by Muriel Spark
CATHERINE. He would be far more worried if you left.
ANNIE. He would think you weren’t going to leave your money to Daphne.
DAPHNE. That’s unfair to my father, Annie.
LEONORA. It isn’t unflattering to him as a father.
CATHERINE. We would feel terribly guilty if you left just now, Leonora. — As if we’d failed you after all these years.
ANNIE (goes through French windows). It’s going to be marvellous on the canal this afternoon.
CATHERINE. Daphne, why don’t you go out on the boat with Annie? You look moony.
DAPHNE. No, I couldn’t possibly. I feel sick. Besides, I’ve nothing suitable to wear in a boat with Annie. (Exit.)
LEONORA follows ANNIE on to terrace.
Light fades on CATHERINE.
Light up on ANNIE and LEONORA on terrace obliquely facing canal.
ANNIE. I think you came through that ordeal magnificently.
LEONORA. Yes, I saved a certain amount of face.
ANNIE. It was quite a drama, Leonora.
LEONORA. Saving face is essentially a dramatic instinct for those who insist on playing heroic parts.
ANNIE. But you are a heroine. They were quite unprepared for you. So was I, of course, but then I’m always prepared for things I’m unprepared for. Whatever will you do next?
LEONORA. It will have to be something suitably dramatic, won’t it?
ANNIE. Let me see. You mustn’t, of course, go near a psychiatrist, unless you were thinking of eloping with him. But they aren’t satisfactory. One can’t lean on them when it comes to the leaning point. In my experience —well, I say no more, but take it from me they aren’t any good. You couldn’t elope with Charlie, I suppose?
LEONORA. Charlie hasn’t proved responsive to my overtures, Annie.
ANNIE. I quite agree. There is no chivalrous spirit in Charlie. What about eloping with Daphne’s boy friend? He doted on you, obviously, at first sight, although of course he said little.
LEONORA. Young Charlie had better stick to Daphne. She’s pregnant.
ANNIE. She isn’t!
LEONORA. She is.
ANNIE. How thrilling! Who told you?
LEONORA. The symptoms told me.
ANNIE. Do they know?
LEONORA. Not yet.
ANNIE. I never thought young Charlie had it in him. I suppose he is the man?
LEONORA. I think so. The symptoms tell me he is.
ANNIE. Well, you certainly can’t elope with him.
LEONORA. I had better disappear.
ANNIE. It wouldn’t be dramatic enough. They wouldn’t know what had happened to you, and it would all be a worry and a mess.
LEONORA. I have thought of a dramatic way. Imagine Catherine, Charlie and Daphne sitting out here on the terrace after dinner. (Pointing to chairs.) Catherine, Charlie, Daphne. It’s just gone nine, not quite dark yet. Mrs. S. has gone home. They are discussing what to do about Leonora. Daphne says Leonora must see a psychiatrist. Catherine says yes, but how can we make her see that? Charlie says, the woman is going through the menopause, it’s obvious. Catherine says yes, but what do we do about it — Can you envisage the scene, Annie?
ANNIE. Yes, and Daphne keeps saying a psychiatrist.
LEONORA. The girl has to say things like that at a time like this. — Well, while they are all discussing Leonora and her future prospects, a small group of people has gathered down there on the bank of the canal. They have pulled in a body from the water and are attempting to revive it. They are unsuccessful. One of the group recognises the body and points to this house. It is carried up the steps and laid at the feet of Catherine, Charlie and Daphne, who are still discussing what to do about Leonora. — It is then that they stop discussing Leonora and her future.
ANNIE. It’s thrilling! It makes me run hot and cold. But I wouldn’t stage that one if I were you, Leonora, because you wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. I mean, what’s the use of having a dramatic sense if you go and get drowned just before the climax?
LEONORA. I’ve thought of that.
ANNIE. But it’s a brilliant idea to stage your climax out here on the terrace. It’s a perfect setting, and you needn’t get wet if it rains. Stick to bricks and mortar, Leonora, they are much safer than the canal.
LEONORA. Are they?
ANNIE. Oh, much.
LEONORA. Look. (Takes hold of a tall pillar. It moves.) It doesn’t look very safe to me.
ANNIE. Leonora, what are you doing?
LEONORA (shaking the terrace wall). It blows all your theories to hell, doesn’t it?
ANNIE. It’s thrilling! It gives me a horrible feeling. Do it again, Leonora.
LEONORA (shaking pillar). I blow all your theories to hell and you tell me it’s thrilling.
ANNIE. I think it’s a brilliant discovery of yours, Leonora.
LEONORA. Some people have known it all their lives. The scenery is unreliable, Annie. Some people know that by instinct, they take it for granted.
Enter MRS. S.
MRS. S. Annie there? The boat’s ready, Charlie says. He’ll give you a shove off.
ANNIE. I’m coming right away.
MRS. S. Daphne’s expecting. Craving for cucumbers. Vomiting 6 a.m.
Puts straight a bit of the set which LEONORA has displaced.
ANNIE. Do they know?
MRS. S. Certainly not. They are deep thinkers, my dear, not common detectives. Doctors of philosophy, not medicine. Must a happened at Oxford.
Fade and lights up on terrace at dusk. CATHERINE, DAPHNE, CHARLIE, wko sit squarely facing the audience.
DAPHNE. I don’t see why she can’t be forced to go to a psychiatrist.
CHARLIE. An audience, she says, eyes upon her. The next thing, she’ll be saying we’re on the stage.
DAPHNE. I mean, if one needed to consult an ordinary doctor, one would be obliged to consult an ordinary doctor. I don’t see why Leonora should get away with it just because her trouble is mental.
CATHERINE. I think a nursing home would be the all-round answer, Daphne.
DAPHNE. What did you say?
CATHERINE. Somewhere peaceful with a private room. Leonora needs a rest.
CHARLIE. There’s something going on down on the bank. See the crowd. Someone’s fallen in the water. (Stands up to look.)
DAPHNE and CATHERINE stand up to look.
CATHERINE. Go and see who it is, Charlie.
DAPHNE. Oh. I feel sick.
LEONORA appears from the French windows behind them.
LEONORA. What’s going on down there?
CATHERINE Oh!
DAPHNE Oh! Leonora. I wish you wouldn’t creep up behind people.
LEONORA. There’s been something going on down on the canal for the past five minutes. I saw it from my window. I think someone must have fallen in. I’m going down. (She runs down the steps towards the canal.)
CATHERINE. One isn’t much use in a crowd, or I’d—
CHARLIE. There’s a chap carrying somebody.
CATHERINE. He’s coming over here. Look!
CHARLIE goes down the steps.
Enter CHARLIE BROWN, dripping wet, carrying ANNIE, dripping wet, followed by LEONORA and CHARLIE.
ANNIE. My boat capsized. I was rescued by Charlie Brown. Isn’t he a hero? He just dived in and fished me out. What a crowd I drew! It’s just as well I was suitably dressed.
CHARLIE BROWN sets her down.
CATHERINE. Come and get dry immediately, Annie.
CHARLIE. Come indoors, both of you. I can’t afford a scandal.
ANNIE. The water’s extremely wet to night, Leonora.
CURTAIN
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
SCENE I
THE SAME ROOM.
CHARLIE. She’ll have to leave home immediately.
CATHERINE. Charlie, how can I think of the practical side of things if you only talk?
CHARLIE. It’s my duty to talk. I can’t afford to feed anothe
r mouth. The house is full of mouths to feed. She’ll have to leave immediately.
CATHERINE. The baby will not be born immediately.
CHARLIE. Well, she’ll soon be eating for two.
CATHERINE. She’s eating cucumber salad almost exclusively.
CHARLIE. I can’t afford to provide special diets.
CATHERINE. Take a drink if you can’t face the facts.
CHARLIE. I can’t afford a drink. I’ve wasted a fortune on the girl’s education and she’s gone and spent it on fornication and cucumbers. She’ll have to pack her bags and—
CATHERINE. She’s got nowhere to go. Shut up, Charlie.
CHARLIE (pouring himself a drink). She’ll have to go to a home for fallen women. I’m not going to have any infants in this house at my age. Nappies on the line. I’ve had quite enough of your relations, Catherine, and I don’t want any more in the house.
CATHERINE. She’s arranging to get married as soon as possible, she says. In fact that’s all I could get out of her.
CHARLIE. She can’t have a wedding out of my pocket, if that’s what she means. If she wants a wedding, let him pay for the wedding.
CATHERINE. You didn’t pay for our wedding.
CHARLIE. I wasn’t to blame for our wedding. He’s got himself to blame for his. Sorry — my salary doesn’t run to champagne. They’d better get married quietly. Hush it up. (Pours himself another drink.) And I paid for our honeymoon, don’t forget that. I was well out of pocket over the honeymoon.
CATHERINE. Could you afford to give me a gin and lime?
CHARLIE. It’s a bit early to start. (Pours gin and lime for CATHERINE.) Do you mean to tell me she actually wants to marry that fellow?
CATHERINE. Well, she’ll have to.
CHARLIE. What do you mean, ‘she’ll have to’. You can’t force an innocent young girl to marry a man not of her own choice just because she was taken in by his clever slick talk. I know that sort of swine, I’ve seen them at work, my dear woman, believe it or not.
CATHERINE. She could have an operation.
CHARLIE. If she has any illegal operations, out of my house she goes. It might kill her. I can’t afford to have police enquiries. Out she goes with her abortions and expensive funerals. If you would only keep calm about this, Catherine, you wouldn’t panic. You wouldn’t be advocating suicidal solutions like abortions and marriage. After all, she’s your daughter.
CATHERINE. I advocate nothing. It’s her business. I think she’s very fortunate in the circumstances. Very lucky indeed.
Enter MRS. S. with tray of coffee. CHARLIE. Poor Daphne.
CATHERINE. I say poor Charlie, I’m rather sorry for poor young Charlie.
MRS. S. ‘Phone message for Daphne. They want the machine back.
CHARLIE. Sorry for him? Sorry for him? MRS. S. It’s gone from the broom cupboard again. Walked.
CATHERINE. It’s over there by the window. Yes, I’m sorry for him.
MRS. S. (picks up tape recorder). Hope it isn’t too heavy for her to carry. (Moves it up and down.)
CHARLIE. I’ve never heard of anything so unnatural. You are sorry for your daughter’s seducer.
MRS. S. (sets tape recorder on table). Drink your coffee. Fancy starting on the bottle before eleven just because Daphne’s failed in her Ph.D. How does it work?
CHARLIE. She may still take her degree.
CATHERINE. Oh no, Charlie. Oh no, Charlie. Mrs. S., I wouldn’t play about with it in case it breaks.
CHARLIE. Oh yes, Catherine. Arrangements could be made for her to continue her studies. Mrs. S., if you break it, I can’t afford
MRS. S. switches on machine.
LEONORA’S VOICE. Charlie, give me a child, I want a child.
CHARLIE. Turn it off.
CHARLIE’S VOICE. Leonora—
MRS. S. switches it off.
MRS. S. You better remove the traces, Charlie, or it might reach the ears of an unseen audience. Shocking. (Goes out.)
CHARLIE (fiddling with machine). How do you remove the tape?
LEONORA’S VOICE. Charlie, give me a child, I want a child.
CHARLIE switches it off.
CATHERINE. Oh, I can’t stand it. Charlie, I want Leonora to leave this house.
CHARLIE. Why?
CATHERINE. We have enough mouths to feed.
LEONORA’S VOICE. Charlie, give me a chi— (Switched off.)
CATHERINE. Charlie, stop it!
CHARLIE. I’m trying to remove the tape. If I hadn’t thought of it you would have let it go back to its owner with this incriminating tape inside it.
Enter ANNIE dressed ‘‘for lunch at the Ritz”.
ANNIE. I am lunching at the Ritz, if you must know.
CATHERINE. I haven’t asked you where you’re going, Annie.
ANNIE. You spoke with your eyes, Catherine. You said ‘Where the hell do you think you’re going?’
CHARLIE. Who is taking you to lunch?
ANNIE. I am taking young Charlie to lunch.
CHARLIE. Young Charlie has suddenly become the focus of flattering attention in this household. He rapes my daughter and you take him to the Ritz.
LEONORA’S VOICE. … child, I want a child.
CATHERINE. Oh stop it, Charlie!
ANNIE. My dear, men are so extremely sentimental about their virile attractions. You must realise it isn’t every day that a handsome woman like Leonora makes a suggestion of that type. Naturally, Charlie wants to play it over and over again, it’s only natural.
CATHERINE. Leonora is not as handsome as she used to be.
CHARLIE. I want to get this tape out of the machine and burn it, actually.
ANNIE. That’s what they do with our love letters, I’m convinced of it. They read them over and over again, then, in despair, they burn them. Once a man starts burning your communications to him, you may be sure he’s beside himself.
CATHERINE. Leonora is to leave this house.
ANNIE. That’s quite the wrong way to handle the situation, Catherine. In my opinion the wife should always befriend the other woman in the case.
CHARLIE. I have the impression that Leonora would like to leave us but … I think she would really like to go, but …
ANNIE. But she can’t tear herself away from you, Charlie darling.
CATHERINE. Leonora is a witch. She has had an insidious influence on us during the past three weeks. Look what’s happened to Daphne.
CHARLIE. Daphne is more than three weeks pregnant.
ANNIE. Yes, Charlie, but Catherine only discovered it yesterday. Be fair. I’m not taking sides, I only say fair’s fair. Don’t forget my boat unaccountably capsized on the canal yesterday. Catherine is bound to suspect witchcraft. After all, Catherine isn’t a rational sober scholar like you, Charlie.
CATHERINE. There is nothing irrational in what I say. One, Leonora was apparently off her head three weeks ago. Two, now she is apparently recovered. Three, I don’t believe she could be cured in that time by natural means. Four—
ANNIE. Why are you counting on your fingers?
CHARLIE. She wants to prove that she has a scholarly mind.
CATHERINE. Four, since it is extremely unlikely that she could have recovered from a serious mental lapse within three weeks by natural means one must look for supernatural means. Hence, it is not entirely unreasonable to suppose that Leonora has been dabbling in witchcraft.
CHARLIE. Shut up.
CATHERINE. Women who practised the black arts in the Middle Ages frequently lost their senses for brief periods and made obscene suggestions.
CHARLIE. It wasn’t an obscene suggestion. Leonora only wanted to sleep with me, that’s all. A perfectly healthy and natural instinct.
CATHERINE. No, Charlie, no. She didn’t say that, she said, ‘Give me a child, I want a—’
CHARLIE. I really must get the tape out of this machine. Annie, do you know how it works?
CATHERINE. I shall ask Leonora to leave.
CHARLIE. Shut up.
ANNIE. Don’t ask me to touch machines when I’ve just got my nails beautifully lacquered for young Charlie. Everything must be perfect for Charlie’s Ritzy lunch. It’s his first and it might be the last. Do you want me to sound young Charlie on what he’s prepared to accept in final settlement?
CHARLIE. Settlement of what?
ANNIE. The marriage.
CHARLIE. Tell him I’ll have him in court for paternity.
LEONORA’S VOICE. … a child …
ANNIE goes out.
CHARLIE. Daphne will have to come and fix this. I’ve made a mess of it. (Shouts.) Daphne!
CATHERINE. You said that Leonora was putting on an act.
CHARLIE. I didn’t mean it.
CATHERINE. It’s a strange admission for a prospective professor of economics to say that he said what he didn’t mean.
CHARLIE. I was not on the lecture platform. One is entitled to say what one doesn’t mean in one’s own home. (Shouts.) Daphne!
Enter MRS. S.
MRS. S. She’s upstairs with her stomach. Are young Charlie’s ma and pa Ph.D.’s?
CATHERINE. No, they’re not.
MRS. S. Are they academics of any variety?
CATHERINE. No, they’re in cement.
MRS. S. Well, that’s one good thing. It’ll improve the stock, if you know your eugenics, not to mention ethnology.
Enter DAPHNE.
DAPHNE. What do you think you’re doing? You’ve unwound it wrong.
CHARLIE. Well, do something, don’t just—
DAPHNE (as she rushes out, sick). Oh, I’m dying. MRS. S. You should mind how you speak to Daphne in her condition. What time they coming tonight?
CATHERINE. Seven-thirty for eight.
CHARLIE. Who’s coming?
CATHERINE. The Westons are coming to dinner.
MRS. S. Chicken Maryland. Cucumber salad. Daphne won’t keep it down. She can’t keep down the medicine. Hark at her up there. (Goes out.)
CHARLIE. Who are the Westons?
CATHERINE. Young Charlie’s parents. We are to discuss the young couple’s future.
CHARLIE. I can’t afford to discuss the young couple’s future. I can’t afford to discuss my own future. The future doesn’t bear thinking of. The whole world is on the verge of starvation if the population increases at its present rate, and you ask me to discuss the future.
