Harold Pinter Plays 1
Page 20
LUSH
It’s warm out too. The snow has turned to slush.
ROOTE turns, expostulating.
GIBBS
Shall I call Tubb on the intercom, sir?
LUSH
I tried the intercom before. It sounded a bit clogged up.
ROOTE
Clogged up? What’s the matter with this place? Everything’s clogged up, bunged up, stuffed up, buggered up. The whole thing’s running down hill. I don’t like the look of it. Let’s see.
He switches on the intercom on his desk and sits. A voice is heard.
VOICE
Number 84. A duck. Who’s got ticket number 84? A duck ready for the oven. No-one? Unclaimed, Fred. Next one coming up. Ticket number 21. Number 21. Ten Portuguese cigars. Ten beautiful Portuguese cigars. No-one? Unclaimed, Fred. Number 38. Two tickets to the circus. Two tickets to the circus. Unclaimed, Fred. Number 44. A lovely crockery, cutlery, china and cookery set. A lovely crockery, cutlery, china and cookery set. Number 44. Unclaimed, Fred.
ROOTE switches off.
ROOTE
Yes, it does sound a bit clogged up, I must admit.
He fills the glasses.
What’s it all about?
LUSH
It’s the Christmas raffle, held by the understaff in the understaff canteen.
ROOTE
Raffle? Did we get any tickets?
GIBBS
I was approached, sir, but on behalf of the staff declined to purchase any.
ROOTE
Did you? Well, there’s a bloody big amount of unclaimed stuff down there, isn’t there?
LUSH
Must be a whole pile of it.
ROOTE
Well, who gets it?
LUSH
I expect there’ll be another raffle at Easter, sir.
ROOTE
What about that duck? You can’t keep a duck until Easter! It’s … it’s just not sensible! There’s not much I don’t know about poultry. Lush, make an immediate inquiry as to what’s to become of that duck.
He sits.
LUSH
Yes, sir. What about the two tickets to the circus?
ROOTE
Christmas, eh? And I haven’t received one present. Not one gift, of any kind. It’s most upsetting.
LUSH
Actually, I’ve seen the duck, sir.
ROOTE
You have? What’s it like?
LUSH
It’s a dead duck, sir.
ROOTE
Dead?
LUSH
Quite dead, sir.
ROOTE
Good God, I didn’t know it was dead.
LUSH
Yes, as dead as patient 6457. If not deader.
Silence
GIBBS
Is this Ministry whisky, sir? It’s quite excellent.
ROOTE (to LUSH)
What do you know about 6457?
GIBBS
I wouldn’t advise any further discussion of that matter, sir.
ROOTE
What do you know about 6457?
LUSH
I know that he’s dead.
ROOTE
What do you know about it?
GIBBS
It is inadvisable to discuss the matter any further, sir.
ROOTE (to LUSH)
You’re damned clever, aren’t you?
LUSH
As a matter of fact, I met a relation of 6457’s today.
ROOTE
You what?
GIBBS
Lush. The matter is closed.
ROOTE
What relation?
LUSH
His mother.
ROOTE
How do you know she was his mother?
LUSH
She said so.
ROOTE
She was a liar!
LUSH
No, she wasn’t.
ROOTE
How do you know?
LUSH
She looked like a mother.
ROOTE
How do you know what mothers look like?
LUSH
I had one myself.
ROOTE
Do you think I didn’t?
LUSH (pointing at GIBBS)
He didn’t.
GIBBS
Oh yes, I did, damn you!
ROOTE
I was fed, Mister Cleverboots, at my mother’s breast.
GIBBS
So was I.
LUSH
Me too.
Sudden silence
ROOTE
WELL? AND WHAT ABOUT IT?
ROOTE sinks back in his seat. He looks at his glass, picks it up and swallows the glassful. He chokes, stands, writhes about in a fit of coughing. GIBBS and LUSH go to his aid.
GIBBS (taking his left arm)
Come and sit in the armchair, sir.
LUSH (taking his right arm)
Come and sit on the sofa, sir.
A short tug-of-war commences, ROOTE still coughing.
ROOTE shakes them off. He stands, shaking and panting.
LUSH goes to the desk, picks up a glass of whisky, takes it to ROOTE.
LUSH
Here, drink this, sir.
ROOTE viciously knocks the glass out of his hand. He stands, glaring at them, then goes back to his desk, sits. LUSH picks up the glass and places it on ROOTE’s desk. LUSH fills his glass.
ROOTE
6457’s mother, eh? How did she get in? Wasn’t the porter on duty at the gate?
LUSH
Don’t you want to know what she wanted?
ROOTE
I want to know why the porter wasn’t on duty at the gate!
GIBBS
He’s in charge of the raffle, sir, in the understaff canteen.
ROOTE
Tubb? That was Tubb just now, on the intercom?
LUSH
Oh, very much Tubb, sir.
ROOTE
Holding a raffle when he should have been on duty at the gate? Honestly, things are going from bad to worse. (Pouring.) Down the hatch. (He raises his glass.)
GIBBS
Happy Christmas, sir.
ROOTE
Happy Christmas to you, Gibbs.
LUSH
Happy Christmas, sir.
ROOTE
Thank you. Happy Christmas to you, Lush. A happy Christmas to you both.
GIBBS and LUSH (raising their glasses)
And to you, sir.
ROOTE
Thanks. And the best of luck for the new year.
GIBBS and LUSH
The best of luck for the new year to you, sir.
A knock at the door.
ROOTE
Who’s that?
TUBB
Tubb, sir.
ROOTE
Come in.
Enter TUBB, carrying a small box.
Tubb! I thought you were on the intercom.
TUBB
Merry Christmas to you, Colonel.
ROOTE
Thank you, Tubb. And to you.
TUBB
How did you enjoy your Christmas dinner, sir?
ROOTE
Disappointing.
TUBB
Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Colonel.
ROOTE
Too much gravy.
LUSH
Really? Mine was bone dry.
ROOTE
What?
LUSH
Honestly. Bone dry.
ROOTE
Well, mine was swimming in gravy.
LUSH
That’s funny, isn’t it, Gibbs? His was swimming in gravy and mine was bone dry.
TUBB
I’m surprised to hear yours was wet, Colonel.
ROOTE
Well, it was. Very wet.
He looks at the box.
What have you got there, Tubb?
TUBB
It’s a Christmas present for you, Colonel.
RO
OTE
A present?
TUBB
Just a little token of the understaff’s regard, Colonel. Just a little something for Christmas.
ROOTE
Not a duck, by any chance?
TUBB
A duck, Colonel?
ROOTE
I just wondered whether it might have been a duck.
TUBB
Oh no, we haven’t got any duck, sir.
ROOTE
No duck?
TUBB
No, sir.
ROOTE
What about number 84 then? Eh? Unclaimed. Ready for the oven. What? That was a duck wasn’t it? And what’s more it was unclaimed.
TUBB
Oh, that duck. Oh, that was claimed.
ROOTE (startled)
Claimed? Who by?
TUBB
Well, it wasn’t exactly claimed, sir. But we found out who owned the ticket, so we’re keeping it for him till he turns up, it’s only fair.
ROOTE
Who is it?
TUBB
A man called Lamb, sir.
Silence
But anyway, what I’ve got here, Colonel, is a little token of regard from the understaff and the compliments of the season from all of us in the understaff, wishing you all the very best of luck in the year to come.
ROOTE
Thanks very much, Tubb. What is it?
TUBB
It’s a Christmas cake, Colonel, cooked by the cook.
ROOTE
A cake? For me?
LUSH
That’s very nice, isn’t it, Gibbs?
ROOTE
A cake? For me?
TUBB
For you, sir.
ROOTE
How kind. How very kind. I’m most touched. Most touched. More than touched. Deeply moved. It’s a long time, a very long time, since I had a Christmas cake. A long long time.
Pause
This … was from the cook?
TUBB
From the cook, sir, from me, sir, from the kitchen staff, sir, from the portering staff, sir, from the cleaning staff, sir, from the very whole of the understaff, sir, from the very all of us … to you, sir.
ROOTE
How very kind. How very very kind. I’m deeply moved. Deeply moved. More than moved …
LUSH
What an awfully nice gesture.
TUBB
The understaff, Colonel, and I’m sure the patients, would be even more deeply moved if you were to give them a Christmas address, sir.
ROOTE
An address?
TUBB
They would be most touched, sir. They’re all clustered up now in the canteen and I’ve fitted up the loudspeaker system with an extension to all the corridors leading onto the patients’ rooms as well.
LUSH
What a splendid idea.
ROOTE
An address? Your people would appreciate an address, would they?
TUBB
Oh, they would, sir. I know they would. Just a little word for Christmas.
LUSH
What an exciting innovation.
ROOTE
And the patients … they haven’t expressed any desire … themselves … have they?
TUBB
Well, not exactly expressed one, sir, as far as I know, but I’ve fitted up the loudspeaker system to their rooms and I’m sure they’d be deeply moved.
Pause
ROOTE
What do you think, Gibbs?
Pause
Gibbs!
GIBBS
I beg pardon, sir?
ROOTE
I said what do you think?
GIBBS
I … I think it’s an excellent idea, sir.
ROOTE
Lush?
LUSH
I think it would be deeply moving, sir.
Pause
ROOTE (briskly)
Where’s the mike?
TUBB
In the cake, sir.
ROOTE
In the cake!
TUBB
I just shoved it in with the cake, sir.
ROOTE
Well, it’s got no business to be anywhere near the cake! What’s the matter with you? (Muttering.) What a place to put a mike!
TUBB (extracting mike)
Here we are, Colonel.
ROOTE
Well, plug it in, let’s get on with it.
TUBB plugs in by the wall. ROOTE sits, clean his throat.
TUBB (with mike)
On here on the blotting paper all right, sir?
ROOTE
Move out of it.
TUBB
Switch this switch when you’re ready, Colonel.
ROOTE (slowly)
Yes.
TUBB
They’re all ready. They’re all clustered up in the understaff canteen.
Pause
ROOTE
What are you looking at, Gibbs?
GIBBS
Nothing in particular, sir.
ROOTE
You were looking at me! Do you call that nothing in particular?
Pause
I can’t do it now. I’ll do it later on. Later on. You can’t make a speech like that without some thought. Tell them not to be disappointed. Tell them they’ll hear my Christmas address later on. Later on.
The lights go down on the office. They go up on the sitting room.
MISS CUTTS comes in. She sits, takes a table tennis ball from her pocket, tosses it up and catches it.
GIBBS descends the stairs.
Suddenly a long sigh is heard, amplified.
GIBBS stops. MISS CUTTS, about to toss the ball, stops.
A long keen is heard, amplified.
GIBBS looks up. MISS CUTTS looks up.
A laugh is heard, amplified, dying away.
Silence.
MISS CUTTS puts the ball to her mouth.
GIBBS is still a moment, then turns and enters the sitting room.
MISS CUTTS throws the ball at him. It falls at his feet.
CUTTS
Catch!
GIBBS looks down at the ball and stamps on it.
GIBBS
Don’t do that.
He takes out a packet of pills and swallows one.
CUTTS
What’s the matter, Charlie?
GIBBS
Headache.
He sits, closes his eyes.
MISS CUTTS goes to him.
CUTTS
Have you got a headache, darling? Come to room 1A. (She kisses him.) I’ll make it better for you. Are you coming?
GIBBS
I’ve got to go back.
CUTTS
What! Why?
GIBBS
To hear his Christmas address.
CUTTS
Another one? Oh, God, I thought he’d forgotten all about it.
GIBBS
He hadn’t forgotten.
CUTTS
Every year. Sometimes I could scream.
GIBBS
I can’t stand screaming.
CUTTS
Charlie, what is it? Don’t I please you any more? Tell me. Be honest. Am I no longer the pleasure I was? Be frank with me. Am I failing you?
GIBBS
Stop it. I’m not in the mood.
CUTTS
Let me massage your neck.
She touches his neck.
GIBBS (throwing her off)
You and your necks! You love to get your hands round someone’s neck!
CUTTS
So do you.
GIBBS
I’m not in the habit of touching people’s necks.
CUTTS
It was such fun working with you this morning.
She sits.
You’re so clever. I think you’re the cleverest man I’ve ever had anything to do with. We don’t work together nearly enough. It’s such fun in room 1A. I think that’s my favourite room in the whole p
lace. It’s such an intimate room. You can ask the questions and be so intimate. I love your questions. They’re so intimate themselves. That’s what makes it so exciting. The intimacy becomes unbearable. You keep waiting for the questions to stop, to pass from one intimacy into another, beautifully, and just when you know you can’t ask another one, that they must stop, that you must stop, that it must stop — they stop! — and we’re alone, and we can start, we can continue, in room 1A, because you know, you always know, your sense of timing is perfect, you know when the questions must stop, those questions, and you must start asking me questions, other questions, and I must start asking you questions, and it’s question time, question time, question time, forever and forever and forever.
GIBBS (standing)
I tell you I’m not in the mood.
CUTTS
Come to 1A, Charlie.
GIBBS stands, looking at the door.
GIBBS
Did you hear anything, just now?
CUTTS
What?
GIBBS
Something. Sounds. Sounds. Just now. Just before.
CUTTS
Nothing. Not a thing. Nothing.
She looks at him.
What was it?
GIBBS
I don’t know.
CUTTS (a nervous chuckle)
Don’t tell me something’s going to happen?
GIBBS
Something’s happening. But I don’t know what. I can’t define it.
CUTTS
How absurd.
GIBBS
It is absurd. Something’s happening, I feel it, I know it, and I can’t define it. It’s … it’s ridiculous.
CUTTS
I know what’s going to happen.
GIBBS
That old fool in there, he sees nothing, getting drunk with that … bitch.
CUTTS
I know what’s going to happen. You’re going to kill him.
GIBBS
What?
CUTTS
Aren’t you? You promised. You promised you would. Didn’t you? Do it now. Now. Before he makes his Christmas speech.
GIBBS
Oh, stow it, for God’s sake!
CUTTS
But you said you would!
GIBBS
Did I?
CUTTS
You said you’d stab him and pretend it was someone else.
GIBBS
Really? Who?
CUTTS
Lush.
GIBBS
Lush? Lush could never be taken for a murderer. He’s scum but he’s not a murderer.
CUTTS
No, but you are.
GIBBS stares at her.
GIBBS (quietly)
What did you say?
Pause
What did you call me?
CUTTS
Nothing.
GIBBS
You called me a murderer.
CUTTS
No, I didn’t call you anything –
GIBBS (ice)