Such Men Are Dangerous (39 page)
Read Such Men Are Dangerous Online
Authors: Stephen Benatar
TOM has come downstairs and is now standing at the door to the sitting room. LINDA and NORAH are unaware of his presence.
LINDA | But it won’t last, will it? It will come to much the same in the end. |
NORAH | And is that really such a horrifying prospect? Darling, your father and I are happy. By and large. We both made the right decision. We clearly don’t always give the right impression…No, it won’t last. Your pulse won’t accelerate each time you see him, or talk of him, or think of him…Indeed at the moment you scarcely ever stop thinking of him, do you—almost, he underlies your every thought? But in place of that there’ll be an accumulation of little everyday entwining things, a million pleasant memories that no one in this world other than your two selves knows anything about; half- submerged memories it will need only one of you to reach out a groping hand towards… |
LINDA | Hey, Mum. I think you’re being a little sentimental. |
NORAH | Sentimental? Let me just tell you this—sentimental or otherwise. If suddenly your dad weren’t to be here for any reason—I mean dead rather than gone away—there would be a vital part of me that wasn’t here either. Terrifying…And I can never understand how people can actually choose to break up for no particularly good reason, after they’ve been together ten, twenty, thirty years or more. I really can’t. |
LINDA | Perhaps you could say…stuck it out? Two out of three marriages, these days, end in divorce. |
NORAH | What is this? Why are we talking of divorce; tonight of all nights? |
LINDA | You know, I never planned to marry this young. I thought I’d travel round the world a bit, see something of life, have a good time. Sow my wild oats. I vaguely thought of twenty-five or six or seven. |
NORAH | I know you did, darling, and that’s the sort of thing we hoped you’d do, Daddy and I. But this is different. You’ve got a truly exceptional boy out there, the likes of whom—I can tell you!—only come along once in a lifetime…and not usually that. And he won’t stop you travelling round the world, seeing something of life, having a good time. In fact he’ll make it all the more possible because he’s financially in a position to do so, and you’ll be getting twice the fun out of it because you’ll be doing it with somebody you love and stocking up that storehouse of memories together. Just so long as you don’t start on a baby it will be…Darling, you haven’t, have you? |
LINDA | Oh, no, nothing like that. Trevor’s very proper. Very proper indeed. |
NORAH | Well, from all one hears nowadays that sounds remarkably refreshing. Where does the money come from, by the way? |
LINDA | His father’s the Lomax of Lomax Foods. |
NORAH | Good gracious! |
LINDA | Yes. Not bad, eh? Haven’t I done well? |
NORAH | Is it really Easter you’re thinking of? My word but we’ll have to get things moving! Eight weeks—do we have as much as eight weeks? Or won’t we be holding it here…since his parents have offered to pay for it, I mean? |
LINDA | Trevor was saying they’d want to get together with you—as soon as they’ve met me. |
NORAH | Great heavens. Whatever shall I wear? Do you suppose the DHSS will cough up? |
LINDA | Oh, hell. Is it really back to that? |
NORAH | A few days ago. You see, we were holding on by the skin of our teeth, counting on Daddy’s new advance…As a gesture of defiance he spent our last twenty pounds on three bottles of whisky. He just went out—didn’t tell me—I was furious. He said I wasn’t the one who had to fill in all those bloody forms; sit there while they pried and patronized and prevaricated; he thought he’d got away from all of that for ever; and then he started to cry…Obviously you’ll never mention it to Trevor—I mean, our being on supplementary benefit—you’ll promise me that, won’t you? I think I’d die of shame. |
LINDA | I wish we had money. I really do wish we had money. I wish Daddy was a success. I wish it hadn’t always loomed so large: our poverty, our having to make do. |
NORAH | Linda! That’s not like you! At least, I hope it isn’t. I wish it hadn’t always loomed so large as well—of course I do—but Daddy is a success, and anyway we’re not poor, not by so many people’s standards. And what we do have—which thousands of others don’t these days—is hope. We’re the lucky ones; we’re going to get out of it. Imagine knowing that you’re stuck forever…imagine the sheer helplessness of feeling— |
LINDA | How? How are we going to get out of it? |
NORAH | Why, because Daddy will get better and better known with every novel he writes; because maybe at this very moment—or next week—or next year—some film producer somewhere— |
LINDA | You sound like him. You’re sounding just like him. |
NORAH | Perhaps I am. But a little faith is never such a bad thing. |
LINDA | Again! I remember he said something very similar—was it five years ago?—that evening he told us he’d been fired. “Perhaps it’s just to test our faith!” he said. “And so long as you can only keep your faith in me…everyone…I promise you it’s going to be fine! It will all be absolutely fine!” |
NORAH | He was not fired. |
LINDA | All right. Gave in his notice. Which is worse, far worse. Consigning us to all of this…and simply over some really stupid question of offended pride. What a piddling little thing to sacrifice a job for! |
NORAH | It wasn’t a piddling little thing: to be accused of teaching an examination paper. When both the headmaster and the head of your department imply that you’re a liar and a cheat—and when you’re the type of person who always sets such store by the truth; always tries to behave honourably; and won’t even show one sort of face outside the house and a different one inside it… |
LINDA | I just can’t see why you and I and Tom also had to give up so much on account of his honour. Anyway, how do you know he resigned? How do you know he wasn’t sacked? |
NORAH | How do I know? Because that’s what your father told me—that’s how. How do I know you haven’t gone crazy? I don’t. Besides, there isn’t much that teachers can be sacked for any longer. |
LINDA | What can they be sacked for? |
NORAH | Oh, I don’t know. Sexual offences—political indoctrination—running berserk with a shotgun? What difference does it make? |
LINDA | Well, supposing he had been sacked? That would account for his difficulties in finding another job, wouldn’t it? And supposing it was for something different to what he’d told us? There’s no way we’d have known. |
NORAH | Why are we discussing this? Why are we discussing this?…They seem to be a long time out there. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to scream at you; but I just don’t understand what’s going on. When you came home a couple of hours ago you were radiant—bubbling. And now look at you. What on earth has happened in the meantime? |
LINDA | Nothing. Nothing has happened. |
NORAH | Something must have. Don’t you want to marry Trevor any longer? |
LINDA | I certainly don’t want to feel I have to. Just because he has money and we haven’t. |
NORAH | Darling, no one’s asked you to restore the family fortunes. That can’t be what it’s all about. Please tell me what’s upset you. |
LINDA | I can’t. |
NORAH | Yes, you can. Come on; you can tell your old mum anything. |
LINDA | I mean I can’t, because I don’t know. I think I’m suddenly frightened of handing over my life to another person, that’s all. |
NORAH | Handing over your life! This isn’t Victorian England. |
LINDA | It’s the first time I’ve ever been in love. Perhaps I’m scared it’s not the real thing. I’d rather simply live with him to begin with. But he won’t. Why won’t he? |
NORAH | Because he has principles. |
LINDA | You know, he’s never done anything more than kiss me. And even that—very chastely. |
NORAH | Darling, you’ve got your whole life before you—why are you in such a hurry? When did you actually become engaged? |
LINDA | On Wednesday evening, after a dance. And after he’d been going on and on about Dad’s book. In fact I was beginning to think I might be getting increasingly tired of him—when he found this rather novel way of recapturing my interest. |
NORAH | And after you’d known each other for a fortnight? Yes, I’m starting to see what you mean about his taking things so slowly. That…combined with his insistence on wanting a full eight weeks before the wedding. By the way, did his parents have any scruples, do you know? Or did they wholeheartedly give it their blessing? |
LINDA | Oh, apparently they’re tickled pink. They’re very keen to have him married. |
NORAH | But you’re not suggesting that’s the only reason why he’s doing it…because presumably they feel impatient for more grandchildren? I do wish Tom could learn these habits of obedience. I wonder what their secret is…(Some movement makes her suddenly aware of TOM) How long have you been standing there? |
TOM | About a minute. Less than a minute. |
LINDA | No, of course I’m not suggesting that. Oh, I don’t know what it is I’m suggesting. Should you really be down here? You still look groggy. |
TOM | I feel okay. What |
NORAH | It seems to me the sensible thing all round is just to ask him to wait. Have a six-month engagement. If he’s the man I think he is, he won’t make any protest. |
LINDA | If he’s the man I’m beginning to think he is, he won’t make any protest. |
NORAH | Since tonight? |
LINDA | Oh, I don’t suppose so. Maybe it’s just that things have come more into focus. |
TOM | It’s Dad who’s upset you, isn’t it? Well, you know Dad…all that need to be the centre of attention, the funniest person in the room—or, at any rate, the least conventional. Somehow it makes me think of that poem: not waving but drowning. |
NORAH | And you know how he’d hate to hurt you in any way. Remember those paroxysms of remorse I mentioned earlier. He’s probably going through one of them right now. |
TOM | And, Freaky, you are his little Goody-Two- Shoes. |
NORAH | So it was a bit mean, wasn’t it, darling, to hit out like that at his notions of truthfulness and decency? |
LINDA | Decency! |
NORAH | Yes, haven’t you always thought him decent? |
TOM | Especially when he walks through the house in his underpants! |
NORAH | Essential decency. Honour. |
LINDA | Oh, I suppose so. Yes…Yes. |
NORAH | What? |
LINDA | Yes! But he’s certainly been acting quite oddly. |
TOM | I’ll drink to that! |
NORAH | Tom thinks he’s jealous—that’s what he said upstairs. Daddy’s little girl and all that. |
TOM | Of course he’s jealous. |
NORAH | But, my loves, jealousy isn’t a sin. It can’t be helped any more than…well, uncharitable thoughts, for example. Which, so long as you do your very best to push them from you…And I feel sure he |
TOM | And Trevor is really nice. So whatever you do don’t get all silly. |
WILLIAM and TREVOR return.
WILLIAM | We heard that. Why is she getting silly? |
TOM | Because she’s a girl. And because she’s my sister. |
WILLIAM | In any case, I thought you went to bed, young man. |
TOM | I suddenly felt better—grew afraid of what I could be missing. |
WILLIAM | Well, as long as you do feel better. |
LINDA | Where have you two been? |
WILLIAM | Down to the end of the road and back. Actually we did it twice. It was good to have some fresh air. Cold but invigorating. |
LINDA | I’ll go and get the fresh coffee. I set it going a while back. |
TREVOR | Can I help you? |
LINDA | No, you stay there. Won’t take a minute. |
NORAH | (Calling after her) Oh and bring in the biscuit tin, darling. Or—Trevor—are you hungry? Would you like a sandwich, or some scrambled egg or something? |
TREVOR | That’s kind—but we ate very well in Doncaster. (TOM removes the ashtray which Trevor had earlier, absent-mindedly, put down on a chair) I don’t think I’ve yet seen anyone smoke, have I? |
TOM | It depends what you mean by smoke. Maybe smoulder? |
WILLIAM | I see he’s beginning to feel far more like his usual self. |
TOM | The thing is, Trev, there’s something here you should always be prepared for. Spontaneous combustion. If people anywhere can suddenly burst into flame—then someday it’s got to happen in this house. We keep an ashtray to collect the cinders. Less showy than an urn—and you know how it is: they’d only run through the holes in the wicker basket. Irritating, when you have a father who…well, when you know that everything he touches turns to ash. |
WILLIAM | Especially if you haven’t got the Hoover handy. |
NORAH | Or the Rennies!…But I think we’ll let that pass. |
TREVOR | One query gets solved; another arises. But, Tom, there was a Dickens novel, wasn’t there? And I believe it |
TOM | Bleak House |