Alan Ayckbourn Plays 1

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Alan Ayckbourn Plays 1 Page 15

by Alan Ayckbourn


  Benedict I’m itching to go through those files, though. That’s where we’ll find him, Mr McCracken. Our man’s in there somewhere. He’s had access to all the information at the right time, in the right department. He’ll have left his thumb print somewhere.

  Jack I hope you’re right.

  Benedict However, what I have been able to do, in the meantime, is a little inquiring regarding the other end of the chain …

  Jack Donizetti?

  Benedict Precisely. It seemed to me, you see, that if we failed to catch our fly in your ointment at this end, we might be able to trace him back at the other. It’s a longer shot, but …

  Jack And?

  Benedict I’m getting warmer. Donizetti is a subsidiary of a company registered in Holland, W.K.P. Limited. W.K.P. is, in turn, owned by Lorelei International who are Spanish based but probably part Libyan, part Brazilian owned. Lorelei, in turn, are little more than an offshoot of a company based somewhere near Milan and trading under the name of Rivetti. That’s as far as I’ve got, so far.

  Jack (thoughtfully) Rivetti?

  Poppy We could sue them, couldn’t we? If we’re sure it’s them?

  Benedict Well, you could try.

  Jack (trying to remember) Rivetti …

  Benedict But from my experience of international law, that could take the rest of your life.

  Poppy Oh? Have you had experience of international law?

  Benedict Only indirectly.

  Poppy Oh.

  Jack (realizing) Rivetti!

  Poppy Jack?

  Jack What?

  Poppy Anything wrong?

  Jack What? No. Nothing at all. Well, thank you so much then, Mr Hough.

  He grabs the bewildered Benedict by the arm and starts to propel him towards the front door. Poppy follows, mystified.

  Benedict (startled) Oh, right …

  Poppy Jack, what are you …?

  Jack Good night, Mr Hough – Poppy, get his coat – You’ve been a great help. Thank you so much. I look forward to renewing our acquaintance on Monday.

  Benedict Yes, I don’t … I don’t … I don’t … I don’t quite see –

  Poppy (handing Jack the coat) Here you are.

  Jack Ta. Sorry to rush you away, Mr Hough. I’m expecting a phone call any minute.

  He thrusts Benedict and his coat through the front door.

  Benedict Yes, right-ho. Goodbye …

  Poppy Bye …

  Jack slams the front door and now gets his own coat out of the cupboard.

  Jack, what on earth are you …?

  Jack I’ve got to be wrong. Please God I’m wrong. Tell me I’m wrong …

  Poppy Where are you going now?

  Jack is halfway across the hall and entering the kitchen.

  Jack I’ll be back as soon as I can …

  Poppy Won’t you tell me where you’re going?

  Jack To see one of Mr Rivetti’s business associates …

  Jack goes out of the back door, leaving it open. Poppy follows him to close it, puzzled.

  Poppy Mr Rivetti …? Mr …? (realizing) Oh, my God, Mr Rivetti!

  Poppy changes her mind and hurries out after Jack, closing the back door behind her.

  Jack. Wait a minute. You’d better be sure.

  As the door closes, the lights change to indicate another location. The hall and landing lights are on but the rest of the house is in darkness. The doorbell rings insistently. After a moment, the far bedroom door opens and a figure appears on the landing jumping, trying to get into a rather tight pair of designer jeans. It is Giorgio Rivetti, the strikingly similar younger brother of Uberto whom we met earlier. Giorgio is 25, a freshfaced, attractive, rich young Italian. Like his brother, Uberto, he speaks little English. The doorbell rings again. Giorgio mutters agitatedly to himself. Another figure appears on the landing, naked except for a sheet wrapped round her. It is Anita. In her free hand she holds Giorgio’s discarded shirt. He snatches it from her.

  Giorgio Mio Dio, dovevamo andare in albergo.

  Anita It’s all right, Giorgio. It’s not my husband –

  Giorgio Te l’avevo detto che era meglio andare in albergo. Adesso tuo marito è tornato e mi spara.

  Anita – it can’t be. You’re quite safe. Cliff has got his own key. (with difficulty) Non è mio marito.

  Doorbell rings again. Giorgio yelps in panic.

  Look, for God’s sake, Giorgio, wait there while I get rid of them … Aspetta qui!

  Anita starts downstairs. Giorgio hovers on the landing, nervously.

  Giorgio Aspetta qui, già … Avremmo dovuto andare al Savoy.

  The doorbell rings again.

  Anita Wait!

  Anita reaches the front door, Giorgio goes back into the far bedroom and re-emerges on to the landing with his shoes and socks which he endeavours to put on while listening to what’s happening below.

  (talking through the front door) Who is that, please?

  Jack It’s Jack, Anita …

  Anita Oh hallo, Jack, how are you?

  Jack Let me in please.

  Anita Jack it’s not very convenient at the moment. I wonder if you could come back …

  Jack Anita, open this door or I’ll kick it in.

  Anita (doing so) Look, Cliff’s not here at the moment, Jack, he –

  Jack bursts in, pushing her aside.

  Careful!

  Jack Where is he? Where is that brother of mine?

  Anita I’ve said, he’s not here.

  Jack (moving first to the kitchen and switching on the lights) Cliff! (Seeing the room is empty, he crosses to the sitting room and does the same.) Cliff!

  Anita How many more times, he’s not here. He’s down the pub. I promise you, he is. He’s got some darts match.

  Jack Then call him and get him back here.

  Anita I can’t do that. It’s a match.

  Jack Unless you prefer me to go down there and bounce him round the snug on his head …

  Anita What’s he done?

  Jack Get him.

  Anita picks up the phone and dials.

  Anita I’ll dial him on his mobile, he always has it with him.

  Jack Well, he would do. He’s a busy lad, isn’t he?

  Anita I don’t know what he’s supposed to have done … (The phone connects.) Hallo, Cliff? It’s me … Listen, can you come back? No, now … No, I’m sorry but it’s urgent … No, I can’t explain on the phone, it –

  Jack (snatching the phone from her) Cliff, this is Jack. Now get back here, sunshine. (He hangs up.)

  Anita (slightly intrigued) I’ve never seen you like this before … You’re quite masterful, Jack. (She giggles.)

  Jack You haven’t seen the half of it yet. Wait till little brother arrives, I’ll –

  Giorgio, on the landing, having managed to put on his socks and one shoe, now drops the second with a clatter. He stands appalled.

  What was that?

  Anita What?

  Jack He’s here, isn’t he? He’s upstairs, (charging for the stairs) He’s not in the pub at all, he’s upstairs …

  Anita No, that’s not him …

  Jack thunders up the stairs. Giorgio, hearing this, dives for the near bedroom, looks round, panic-stricken, and decides, with certain unoriginality, to hide in the fitted wardrobe. He slides open the door and is all but engulfed in Anita’s numerous frocks that spring from their confined, undersized quarters.

  Giorgio Ah! (He fights his way in with difficulty.)

  Jack (reaching the landing) Cliff! I know you’re here!

  Anita (following him upstairs) Jack, he’s not up there, I swear he isn’t. Jack!

  Giorgio (during this) Oh, Madonna santissima, fa che non mi spari. Te ne prego, non lasciare che mi ammazzi.

  Unable to close the door, Giorgio crouches behind the dresses, muttering a prayer. Jack enters the bedroom and stops short as he hears this.

  Jack Who’s that in there? That’s not Cliff.

  Anita I tol
d you it wasn’t.

  Jack Who is it, then?

  Anita It’s Giorgio.

  Jack That Italian? The one I met the other night?

  Anita No, that was Uberto. This is his youngest brother, Giorgio.

  Jack How many of them are there?

  Anita Five.

  Jack Five?

  Anita Uberto, Vincenzo, Orlando, Lotario and Giorgio.

  Jack All called Rivetti?

  Anita Yes.

  Jack And you’re working your way through them all, are you?

  Anita Mind your own business …

  Jack This is very much my business, Anita. I have one or two urgent matters of my own to discuss with the Rivettis … (advancing on the cupboard) Oy, you! Out!

  A terrified scream from Giorgio.

  Anita Don’t frighten him, Jack, he’s only a kid. He hasn’t done any harm. He’s a good boy, he’s very religious …

  Jack Yes, I can see he is. Says his prayers regularly in married women’s wardrobes. Anita, does Cliff know this is going on?

  Anita May I get dressed, please, Jack?

  Jack Poor bastard. He doesn’t, does he? He’s down there playing his darts match and he hasn’t got a clue, has he?

  Anita Please let me get dressed, Jack.

  Jack What’s this doing to Cliff? What’s it done to him already? Ask yourself, Anita. What is this doing to yourself as a human being? Your husband’s due back any minute, you’ve got a 14-year-old Catholic Boy Scout in your cupboard and you don’t give a stuff, do you? You defy belief.

  Anita (wearily) Oh, God. Hold on a minute, Jack, I’ll go and put on some organ music.

  Jack I’m not a prude. If people want to bore themselves rigid with soft-porn movies or read newspapers full of tits, I don’t mind. I don’t want to interfere with that. But surely somewhere, Anita, there’s got to be a minimum level of decent human behaviour, hasn’t there? Beneath which none of us sink? Like not screwing around in your own marriage bed with men who are busy swindling your own family out of thousands of pounds? Something around that level, eh?

  Anita (calmly) Oh, I see. That’s what all this is about. Sorry, Jack, I was being a bit slow. My mind was still on other things.

  Cliff comes in the front door and closes it.

  Cliff (calling) Hallo?

  Anita (calling) We’re up here.

  Cliff (starting up the stairs) This had better be important. It was a vital match tonight … Semi-finals. If we beat the Young Farmers this evening, we meet the CID in the final … Oh hallo, Jack.

  Jack Evening.

  Cliff What’s the problem? (to Anita, without undue surprise) What are you doing?

  Anita Jack’s just been telling me that someone’s swindling the family out of thousands of pounds, Cliff. Do you know anything about that?

  Cliff No such luck. Hasn’t come my way. What are we talking about then, Jack?

  Jack We’re talking about furniture, Clifford. We’re talking about Ayres and Graces having their designs ripped off and reproduced elsewhere. We’re talking about them being resold under a fancy foreign label. Most important of all, we’re talking about my own brother organizing the whole bloody racket.

  Cliff Who, me?

  Jack Are you denying it?

  Cliff Jack, you know I wouldn’t do that. I’d never rip old Ken off like that. You know me …

  Jack You are lying to me, Clifford. I’ve known you since you were one day old, boy. Never lie to me.

  Jack advances. Cliff retreats.

  Cliff Now, hold on …

  Anita Jack, don’t hit him …

  Jack (loudly) I want the truth, son, the truth.

  Jack thumps the cupboard to make his point. A cry of fear from Giorgio inside. They stop.

  Cliff Who’s that then? Is that that Giorgio.

  Anita Yes.

  Jack (surprised) You know about him?

  Cliff What’s he doing in there? Trying on dresses?

  Anita He’s hiding from you. He’s frightened you’ll kill him.

  Cliff Me?

  Anita It’s all right. He’s seen too many foreign films.

  Cliff Stupid pillock. We’d better all go downstairs before he suffocates. Jack, I’m sure we can sort this out. Let’s go down. I’ve got a nice single malt down there, (to Anita) You going to join us, or what?

  Anita I’ll be down in a second. Wait till I’m there.

  Cliff leads Jack downstairs to the sitting room. Anita goes back along to the spare bedroom.

  Cliff (as they go) When I explain it, Jack, you’ll see. It’s not as bad you think, I promise.

  Jack (his mind still on the other matter) You mean to tell me you knew about Anita? And that boy?

  Cliff Yes, I knew.

  Jack And it doesn’t worry you?

  Cliff It’s a free country, Jack. She does what she likes, I do what I like.

  Jack You’re happy the way things are, then?

  Cliff You know me, Jack. I never expected much from life. Why should I expect to be happy, for God’s sake?

  Anita emerges from the far bedroom in a dressing gown. She comes downstairs, under the next.

  Jack Don’t you still love her at all?

  Cliff Jack, before you leave, have a look out there in the front drive. You’ll see a black Porsche 944S Coupé, brand new registration, personalized number plates. That I love. Just through there, I have over three thousand quids’ worth of sound gear and a couple of hundred compact discs. That I adore. Just outside Chichester I have a small sailing boat that I would willingly lay down my life for. I am even in love with my new liquid-crystal display digital wrist computer. But Anita? Who needs all that, Jack? I don’t. If I want pleasure, I can go for a drive, I can go for a sail, I can blow my head off listening to the Ninth Symphony, or I can even calculate the correct time in Vladivostock if I am that stuck for something to do. Women? Forget them. Quite frankly, I’d sooner play darts.

  Jack Well, it’s not for me to interfere, but I’d say you definitely have problems, Cliff.

  He breaks off as Anita comes into the sitting room. Her manner now is brisker, less coquettish.

  Anita What’s all this about, then?

  Cliff Look, get us all a malt, sweetheart, and I’ll try to explain things to Jack.

  Anita No. You get the drink. I’ll explain.

  Cliff hesitates.

  Go on.

  Cliff Fair enough. (He goes into the far sitting room.)

  Anita What was it you wanted to know?

  Jack You don’t deny you’re doing business with this Rivetti family?

  Anita No. We don’t deny that.

  Jack By helping them to manufacture and sell exact copies of our furniture under their own label?

  Anita No. Any furniture we sell, or rather any furniture we resell to the Rivettis and they then resell, that all comes straight from your factory and is delivered to us in your lorries, driven by your drivers.

  Jack Just a minute. Are you saying you are reselling our actual furniture …

  Anita Yes. We’re buying it quite legitimately. And then we’re reselling it. What’s wrong with that?

  Jack Selling it under another label?

  Anita No.

  Jack You know you bloody well are.

  Anita When it leaves us, it hasn’t got any label on at all.

  Jack But it has when it arrives from our factory.

  Anita No, it hasn’t.

  Jack How the hell are you buying goods from our factory without a name on?

  Anita I don’t know. You’d better ask your factory that, hadn’t you? We’re doing nothing illegal.

  Cliff returns with a bottle of malt whisky on a tray with three glasses.

  Jack Well, somebody’s selling off our furniture via the back door. Presumably at give-away prices?

  Anita I don’t know.

  Jack And who relabels it, then?

  Anita I don’t know.

  Jack Presumably the Rivettis?

  Anita I
don’t know.

  Jack (losing patience) Now, look …

  Cliff (pleased at how Anita is handling this) All we know is, Jack –

  Anita (cutting him off) We don’t know anything, Cliff. Nothing.

  Silence.

  Cheers!

  Jack (not drinking) Well, we’ll get one thing straight. This is only the start. I shall follow this right the way through. I shall turn that factory of ours upside down till I find who’s responsible for selling us short and, when I’ve sorted them out, I shall settle the brothers Rivetti, right? There will be no cupboard on this planet big enough to hide them. And if you two happen to be in the line of fire, then all I can say is, God help you.

  Cliff (nervously) You wouldn’t do that to us, Jack.

  Anita He would.

  Jack And it’s not only me you’ve to deal with. Starting Monday, there will be this voracious little ferret in our midst, diving down rabbit holes, flushing out the black sheep left, right and centre. And I warn you, he’s an unstoppable little bastard.

  Anita That’ll be Mr Hough?

  Jack (startled) How did you know that?

  Anita I go shopping with your wife, Jack. We’re friends. I help her choose her clothes. Greater trust hath no woman …

  Jack (disconcerted) Well. That’s as may be.

  Anita She also told me how you came by him, your Mr Hough. It sounds a bit underhand, Jack. Not like you at all. I mean, I’m sure people would be amazed if they heard …

  Jack Oh. Oh, now. Don’t you try that. Oh. Oh. Oh. Don’t think you can try that. Not with me. You won’t find me yielding to that sort of blackmail ever, I can tell you. (Pause.) Hardly ever. If at all. (Pause.) Very, very, very rarely indeed.

  Anita Excuse me. I’m getting rather chilly. Switch off when you’ve finished, Cliff, won’t you?

  Cliff Right you are.

  Anita goes upstairs.

  (smiling rather nervously, now he is alone with Jack) Bit of a stalemate then, eh?

  Jack Who is it selling you our stuff, Cliff?

  Cliff I don’t know.

  Jack No, don’t you try that. You’re not as clever at it as she is. Now who? Who’s behind it all? There’s got to be one person, somewhere, hasn’t there, fairly high up? Who?

 

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