Complete Works, Volume I (19 page)

The lavatory chain is pulled once off left, but the lavatory does not flush.

Silence.

GUS
re-enters and stops inside the door, deep in thought. He looks at
BEN
,
then walks slowly across to his own bed. He is troubled. He stands, thinking. He turns and looks at
BEN
.
He moves a few paces towards him.

(
Slowly in a low, tense voice
) Why did he send us matches if he knew there was no gas?

Silence.

BEN
stares in front of him.
GUS
crosses to the left side of
BEN
,
to the foot of his bed, to get to his other ear.

Ben. Why did he send us matches if he knew there was no gas?

BEN
looks up.

Why did he do that?

BEN
. Who?

GUS
. Who sent us those matches?

BEN
. What are you talking about?

GUS
stares down at him.

GUS
(
thickly
). Who is it upstairs?

BEN
(
nervously
). What's one thing to do with another?

GUS
. Who is it, though?

BEN
. What's one thing to do with another?

BEN
fumbles for his paper on the bed.

GUS
. I asked you a question.

BEN
. Enough!

GUS
(
with growing agitation
). I asked you before. Who moved in? I asked you. You said the people who had it before moved out. Well, who moved in?

BEN
(
hunched
). Shut up.

GUS
. I told you, didn't I?

BEN
(
standing
). Shut up!

GUS
(
feverishly
). I told you before who owned this place, didn't I? I told you.

BEN
hits him viciously on the shoulder.

I told you who ran this place, didn't I?

BEN
hits him viciously on the shoulder.

(
Violently.
) Well, what's he playing all these games for?

That's what I want to know. What's he doing it for?

BEN
. What games?

GUS
(
passionately, advancing
). What's he doing it for? We've been through our tests, haven't we? We got right through our tests, years ago, didn't we? We took them together, don't you remember, didn't we? We've proved ourselves before now, haven't we? We've always done our job. What's he doing all this for? What's the idea? What's he playing these games for?

The box in the shaft comes down behind them. The noise is this time accompanied by a shrill whistle, as it falls.
GUS
rushes to the hatch and seizes the note.

(
Reading.
) Scampi!

He crumples the note, picks up the tube, takes out the whistle, blows and speaks.

WE’VE GOT NOTHING LEFT! NOTHING! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

BEN
seizes the tube and flings
GUS
away. He follows
GUS
and slaps him hard, back-handed, across the chest.

BEN
. Stop it! You maniac!

GUS
. But you heard!

BEN
(
savagely
). That's enough! I'm warning you!

Silence.

BEN
hangs the tube. He goes to his bed and lies down. He picks up his paper and reads.

Silence.

The box goes up.

They turn quickly, their eyes meet.
BEN
turns to his paper.

Slowly
GUS
goes back to his bed, and sits.

Silence.

The hatch falls back into place.

They turn quickly, their eyes meet.
BEN
turns back to his paper.

Silence.

BEN
throws his paper down.

BEN
. Kaw!

He picks up the paper and looks at it.

Listen to this!

Pause.

What about that, eh?

Pause.

Kaw!

Pause.

Have you ever heard such a thing?

GUS
(
dully
). Go on!

BEN
. It's true.

GUS
. Get away.

BEN
. It's down here in black and white.

GUS
(
very low
). Is that a fact?

BEN
. Can you imagine it.

GUS
. It's unbelievable.

BEN
. It's enough to make you want to puke, isn't it?

GUS
(
almost inaudible
). Incredible.

BEN
shakes his head. He puts the paper down and rises. He fixes the revolver is his holster.

GUS
stands up. He goes towards the door on the left.

BEN
. Where are you going?

GUS
. I'm going to have a glass of water.

He exits.
BEN
brushes dust off his clothes and shoes. The whistle in the speaking-tube blows. He goes to it, takes the whistle out and puts the tube to his ear. He listens. He puts it to his mouth.

BEN
. Yes.

To ear. He listens. To mouth.

Straight away. Right.

To ear. He listens. To mouth.

Sure we're ready.

To ear. He listens. To mouth.

Understood. Repeat. He has arrived and will be coming in straight away. The normal method to be employed. Understood.

To ear. He listens. To mouth.

Sure we're ready.

To ear. He listens. To mouth.

Right.

He hangs the tube up.

Gus!

He takes out a comb and combs his hair, adjusts his jacket to diminish the bulge of the revolver. The lavatory flushes off left.
BEN
goes quickly to the door, left.

Gus!

The door right opens sharply.
BEN
turns, his revolver levelled at the door.

GUS
stumbles in.

He is stripped of his jacket, waistcoat, tie, holster and revolver.

He stops, body stooping, his arms at his sides.

He raises his head and looks at
BEN
.

A long silence.

They stare at each other.

Curtain

A Slight Ache

A SLIGHT ACHE
was first performed on the B.B.C. Third Programme on 29 July 1959, with the following cast:

Produced by Donald McWhinnie

It was presented by Michael Codron at the Arts Theatre, London, on 18 January 1961, and subsequently at the Criterion Theatre, with the following cast:

Produced by Donald McWhinnie

A country house, with two chairs and a table laid for breakfast at the centre of the stage. These will later be removed and the action will be focused on the scullery on the right and the study on the left, both indicated with a minimum of scenery and props. A large well kept garden is suggested at the back of the stage with flower beds, trimmed hedges, etc. The garden gate, which cannot be seen by the audience, is off right.

FLORA
and
EDWARD
are discovered sitting at the breakfast table.
EDWARD
is reading the paper.

FLORA
: Have you noticed the honeysuckle this morning?

EDWARD
: The what?

FLORA
: The honeysuckle.

EDWARD
: Honeysuckle? Where?

FLORA
: By the back gate, Edward.

EDWARD
: Is that honeysuckle? I thought it was . . . convolvulus, or something.

FLORA
: But you know it's honeysuckle.

EDWARD
: I tell you I thought it was convolvulus.

[
Pause.
]

FLORA
: It's in wonderful flower.

EDWARD
: I must look.

FLORA
: The whole garden's in flower this morning. The clematis. The convolvulus. Everything. I was out at seven. I stood by the pool.

EDWARD
: Did you say—that the convolvulus was in flower?

FLORA
: Yes.

EDWARD
: But good God, you just denied there was any.

FLORA
: I was talking about the honeysuckle.

EDWARD
: About the what?

FLORA
[
calmly
]
:
Edward—you know that shrub outside the toolshed . . .

EDWARD
: Yes, yes.

FLORA
: That's convolvulus.

EDWARD
: That?

FLORA
: Yes.

EDWARD
: Oh.

[
Pause.
]

I thought it was japonica.

FLORA
: Oh, good Lord no.

EDWARD
: Pass the teapot, please.

Pause. She pours tea for him.

I don't see why I should be expected to distinguish between these plants. It's not my job.

FLORA
: You know perfectly well what grows in your garden.

EDWARD
: Quite the contrary. It is clear that I don't.

[
Pause.
]

FLORA
[rising]: I was up at seven. I stood by the pool. The peace. And everything in flower. The sun was up. You should work in the garden this morning. We could put up the canopy.

EDWARD
: The canopy? What for?

FLORA
: To shade you from the sun.

EDWARD
: Is there a breeze?

FLORA
: A light one.

EDWARD
: It's very treacherous weather, you know.

[
Pause.
]

FLORA
: Do you know what today is?

EDWARD
: Saturday.

FLORA
: It's the longest day of the year.

EDWARD
: Really?

FLORA
: It's the height of summer today.

EDWARD
: Cover the marmalade.

FLORA
: What?

EDWARD
: Cover the pot. There's a wasp. [
He puts the paper down on the table.
] Don't move. Keep still. What are you doing?

FLORA
: Covering the pot.

EDWARD
: Don't move. Leave it. Keep still.

[
Pause.
]

Give me the ‘Telegraph’.

FLORA
: Don't hit it. It'll bite.

EDWARD
: Bite? What do you mean, bite? Keep still.

[
Pause.
]

It's landing.

FLORA
: It's going in the pot.

EDWARD
: Give me the lid.

FLORA
: It's in.

EDWARD
: Give me the lid.

FLORA
: I'll do it.

EDWARD
: Give it to me! Now . . . Slowly . . .

FLORA
: What are you doing?

EDWARD
: Be quiet. Slowly . . . carefully . . . on . . . the . . . pot! Ha-ha-ha. Very good.

He sits on a chair to the right of the table.

FLORA
: Now he's in the marmalade.

EDWARD
: Precisely.

Pause. She sits on a chair to the left of the table and reads the ‘Telegraph’.

FLORA
: Can you hear him?

EDWARD
: Hear him?

FLORA
: Buzzing.

EDWARD
: Nonsense. How can you hear him? It's an earthenware lid.

FLORA
: He's becoming frantic.

EDWARD
: Rubbish. Take it away from the table.

FLORA
: What shall I do with it?

EDWARD
: Put it in the sink and drown it.

FLORA
: It'll fly out and bite me.

EDWARD
: It will not bite you! Wasps don't bite. Anyway, it won't fly out. It's stuck. It'll drown where it is, in the marmalade.

FLORA
: What a horrible death.

EDWARD
: On the contrary.

[
Pause.
]

FLORA
: Have you got something in your eyes?

EDWARD
: No. Why do you ask?

FLORA
: You keep clenching them, blinking them.

EDWARD
: I have a slight ache in them.

FLORA
: Oh, dear.

EDWARD
: Yes, a slight ache. As if I hadn't slept.

FLORA
: Did you sleep, Edward?

EDWARD
: Of course I slept. Uninterrupted. As always.

FLORA
: And yet you feel tired.

EDWARD
: I didn't say I felt tired. I merely said I had a slight ache in my eyes.

FLORA
: Why is that, then?

EDWARD
: I really don't know.

[
Pause.
]

FLORA
: Oh goodness!

EDWARD
: What is it?

FLORA
: I can see it. It's trying to come out.

EDWARD
: How can it?

FLORA
: Through the hole. It's trying to crawl out, through the spoon-hole.

EDWARD
: Mmmnn, yes. Can't do it, of course. [
Silent pause.
] Well, let's kill it, for goodness’ sake.

FLORA
: Yes, let's. But how?

EDWARD
: Bring it out on the spoon and squash it on a plate.

FLORA
: It'll fly away. It'll bite.

EDWARD
: If you don't stop saying that word I shall leave this table.

FLORA
: But wasps do bite.

EDWARD
: They don't bite. They sting. It's snakes . . . that bite.

FLORA
: What about horseflies?

[
Pause.
]

EDWARD
[
to himself
]: Horseflies suck

[
Pause.
]

FLORA
[
tentatively
]: If we . . . if we wait long enough, I suppose it'll choke to death. It'll suffocate in the marmalade.

EDWARD
[
briskly
]
:
You do know I've got work to do this morning, don't you? I can't spend the whole day worrying about a wasp.

FLORA
: Well, kill it.

EDWARD
: You want to kill it?

FLORA
: Yes.

EDWARD
: Very well. Pass me the hot water jug.

FLORA
: What are you going to do?

EDWARD
: Scald it. Give it to me.

She hands him the jug. Pause.

Now . . .

FLORA
[
whispering
]: Do you want me to lift the lid?

EDWARD
: No, no, no. I'll pour down the spoon hole. Right . . . down the spoon-hole.

FLORA
: Listen!

EDWARD
: What?

FLORA
: It's buzzing.

EDWARD
: Vicious creatures.

[
Pause.
]

Curious, but I don't remember seeing any wasps at all, all
summer, until now. I'm sure I don't know why. I mean, there must have been wasps.

FLORA
: Please.

EDWARD
: This couldn't be the first wasp, could it?

FLORA
: Please.

EDWARD
: The first wasp of summer? No. It's not possible.

FLORA
: Edward.

EDWARD
: Mmmmnnn?

FLORA
: Kill it.

EDWARD
: Ah, yes. Tilt the pot. Tilt. Aah . . . down here . . . right down . . . blinding him . . . that's . . . it.

FLORA
: Is it?

EDWARD
: Lift the lid. All right, I will. There he is! Dead. What a monster. [
He squashes it on a plate.
]

FLORA
: What an awful experience.

EDWARD
: What a beautiful day it is. Beautiful. I think I shall work in the garden this morning. Where's that canopy?

FLORA
: It's in the shed.

EDWARD
: Yes, we must get it out. My goodness, just look at that sky. Not a cloud. Did you say it was the longest day of the year today?

FLORA
: Yes.

EDWARD
: Ah, it's a good day. I feel it in my bones. In my muscles. I think I'll stretch my legs in a minute. Down to the pool. My God, look at that flowering shrub over there. Clematis. What a wonderful . . . [
He stops suddenly.
]

FLORA
: What?

[
Pause.
]

Edward, what is it?

[
Pause.
]

Edward . . .

EDWARD
[
thickly
]: He's there.

FLORA
: Who?

EDWARD
[
low, murmuring
]: Blast and damn it, he's there, he's there at the back gate.

FLORA
: Let me see.

She moves over to him to look. Pause.

[
Lightly
.] Oh, it's the matchseller.

EDWARD
: He's back again.

FLORA
: But he's always there.

EDWARD
: Why? What is he doing there?

FLORA
: But he's never disturbed you, has he? The man's been standing there for weeks. You've never mentioned it.

EDWARD
: What is he doing there?

FLORA
: He's selling matches, of course.

EDWARD
: It's ridiculous. What's the time?

FLORA
: Half past nine.

EDWARD
: What in God's name is he doing with a tray full of matches at half past nine in the morning?

FLORA
: He arrives at seven o'clock.

EDWARD
: Seven o'clock?

FLORA
: He's always there at seven.

EDWARD
: Yes, but you've never . . . actually seen him arrive?

FLORA
: No, I . . .

EDWARD
: Well, how do you know he's . . . not been standing there all night?

[
Pause.
]

FLORA
: Do you find him interesting, Edward?

EDWARD
[
casually
]
:
Interesting? No. No, I . . . don't find him interesting.

FLORA
: He's a very nice old man, really.

EDWARD
: You've spoken to him?

FLORA
: No. No, I haven't spoken to him. I've nodded.

EDWARD
[
pacing up and down
]: For two months he's been standing on that spot, do you realize that? Two months. I haven't been able to step outside the back gate.

FLORA
: Why on earth not?

EDWARD
[
to himself
]: It used to give me great pleasure, such pleasure, to stroll along through the long grass, out through
the back gate, pass into the lane. That pleasure is now denied me. It's my own house, isn't it? It's my own gate.

FLORA
: I really can't understand this, Edward.

EDWARD
: Damn. And do you know I've never seen him sell one box? Not a box. It's hardly surprising. He's on the wrong road. It's not a road at all. What is it? It's a lane, leading to the monastery. Off everybody's route. Even the monks take a short cut to the village, when they want to go . . . to the village. No one goes up it. Why doesn't he stand on the main road if he wants to sell matches, by the
front
gate? The whole thing's preposterous.