’ll cry? Who’s this Tracy girl who’s suddenly entered down centre in the middle of things? Bring back Rosie! We want Rosie! No, Rosie, I fear you’re in too deep. I think the only solution to this, like it or not, is that you’re going to have to carry on till the curtain.

  Tracy You’ve got to be joking!

  Rosie He certainly has.

  Maurice There’s an awful lot of time and effort gone into this, you know.

  Rosie Too bad. (suddenly getting up) Look, I’m going home. I’ve had enough of this.

  Tracy (also on her feet, sharply) Sit down, you!

  Rosie Get out of my way!

  Tracy Sit down, or I’ll break every finger you’ve got.

  Rosie stares at her.

  Maurice (softly) I think she’s probably exaggerating a weeny bit, Rosie, but I wouldn’t put her to the test.

  Rosie sits. Tracy now sits next to her.

  Rosie (looking at them both, a little more frightened now) You’re not the police at all, are you?

  Maurice Never said we were, old thing. Now. Can we rely on you, Rosie? Come on, we really could do with a spot of help here, you know.

  Rosie Why should I help you?

  Maurice (hopefully) Patriotism?

  Rosie (dryly) Ha-ha!

  Maurice (shrugging) Well, worth a try, wasn’t it? How about immunity from prosecution, then? From breaking and entering? Wanton damage to property? We could probably put a pretty good case together between us, couldn’t we, Tracy? Get you six to nine months in a nasty women’s prison full of big rough girls. You wouldn’t like that, surely, Rosie?

  Rosie You’re not going to frighten me. I’m reporting this to the authorities.

  Maurice I should. They’ll be very pleased to see you. Save them hunting for you, won’t it?

  Rosie I’ll report it to someone. I’ll report it to Equity.

  Maurice My God! We hadn’t reckoned with that, had we, Tracy? Well, I suppose, as a last resort, we could always try Tracy’s way. Not an ideal solution. A leading lady with both her hands in plaster, but we could give it a whirl if you like. What do you think, Tracy?

  For the first time Tracy looks at Rosie and smiles. It is somewhat unnerving.

  Want to have a rethink, Rosie?

  Rosie No.

  Maurice You’re not going to help us?

  Rosie No bloody way.

  Maurice (studying her) I must say, I rather admire you. You’ve got a lot of guts.

  Tracy Be all over the bloody carpet in a minute –

  Maurice (sharply) That’ll do, Tracy.

  Rosie I’m standing up now and I’m going home to my aunt and uncle’s flat, alright? If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to use force.

  Nobody moves. Their bluff is called. Rosie stands up.

  Maurice Rosie, would you mind just – just giving me one more moment? I need to make a quick phone call? Would you do that? Please? Please.

  Rosie You’d better be quick.

  Maurice I promise. Tracy, behave yourself. Lay a finger on Rosie, I’ll take my belt off to you. (smiling at Rosie) Just our little private joke. Don’t mind us. (Maurice takes out his mobile and wanders towards the bedroom. Into the phone) Hello. I think we need to call up the infantry. Yes. Right away, please. Yes. OK … Uh-huh … Yes …

  Maurice wanders off, still listening. Rosie and Tracy sit in silence for a moment.

  Rosie (at last) What exactly have you got against me?

  Tracy (regarding Rosie with loathing) Do you know how long I trained for this job? Six months. I did advanced assault courses, weapons training, unarmed combat and endurance tests; I underwent round-the-clock interrogation, sleep-deprivation and psychological torture. I got dunked in cold water and sat in a freezing bloody cell with a black bag on my head for three days with no food, listening to nothing but a high-pitched whistling noise. Then somebody came along and kicked the shit out of me just for the hell of it. I underwent all that in return for a promotion and fifty lousy
quid a month increase and then along comes a pissing little amateur like you and takes it all away from me. How should I feel exactly?

  Rosie (with growing passion) OK. I also trained for two years in drama school. To become a professional actor. I did movement, voice training, fencing, stage fighting and basic mime. I spent most of my time there crying in the loo, having been humiliated by so-called visiting directors who couldn’t get a job in the proper theatre so decided to take it out on us kids and by a load of bored tutors who couldn’t give a monkey’s fuck. All in all, I was laughed at, humiliated and made to feel a complete and utter uncoordinated prat. I was told I was unattractive, too short, that my ass was too big – and by one teacher that I had the acting talent of a gnat. Never mind, despite that, I hung on in. I stuck it out, finished the course and entered the glorious world of professional theatre where I have been for two years. Twenty-two months of that I have been out of work, occasionally auditioning and being told by casting directors that I wasn’t quite what they were looking for, darling. The other two months I spent wearing a bloody nylon-fur skin and a rabbit’s head that would make your black bag seem like paradise. I slept in a transit van with six others, including a stage manager with an unbearable foot problem, and all for twenty quid less than the recommended Equity minimum and no subsistence. And all because I knew inside me that one day my break would come. And it did come and I was on the verge of real stardom and it all suddenly seemed worthwhile and then along comes this lanky, talentless, six-foot, toothsome redhead straight from drama school and just snatches it all away from me. So, how do you think that feels, eh?

  A silence.

  Tracy (impressed, despite herself) Jesus.

  Rosie May I go home now, please?

  Tracy (with a glance towards the bedroom) Go on, then.

  Rosie Thank you.

  Rosie gets up and walks to the front door a little unsteadily. Tracy, still seated, watches her go without moving. As Rosie reaches the door, it opens and Sam is standing there. Rosie gapes at him.

  Sam (somewhat sheepishly) Hi.

  Rosie You came back?

  Sam I couldn’t keep away.

  Rosie Why? Why did you walk out, Sam?

  Sam I’m sorry. Forgive me? (He holds out his arms.)

  Rosie (embracing him and clinging tightly, muffled) Just take me home. Take me home, please. These bloody people, they’re trying to …

  Sam (rocking her gently) OK. OK. I’m here now.

  Tracy watches them, impassively. Maurice returns from the bedroom, putting away his mobile phone.

  Rosie (still clinging to Sam) Get me out of here, please, Sam. (She is suddenly aware that Sam is not moving. She pulls away slightly.)

  Maurice Just sit down again for a minute, will you, Miss Seymore?

  Rosie looks from Sam to Maurice to Tracy then back to Sam. Alarm bells are starting to ring in her head.

  Rosie Sam?

  Sam Do as he says, Rosie.

  Rosie (as the truth dawns, softly) Oh, my God. What a day!

  She continues to stand as the lights fade to:

  Blackout.

  Act Two

  SCENE ONE

  The same. A few minutes later. Rosie is sitting dejectedly. Maurice, Sam and Tracy stand watching her. Silence.

  Sam (at length) Rosie?

  Rosie Why should I ever do anything for you?

  Sam If you could only try and –

  Rosie (rising) Forget it. I’m changing back into my own clothes and then I’m going to phone for a taxi. (to Tracy, as she goes) You want to come and watch me change, you’re welcome.

  Rosie goes off to the bedroom. A silence. None of them moves.

  Maurice Tracy, give us a moment, will you, please?

  Tracy starts to move towards the bedroom.

  No, not in there. Leave her alone. The woman’s had quite enough for one night. Go and wait in the hall there.

  Tracy (as she goes, turning) Do you want me to –

  Maurice (sharply) I said wait in the hall!

  Tracy goes, sulkily. Maurice, although he is trying to contain himself, is clearly very angry.

  Well, you’ve certainly cocked this up, haven’t you, boy? This is all down to you, you realise that?

  Sam shrugs, sulkily.

  Never could keep the bloody thing in your trousers, could you?

  Sam (muttering) This wasn’t like that at all.

  Maurice What was it, then. True love?

  Sam I – I like her.

  Maurice Delighted to hear it. Sooner you marry her the better, then. Because you’ll have all the time in the world for your honeymoon, I’ll tell you that much. You’re out of this department as of now.

  Sam stands miserably.

  When I first recruited you, I had big hopes for you, son. You were quick, you were intelligent, you had everything going for you. You could have gone right to the top, Sam. Nothing could have stopped you. Nothing. Except your own total lack of personal self-control. What the hell did you think you were playing at? Eh?

  Sam All I did was –

  Maurice All you did was wreck eighteen months’ work and nearly a million quid’s worth of operation. That’s all you’ve done, boy. All because you couldn’t control yourself. Had to be the bloody magician producing things out of his trousers. What the hell were you doing in here in the first place?

  Sam I heard her in here, I thought I’d …

  Maurice Check her out. That’s what the gear is for, Sam. That’s why we have cameras in the lavatory and mics in the spin dryer. So we don’t need to come near the place until we need to. It’s called surveillance, Sam. You sit on your ass next door and you listen and you watch. And you regularly report in. You do not swan in here at the first sign of available totty and start cooking her bloody tagliatelle.

  Sam Gnocchi.

  Maurice What?

  Sam Nothing.

  Maurice paces about, quite agitated.

  Maurice I don’t know what we’re going to do, Sam, I really don’t. Have I now got to go back and tell them the whole thing’s blown? That’s going to look wonderful, isn’t it? I retire in two years, do you realise that? Nothing like going out in a blaze of glory, is there? Well, there goes the bloody Christmas bonus for a kick-off.

  Silence.

  Sam It might still be running.

  Maurice Running? How can it possibly be running? That woman’s not going to keep coming back, is she? She’s called once, phoned twice. They may be villains but they’re not idiots, Sam. I think she may have gathered by now that everything here is not as it should be.

  Sam We still have one card.

  Maurice What?

  Sam Rosie.

  Maurice I think you’ll find she’s what we call a busted flush, Sam. You may have gathered from your brief reunion that she is not in the mood to co-operate. Neither I at my most charming nor Tracy at her least alluring could budge her an inch.

  Sam I could try, if you like.

  Maurice What do you propose to do? Cook her an omelette?

  Sam I could try talking to her. She might listen.

  Maurice If I were her, I’d punch you in the eye.

  Sam I could try.

  Maurice (sighing) Nothing to lose, have we? Apart from our jobs, our pensions, our reputations, our friends – possibly our lives – nothing momentous.

  Pause.

  You’ve got five minutes. Then I’m pulling everyone out. We’ve got three teams out there, you know. Living on a diet of fast food and peeing into plastic bags. God knows what the overtime bill is. I shudder to think. Five minutes. Understood?

  Sam Right.

  Maurice I must say, I don’t fancy your chances. She’s a feisty little thing.

  Maurice goes out of the front door. Sam sits thoughtfully. In a moment, Rosie comes from the bedroom. She has on her original clothes. She sees Sam but chooses to ignore him. She stops at the desk and rummages through her bag for her mobile phone.

  Sam (softly) Rosie …
<
br />   Rosie ignores him. She trawls through her stored numbers.

  Could I just say one thing …?

  Rosie keys in the number.

  Please. (Sam rises and moves to her.) Rosie!

  Rosie (very cool) Would you keep away from me, please. (into phone) Hello … Yes, could I have a taxi immediately? … Yes, it’s St Mark’s Wharf, 177 Wapping High Street. Yes. Flat 3C. Seymore. Yes. Well, as soon as you can, please. (She rings off, and moves towards the front door.)

  Sam Rosie …

  Rosie We have nothing to say, do we?

  Sam Just till the cab comes. Sit down a second.

  Rosie lingers but does not sit.

  First, I’d like to say – I know how you feel. Yes, there was deception. I didn’t – I didn’t tell you the whole truth about myself. Why I was here – what was going on. But I think you have to admit, there was deception on both sides. Wasn’t there? I mean, you deceived me, too.

  Rosie What are you talking about?

  Sam You tried to pass yourself off as Joanna Rupelford. Make me believe this was your flat, didn’t you?

  Rosie But you knew I was lying. From the very start, you knew it wasn’t true, didn’t you? You knew who owned this flat. That there wasn’t really a Joanna Rupelford. You knew all along.

  Sam Yes, but – does that make it less of a lie? Just because the person you’re telling the lie to knows it’s a lie. It’s still a lie. The intention’s the same.

  Rosie Are you saying this is my fault?

  Sam No, of course not. I’m trying to say to you, that despite the fact that we both lied to each other – I think we both lied for the same reason. To try and – create time for each other. To know each other a little. To get closer. And I don’t want to lose that. I really don’t. What I feel for you is very important to me. That’s all. I don’t want to lose you. I’m asking you to try and forgive me, Rosie. And to give us a chance to have more time together. That’s all.