Brian Friel Plays 1 (37 page)

BEN
:
What I’m saying is that you just can’t walk out without –

ANNA
:
Fine. I’ll tell him about us first.

BEN
:
Anna –

ANNA
:
You want him to understand?

BEN
:
Will you please –

ANNA
:
Do you think for one second he’s not going to hear?

BEN
:
For Christ’s sake –

ANNA
:
That the good people of Ballybeg or his own staff aren’t going to let him know somehow?

BEN
:
You won’t!

ANNA
:
Make up your mind! Is he not going to understand because he’s not told? Or is he going to understand because he’ll be told by them or by me – or by you, Ben?

BEN
:
Nobody need say anything. I’ll clear out in –

ANNA
:
Yes, you’ll clear out – typical Ben! What about me?

BEN
:
I’m warning you, Anna.

ANNA
:
Don’t wag your finger at me!

BEN
:
If you tell him –

ANNA
:
Tell him – don’t tell him – either way I’m leaving.

BEN
:
I’m saying n-n-n-nothing. I promise you that. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

ANNA
:
In that case I’ll tell him. He deserves that much from me.

BEN
:
You’re a heartless bitch!

(
Enter
HELEN
and
TOM
,
arm
in
arm.
)

HELEN
:
Poor Father Tom. D’you know what that was all about? He officiated at all the Butler weddings and all the Butler baptisms but he didn’t officiate at Helen’s wedding, even though Helen asked him, because Louise disapproved and he hadn’t the courage to stand up to Louise and it has been on his conscience ever since and that’s why he’s drunk tonight – otherwise he’d be cold sober. So.

TOM
:
Am I forgiven, Helen?

HELEN
:
Nothing to forgive, Father.

TOM
:
You know something, Helen?

HELEN
:
What’s that, Father?

TOM
:
I’m no damn good, Helen. No damn good at all. I’m – I’m a washout, Helen.

HELEN
:
Indeed you’re not.

TOM
:
You can’t fool me, Helen, I know. I
know.

HELEN
:
You’re fine, Father.

TOM
:
And I’m forgiven?

HELEN
:
Completely.

(
He
slumps
into
a
seat.
)

TOM
:
Thanks be to God.

(
Almost
immediately
he
is
asleep.
)

HELEN
:
There you are – instant absolution!

(
FRANK
enters
reading
in
mock
heroic
style
from
the
parchment.
He
begins
at
the
front
door.
)

FRANK
:
‘We, the people of Ballybeg, learn with great pride and great delight of the heroic deeds of Commandant Frank Butler’ – Lieutenant-Colonel Butler, if you don’t mind,
Ballybeg – ‘who is an honoured and distinguished member of our parish and whose family the people of Ballybeg have always held in the highest esteem.’

HELEN
:
Read it properly, Father. Don’t make a mock of it.

FRANK
:
‘We have always known the Hero of Hari’ – Who’s that? I beg your pardon – ‘to have been an officer of
exemplary
habit and behaviour, a citizen of outstanding probity –’

ANNA
:
Frank.

FRANK
:
‘– and a father and a family man’ – I like this – ‘of noblest Christian integrity and rectitude.’

ANNA
:
Frank.

FRANK
:
Get down on your knees. ‘We are confirmed in our estimate, therefore, when the fame of his heroic actions spread out across the face of –’

ANNA
:
I’ve something to say to you, Frank.

(
He
stops
and
looks
at
her.
TINA
comes
sleepily
downstairs
in
her
dressing-gown
and
is
about
to
enter
when
she
hears
ANNA
’
s
voice.
She
stands
outside
the
living-room
door.
)
I am not going to Dublin with you.

FRANK
:
Nobody’s going anywhere, my darling, until official confirmation comes.

ANNA
:
Then – any time – I’m not going to Dublin – I’m not going anywhere with you.

(
Pause.
)

FRANK
:
What is the matter, my love?

ANNA
:
Are you deaf? Are you stupid? Don’t you understand simple words?

(
As
he
puts
out
his
hand
to
her.
) Don’t – don’t – don’t touch me! I’m leaving you, Frank – can’t you understand that? Leaving you – leaving you – is that simple enough?

(
Very
long
pause
during
which
FRANK
,
puzzled,
studies
her face
for
clues.
)

HELEN
:
I think she’s –

FRANK
:
What is wrong, Anna?

HELEN
:
(
To
ANNA
) You’ve had a very tiring –

FRANK
:
(
Firmly
) Please, Helen. (
Quietly
to
ANNA
.) Why are you leaving me, Anna? Is it something that I have said?

(
ANNA
turns
away
from
him
because
she
is
crying.
She
shakes
her
head.
)

FRANK
:
Is it something that I have done?

(
ANNA
shakes
her
head.
)

HELEN
:
Anna –

FRANK
:
(
Very
sharply
) Helen, please. (
Again
quietly
to
ANNA
) Is it something that I have not done?

(
ANNA
shakes
her
head.
)

Then why are you leaving me, Anna?

ANNA
:
You were so long away –

FRANK
:
Five months.

ANNA
:
And we’d been together such a short time –

FRANK
:
Ten days.

ANNA
:
(
Quickly
) And I tried to keep you, to maintain you in my mind – I tried, Frank, I tried. But you kept slipping away from me. I searched Tina for you, and Miriam, but you weren’t in them. And then I could remember nothing – only your uniform, the colour of your hair, your footstep in the hall – that’s all I could remember – a handsome, courteous, considerate man who had once been kind to me and who wrote me all those simple, passionate letters – too simple, too passionate. And then Ben came. And I found you in him, Frank.

FRANK
:
Found me?

ANNA
:
I was lost.

(
FRANK
looks
at
her,
then
at
BEN
,
then
back
to
her.
)

FRANK
:
Are you telling me that you and he –?

ANNA
:
We had an affair! We were lovers, Ben and I! And everybody in the camp knows! Everybody in Ballybeg knows! Everybody except the Butlers! That’s what I’m telling you! We had an affair!

(
TINA
gives
a
short
cry
– unheard
in
the
living
-room
– and
rushes
upstairs.
)

HELEN
:
O Ben! – you? – O God!

(
She
turns
away
from
him.
FRANK
goes
to
TOM
and
puts
his
hand
on
the
Chaplain’s
shoulder.
)

FRANK
:
(
Softly
) Chaplain – Chaplain.

TOM
:
Mmmm?

FRANK
:
Help, Chaplain.

TOM
:
(
Wakening
) Wha’ – wha’ – what’s that?

FRANK
:
Advice, counsel, help, Chaplain.

TOM
:
What’s the trouble, Frank?

FRANK
:
I need help, Tom.

TOM
:
Terrific, Frank – just terrific – terrific.

FRANK
:
What does a man do, Tom?

TOM
:
Yes, sir – yes, sir – just terrific.

FRANK
:
What should a man do?

(
TOM
is
asleep
again.
FRANK
looks
at
him.
Then very
slowly he
walks
around the room as if
he
were
trying
to remember something.
) (
Finally,
conversationally
)
You know, when I think about it – my God, how she must have suffered. Not that I was insensitive to it – far from it; I used to try to imagine what it was like. I would close my eyes and attempt to invest my body with pain, willing it into my joints, deliberately desiring the experience. But it’s not the same thing – not the same thing at all – how could it be? Because it cannot be assumed like that – it has got to be organic, generated from within. And the statistics are fascinating too – well, no, not fascinating – how could they be fascinating; but interesting, interesting. It starts around forty; it’s estimated that five to six per cent of the population is affected; and women are three times more susceptible than men. But there you are – she was outside the general pattern. What age was she? Helen was what? – three? – four? – so she can’t have been more than twenty-eight or twenty-nine. And she had a very brief introductory period, as they call it. Within six months the hands and feet were swollen and within twelve months the spine was affected. So that within no time at all the fibrous tissues had replaced the normal tissues and when that happens you have at least a partial disorganization of the joints and sometimes complete ankylosis – yes, you’d think I was an authority –

HELEN
:
Father –

FRANK
:
– and of course we attempted everything that was available – physiotherapy, teeth, tonsils, surgery, gold injections, aspirin courses, codeine courses. We even went
to a quack in Kerry who promised us that before we’d be halfway home every swelling would have disappeared. And the cortisone era – my God, the miracle era – the cure for everything. And she responded so wonderfully to it at first – absolutely no pain. She was even able to throw away the stick for a couple of weeks. But it was an illusion – an illusion. Back came the pain, worse than ever. Much, much worse. My God, how she suffered. My God, how she suffered. (
He
stops
and
looks
at
each
person
in
the
room.
Then
he
looks
out
at
SIR
,
whom
he
now
addresses
loudly,
very
deliberately,
and
with
conscious
formality.
He is
very
calm
and
very
controlled.
) Sir.

(
SIR
speaks
quietly
and
does
not
raise
his
eyes
from
the
ledger.
)

SIR
:
Frank.

FRANK
:
I wish to protest, Sir. I wish to lodge a formal protest.

SIR
:
Yes, Frank.

FRANK
:
I am quite calm. And I am not bleating. I am not snivelling.

SIR
:
No, Frank.

FRANK
:
But there are certain things that as a soldier – as a man – I wish to state.

SIR
:
Yes, Frank.

FRANK
:
Yes, you did say we could speak our thoughts. That was established at the outset, wasn’t it? Well, I wish to protest against my treatment. I wish to say that I consider I have been treated unfairly.