by Tom Stoppard
BONE: Nothing. D-four.
(He has scored, it’s on her face. Horror.
The doorbell rings.)
PENELOPE: Ding-ding-ding!
Alarm stations, alarm stations! We’ve been hit – We’re blowing up – Don’t jump! – don’t jump – the sea’s on fire.
(She throws herself back on the bed, hiding her face.
The doorbell rings again.
She lifts her face, smiling.)
That was close! Don’t let him in till I’m ready.
3. INT. HALL. DAY
BONE opens the front door, ALBERT is there, carrying an expensive bunch of flowers.
ALBERT: Good morning.
BONE: Good morning. Miss Pinkerton isn’t here today.
ALBERT: I’ve come to see Mrs Bone.
BONE: Yes, I know. I was just saying Miss Pinkerton isn’t here today, that’s all. I thought you might have been wondering why she didn’t open the door today.
ALBERT: Yes, I was wondering.
BONE: Well, she isn’t here today.
ALBERT: Ah.
BONE: Well, this way! She won’t keep you a moment.
4. INT. BONE’S STUDY. DAY
BONE: I’m Mrs Bone’s husband.
ALBERT: Mr Bone.
BONE: Yes … Yes, I’m something of a logician myself.
ALBERT: Really? Sawing ladies in half – that kind of thing?
BONE: Logician. Well, sit down, sit down! My wife speaks very highly of you.
ALBERT: And I’m very fond of her.
ALBERT and BONE: (Together) How is she?
BONE: Well, you’re the doctor – how am I supposed to know how she is? She doesn’t tell me anything. The first day she stayed in bed I thought she’d had a bad night, and the next day I thought – lazy old thing! – and – well, it’s just gone on and on and there’s no end to it. All she’ll say is, she’s all right in bed.
ALBERT: Yes, well, there’s something in that.
BONE: You think so? I understand you’re a good friend of hers.
ALBERT: Thank you. Is this where you do your work?
BONE: What? – Oh … yes. Yes, this is where I’m getting it all down. It’s an immense undertaking of course –
(ALBERT is regarding the unkempt bed, turning over the blanket with his stick.)
Yes – I bunk down in here – the midnight oil, you know – I’ve been bunking down in here since – well, it’s my life’s work of course.
ALBERT: Your life’s work!
BONE: Yes. How long would you say I’ve got?
ALBERT: Are you inviting tenders?
BONE: No – just a professional estimate.
ALBERT: Well, I’d say as long as you’ve had.
BONE: (Appalled) Is that all? But I’m not half-way yet – not nearly.
ALBERT: What do you write?
BONE: It’s sort of history.
ALBERT: What of?
BONE: The world.
ALBERT: The history of the world! How far have you got?
BONE: I’m doing the Greeks at the moment, third century.
ALBERT: Broken the back of them.
BONE: BC. But I’ve done the Etruscans.
ALBERT: Found plenty of new stuff, have you?
BONE: Well no, I mean practically nothing is known about the Etruscans. You see, I’m not exactly a historian – the actual history has all been written up by other people – but I’m discovering the patterns – exposing the fallacy of chance – there are no impulsive acts – nothing random – everything is logical and connects into the grand design.
ALBERT: Is there one?
BONE: There’s got to be something going on beside a lot of accidents. If it’s all random, then what’s the point?
ALBERT: What’s the point if it’s all logical?
BONE: I hadn’t meant to do a history of the world, only of myself … but the thing keep spreading, making connections back, wider and deeper all the time, the real causes, and suddenly I knew that everything I did was the culminating act of a sequence going back to Babylon …
PENELOPE: (Off-camera) Dah-ling …
ALBERT: Ah! (Moves.) Mind you, this lunanaut – he’d make a good end to your book.
BONE: The lunanaut?
ALBERT: The logical place to stop, I would have thought. The day man bridged the cosmic gap. That was the day she took to her bed, you know.
(BONE reacts.)
PENELOPE: (Off-camera) Dah-ling!
ALBERT: Well, if you’ll excuse me –
BONE: (Blocking his way) What exactly do you do in there?
ALBERT: Well, I … examine her.
BONE: She won’t let me examine her! You must have a good time, examining people.
ALBERT: Well, it’s different for us medical men, you know. You think that when I’m examining Penelope –
BONE: Penelope?
ALBERT: Her name is Penelope, isn’t it?
BONE: Yes.
ALBERT: She told me it was. You think that when I’m examining Penelope I see her eyes as cornflowers, her lips as rubies, her skin so soft and warm as milk … you think that when I run my hands over her back I am carried away by the delicate contours that flow like a sea shore from shoulder to heel – Oh, I know, dear fellow! – you think my mind turns to ripe pears as soon as I press those firm pink –
BONE: No, I don’t!
ALBERT: But it’s misconception. To us medical men the human body is an imperfect machine constructed from cells, tissues, organs …
PENELOPE: (Off-camera) Help! Fire, murder!
ALBERT: Funny thing, I knew a fellow called Bone once – I wonder if he was a relation? Yes, he wanted to be an osteopath but he couldn’t face the pleasantries –
5. INT. HALL. DAY
ALBERT: – which every patient would have felt obliged to make, so he took his wife’s maiden name of Foot and now practises in Frinton as a chiropodist. My name is Pearce. Albert Pearce.
PENELOPE: (Off-camera) Rape! Rape! Rape!
ALBERT: I believe she’s ready for me.
(The doorbell rings.
ALBERT enters the bedroom, closing the door.
BONE answers the front doo. CROUCH is standing there.)
BONE: Yes?
CROUCH: Crouch, sir. Hall porter downstairs.
BONE: Is the lift out of order?
CROUCH: No sir, it’s another matter I’ve come about.
BONE: You look as if you could do with a sit-down.
CROUCH: You’re right sir, thank you sir – it’s a long haul.
BONE: Come this way. Did you want to see me?
CROUCH: Well, I’m seeing everybody, sir, making enquiries. You know what happened out there?
BONE: The parade?
6. INT. BONE’S STUDY. DAY
CROUCH: The incident. There’s been a bit of an incident. (He sags into a chair.) Woman, middle-aged to elderly, five foot one, grey hair in a bun, blue dress, starched apron, fell in the street. Dead.
BONE: Oh … yes?
CROUCH: I’ve seen her coming in and out, but I’ve drawn a blank at the other flats. No one missing of that description here, sir?
BONE: Pinkerton …
CROUCH: Ah.
BONE: Oh dear … A small old-looking grey-haired lady in a white apron?
CROUCH: (Takes off his peaked cap) Relative, sir?
BONE: My wife’s nanny.
CROUCH: I’ve got to make a bit of a report, you see.
BONE: Yes … I’d better go and break the news … she’ll be most upset.
CROUCH: Right, sir. I’ll wait here.
(BONE goes out.)
7. INT. HALL. DAY
BONE crosses hall, goes into bedroom.
8. INT. PENELOPE’S ROOM. DAY
PENELOPE is sitting up in bed. ALBERT is kneeling on the bed, kissing her chastely. He releases her and kneels back. They take no notice of BONE.
PENELOPE: Do that last bit again.
(He kisses her.)
Pray-kiss?
ALBERT: No.
PENELOPE: Start again, from the beginning.
Tip-toe?
Slow?
ALBERT: (A clue) Ssssh!
PENELOPE: Quiet? Soft?
(ALBERT nods.)
Soft?
(ALBERT grabs her.)
Grab?
ALBERT: As if you were running away.
PENELOPE: Catch!
ALBERT: Y!
PENELOPE: Catchy?
(He prays.)
Priest? Pray? Monk?
(He nods.)
Monk!
(ALBERT kisses her.)
BONE: Softly softly catchee monkey.
ALBERT: Correct!
PENELOPE: Shut up! He spoilt it! What do you want?
BONE: Pinkerton’s dead.
ALBERT: Dead!
BONE: There’s a man come to make a report.
PENELOPE: What does he want to know?
BONE: I don’t know.
PENELOPE: Well, it’s a fat lot of good asking me, then, isn’t it?
BONE: Monk-key. In the singular. Softly softly catchee monkey. Not monkiss.
ALBERT: Mr Bone, this is intolerable! I will not be interrupted in this frivolous manner while I’m bringing aid and comfort to a patient!
(BONE retreats, closing the door.)
9. INT. BONE’S STUDY. DAY
In the study CROUCH is looking at one of Bone’s notebooks.
CROUCH: The Etruscans soon fizzled out, didn’t they? I mean, there wasn’t much to them. I never thought much of Eye-talians, mind you …
BONE: (Briskly) Mr Crouch, how exactly can we help you regarding this matter of Pinkerton’s death? She was an old lady, rather frail. She fell down, fractured something perhaps – and died. It’s very sad, but she had a splendid life in the best houses – what else can one say?
CROUCH: I thought you might know how it happened.
BONE: I thought she fell in the street?
CROUCH: From the window. We were all watching the parade and suddenly, behind us – thump … Amazing to think where he’s been, the lunatic …
(But BONE is already marching back to the bedroom.)
10. INT. HALL. DAY
BONE crosses hall to bedroom.
11. INT. PENELOPE’S ROOM. DAY
BONE storms in and stops dead.
No one is in sight. The drapes are drawn round the bed. Albert’s shoes, sticky hat and cape are lying neatly outside, on chair.
PENELOPE: (Inside) Who is it?
BONE: Me. How is she?
(PENELOPE’s head and bare shoulder appears.)
PENELOPE: What?
BONE: I was asking how you were.
PENELOPE: What do you want?
BONE: He says Pinkerton fell from the window.
PENELOPE: Who does?
BONE: He says –
PENELOPE: I wish you’d shut up about Pinkerton! Go away!
(She ducks back inside.)
BONE: Well, it must have been your window – it’s the only one overlooking … You can’t hide!
PENELOPE: Hee hee hee, can’t see me!
BONE: Who gave Pinkerton the push?
ALBERT: (Within) Say ninety-nine.
PENELOPE: Ninety-nine, doctor.
ALBERT: Feel any pain … there?
PENELOPE: No … no …
ALBERT: There?
PENELOPE: That’s closer … down a bit … Yes, yes … Oh yes, that’s it … yes, yes … yes … oh yes …
(BONE retires.)
12. INT. HALL. DAY
BONE crosses.
13. INT. BONE’S STUDY. DAY
BONE: My wife’s in bed with the doctor at the moment, Mr …
CROUCH: Crouch, sir. I see you’re a historical man. I’ve got a historical turn of mind myself. Have you read The Last of the Wine?
BONE: Mr Crouch, let us not draw any hasty conclusions, let us be logical. Firstly, you say Miss Pinkerton fell from the window. Secondly, there is only one window overlooking the parade. Therefore – thirdly, my wife has lost the use of her legs, so – fourthly – Why didn’t you take the lift, as a matter of interest?
CROUCH: Ah, well, I was calling at every floor, you see, and it was always a case of just one more – but you’re right, sir, it does build up on you.
BONE: You could have taken the lift to the top and worked your way down.
CROUCH: By God, that’s a brainwave you’ve got there.
BONE: Thank you. As you can see, I’m a cerebral man. I-fifthly, Miss Pinkerton was in service with my wife’s family for thirty-four years and well loved – a second mother almost, certainly third or fourth – fifthly – sixthly – it’s unthinkable.
CROUCH: Yes, it’s a truly wonderful era, sir, for brains – they get you right to the top – take the loony – he’s put us out of date –
BONE: Therefore –
CROUCH: Ah!
(ALBERT has appeared, perfectly dressed once mare.)
ALBERT: Is this the fellow?
CROUCH: Good morning, sir.
ALBERT: Splendid. You examined the body?
(He takes out a pad of certificates and starts scribbling.)
CROUCH: I did have a look.
ALBERT: Well done. Eyes dilated?
CROUCH: Could well have been.
ALBERT: Excellent. Heart stoppage?
CROUCH: Not a flutter.
ALBERT: Adds up. Any signs of vertigo?
CROUCH: Well, she fell a long way.
ALBERT: Quite agree.
(He tears off certificate, hands it to CROUCH.)
Put yourself in my hands. No point in casting a shadow over a day of triumph.
CROUCH: Oh yes, sir – we better hurry if we want to see him.
14. INT. HALL. DAY
They move towards front door.
BONE: Just a minute –
ALBERT: Ah – yes, I think she’s out of danger now. The main thing is – keep her amused. Humour her – plenty of fruit drinks – that kind of thing –
BONE: You think I’m a fool, don’t you?
ALBERT: Mr Bone, medicine has many forms not given to the layman to understand – but we medical men have given up our youth to learn its mysteries and you must put your trust in us.
BONE: There’s nothing wrong with her. When’s she going to get up?
ALBERT: Get up? My dear fellow, Penelope can’t get up. She’s unable to leave her bed. I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do. She’ll never walk again.
(Briskly to CROUCH:) Come along, let’s get this matter tidied up.
(They leave.
BONE walks to bedroom door.)
15. INT. PENELOPE’S ROOM. DAY
Sound of parade, cheering.
PENELOPE is standing by the window, watching the parade. She does not look round.
PENELOPE: There he goes … standing so straight and handsome in his yellow uniform … There goes God in his golden capsule. You’d think that he was sane, to look at him, but he doesn’t smile because he has seen the whole thing for what it is – not the be-all and end-all any more, but just another moon called Earth – part of the works and no rights to say what really goes – he’s made it all random.
BONE: She was your nanny.
PENELOPE: Poor Pinkers. You think I’m just a bad loser – but no one is safe now.
BONE: You can’t hush it up, you know. And what about me? There’s the law – accessory after the fact. You can’t flout the laws – and nor can Albert.
PENELOPE: (Fondly) Huh – him and his ripe pears …
BONE: And don’t think I don’t know what’s going on!
PENELOPE: Nobody knows except me, and him; so far. Albert almost knows. You’ll never know. There he goes … (She smiles. Waves her hand slightly at the lunanaut below.)
Hello …
(The parade fades into the distance.)
NEUTRAL GROUND
MAIN CHARACTERS
PHILO
a native of Eastern Europe; aged around fifty,
but looking older and more ravaged, especially in the later Montebiancan scenes
ACHERSON
a young, clean-cut Englishman, as they say; about thirty, well educated
CAROL
about the same age; a competent, good-looking type
OTIS
American, ten years older, and ten years harder; conservative in appearance
LAUREL and HARDY
killers but fairly relaxed about it: they don’t go around with grim poker-faces all the time
SANDERS
an up-and-coming Acherson
BOY
about ten years old, bright; simply dressed
And
COMISKY ‘LOCALS’ an American salesman
four travellers,
including a pretty girl
TRAIN POLICE
FRONTIER GUARDS
ASSASSIN
WAITER
NURSE
VET (WOLENSK)
MAID
MRS BUCHNER a beautiful and rich lady the boy’s father
BORIS
VILLAGERS
BOYFRIEND for nurse
BRIDE AND GROOM
BOUNCERS in discotheque
DESK CLERK in hotel
MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN in hotel
FOSTER a diplomat
BARBER
PORTER
Montebianca is assumed to be a small country on the borders of Yugoslavia, consisting of a capital (also called Montebianca) and some outlying villages.
The village is very small, a few houses around a church and a bar.
Neutral Ground was first transmitted in December 1968 by Thames Television. The cast included:
PHILO Patrick Magee
ACHERSON Nicholas Pennell
CAROL Polly Adams
OTIS Alan Webb
PRODUCER Margaret Morris
DIRECTOR Piers Haggard
1. EXT. OPEN COUNTRY. DAY. WINTER
An establishing shot of a passenger train.
