EVANS (forcing him into a chair). You stay where you are. If you try to get away, again, I’ll twist your neck!
NANCY (off). What are you doing? Smashing the furniture, or what?
JACK. Come down and see. We’ve got a prize-packet for you.
NANCY (off). Prize-packet? What is it?
EVANS (to JACK). GO up and tell her.
(JACK goes off, and immediately afterwards NANCY’S voice is heard speaking rapidly and excitedly. FRED rises and, with an air of unconcern, inspects a print on the wall. EVANS watches him grimly. JACK returns.)
JACK. She’ll be down in a minute. Titivating herself — (scornfully) — for him! Changing her frock.
FEED. She needn’t trouble.
EVANS (loudly). You shut your mouth.
FEED. Perhaps I ought to smarten up a bit. (He goes to a small glass over the mantelpiece and, producing a small comb from his pocket, does his hair, straightens his tie, etc. He turns to EVANS.) Got a clothes-brush? EVANS. GO to blazes!
FEED. I don’t know where it is, but I’d sooner be there than here. How long is she going to be? I can’t wait here all day, you know. I’ve only got a fortnight’s holiday. I’m losing fresh air and sunburn.
EVANS (desperately). If she doesn’t hurry up, I shall kill him afore she comes down.
JACK. If you don’t, I will!
FEED (blandly). Why not toss up for it?
(JACK and his father start up, but at that moment NANCY comes in.)
NANCY (looking around). Where is he?
EVANS. Eh? Why, there! Are you blind, or what?
NANCY (shrilly). That? That’s not my Bert.
FEED (deferentially). That’s what I told them. Over and over again.
EVANS (loudly, to NANCY). What! Look again.
NANCY. If I looked all night it wouldn’t make any difference. The idea of making such a mistake! I think I know who’s blind.
FEED (magnanimously). We’re all liable to make mistakes; even the best of us.
JACK. YOU take a good look at him; and don’t forget that it’s four years since you saw him. Isn’t that Bert’s nose?
NANCY (looking at FEED). Not a bit like it; not a bit. Bert had a beautiful nose. As straight as — as —
FEED. AS mine!
JACK. Look at his eyes — aren’t they Bert’s eyes?
(NANCY looks at FRED and, meeting his gaze, tosses her head scornfully and tries, but in vain, to stare him down.)
EVANS. Well?
NANCY (turning away). Not a bit like. And if you don’t like Bert, you needn’t insult him. (She sits down with her back to FEED.)
EVANS (discomfited). Well, I could ha’ sworn it was Bert Simmons. He’s the living spit of him.
JACK. Me, too; I’d ha’ sworn to him anywhere. It’s the most extraordinary likeness I’ve ever seen. (He catches his father’s eye, and, with a jerk of his head towards FEED, awaits instructions.)
EVANS (with an attempt at dignity). He can go. He can go this time, and I hope that it’ll be a lesson to him not to go about looking like other people. If he does, next time, p’r’aps, he won’t escape so easy.
FEED (blandly). You’re quite right; I’ll get a new face first thing to-morrow morning. I ought to have done it before. (He turns to NANCY.) Good-bye — I’m sorry I have disappointed you.
NANCY (heatedly). Disappointed me?
FEED. Yes, you came down all smiles to see Bert Simmons. Would you like to know my opinion of him?
NANCY. I don’t want to know your opinion. It’s no use to me.
FRED (pausing at the door and speaking very slowly). My opinion of Bert Simmons is that he is a silly fool. A man that will stay away from you for four years ought to be sent to an idiot asylum. Four days would be enough for most men. Two for me!
(He goes out, shutting the door very slowly and carefully.)
EVANS. Most extraordinary likeness; more like Bert Simmons than Bert is like himself.
JACK. Said he’d got a fortnight’s holiday. Wonder whether we shall see him again.
EVANS. Not if I can help it. I don’t hold with people going about looking like people what they ain’t. Deceitful, I call it.
JACK. Seems to have took a fancy to Nan.
EVANS. There you are again; just like Bert Simmons. The only two that ever looked at her.
NANCY (with a derisive laugh). Fat lot you know! EVANS. Well, that’s all I ever heard of.
NANCY (tossing her head). There’s a lot you don’t hear of. Wouldn’t be good for you.
EVANS (grimly). That’ll do, my gal! That’s enough.
(NANCY shrugs her shoulders and goes and sits by the window. She turns suddenly with an exclamation.)
NANCY. He — he’s coming back! (She rises.)
(Father and son look at each other, and then stand looking at the door. There is a gentle tap; then a louder one. The door is opened very slowly and the head of FEED appears.)
EVANS (gruffly). Yes! What have you come back for?
(FEED slips into the room softly, closes the door behind him and removes his hat.)
FRED (slowly, and avoiding NANCY’S eye). I have come back because I feel ashamed of myself.
EVANS. Ashamed of yourself.
FRED (gazing nervously in the direction of NANCY). I — I haven’t been behaving well; I’ve been deceiving you; I am Bert Simmons. At least, that is the name I told you four years ago.
EVANS (in a roar). I knew I hadn’t made a mistake. I knew him well enough. Shut the door, Jack. Don’t let him go.
FRED. I don’t want to go. I have come back to make amends.
JACK. Fancy Nancy not knowing him!
FRED. She was afraid of getting me into trouble, and I just gave her a wink not to recognize me. She knew me well enough, bless her!
NANCY (hotly). How dare you? Why, I’ve never seen you before in my life! How dare you tell such lies?
FRED (brazenly). All right, Nan; but it’s no good keeping it up now. I’ve come back to act fair and square.
(NANCY attempts to speak, but has to struggle for her breath.)
EVANS (patting her on the back). There he is, my gal. He’s not much to look at, and he’s treated you very shabby; but if you want him, I suppose you must have him.
NANCY (fiercely). Want him? Want him? I tell you it’s not Bert. How dare he come here and call me Nan? How dare he?
FRED (reproachfully). You used not to mind it.
NANCY (to EVANS and JACK). I tell you it’s not Bert. Do you think I don’t know?
EVANS (looking round helplessly). Well, he ought to know who he is.
FRED (smiling at NANCY). Of course I ought. Besides, what reason should I have for saying I am Bert if I am not? Eh? Tell me that.
JACK (to NANCY). That’s a fair question. Why should he?
NANCY (tartly). Better ask him.
EVANS (slowly). Look here, my gal. For four years you’ve been grieving over Bert, and me and Jack have been hunting for him high and low. We’ve got him at last, and now you’ve got to have him. You know me!
JACK. If he don’t run away again. I wouldn’t trust him further than I could see him.
EVANS (blankly). No, me neither. And if he does, Nan’ll be worse than ever.
NANCY (overwrought). Oh! Oh! I keep telling you it isn’t Bert.
EVANS (disregarding her). What about tying him up and locking him in the attic?
JACK. And who’s going to take his meals to him?
EVANS. H’m! I didn’t think of that. P’r’aps we could get young Bob Smith to watch him. He ain’t been doing much lately.
FRED. Why bother? I came back of my own free will, didn’t I? I’ll never go away from Nancy again, never!
(NANCY rises and walks up and down the room.)
EVANS (sharply). Sit down. How can I think while you are doing that?
FRED. Look here! I’ve got an idea. I’ll lodge with you and I’ll give you all my money and things to take care of. I can’t run away without money. (He counts
his money and places it on the table.) Nine pounds eighteen shillings and fourpence, return ticket, watch and chain. There you are, will that do?
JACK (to his father). What about his boots?
EVANS (pondering). He can have them. (He sweeps the money, watch, etc., into his pocket.) There you are, and the day you are married I hand them back to you.
NANCY. He’ll have to wait a long time.
FRED. All good things are worth waiting for.
NANCY (eyeing him). We’ll see. (She walks to the street door.)
EVANS. Where are you going?
NANCY. Just going to tell one or two of Bert’s old friends that he has come back.
EVANS. What for?
NANCY (pausing with her hand on the latch). Oh, fun!
(She goes out.)
JACK. What’s she up to now?
EVANS. Just showing off a little temper. Wants to show she ain’t going to forgive him too easy. (He turns to FRED.) Not but what you behaved badly. However, let bygones be bygones, that’s my motto. Live and let live.
JACK (enthusiastically). Cut and come again! Like he did last time.
EVANS (turning on him). That’s enough from you, my lad. When I want any of your lip I’ll ask you for it.
JACK. All right. All right. But you mark my words, Nan’s up to something.
EVANS. Up to something? What can she be up to?
JACK. I don’t know, but I do know that whenever you tell her to do anything, she never does it. She’s got the measure of your foot all right.
EVANS (threateningly). Somebody else’ll have it, too, if they’re not careful.
JACK. All right. But the idea of anybody wanting to marry Nan is what gets over me. I can’t see anything in her, and I’ve known her long enough.
FRED (hotly). You haven’t got any taste.
JACK. I don’t want any if it makes chaps marry. I always think that anybody that gets married is a bit of a softy. Always have.
EVANS (exploding). Look here, my lad! Are you forgetting that I was married?
JACK (taken rather aback). No — no; but, of course, you were very young at the time. Very young.
FRED. That’s the best time to marry.
JACK. Yes, if you wait till you get older you know too much; you keep single and spend your money on yourself. (Musingly.) I wonder whether Nan has run away.
EVANS. Run away? What for?
JACK (jerking his head towards FRED). That.
EVANS (uneasily). Nonsense! She wouldn’t do that. Besides, where could she run to?
JACK (with great calmness). Might have jumped into the harbour.
(EVANS and FEED, uttering ejaculations, rise from their chairs. EVANS goes to the door, opens it and looks out. He closes it and re-enters the room.)
EVANS (to JACK). You’ve got a nasty mind, that’s what you’ve got. She’s just standing at the corner, talking to old Ben Prout.
FRED (nervously). I hope I haven’t upset her. JACK. Upset her! It’s Nancy that’ll do the upsetting. Didn’t you find that out the last time you were here?
FRED. NO.
JACK. What did you run away for, then?
FRED. Eh? Oh, I don’t know. I — I — er —
EVANS (to JACK). That’s all over. Don’t say anything more about it. If you must open that mouth of yours, try to say something pleasant.
(Enter NANCY. She is smiling.)
What have you been out for?
NANCY. Nothing. I just went out to tell one or two of Bert’s old friends that he had come back.
JACK. Bert! Bert! Just now you said he wasn’t Bert.
NANCY. Yes, but I know better now.
EVANS. I can’t think how it was you didn’t know him at first. You’re usually wide awake enough.
NANCY (smiling at FEED). Silly of me, but I am silly sometimes. I was before, wasn’t I, Bert?
FEED (tenderly). Not what you could call silly. NANCY (sharply). Oh! What would you call it, then?
FEED. I don’t know exactly; but I liked it. NANCY (with an odd smile). Yes, you liked everything I did — except one. Do you remember what you said that afternoon when I put a hot spoon down your neck? FRED. Yes.
NANCY (still smiling at him). What was it?
FRED (primly). I won’t repeat it.
EVANS. Quite right. I can imagine what you said, but there’s no need to repeat it. I won’t have bad language in this house — I’ve told Jack so, over and over again.
NANCY (to FRED). And you haven’t forgotten that evening in Shell Alley?
FRED (fervently). I shall never forget it.
NANCY. Joe Wilson and Ben Prout were there. You always liked them.
FRED. Always. Very nice chaps. Both of ’em.
(NANCY coughs, and pulling out her handkerchief, continues to cough. FRED gently pats her back.)
NANCY. Oh, dear! (She coughs again, loudly.)
(The door to the street is slowly pushed open and the head of JOE WILSON appears.)
JOE. Evening, Mr. Evans. Evening, Jack. Why!
Halloa! Bert! Well, of all the —
FRED (rising, and with an attempt at enthusiasm). Hal-loa!
JOE (gripping his hand). I thought you was lost. I never thought I was going to set eyes on you again.... Well, this is a surprise. You ain’t forgot Joe Wilson, have you?
FRED. ‘Course I haven’t, Joe. I’d have known you anywhere.
(They shake hands again, and JOE, at NANCY’S invitation, takes a chair.)
JOE. YOU ain’t altered a bit.
FRED. YOU either, Joe.
JOE. It’s quite like old times again. Do you remember when you went away, and me and Ben Prout were there to see you off?
FRED (hesitatingly). Ye-es. Of course I do.
JOE. We thought you wasn’t there at first, and then we saw you and Nancy standing behind a milk-can, saying good-bye.
NANCY. That’ll do! When I want you to be funny, Joe Wilson, I’ll tell you.
JACK (grinning). They don’t make those milk-cans fat enough.
NANCY. And that’s enough from you.
JOE. Ah! Those were happy times. I lay you haven’t forgot one thing, Bert?
FRED. What’s that?
JOE. That ‘arf-quid I lent you.
FRED (amazed). Half-quid? What half-quid?
JOE. The ‘arf-quid I lent you four years ago.
(FRED turns and eyes NANCY. She smiles broadly.)
FRED (slowly). Come to think of it, I do remember something.
JOE. That night at the “Dolphin.” You’d come out without any money.
FRED. Oh — yes. (He turns to EVANS.) Would you mind giving Joe half a quid of that money you’re minding for me?
EVANS (knitting his brows, and taking money from his pocket places it on the table, and turns to JOE). Here you are.
JOE (picking it up). Thankee. Well, it’s nice to see you again, Bert. So long.
(He turns to the door, and makes a quick exit, leaving the door open. There is a long pause.)
FRED (lightly). Same old Joe. He hasn’t altered a bit.
JACK. Seems to have a good memory.
EVANS (glumly, to FRED). Better memory than you seem to have.
FRED. I don’t borrow money, as a rule. (He glances at NANCY.) I suppose that’s how I came to forget it, (The door is pushed open a little more, and the face of BEN PROUT appears. He nods waggishly at FEED, and then, breathing heavily, makes his way to him with hand outstretched. FEED forces a smile and shakes hands.)
How goes it?
PROUT (sinking into a chair and addressing the company). He’s grown better-looking than ever.
FEED. So have you. I should hardly have known you.
PROUT. Well, I’m glad to have seen you again. We’re all glad to see you back, and I ‘ope that when the wedding-cake is sent out there’ll be a bit for old Ben Prout.
FEED (quickly). You’ll be the first, Ben.
PROUT. That’s right. That’s right. Ah, it’s a sight for sore eyes to see you two
together again. If ever a couple was made for each other, you was. Why, every time I look at you I feel younger!
EVANS (gruffly). Well, go on looking at them. There’s no charge.
PROUT (shaking his head). No, I know there ain’t. Money couldn’t pay for it. And talking of money, it only shows what mistakes a man can make. It only shows how easy it is to misjudge one’s feller-creatures. (He turns to FEED.) When you went away sudden, four years ago, I says to myself, “Ben Prout,” I says, “make up your mind to it, that two quid ‘as gorn.”
(There is a pause; all look, first at him, and then at FEED.)
FEED (stiffly). Two quid? What two quid?
PROUT (in a surprised voice). The two quid I lent you.
FEED. YOU never lent me two quid.
PROUT (in a pained voice, as he rises). All right. Say no more about it then. It don’t matter. It won’t be the first money I’ve lent — and lost, and I don’t suppose it will be the last. (He moves towards the door.)
FEED (uncomfortably conscious of the gaze of EVANS and JACK). Perhaps you are mixing me up with somebody else. When did you lend me the money?
NANCY (in a syrupy voice). When you and I met him that evening on the pier. Don’t you remember? He had to go home to get it.
PROUT. Ran all the way, I did.
NANCY (smiling at FRED). The night before you went home. You must remember it.
FRED. I can’t honestly say that I do, but if you say so it must be right. (He turns nervously to EVANS.) Would you mind paying him for me?
(EVANS rises and puts his hand in his trouser-pocket. PROUT stands in front of him, his fingers twitching.)
EVANS (gruffly, to FRED). Well, it’s your money, and I suppose you ought to pay your debts; still —
(EVANS puts the money on the table and breaks off his remarks in amazement as PROUT, snatching it up, bolts headlong from the room.)
JACK. Seems to be in a hurry. I expect he’s gone off to the “Cat and Fiddle” to spend it before Bert can borrow it again.
EVANS (heavily, looking at FRED and NANCY). I don’t like people who borrow money. It’s a bad habit and gets them a bad name.
(There is a slight sound at the street door, and they all gaze at it, as inch by inch it slowly opens.)
(In stentorious tones.) Well! What do you want?
(The door closes hastily; EVANS springs up and opening it, looks out.)
Works of W. W. Jacobs Page 304
