Read Belle Moral: A Natural History Online
Authors: Ann-Marie Macdonald
Tags: #General, #Performing Arts, #Theater, #Scotland, #Drama, #American, #Country Homes
Belle Moral: A Natural History (12 page)
P
EARL
. You know what it is. I can see it in your eyes. Why won’t you say?
F
LORA
. Pearl, you mustn’t –
P
EARL
[savage]. You’re not my mother! And you, Doctor, are not my father. While I am still lucid, in the time that remains to me, I intend to work. But I’ll not parade myself as an obscene and bloated curiosity – you see, Doctor, I am still in possession of my faculties, able to diagnose myself, even if you won’t.
[fighting nausea]
Promise me that when my condition becomes apparent, you will operate.
F
LORA
. Operate?
P
EARL
. You will perform a complete hysterectomy.
D
R
R
EID
. Pearl –
P
EARL
[commanding]
. Promise me!
D
R
R
EID
. I promise.
P
EARL
. But neither Victor nor I, no matter how acute our condition, is ever to be committed to an asylum.
D
R
R
EID
. I promise.
P
EARL
. We’re to live here at Belle Moral, and Auntie is to be provided for.
D
R
R
EID
. I promise.
A beat
.
P
EARL
. I’ll marry you, Seamus.
F
LORA
[
repeating under her breath, as though praying]. Deanum dhuit eolas, gu casgadh beum sula. Air na naodha conair, air na naodha conachair, air na naodha coilechinn, air naodha ban senga sith
.
[pron. Jaynum hoed olas, g’càskar bayum sohluh. Air na nuh-ee conn-er, air na nuh-ee conna-hair, air na nuh-ee colla-hin, air nuhee banna sheng-ah shee] [trans: I make for thee a charm to check the evil eye. Against the nine paths, against the nine tumults, against the nine crafty wiles, against the nine slender women of the underworld]
P
EARL
sways on her feet, falls
, W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
catches her
. F
LORA
puts the tea cup to
P
EARL’S
lips
. P
EARL
straightens, takes the cup and hurls the contents at the painting. Thunder. It begins to rain
. P
EARL
exits
. F
LORA
follows her
. W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
awaits instructions
.
D
R
R
EID
. Send for the Justice of the Peace.
Scene 1 The Attic
That night. Rain throughout the the following scenes. Candle light. A single cot. A wash basin. A small crucifix on the wall
. T
HE
C
REATURE
huddles in the worn tartan shawl that obscures its face
. D
R
R
EID
.
is formally dressed
.
D
R
R
EID
. Come. There’s a good girl.
T
HE
C
REATURE
is motionless
. D
R
R
EID
takes something from his pocket, crouches, gently holds out his hand
.
Have a sweet. Go ahead.
[drawing closer, friendly]
I’m not going to hurt you.
T
HE
C
REATURE
lunges, taking a ferocious swipe at him with its bare hands, and swiftly retreats to a crouch
. D
R
R
EID
falls back, clutching his neck
.
Damn you!
He is bleeding. He backs away cautiously, reaching for his medical bag
.
P
EARL
,
in travelling tweeds, brushes her hair back into a severe bun
. F
LORA
enters with a wedding gown
. P
EARL
stares
.
F
LORA
. You’ll only be wed once. Please, pet.
P
EARL
. Has Victor come home yet?
F
LORA
shakes her head, no. Hides her face in the gown
.
Thunder. Lightening plays upon the canvas. The colours have begun to run at the centre, revealing a shadowy figure
.
D
R
R
EID
waits in his finery. His neck is bandaged. He stares at the painting. Approaches, about to touch it, when
P
EARL
enters, wearing the wedding gown and veil. She lifts the veil
. D
R
R
EID
is overwhelmed at the sight: she is beautiful
.
P
EARL
[all
but paralyzed with grief]
. My brother is dead, Seamus.
D
R
R
EID
. No, my dear, we’ll find him, I promise you.
P
EARL
. The sea has him. She’s rocking him gently now.
D
R
R
EID
. Hush.
P
EARL
[wiping tears]
. She loves him. She loves us all.
D
R
R
EID
. You are beautiful, Pearl. More beautiful, even, than your mother.
[Holding out his hand.]
Come. There’s a good girl.
He is about to take her hand when
W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
enters
.
W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
. The Justice of the Peace has arrived.
P
EARL
. What are you doing here? Why aren’t you out looking for my brother?
W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
. Your brother –?
D
R
R
EID
[to W
EE
F
ARLEIGH]
. That will be all –
F
LORA
[from off]
. Help!!
P
EARL
. Victor!
F
LORA
[entering]
. She’s dead! Lord help us, Seamus, she’s –!
D
R
R
EID
. Hush, Flora –!
F
LORA
. I canna wake her!
P
EARL
. Who? Who is dead?
F
LORA
. Och, I told ee, Seamus, I warned ee, the banshee niver lies –!
D
R
R
EID
. She’s alive, I tell you!
P
EARL
. What is going on in this house?!
D
R
R
EID
. Pearl –
P
EARL
. Tell me!
D
R
R
EID
. Wait until we are wed, I beseech you.
P
EARL
. Why?
D
R
R
EID
. Because …
P
EARL
. Because it is a horror.
D
R
R
EID
. Because it is a gift. My gift to you.
F
LORA
. Seamus –!
P
EARL
. Show me this instant. Or leave my sight.
He holds out his hand. She takes it. Thunder. They exit
. F
LORA
goes to follow but turns back
.
F
LORA
. Why have you given up the search?
W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
. What search, Miss?
F
LORA
. Did Dr Reid not ask you to find young Master MacIsaac?
W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
. No, Miss. Miss, the Justice of Peace is waiting in the conservatory. Shall I offer him some refreshment?
P
EARL
, D
R
R
EID
at her side, gazes at
T
HE
C
REATURE
who lies, immobile on the cot, dressed in a white
nightgown
. T
HE
C
REATURE’S
long hair is spread out around her, the tartan shawl lies discarded on the floor
. P
EARL
goes to approach, but hesitates
.
D
R
R
EID
. Go ahead. It is quite safe.
P
EARL
. Who is she?
D
R
R
EID
. Pearl, approach the subject. Closer examination may prompt you to revise your question.
P
EARL
goes closer. She sees something on one side of
T
HE
C
REATURE
’s head and is startled, then drawn in
.
Ay. “What” is she? That is the question you and I shall dedicate our lives to answering. Oh, Pearl; I worship you.
F
LORA
enters
. T
HE
C
REATURE
stirs
.
You see, Flora? She is not dead. Merely sedated.
F
LORA
. Why?
D
R
R
EID.
She’s my patient. I’m treating her.
P
EARL
,
speechless, smooths the hair back from the other side of the woman’s face to reveal a scar in place of an ear. She looks to
D
R
R
EID
.
I’ll answer your questions, my darling, every one. Come away now, the Justice of the Peace is waiting –
F
LORA
. No he’s not. I sent him away.
D
R
R
EID
. Have you taken leave of your senses?
F
LORA
. You never told Wee Farleigh to go out after Victor. You left the lad to wander all alone, weeping and raging, and on such a night, why? When you know what can happen?
D
R
R
EID
. Pearl, your brother is more histrionic than hysterical, the best thing for it is to ignore him.
F
LORA
[to P
EARL]
. She’s your sister.
D
R
R
EID
. Flora –!
F
LORA
. She is your sister, Pearl, your flesh and blood, I wanted to tell you, but Dr Reid –
D
R
R
EID
[icy]
. As I recall, Flora, we agreed –
F
LORA
[outraged, to
D
R
R
EID]
. Fiend!
D
R
R
EID
[forced calm, to
P
EARL]
. My dearest girl. There is no reason why this need alter, in the slightest degree, the course of your life. Look away now and we shall never mention this night again.
V
ICTOR
and
W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
enter
. V
ICTOR
is soaked
.
F
LORA
[seeing
V
ICTOR
safe]. Oh thank God.
V
ICTOR
sees
T
HE
C
REATURE
.
His breathing becomes slightly laboured
.
P
EARL
. She’s our sister, Victor.
V
ICTOR
draws near. He sees what
P
EARL
saw. His breathing calms
.
F
LORA
[gentle]
. Victor, sweetheart, she’s your twin.
A beat
.
P
EARL
. Am I to understand that … she has been here, under this roof –
F
LORA
. No, no –
D
R
R
EID
. No, your father sent her away –
F
LORA
. For your sakes –
D
R
R
EID
. The child was placed in a home.
P
EARL
. What “home”?
F
LORA
[making excuses]
. A decent one, in the north–
D
R
R
EID
[in
contrast to
F
LORA
,
determined not to mince words]
. A home for lunatics.
P
EARL
. Is she a lunatic?
D
R
R
EID
. She is not
compos mentis
in the usual sense, but nor is she clinically mad.
P
EARL
. Then why was she in a mad house?
F
LORA
. Your father wanted her cared for … elsewhere.
D
R
R
EID
. It was a diagnosis of convenience. And I made it, God forgive me, out of loyalty to Ramsay. But you can imagine the calibre of care.
F
LORA
. It was respectable haim, Young Farleigh visited –
D
R
R
EID
. How often did you visit, Flora?
A beat
. F
LORA
is too ashamed to answer
. D
R
R
EID
addresses
P
EARL
.
A remote and antiquated facility designed solely for the warehousing of the blighted, the delinquent, the feeble-minded, mad, and otherwise unwanted members of “respectable” families. Ay, Flora, you’ve taken “good care” of the children. She’s lucky to be alive. [to V
ICTOR
and
P
EARL]
She’s here now only because your aunt ran out of money,
[to
F
LORA]
isn’t that so? But now that she is here, I vow upon my honour that I shall spend the rest of my life, restoring purpose to hers.
V
ICTOR
. What’s wrong with her?