Brian Friel Plays 1 (23 page)

JUDGE
:
And the presence of this deposit is conclusive evidence of firing?

WINBOURNE
:
I’m a scientist, my lord. I don’t know what constitutes conclusive evidence.

JUDGE
:
What I mean is, if these lead particles are found on a person, does that mean that that person has fired a gun?

WINBOURNE
:
He may have, my lord. Or he may have been contaminated by being within thirty feet of someone who has fired in his direction. Or he may have been beside someone who has fired. Or he may have been touched or handled by someone who has just fired.

JUDGE
:
I see. And these distinctions are of the utmost importance because on this point we must be scrupulously meticulous. Thank you, Dr Winbourne, for explaining them so succinctly. So that, if we are to decide whether lead on a person’s hand or clothing should be attributed to his having fired a weapon, we must be guided by the pattern of deposit. Is that correct?

WINBOURNE
:
Yes, my lord.

JUDGE
:
And now, if I may return to your report – your findings on the three deceased.

WINBOURNE
:
In the case of Fitzgerald – it’s on page four, my lord.

JUDGE
:
I have it, thank you.

WINBOURNE
:
In the case of Fitzgerald, a smear on the left hand and on the left shirt sleeve. In the case of the woman Doherty, smear marks on the right cheek and shoulder. In the case of Hegarty an even deposit on the back of the left hand and between the thumb and forefinger.

JUDGE
:
A patterned deposit?

WINBOURNE
:
An even deposit, my lord.

JUDGE
:
So Hegarty certainly did fire a weapon?

WINBOURNE
:
Let me put it this way, my lord: I don’t see how he could have had these regular deposits unless he did.

JUDGE
:
And Fitzgerald and the woman Doherty?

WINBOURNE
:
They could have been smeared by Hegarty or they could have been contaminated while they were being carried away by the soldiers who shot them.

JUDGE
:
Or by firing themselves.

WINBOURNE
:
That’s possible.

JUDGE
:
But you are certain that Hegarty at least fired?

WINBOURNE
:
That’s what the tests indicate.

JUDGE
:
And you are personally convinced he did?

WINBOURNE
:
Yes, I think he did, my lord.

JUDGE
:
Thank you, Dr Winbourne.

(
The
JUDGE
disappears,
WINBOURNE
goes
off.
)

MICHAEL
:
There’s three more tanks coming. And they seem to be putting up searchlights or something.

SKINNER
:
Are you asleep, Lily?

LILY
:
D’you know what I heard a man saying on the telly one night? D’you see them fellas that go up into outer space? Well, they don’t get old up there the way we get old down here. Whatever way the clocks work there, we age ten times as quick as they do.

SKINNER
:
You’re a real mine of information, Lily.

LILY
:
So that if I went up there and stayed up there long enough and then come down again, God I could end up the same age as Mark Antony!

SKINNER
:
No matter how long you’d stay up there, your family’d still be waiting for their tea.

LILY
:
I’d give anything to see the chairman’s face if that happened.

SKINNER
:
Lily.

LILY
:
What?

SKINNER
:
Why don’t you ring somebody?

LILY
:
Who?

SKINNER
:
Anybody.

LILY
:
That young fella’s out of his mind! Why in God’s name would I ring somebody?

SKINNER
:
To wish them a happy Christmas. To use the facilities of the hotel. Just for the hell of it. Anyone in the street got a phone?

LILY
:
Surely, We all have phones in every room. Haaaa!

SKINNER
:
Where do you get your groceries?

LILY
:
Billy Broderick.

SKINNER
:
Ring him.

LILY
:
Sure he’s across the road from me.

SKINNER
:
Tell him you’re out of tea.

LILY
:
Have you no head, young fella? He’d think I couldn’t face him just because I owe him fifteen pounds.

SKINNER
:
You must know someone with a phone.

LILY
:
Dr Sweeney!

SKINNER
:
No doubt. Anyone working in a shop – a factory?

LILY
:
No.

SKINNER
:
A garage – a café – an office – an –

LILY
:
Beejew Betty.

SKINNER
:
Who?

LILY
:
Betty Breen. She’s a cousin of the chairman. She’s in the cash desk of the Beejew Cinema. We call her Beejew Betty.

(
SKINNER
looks
up
the
telephone
directory.
MICHAEL
turns
upstage.
)

LILY
:
She used to let our wanes into the Saturday matinée for nothing. And then one Saturday our Tom – d’you see our Tom? Sixteen next October 23 and afeard of no man nor beast – he went up to her after the picture and told her it was the most stupidest picture he ever seen. And d’you know what? She took it personal. Niver let them in for free again. A real snob, Betty.

SKINNER
:
(
Dials
) 7479336.

LILY
:
What are you at? Sure I seen her last Sunday week at the granny’s.

(
SKINNER
hands
her
the
phone.
)

LILY
:
What will I say? What in the name of God will I say to –?

(
Her
accent
and
manner
become
suddenly
stilted.
)

LILY
:
Hello? Is that Miss Betty Breen? This is Mrs Elizabeth Doherty speaking. Yes – yes – Lily. How are you keeping since we last met, Betty? No, no, he’s fine, thank you, fine – the chest apart. No, I’m in good health, too, Betty, thank you. It just happened that I chanced to be with some companions near a telephone and your name come up in casual conversation, and I thought I’d say How-do-do. Yes. Yes. Well, Betty, I’ll not detain you any longer, Betty. I’m sure you’re busy with finance. Good-bye. No, the kiosk’s still broken. I’m ringing from the Mayor’s parlour. (
She
suddenly
bangs
down
the
receiver
and
covers
her
face
with
her
hands.
)

LILY
:
Jesus, young fella, I think she passed out! Oooooops!

SKINNER
:
That’s a great start. Who else is there?

LILY
:
Give us a second to settle myself, will you? I’m not worth tuppence. Look at my hands. (
The
bottle
stutters
against
the
glass
as
she
pours
herself
a
drink
.) Didn’t I tell you?

SKINNER
:
I love your posh accent, Lily.

LILY
:
Hold your tongue. Lily’s no yokel. Wait till I tell you: one time when the chairman was in the TB hospital I rung him up to tell him that Gloria had fell off the roof – that was
eighteen months ago, she was four and a half then – and the ward sister I spoke to asked the chairman who the swank was he was married to!

MICHAEL
:
I want the two of you to know I object to this
carry-o
n
.

LILY
:
Sure it’s only a bit of innocent fun, young fella. Have you no give in you at all? (
Examines
bottle
.) What d’you call this port wine?

SKINNER
:
It’s sherry.

LILY
:
I’m going to get a bottle of it next Christmas.

SKINNER
:
Who else do you know, Lily? Any friends? Relatives?

MICHAEL
:
You’re behaving exactly as they think we behave.

LILY
:
As who thinks?

SKINNER
:
Have you any uncles? Any brothers? Any sisters?

LILY
:
I have one sister – Eileen.

SKINNER
:
Is she on the phone?

LILY
:
She is.

SKINNER
:
Eileen what? What’s her second name?

MICHAEL
:
No wonder they don’t trust us. We’re not worthy of trust.

LILY
:
You’ll not get her in that book.

SKINNER
:
From the operator, then.

LILY
:
No, I’m not going to ring Eileen. She’d think something terrible had happened.

MICHAEL
:
And even if you have no sense of decency, at least you should know that that’s stealing unless you’re going to leave the money.

LILY
:
Lookat, young fella: I don’t need you nor nobody else to tell me what’s right and what’s wrong. (
To
SKINNER
) Give me that.

(
SKINNER
hands
her
the
phone.
)

LILY
:
How do you get the operator?

SKINNER
:
Dial 100 and give your number.

LILY
:
I didn’t say I wasn’t going to leave the money, did I? I’m as well acquainted with my morals as the next. (
Into
phone
) Operator, this is 7643225, Derry City, Northern Ireland. I wish to make a call to Mrs Eileen O’Donnell, 275 Riverway Drive … She’s getting me inquiries. If you don’t mind,
I’ll take my glass. Thank you. Inquiries? This is 7643225, Derry City, Northern Ireland. I wish to make a call to Mrs Eileen O’Donnell, 275 Riverway Drive – yes – Riverway –
Riverway
– (
The
accent
is
dropped.
)
God, are you deaf, wee girl? Riverway Drive, Brisbane, Australia. (
She
hangs
up.
) She’ll call me back.

(
SKINNER
laughs
and
slaps
the
table
with
delight.
)

SKINNER
:
Lily, you’re wonderful! The chairman’s married to a queen. Does he deserve you?

(
BRIGADIER
JOHNSON
-
HANSBURY
enters
right.
He
speaks
through
a
loudhailer.
He
is
guarded
by
three
armed
SOLDIERS
.)

BRIGADIER
:
Attention, please! Attention!

MICHAEL
:
Listen!

LILY
:
And when I get my breath back, I might even give a tinkle to cousin William in the Philippines.

MICHAEL
:
Shut up! Listen! Listen!

BRIGADIER
:
This is Brigadier Johnson-Hansbury. We know exactly where you are and we know that you are armed. I advise you to surrender now before there is loss of life. So lay down your arms and proceed to the front entrance with your hands above your head. Repeat – proceed to the front entrance with your hands above your head. The Guildhall is completely surrounded. I urge you to follow this advice before there is loss of life.

(
The
BRIGADIER
goes
off.
The
SOLDIERS
follow
him.
Silence,
LILY
gets
to
her
feet.
SKINNER
gets
to
his
feet.
Pause.)

LILY
:
Arms? What’s he blathering about?

SKINNER
:
His accent’s almost as posh as yours, Lily.

(
Pause.
)

MICHAEL
:
Some bastard must have done something to rattle them – shouted something, thrown a stone, burned something – some bloody hooligan! Someone like you, Skinner! For it’s bastards like you, bloody vandals, that’s keeping us all on our bloody knees!

BALLADEER
:
In Guildhall Square one sunny evening three Derry volunteers were shot.

Two were but lads and one a mother; the Saxon bullet was their lot.

They took a stand against oppression, they wanted Mother Ireland free.

Their blood now stains the Guildhall pavements; a cross stands there for all to see.

We’ll not forget that sunny evening, nor the names of those bold three

Who gave their lives for their ideal – Mother Ireland, one and free.

They join the lines of long-gone heroes, England’s victims, one and all.

We have their memory still to guide us; we have their courage to recall.

(
The
BALLADEER
goes off. Th
e
JUDGE
appears in the battlements
.)

JUDGE
:
The weight of evidence presented over the past few days seems to be directing the current of this inquiry into two distinct areas. The first has to do with what at first sight might appear to be mere speculation, but it could be a very important element, I suggest, in any understanding of the entire canvas of that Saturday – and I refer to the purpose
the three had in using the Guildhall, the municipal nerve-centre of Londonderry, as their platform of defiance. And the second area – more sensible to corroboration or rebuttal, one would think – concerns the arms the deceased were alleged to have used against the army. And I suggest, also, that these two areas could well be different aspects of the same question. Why the Guildhall? Counsel for the deceased pleads persuasively that in the melée following the public meeting the three in their terror sought the nearest possible cover and that cover happened to be the Guildhall – a fortuitous choice. This may be. But I find it difficult to accept that of all the buildings adjacent to them they happened to choose the one building which symbolized for them a system of government they opposed and were in fact at that time illegally demonstrating against. And if the choice was fortuitous, why was the building defaced? Why were its furnishings despoiled? Why were its records defiled? Would they have defaced a private house in the same way? I think the answers to these questions point to one conclusion: that the deceased deliberately chose this building; that their purpose and intent was precise and deliberate. In other words that their action was a carefully contrived act of defiance against, and an incitement to others to defy, the legitimate forces of law and order. No other conclusion is consistent with the facts.

(
When
MICHAEL
,
LILY
and
SKINNER
speak, they speak calmly, without emotion, in neutral accents
.)

MICHAEL
:
We came out the front door as we had been ordered and stood on the top step with our hands above our heads. They beamed searchlights on our faces but I could see their outlines as they crouched beside their tanks. I even heard the click of their rifle-bolts. But there was no question of their shooting. I knew they weren’t going to shoot. Shooting belonged to a totally different order of things. And then the Guildhall Square exploded and I knew a terrible mistake had been made. And I became very agitated, not because I was dying, but that this terrible mistake be recognized and acknowledged. My mouth kept
trying to form the word mistake – mistake – mistake. And that is how I died – in disbelief, in astonishment, in shock. It was a foolish way for a man to die.

LILY
:
The moment we stepped outside the front door I knew I was going to die, instinctively, the way an animal knows. Jesus, they’re going to murder me. A second of panic – no more. Because it was succeeded, overtaken, overwhelmed by a tidal wave of regret, not for myself nor my family, but that life had somehow eluded me. And now it was finished; it had all seeped away; and I had never experienced it. And in the silence before my body disintegrated in a purple convulsion, I thought I glimpsed a tiny truth: that life had eluded me because never once in my forty-three years had an experience, an event, even a small unimportant happening been isolated, and assessed, and articulated. And the fact that this, my last experience, was defined by this perception, this was the culmination of sorrow. In a way I died of grief.

SKINNER
:
A short time after I realized we were in the Mayor’s parlour I knew that a price would be exacted. And when they ordered us a second time to lay down our arms I began to suspect what that price would be because they leave nothing to chance and because the poor are always overcharged. And as we stood on the Guildhall steps, two thoughts raced through my mind: how seriously they took us and how unpardonably casual we were about them; and that to match their seriousness would demand a total dedication, a solemnity as formal as theirs. And then everything melted and fused in a great roaring heat. And my last thought was: if you’re going to decide to take them on, Adrian Casimir, you’ve got to mend your ways. So I died, as I lived, in defensive flippancy.

JUDGE
:
We now come to the second area – were the deceased armed? Their counsel insists they were not. The security forces insist they were. If they opened fire at the army, their counsel asks with good reason, why were there no military casualties, and even more pertinently, what became of their weapons? To this the army replies that the guns were taken
away by the mob which had gathered. Counsel for the deceased strongly denies this. They say that no civilians were allowed into the Guildhall Square until one hour after the shooting. The security forces say this is untrue, and point – for example – to the priest and the newsman who were right beside the deceased within five minutes of the shooting. So, in view of this welter of confusion, I wish to recall the pathologist, Professor Cuppley, tomorrow morning.

(
The
JUDGE
disappears
.
MICHAEL
,
LILY
and
SKINNER
step briskly back into the parlour
.
MICHAEL
goes straight into the dressing-room
,
SKINNER
fills his empty cigarette packet from the silver box on the table
.
LILY
moves about the parlour with an air of business
–
fixing chairs, emptying ashtrays. She switches on the light
.)

LILY
:
That’s better. I’m a great wan for light. The cold I don’t mine but I don’t like the dark.

(
She takes off her robe and examines it.
)

LILY
:
I’ll tell you something, Skinner: it’s a shocking sin having them lovely things lying idle in a wardrobe and them as fresh as the day they were bought. Lookat – not an elbow out of them nor nothing.

SKINNER
:
It has the shoulders scratched off me.

LILY
:
What are you wearing it for then? Give it to me, you clown you! Here’s your shirt. And them gutties must be dry by now.

(SKINNER
takes off the robe and puts on the dry shirt. He still wears the hat
.)

LILY
:
D’you know what it would make? A grand warm dressing-gown, wouldn’t it? And that’s what the chairman needs for when he be’s out in the chest hospital.

SKINNER
:
Take it with you.

LILY
:
Wouldn’t I look a quare sight walking along the street with this on my back! Like the time the polis came on the Boxer Branningan driving off the petrol lorry. D’you know the Boxer?

SKINNER
:
Th’old one – two – three – one – two – three.

LILY
:
And says the Boxer to them: ‘I was only looking for a refill for my lighter.’ Where’s the other one (
robe
)?

SKINNER
:
Behind you.

LILY
:
That young fella – what do they call him again?

SKINNER
:
Michael.

LILY
:
That’s it. A grand sensible lad that.

SKINNER
:
Admirable.

LILY
:
I have a Michael. Between Declan and Gloria. His master says he’s just throbbing with brains. Like the chairman.

(
SKINNER
goes to the window and looks out
.
LILY
watches him for a few seconds
.)

LILY
:
Is the aunt alive or dead, Skinner?

SKINNER
:
Dead. Ten years dead.

LILY
:
May the Lord have mercy on her good soul. And where do you live?

SKINNER
:
Anywhere – everywhere. As they say – no fixed address.

LILY
:
And sure if you’ve no fixed address you can’t claim no dale.

SKINNER
:
Right.

LILY
:
And how do you live?

SKINNER
:
On my wits.

LILY
:
But if anything was to happen to you -

SKINNER
:
If I’m sick, the entire wisdom of the health authority is at my service. And should I die, the welfare people would bury me in style. It’s only when I’m alive and well that I’m a problem.

LILY
:
Isn’t that peculiar? All the same, to be put down in style, that’s nice.

SKINNER
:
Great.

LILY
:
And do you just knock about the town all day?

SKINNER
:
Sometimes I move out. To England. Scotland. The life of Riley.

(
LILY
continues folding the robes
.)

LILY
:
I can’t offer you no bed, Skinner, ’cos there’s six in one room and seven in the other. But I could give you a bite to eat most days of the week.

(
Pause
.
Then
SKINNER
suddenly picks up the ceremonial sword
.)

SKINNER
:
On guard!

(
He fences with an imaginary opponent.
)

LILY
:
If you’re stuck.

SKINNER
:
Okay.

LILY
:
And even if I’m out working, the chairman’s always there.

SKINNER
:
Fine.

LILY
:
You know the old station. That’s where we live. It’s a converted warehouse. Third floor up.

SKINNER
:
Do you like my technique?

LILY
:
What?

SKINNER
:
My swordsmanship.

LILY
:
Lovely.

SKINNER
:
How do you think I’m doing?

LILY
:
Great.

SKINNER
:
Thanks, Lily.

LILY
:
Who are you fighting?

SKINNER
:
At the moment the British army.

LILY
:
God help them.

(
LILY
goes on with her housekeeping
.
SKINNER
continues fencing for a few seconds and then stops
.)

SKINNER
:
Lily.

LILY
:
What?

SKINNER
:
Has it anything at all to do with us?

LILY
:
What?

SKINNER
:
This marching – protesting – demonstrating?

LILY
:
What are you talking about, young fella?

SKINNER
:
Has it anything to do with you and me and him – if he only knew it?

LILY
:
What are you ranting about? It’s for us it is. Isn’t it?

SKINNER
:
Doctors, plumbers, teachers, accountants, all shoulder to shoulder – is that us?

LILY
:
Don’t ask me nothing, young fella. I’ve no head. All I do is march. And if you want to know why you should be marching you ask the buck inside.

SKINNER
:
Why do you march?

LILY
:
Me?

SKINNER
:
Why did you march today?

LILY
:
Sure everybody was marching the day.

SKINNER
:
Why were you out?

LILY
:
For the same reason as everybody else.

SKINNER
:
Tell me your reasons.

LILY
:
My reasons is no different to anybody else.

SKINNER
:
Tell me yours.

LILY
:
Wan man – wan vote – that’s what I want. You know – wan man – wan vote.

SKINNER
:
You got that six months ago.

(
Pause
.)

LILY
:
Sure I know that. Sure I know we got it.

SKINNER
:
That’s not what you’re marching for, then.

LILY
:
Gerrymandering – that’s another thing – no more gerrymandering – that’s what I want – no more gerrymandering. And civil rights for everybody – that’s what I want – you know – civil rights – civil rights – that’s why I march.