Complete Works, Volume I (27 page)

KING:
What in heaven's name is going on here!

The scuffle stops. A short silence,
ALBERT
opens the front door, goes out and slams it behind him. He stands on the doorstep, breathing heavily, his face set.

SCENE TWO

The kitchen.

MRS. STOKES
is asleep, her head resting on the table, the cards disordered. The clock ticks. It is twelve o
’
clock. The front door opens slowly.
ALBERT
comes in, closes the door softly, stops, looks across to the open kitchen door, sees his mother, and begins to creep up the stairs with great stealth. The camera follows him. Her voice stops him.

MOTHER
: Albert!

He stops.

Albert! Is that you?

She goes to the kitchen door.

What are you creeping up the stairs for? Might have been a burglar. What would I have done then?

He descends slowly.

Creeping up the stairs like that. Give anyone a fright. Creeping up the stairs like that. You leave me in the house all alone . . . [
She stops and regards him.
] Look at you! Look at your suit. What's the matter with your tie, it's all crumpled, I pressed it for you this morning. Well, I won't even ask any questions. That's all. You look a disgrace.

He walks past her into the kitchen, goes to the sink and pours himself a glass of water. She follows him.

What have you been doing, mucking about with girls?

She begins to pile the cards.

Mucking about with girls, I suppose. Do you know what the time is? I fell asleep, right here at this table, waiting
for you. I don't know what your father would say. Coming in this time of night. It's after twelve o'clock. In a state like that. Drunk, I suppose. I suppose your dinner's ruined. Well, if you want to make a convenience out of your own home, that's your business. I'm only your mother, I don't suppose that counts for much these days. I'm not saying any more. If you want to go mucking about with girls, that's your business.

She takes his dinner out of the oven.

Well, anyway, you'll have your dinner. You haven't eaten a single thing all night.

She places a plate on the table and gets knife and fork. He stands by the sink, sipping water.

I wouldn't mind if you found a really nice girl and brought her home and introduced her to your mother, brought her home for dinner, I'd know you were sincere, if she was a really nice girl, she'd be like a daughter to me. But you've never brought a girl home here in your life. I suppose you're ashamed of your mother.

[
Pause.
]

Come on, it's all dried up. I kept it on a low light. I couldn't even go up to Grandma's room and have a look round because there wasn't any bulb, you might as well eat it.

He stands.

What's the matter, are you drunk? Where did you go, to one of those pubs in the West End? You'll get into serious trouble, my boy, if you frequent those places, I'm warning you. Don't you read the papers?

[
Pause.
]

I hope you're satisfied, anyway. The house in darkness, I wasn't going to break my neck going down to that cellar
to look for a bulb, you come home looking like I don't know what, anyone would think you gave me a fortune out of your wages. Yes. I don't say anything, do I? I keep quiet about what you expect me to manage on. I never grumble. I keep a lovely home, I bet there's none of the boys in your firm better fed than you are. I'm not asking for gratitude. But one things hurts me, Albert, and I'll tell you what it is. Not for years, not for years, have you come up to me and said, Mum, I love you, like you did when you were a little boy. You've never said it without me having to ask you. Not since before your father died. And he was a good man. He had high hopes of you. I've never told you, Albert, about the high hopes he had of you. I don't know what you do with all your money. But don't forget what it cost us to rear you, my boy, I've never told you about the sacrifices we made, you wouldn't care, anyway. Telling me lies about going to the firm's party. They've got a bit of respect at that firm, that's why we sent you there, to start off your career, they wouldn't let you carry on like that at one of their functions. Mr. King would have his eye on you. I don't know where you've been. Well, if you don't want to lead a clean life it's your lookout, if you want to go mucking about with all sorts of bits of girls, if you're content to leave your own mother sitting here till midnight, and I wasn't feeling well, anyway, I didn't tell you because I didn't want to upset you, I keep things from you, you're the only one I've got, but what do you care, you don't care, you don't care, the least you can do is sit down and eat the dinner I cooked for you, specially for you, it's Shepherd's Pie—

ALBERT
lunges to the table, picks up the clock and violently raises it above his head. A stifled scream from the
MOTHER
.

Act Three

SCENE ONE

The coffee stall, shuttered.

ALBERT
is leaning against it. He is sweating. He is holding the butt of a cigarette. There is a sound of a foot on gravel. He starts, the butt burns his hand, he drops it and turns. A
GIRL
is looking at him. She smiles.

GIRL:
Good evening.

[
Pause.
]

What are you doing?

[
Pause.
]

What are you doing out at this time of night?

She moves closer to him.

I live just round the corner.

He stares at her.

Like to? Chilly out here, isn't it? Come on.

[
Pause.
]

Come on.

He goes with her.

SCENE TWO

The
GIRL’S
room. The door opens. She comes in. Her manner has changed from the seductive. She is brisk and nervous.

GIRL:
Come in. Don't slam the door. Shut it gently. I'll light the fire. Chilly out, don't you find? Have you got a match?

He walks across the room.

GIRL:
Please don't walk so heavily. Please. There's no need to let . . . to let the whole house know you're here. Life's difficult enough as it is. Have you got a match?

ALBERT
: No, I . . . I don't think I have.

GIRL:
Oh, God, you'd think you'd have a match.

He walks about.

I say, would you mind taking your shoes off? You're really making a dreadful row. Really, I can't bear . . . noisy . . . people.

He looks at his shoes, begins to untie one. The
GIRL
searches for matches on the mantelpiece, upon which are a number of articles and objects, including a large alarm clock.

I know I had one somewhere.

ALBERT
: I've got a lighter.

GIRL:
You can't light a gasfire with a lighter. You'd burn your fingers.

She bends down to the hearth.

Where are the damn things? This is ridiculous. I die without the fire. I simply die. [
She finds the box.
] Ah, here we are. At last.

She turns on the gas fire and lights it. He watches her. She puts the matchbox on the mantelpiece and picks up a photo.

Do you like this photo? It's of my little girl. She's staying with friends. Rather fine, isn't she? Very aristocratic features, don't you think? She's at a very select boarding school at the moment, actually. In . . . Hereford, very near Hereford. [She
puts the photo back.
] I shall be going down for the prize day shortly. You do look idiotic standing there with one shoe on and one shoe off. All lop-sided.

ALBERT
pulls at the lace of his other shoe. The lace breaks. He swears shortly under his breath.

GIRL
[
sharply
]: Do you mind not saying words like that?

ALBERT
: I didn't . . .

GIRL:
I heard you curse.

ALBERT
: My lace broke.

GIRL:
That's no excuse.

ALBERT
: What did I say?

GIRL:
I'm sorry, I can't bear that sort of thing. It's just . . . not in my personality.

ALBERT
: I'm sorry.

GIRL:
It's quite all right. It's just . . . something in my nature. I've got to think of my daughter, too, you know.

She crouches by the fire.

Come near the fire a minute. Sit down.

He goes towards a small stool.

Not on that! That's my seat. It's my own stool. I did the needlework myself. A long time ago.

He sits in a chair, opposite.

Which do you prefer, electric or gas? For a fire, I mean?

ALBERT
[
holding his forehead, muttering
]: I don't know.

GIRL:
There's no need to be rude, it was a civil question. I prefer gas. Or a log fire, of course. They have them in Switzerland.

[
Pause.
]

Have you got a headache?

ALBERT
: No.

GIRL:
I didn't realize you had a lighter. You don't happen to have any cigarettes on you, I suppose?

ALBERT
: No.

GIRL:
I'm very fond of a smoke. After dinner. With a glass of wine. Or before dinner, with sherry.

She stands and taps the mantelpiece, her eyes roaming over it.

You look as if you've had a night out. Where have you been? Had a nice time?

ALBERT
: Quite . . . quite nice.

GIRL
[
sitting on the stool
]: What do you do?

ALBERT
: I . . . work in films.

GIRL:
Films? Really? What do you do?

ALBERT
: I'm an assistant director.

GIRL:
Really? How funny. I used to be a continuity girl. But I gave it up.

ALBERT
[
tonelessly
]: What a pity.

GIRL:
Yes, I'm beginning to think you're right. You meet such a good class of people. Of course, now you say you're an assistant director I can see what you mean. I mean, I could tell you had breeding the moment I saw you. You looked a bit washed out, perhaps, but there was no mistaking the fact that you had breeding. I'm extremely particular, you see. I do like a certain amount of delicacy in men . . . a certain amount . . . a certain degree . . . a certain amount of refinement. You do see my point? Some men I couldn't possibly entertain. Not even if I was . . . starving. I don't want to be personal, but that word you used, when you broke your lace, it made me shiver, I'm just not that type, made me wonder if you were as well bred as I thought . . .

He wipes his face with his hand.

You do look hot. Why are you so hot? It's chilly. Yes, you remind me . . . I saw the most ghastly horrible fight before, there was a man, one man, he was sweating . . . sweating. You haven't been in a fight, by any chance? I don't know how men can be so bestial. It's hardly much fun for women, I can tell you. I don't want someone else's blood on my carpet.

ALBERT
chuckles.

What are you laughing at?

ALBERT
: Nothing.

GIRL:
It's not in the least funny.

ALBERT
looks up at the mantelpiece. His gaze rests there.

What are you looking at?

ALBERT
[
ruminatively
]: That's a nice big clock.

It is twenty past two.

GIRL
[
with fatigue
]: Yes, it's late, I suppose we might as well . . . Haven't you got a cigarette?

ALBERT
: No.

GIRL [
jumping up
]: I'm sure I have, somewhere. [
She goes to the table.
] Yes, here we are, I knew I had. I have to hide them. The woman who comes in to do my room, she's very light-fingered. I don't know why she comes in at all. Nobody wants her, all she does is spy on me, but I'm obliged to put up with her, this room is serviced. Which means I have to pay a pretty penny.

She lights her cigarette.

It's a dreadful area, too. I'm thinking of moving. The neighbourhood is full of people of no class at all. I just don't fit in.

ALBERT
: Is that clock right?

GIRL:
People have told me, the most distinguished people, that I could go anywhere. You could go anywhere, they've told me, you could be anything. I'm quite well educated, you know. My father was a . . . he was a military man. In the Army. Actually it was a relief to speak to you. I haven't . . . spoken to anyone for some hours.

ALBERT
suddenly coughs violently.

Oh, please don't do that! Use your handkerchief!

He sighs, and groans.

What on earth's the matter with you? What have you been doing tonight?

He looks at her and smiles.

ALBERT
: Nothing.

GIRL:
Really?

She belches.

Oh, excuse me. I haven't eaten all day. I had a tooth out. Hiccoughs come from not eating, don't they? Do you . . . do you want one of these?

She throws him a cigarette, which he slowly lights.

I mean, I'm no different from any other girl. In fact, I'm better. These so-called respectable girls, for instance, I'm sure they're much worse than I am. Well, you're an assistant director—all your continuity girls and secretaries, I'll bet they're . . . very loose.