How dare you call me a murderer?
CUTTS
But I didn’t!
GIBBS
Who do you know that I’ve murdered?
CUTTS
No-one!
GIBBS
Then how dare you call me a murderer?
CUTTS
You’re not a murderer!
GIBBS (hissing)
I’m not a murderer, he’s a murderer, Roote is a murderer!
Pause
You dare to call me a murderer?
CUTTS (moaning)
No, Charlie.
GIBBS
You know what that is, don’t you? Slander. Defamation of character.
Pause
And on top of that, you try to incite me to kill my chief, Mr Roote. The man in charge. You, his own mistress. Just to satisfy your own personal whim.
Pause
CUTTS
Charlie …
GIBBS
Shut up!
MISS CUTTS falls out of her chair onto the floor.
CUTTS (whispering)
Oh, I wish I was in room 1A. I shall never get to room 1A again. I know I won’t. Ever.
Blackout.
A drone is heard.
The drone stops.
Lights go up on the office.
ROOTE and LUSH are still drinking.
ROOTE is at the desk, LUSH is seated, drooping.
ROOTE rises and perches on the front of the desk.
ROOTE
Women! I’ve known them all. Did I ever tell you about the woman in the blue dress? She was a spy. A spy in a blue dress. I met her in Casablanca. Believe it or believe it not that woman was an agent for a foreign power. She was tattooed on her belly with a pelican. Yes. Her belly was covered with a pelican. She could make that pelican waddle across the room to you. On all fours, sideways, feet first, arse-upwards, any way you like. Her control was superhuman. Only a woman could possess it. Under her blue dress she wore a shimmy. And under that shimmy she wore a pelican.
Pause
My cake! We haven’t cut the cake! My God, and it’s nearly midnight.
He unwraps the cake, holds it.
A beauty. (Going to his desk drawer.) Wait a minute. Where are we? Just the thing in here.
Takes a bayonet from the drawer.
Now. Right down the middle.
He cuts the cake.
I remember the day my walls used to be hung with Christmas cards, I used to walk knee deep in presents, all my aunties and uncles popping in for a drink, a log fire in the grate, bells on the Christmas tree, garlands, flowers, floral decoration, music, flowers … floral decoration … laughter … (Abruptly.) I didn’t notice a card from you, did I? Didn’t expect it either. Because you’ve no sense of decorum, it sticks out a mile. No heart. It’s not so much the language, it’s the attitude of mind that’s nasty, unwholesome, putrid.
LUSH
The snow has turned to slush.
ROOTE
The temperature must have dropped. (Thrusting a piece of cake at him.) Well, here you are, have a piece of this cake.
LUSH stares at it.
Go on. Eat it!
They both munch. LUSH spits his out. ROOTE grabs him by the neck.
What are you doing? That’s my cake!
LUSH
I can’t!
ROOTE (shaking him)
That’s my Christmas cake! You can’t spit out my Christmas cake!
LUSH (violently, breaking away)
Stuff it!
ROOTE regards him.
ROOTE (gravely)
You’ve insulted me, you’ve insulted the cook, and you’ve insulted Jesus Christ.
Pause
We’ve got no room for unhealthy minds in this establishment.
LUSH (muttering)
Muck and slush.
ROOTE
Lush!
LUSH
Colonel?
ROOTE (grimly)
I said you’d better watch your step. Everyone had better watch their step! (He begins to move about the room.) I don’t like the look of things. You can’t trust a soul. And there’s something going on here that I haven’t quite cottoned on to. There’s something funny afoot. I can feel it. Some people think I’m old, but oh no, not by a long chalk. I’ve got second sight. I can see through walls. (He considers.) I don’t mean that that’s second sight, seeing through walls. I mean I’ve got second sight and I can see through walls!
LUSH
And your knowledge of phytotomy, sir.
ROOTE
That’s more than a passing acquaintance. I can see right through them. I can hear a whisper in the basement. I didn’t waste my youth. I exercised my faculties – to the hilt! And I spent a lot of time pondering. Pondering. For instance, this stupid business of the world going round. It’s all a lot of balls. If the world was going round we’d be falling about all over the room. (Bending over LUSH.) But are we? Are we?
LUSH considers.
And today I feel something in my bones. I know it. Something’s going on which I can’t define. It’s ridiculous. But I don’t damn well know what it is. Do you think I’m going to be murdered?
LUSH
That’s it.
ROOTE brings the bottle to the desk and pours.
ROOTE
The day got off to a lousy start! A death and a birth. Absolutely bloody scandalous! Is it too much to ask – to keep the place clean?
LUSH goes to the desk, pours a drink, goes back to the armchair.
You know who you remind me of? You remind me of Whipper Wallace, back in the good old days.
The door opens. GIBBS enters and stands still.
He used to hang about with a chap called House-Peters. Boghouse-Peters we used to call him. I remember one day the Whipper and Boghouse – he had a scar on his left cheek, Boghouse – caught in some boghouse brawl, I suppose. (He laughs.) Well, anyway, there they were, the Whipper and Boghouse, rolling down the banks of the Euphrates this night, when up came a policeman …
He dissolves in laughter.
up came this policeman … up came a policeman … this policeman … approached … Boghouse … and the Whipper … were questioned … this night … the Euphrates … a policeman …
GIBBS moves. ROOTE jumps.
Aaaaahhhh! (To him.) What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, creeping up behind me like a snake! Eh? You frightened the life out of me.
GIBBS
I’ve come to hear the Christmas speech, sir.
ROOTE
Well, why don’t you make it? You’re dying to make it, aren’t you? Why don’t you make it?
GIBBS
It’s your privilege, sir.
ROOTE
Well, I’m sick to death of it! The patients, the staff, the understaff, the whole damn thing!
GIBBS
I’m sorry to hear that, sir.
ROOTE
It’s bleeding me to death.
LUSH
Then why do you continue?
ROOTE looks at him.
ROOTE
Because I’m a delegate.
LUSH
A delegate of what?
ROOTE (calmly)
I tell you I’m a delegate.
LUSH
A delegate of what?
They stare at each other.
ROOTE
Not only me. All of us. That bastard there. (To GIBBS.) Aren’t you?
GIBBS
I am.
ROOTE
There you are.
LUSH
You haven’t explained yourself.
ROOTE
Who hasn’t?
LUSH
You can’t explain yourself.
ROOTE
I can’t?
LUSH
Explain yourself.
GIBBS
He’s drunk.
ROOTE (moving to him)
Explain yourself, Lush.
LUSH
ROOTE
Be careful, sonny.
LUSH (rising)
You’re a delegate, are you?
ROOTE (facing him squarely)
I am.
LUSH
On whose authority? With what power are you entrusted? By whom were you appointed? Of what are you a delegate?
ROOTE hits him in the stomach.
ROOTE
I’m a delegate! (He hits him in the stomach.)
I was entrusted! (He hits him in the stomach.)
I’m a delegate! (He hits him in the stomach.)
I was appointed!
LUSH backs, crouched, slowly across the stage, ROOTE following him.
Delegated! (He hits him in the stomach.)
Appointed! (He hits him in the stomach.)
Entrusted!
He hits him in the stomach. LUSH sinks to the floor.
ROOTE stands over him and shouts:
I AM AUTHORISED!
LUSH remains heaped on the floor. ROOTE goes back to the desk, pours a drink for himself and GIBBS.
ROOTE (to GIBBS, sourly)
What do you want?
GIBBS
I came to hear your Christmas speech, Colonel.
ROOTE
You’re sure you didn’t come here to murder me?
GIBBS
Murder you?
ROOTE
Yes, wasn’t that why you came?
GIBBS
Certainly not. What an idea.
ROOTE
Yes, you did! I can see it in your eyes! Can you see it, Lush, in his eyes? This chap came here to do me in. You can see it in his eyes.
GIBBS
I did no such thing.
ROOTE
You went cross-eyed, man, don’t argue with me. Guilty! It was written all over your face.
GIBBS
This is ridiculous.
ROOTE
Yes, well, you’re not much good at it, are you? You’re pretty poor at it. I twigged it like that! (He clicks his fingers, laughs.) Didn’t I? You won’t get very far as a murderer, will he, Lush?
LUSH begins to stand, slowly.
Will you?
GIBBS
I resent this levity, sir.
ROOTE
Do you?
GIBBS
I resent it very strongly.
ROOTE
He resents it. (Going behind the desk with his drink.) Well, if he resents it he resents it. (Drinks.) You’re just too sensitive, that’s your trouble.
GIBBS (sitting)
A foul insinuation.
ROOTE
Oh, don’t be so touchy!
LUSH walks carefully to GIBBS.
LUSH
He was only having a little joke, Gibbs old man.
ROOTE
Of course I was.
GIBBS
I found it less than funny.
LUSH
He didn’t mean it. Honestly. Don’t be downhearted. Now give me the knife and we won’t say another word.
Sudden silence.
All still. GIBBS and LUSH stare at each other.
LUSH makes a tiny movement to his jacket.
Immediately GIBBS rises, with a knife in his hand.
LUSH faces him, a knife in his hand.
ROOTE seizes the bayonet from his desk, comes above them, covering them both, grinning.
Silence. All knives up.
Suddenly a long sigh is heard, amplified.
The knives go down.
A long keen is heard, amplified.
They look up.
A laugh is heard, amplified, dying away.
Silence.
LUSH
What was that?
ROOTE
I don’t know. What was it?
GIBBS
I don’t know.
Pause
ROOTE
I heard something, didn’t you?
LUSH
Yes, I did.
GIBBS
Yes, I heard something.
Pause
ROOTE
Well, what was it?
Pause
GIBBS
I don’t know.
LUSH
Nor do I.
Pause
ROOTE
Well, is there any way of finding out?
GIBBS
Something’s happening, sir. I don’t like it. There’s something going on … which I can’t quite define.
ROOTE
How odd you should say that. I was only saying the same before, wasn’t I, Lush? I was saying the same before. Just before you came in.
Pause
GIBBS
We’ll investigate. Come on, Lush.
LUSH
Go yourself.
ROOTE
Go with him.
LUSH
I don’t want to go with him.
ROOTE
Go with him! What’s the matter? Are you frightened of the dark?
LUSH (shyly)
No … well, you see, the fact is, Colonel, I’ve … I’ve got a present for you.
ROOTE
A present?
LUSH
A Christmas present.
ROOTE (suspiciously)
Oh yes? What sort of a present?
LUSH
Just a little something, sir, for Christmas.
He takes a cigar from his pocket and hands it to ROOTE.
This is it.
ROOTE
I say! That looks a fine one.
LUSH
Just a little token, sir.
ROOTE
Well, that’s a very nice thought, Lush my lad. I’m deeply gratified.
LUSH
I’m glad you like it, sir.
ROOTE (beaming)
Yes, very nice. I shall smoke it before I go to bed. Now off you go, about your business.
GIBBS
When would you like to see Lamb, sir?
ROOTE
Lamb?
GIBBS
The father, sir.
ROOTE
Oh, him. In the morning, son, in the morning. I can’t be bothered to bother with him now. Can I?
GIBBS
In the morning then. Thank you for the drink, sir.
LUSH
And the cake.
ROOTE
Goodnight, gentlemen.
GIBBS and LUSH go out.
ROOTE walks, with the cigar, to the sofa.
MISS CUTTS appears behind him from the bedroom door, watches him. She wears a nightdress.
ROOTE lights the cigar, puffs.
The cigar explodes.
MISS CUTTS rushes to him. ROOTE throws the cigar down, sees MISS CUTTS
CUTTS
Are you all right?
ROOTE stares at her.
What’s the matter with that cigar?
ROOTE
You remind me of someone.
CUTTS
In my new nightie? Who?
ROOTE
Where did you get that thing?
CUTTS
It’s a gift. Who do I remind you of?
ROOTE
Where did you get it?
CUTTS
From a friend. Do you like it? She just gave it to me. I had tea with her today. She’s a nursing mother. She doesn’t need it. She insisted I should have it. She’s so sweet, and she’s got such a bonny baby. I said to her, now we’re friends, I can’t go on calling you 6459, can I? What’s your name? Do you know, she wouldn’t tell me? Well, what does your lover call you? I said, what little nickname? She blushed to the roots of her hair. I must say I’m very curious. What could he have called her? She’s sweet, but she said the baby misses his Daddy. Babies do miss Daddy, you know. Archie, can’t the baby see his Daddy, just for a little while, just to say hello?
ROOTE (quietly)
No. Daddy will stay where he is.
CUTTS
Where is
he?
ROOTE
You’re supposed to be on nightshift.
CUTTS
Oh, it’s Christmas, I knocked off early.
ROOTE
You’re supposed to be working.
CUTTS
You’re not pleased to see me.
Pause. ROOTE sighs, looks at her.
ROOTE
Are you …
He sits on the sofa with her.
Are you … happy?
CUTTS
Happy? Of course I am.
ROOTE
Are you … are you happy with me?
CUTTS
Of course I’m happy. With you. When you’re not silly.
ROOTE
You’re really happy with me?
CUTTS
Not when you want me to go out into the cold with my nightie on.
ROOTE (taking her hand)
Don’t go out.
He caresses her hand. She regards him gravely.
CUTTS
You know, sometimes I think I’m not feminine enough for you.
ROOTE
You are, you are feminine enough for me.
CUTTS
Perhaps if I was more feminine you wouldn’t want me to go out in the cold.
ROOTE
I don’t want you to go out. I want you to stay.
CUTTS
Or perhaps … perhaps it’s because you think you’re not masculine enough.
ROOTE
I am!
CUTTS
Perhaps you’re not.
ROOTE
You can’t want me to be more masculine?
CUTTS (urgently)
It’s not what I want. It’s what you really think. It’s what you really deeply think and feel. It’s what you want, it’s what you truly are, can’t you see that, Archie? I mean, if you’re suddenly worried that you’re not masculine enough – I mean, that I’m not feminine enough and that you’re too feminine – well, it’s not going to work, is it?
ROOTE
Now, wait a minute, I never said anything –
CUTTS (intensely)
If I didn’t love you so much it wouldn’t matter. Do you remember the first time we met? On the beach? In the night? All those people? And the bonfire? And the waves? And the spray? And the mist? And the moon? Everyone dancing, somersaulting, laughing? And you – standing silent, staring at a sandcastle in your sheer white trunks. The moon was behind you, in front of you, all over you, suffusing you, consuming you, you were transparent, translucent, a beacon. I was struck dumb, dumbstruck. Water rose up my legs. I could not move. I was rigid. Immovable. Our eyes met. Love at first sight. I held your gaze. And in your eyes, bold and unashamed, was desire. Brutal, demanding desire. Bestial, ruthless, remorseless. I stood there magnetised, hypnotised. Transfixed. Motionless and still. A spider caught in a web.
Harold Pinter Plays 1 Page 21
