by David Hare
But Dominic is already shaking his head.
Dominic Oh that’s simply old-fashioned. It really is nonsense! I don’t accept that distinction at all.
Esme No?
Dominic That whole old-fashioned notion! Criticism can be just as creative as making up stories, you know. Sometimes more so. Seeing things clearly, placing them, giving them context: that work is just as important as art.
Esme You think so?
Esme grins conspiratorially at Amy.
Dominic Oh I suppose you think it’s all down to jealousy. Of course! Isn’t that what actors and writers all say? I must somehow be jealous. The perpetual excuse! Critics only hate you because they’ve not had the guts to make crappy British features or churn out turgid middle-class novels themselves.
Esme just smiles, as if his tone proved her case.
Esme Well …
Dominic I suppose you think critics are all fuelled by jealousy?
Esme Not all of them, no.
Dominic But you think that I am?
Esme looks at him a moment, serious.
Esme I think you’re aware of your power.
Dominic I most certainly hope so. Because the point is, I try to use it for good.
Dominic in his view has won the argument.
And the result is, the programme’s almost absurdly successful …
Esme I know that.
Dominic Its ratings are way beyond what anyone hoped. Because it actually puts itself – unlike all the others – on the side of the consumer …
Esme The consumer?
Dominic Yes. By which I mean ordinary people like me …
Esme Oh …
Dominic And this whole, you know, arty flim-flammery, this whole elitist nonsense of ‘bloody-well-like-this’ and ‘we-know-what’s-what’ – I tell you, that attitude’s over. It’s finished.
Esme Well, thank God at least we’re clear about that.
Dominic looks at her warily.
It is the most wonderful casting. The country’s most famous, most influential programme which lays down the law on the arts. And it’s run by a man who seems to have only one small disadvantage. What is it? Remind me. Oh yes, I remember.
She suddenly looks across the room at him with real savagery.
It turns out he doesn’t like art!
She has lit the blue touchpaper but before Dominic can react, Evelyn comes into the room. She is now eighty-four. She is still physically firm, in one of her tartan skirts and pullovers. But when Esme gets up to usher her to her favoured chair you see that she is being treated differently.
Ah Evelyn. All right?
Evelyn I thought I heard voices.
Esme You did.
Evelyn There are people here.
Esme Yes, that’s right. This is Dominic.
Evelyn Dominic?
Dominic Evelyn.
Esme You remember? And Amy.
Amy Grandma.
Evelyn Yes, I remember. And you? Who are you?
Esme I’m your daughter-in-law. I’m Esme.
Evelyn And Bernard? Where’s Bernard?
Esme I’m afraid to say Bernard’s not here.
Evelyn Not here?
Esme No. Bernard is dead.
Evelyn Dead?
Esme Do me a favour, Frank. Can you just get her a drink?
Evelyn has sat down, very confused now. Dominic is restless, wanting to interrupt.
Dominic Look …
Evelyn He’s dead and nobody told me?
Esme Nonsense. We told you, it’s just you forget.
Evelyn How could you not tell me?
She is beginning to cry. Esme is signalling urgently to Frank.
Esme More. More. Just keep pouring.
Evelyn You didn’t even tell me. How could you? Why did nobody tell me?
Esme ignores Evelyn’s crying.
Dominic I’m sorry, I’m aware that somehow you all think it’s funny …
Amy Oh God, now that is the children this time …
She goes to the hall, as Dominic goes on.
Dominic There’s some sort of hidden agreement in play …
Frank holds up a huge measure of scotch.
Esme Yes, that’s fine.
Dominic You think you can all just dump on my programme …
Esme (taking it) Thank you …
Dominic ‘Oh it’s all just this trivial rubbish on telly. So it doesn’t matter, we can say what we like …’
Esme Oh really now, Dominic …
Dominic Whereas – please! – just imagine the horror if I decided that this was a two-way privilege. Oh, if I decided to tell the truth about you!
Frank looks puzzled, but Esme turns, at last giving Dominic her whole attention.
Frank What truth?
Esme Dominic, you’re highly successful. You’ve no reason to worry. You now have the power you craved.
Dominic But of course in your view that’s vulgar and nasty …
Esme I haven’t said anything!
Dominic Because you think it’s wrong to want to get on!
Amy is returning through the hall and Dominic is prompted by the sound of her.
Evelyn It’s good. Can I have some more?
Esme No, not now.
Amy is at the door, unaware of what has gone on.
Amy Dominic, you did say you’d bath them.
Dominic I will bath them.
Amy Well, when?
There is a new determination in his eye.
Dominic I will do it. I will bath them just as I promised. And then – I’m sorry – but I’m going to take them back home.
Amy What?
Dominic Yes. I’m just tired of this snobbery …
Amy What snobbery?
Esme Oh really!
Frank Now steady on …
Dominic This unspoken assumption. You know what I’m saying. Always! This permanent leer of good taste! Whenever I come here, I walk into this household …
Amy Oh …
Dominic I just have to take one look at the walls. And suddenly I’m back in short trousers. I feel like I’m back to being fifteen years old.
Amy looks, but Esme is not reacting.
And you two go into a huddle. The two of you. Smiling and giggling like schoolgirls in each other’s ears. And at once I’m no better than some sort of dustman or servant.
Amy Dominic, I think you exaggerate.
Evelyn has been peering at Dominic.
Evelyn Is that man Bernard?
Esme I think we can safely say that he’s not.
Dominic is expressing years of grievance and he’s not going to let go.
Dominic And I do understand. Yes of course, you resent me. You’re right. I work in a medium which you look down on. You pretend it’s not good. But in fact that’s not your real reason. You really don’t like it because television brings you bad news. Because actually, in some crude way, it does belong to the people …
Esme Oh Dominic, ‘the people’!
She laughs out loud, mocking him.
What do you know about ‘the people’, indeed?
Dominic Yes, the truth is: you fear it. Because in its awful, gaudy vitality, television reminds you of what people think. And when you hear their opinions, when you see the evidence of their real taste, then it’s pitifully obvious: the sheer downright irrelevance of this self-enclosed arty little world that you’ve made.
Esme Oh …
Dominic People love things which you think are vulgar. They’ve no time for the stuff which you think so great!
He smiles, anticipating his own joke.
Forgive me, but a lot of people love Deirdre Keane. They think she’s a very fine actress.
Esme Dominic, there’s no one in the world who really thinks that.
Amy Look, Dominic …
Dominic What?
Amy Can’t you just leave it?
Dominic Why should I?
Amy Not everything is directed at you. You
always do this. It’s one of those stupid, meaningless arguments …
But Dominic is only fired more by her challenge.
Dominic I’m swamped in this bloody English gentility! It’s typical. She opens this absurd bloody fête! But the question is, will that stop her doing it? Oh no, not her. She wants it both ways. Both to do it and mock it.
Amy Dominic …
Dominic It’s classic. The English attitude to their own institutions: defend them to strangers but laugh at them yourselves! The privilege of not seeming to take anything seriously. But still making sure that nothing is changed!
Esme is quiet. He knows he has hit home.
If you don’t want to do the programme, then say so! Instead of just trying to get me provoked.
Amy She’s not trying. I’d say she’s succeeding.
He looks unforgivingly at Amy.
Dominic I’ve always thought this. Whenever we’ve visited. I’ve had the same thought. She is permitted to look down on how I make my living. But I’m not permitted to look down on hers.
There is a depth of feeling now which silences the others. Frank tries to help.
Frank I’m sorry, I’ve been standing here. But I haven’t heard anything – not one single syllable – to cause you such desperate offence. All right, you were arguing about culture. I know nothing about culture. I’m the first to admit. The last film I saw was Doctor Zhivago. In my opinion, it was pretty good. But even if someone came along and said, no, you’re wrong, it was bollocks, it hardly seems to me important. It’s not worth risking a friendship for that.
Dominic But we’re not. That’s not the argument. We’re not talking about art. Isn’t that right? No, we’re discussing something quite different.
Frank What’s that?
Neither Esme nor Dominic want to answer.
What are you discussing?
Dominic Whether I deserve her daughter or not.
Evelyn Her daughter?
Amy makes to intervene, but Dominic overrides her.
Amy Dominic …
Dominic You know she once told me Amy was pregnant. She told me before Amy herself. Yes. You remember that evening? When your mother blurted it out?
He looks now at Amy.
I wonder, do you know why she did that? Did you believe her when she said it just sort of slipped out? ‘Just sort of slipped out’? No, I don’t think so. She said it in the hope I might then go away. She’s never come to terms with the fact Amy loves me. She thinks that Amy is wrong to share her life on my terms.
Amy She’s never said that.
Dominic Hasn’t she? She thinks you shouldn’t have taken me. She hates the arrangement we made.
Amy Please.
Dominic It was clear. I would always put my work first. Well, it’s true. We did agree that. Didn’t we? Esme disapproved.
Esme’s face is set like a mask.
You see, she can’t answer. She won’t. That’s Esme. To her credit, she’ll never say the kind thing. But why don’t we stop this dancing round each other’s feelings? Why don’t I simply stop coming down?
Esme Fine.
Amy Mum …
Dominic I didn’t want you on the programme.
Esme No. No, I can see that.
Dominic The whole thing was Amy’s idea.
Esme Yes.
Dominic Because … well, we know Amy … it’s Amy’s view that everyone should try to get on.
There is a moment’s silence.
Well, I say no, actually, let’s really not bother. The mistake is to try and be kind. Like employing actresses to talk about theatre for no other reason but they’re down on their luck.
Amy looks down, embarrassed by this now.
I didn’t think it was sensible. I didn’t want my girlfriend’s mother, you see. Because I knew I’d be having her for the wrong reasons …
Esme Yes.
Dominic And things always go wrong when they’re done in bad faith.
He moves towards the door.
It’s up to you, Amy. I can take the children or not. Please. Either stay the weekend with your mother. Or else why not come back with me?
He goes out and up the stairs. We hear him calling to the children. Evelyn has fallen asleep. Amy takes a step towards Esme, who is giving nothing away.
Amy I wonder … do you think you could go and see if he’ll talk to you?
Esme looks at her as if she doesn’t understand the question.
Mum, I do know it isn’t your fault. But if you … I don’t know … if you just went up and talked to him …
Frank You could at least talk to him, Esme.
Esme Oh, so you think that as well?
She walks across the room. She lights a cigarette.
What, I’m meant to apologise?
Amy No.
Esme I’m meant to pretend I’ve done something wrong?
Esme shrugs slightly.
He’s right. There are people who are simply not meant to get on. Amy, you do it from kindness. I know that. I know it’s your view that love conquers all. But it doesn’t. Or at least, that’s what I’ve learned.
At once from upstairs the sound of Dominic calling down.
Dominic (off) Are you coming, Amy? Are we taking the children? They’re ready. They can go back.
Amy (calls) Just give me a minute.
She looks all the time at Esme.
(Calls.) I just need a minute.
Dominic (off) We’re going.
Amy takes a step towards Esme.
Esme Come on, it’s not so dramatic, it’s not so disastrous as that. We’ll see each other. I’ll see the children.
Amy You’ve never understood. You know that I love him. You never see the man who I love.
Esme No. And if I was going to, I fear the moment has passed. Now I’m getting supper.
She has suddenly moved dismissively, but Amy is infuriated by her answer.
Dominic (off) Amy!
Amy Why do you say that? You still can’t forgive me. You can’t forgive the choice that I made.
Esme It was wrong.
Amy It isn’t your business. And the reason you make it your business is because you have no life of your own!
Dominic (off) Amy! Let’s go!
Amy turns and goes out. Esme is suddenly stilled by what Amy has said. She stands at the table where she had been headed.
Amy (off) Are you ready?
Dominic (off) Yes. I’ve got all your things. Come on, we’re going. Just give me a hand.
There is the sound of them on the stairs. Then it goes quiet.
Esme Frank, I wonder, perhaps now this evening …
Frank Of course. Tomorrow I’ll give you a call.
Esme Would you? I’d like that.
He nods and moves out through the veranda, patting his pockets as he goes.
Frank Are you all right, Esme?
Esme I promise I’m fine.
Frank goes out. It is nearly dark outside. Esme moves to clear up the glasses and plates. From outside the sound of the children and the adults. Then the door slamming and the car driving away. As Esme collects the last plate, Evelyn wakes.
Evelyn Where’s Bernard? Somebody tell me. Where’s Bernard?
Esme Evelyn, I’ve told you. Bernard is dead.
Evelyn Yes.
There is a short pause.
Evelyn And so tell me one more thing. Where’s Bernard?
Esme goes into the veranda. She sets down a chair where she can sit with her back to us and stare at the night sky. Then after a while she answers.
Esme Bernard’s not here. Bernard is dead.
End of Act Two.
Act Three
The same. It is eight years later. A summer night in 1993. It is very dark. A single lamp burns at the table, throwing big shadows all over the room. Frank is sitting in shirtsleeves and corduroys, working alone. The table is piled up with books and documents. He has glasses on and has been working for many hours. His customary bottle
of whisky is beside him. At some distance from him Evelyn is asleep in a wheelchair. She is ninety-two. She is very thin with an astonishingly pale face and a shock of white hair. She sleeps with her mouth open.
After a few moments, Frank looks up at the sound of someone moving outside. Amy appears through the veranda entrance. Now in her late thirties, she looks thinner than ever, and quite aged, almost gaunt. She comes quickly into the room, like a refugee, not realising there is anyone there.
Amy My God, you surprised me.
Frank I’m sorry.
Amy The veranda was open.
There is a moment’s unease.
I didn’t know you’d be here.
She hesitates, then kisses him, just brushing his cheek.
Frank.
Frank Hello, Amy. Are you looking for your mother?
Amy Well, yes. Is she always this late?
Frank No. But today there’s a big operation …
Amy Oh right.
Frank She’s been building up to it all week. And they can be quite tricky.
Amy nods, understanding.
I wish she would learn to drive herself back.
Amy looks at him a moment.
Amy And you?
Frank Me?
Amy Are you actually living here?
Frank Oh …
Amy Are you living here now?
Frank Do I really live here? I think you’d have to ask Esme. And will you please let me know what she says?
Amy puts her car keys down on the table.
Amy And do you bring her supper?
Frank Oh well, meals can be quite chaotic.
Amy Does she still get her stuff from the pub?
Frank Surely you noticed …
Amy No, I didn’t see anything …
Frank No pub any more.
Amy Really?
Frank is trying to put her at ease.
Frank They’ve made it a wine bar. Everything’s changed. You can only get wind-dried yak meat. Native Berkshire dishes like that. Served with alfalfa sprout salad.
Amy Good gracious.
Frank Oh Lord yes. All washed down with Aqua-Libra on draught.
Amy has begun to move round the room, looking at the walls.
Amy And how’s Mum?
Frank Bearing up. Considering. I’ve been trying to persuade her to move out of here …
Amy Ah.
Frank After what’s happened. It’s frankly too large. She could even live in London. Why not? But you know your mother.
