Chapter 5

_Half an hour later. The light has waned; the fire is lit and throws a red reflection into the room._ DAN _is lying on the sofa, eyes closed._ NURSE LIBBY _sits at the end of the sofa holding his pulse._ MRS. TERENCE _stands behind the sofa with a toby jug of water._

NURSE: There, lovey, you won't be long now.... Ever so much steadier already.... What a bit o' luck me blowin' in to-day!... Tt! tt! Pouring with sweat, the lad is. Whatever's he been up to?

MRS. TERENCE: When I walked in that door and saw 'im lyin' full stretch on that floor everything went topsy-wopsy. (_Pressing the jug to_ DAN'S _lips_) It did! The room went round and round....

NURSE:(_as_ DAN _splutters_): Don't choke 'im, there's a love....

MRS. TERENCE: D'you know what I said to meself when I saw 'im lyin' there?

NURSE: What?

MRS. TERENCE: I said, "That murderer's been at 'im," I said, "and it's the next victim." I did!

NURSE: So you would! Just like the pictures.... 'Old your 'ead up, love.

MRS. TERENCE (_as_ NURSE LIBBY _supports_ DAN'S _head_): Got a _nice_ face, 'asn't he?

NURSE: Oh, yes!... (As DAN'S eyes flicker) Shh, he's coming to.... DAN _opens his eyes and looks at her._

Welcome back to the land of the living!

MRS. TERENCE: Thought the murderer'd got you! _A pause._ DAN _stares, then sits up abruptly._

DAN: How long I been like that?

NURSE: We picked you up ten minutes ago, and I'd say it was twenty minutes before that, roughly-like, that you passed away.

MRS. TERENCE: Passed away, don't frighten the boy!... Whatever come over you, dear?

DAN: I dunno. Felt sick, I think. (_Recovering himself_) Say no more about it, eh? Don't like swinging the lead.... (_His head in his hand._)

MRS. TERENCE: Waiting 'and and foot on Madame Crocodile, enough to wear King Kong out....

NURSE: That's better, eh?

DAN: Is it really getting dark?

MRS. TERENCE: It's a scandal the way the days are drawin' in.... 'Ave another sip----

DAN (_as she makes to give him more water, to_ NURSE LIBBY): You haven't such a thing as a nip of brandy?

NURSE (_opening her bag_): Yes, lovey, I nearly gave you a drop just now---

DAN _takes a flask from her and gulps; he takes a second mouthful. He gives it back, shakes himself, and looks before him._

MRS. TERENCE: Better?

DAN: Yes.... Clears the brain no end.... Makes you understand better.... (_His voice growing in vehemence_) Makes you see what a damn silly thing it is to get the wind up about anything. _Do_ things! Get a move on! Show 'em what you're made of! Get a move on!... Fainting, indeed.... Proper girl's trick, I'm ashamed of myself.... (_Looking round, quietly_) The light's going.... The daytime's as if it's never been; it's dead.... (_Seeing the others stare, with a laugh_) Daft, isn't it?

DORA _brings in an oil lamp from the kitchen; she is wearing her outdoor clothes. She crosses to the table, strikes a match with her back to the audience and lights the lamp, then the wall lamp. The twilight is dispelled._

NURSE (_shutting her bag, rising_): You'll be all right; a bit light-headed after the fall, I expect. (_Going to the hall_) Well, got an abscess the other side of Turneyfield, _and_ a slow puncture. So long, lovey.

DAN (_sitting up_): So long!

NURSE: Be good, all!

_She bustles out of the front door. A pause._ DAN _sits looking before him, drumming his fingers on the sofa._

DORA (_closing the right window-curtains_): What's the matter with him?

MRS. TERENCE: Conked out.

DORA: Conked out? Oh, dear.... D'you think 'e see'd something? I'll tell you what it is!

MRS. TERENCE (_closing the left window-curtains_): What?

DORA: The monster's lurking again.

_Mechanically_ DAN _takes a box of matches and a cigarette from his pocket._

MRS. TERENCE: I'll give you lurk, my girl, look at the egg on my toby! Why don't you learn to wash up, instead of walkin' about talking like three-halfpennyworth of trash?

DORA: I can't wash up properly in that kitchen, with that light. Them little oil lamps isn't any good except to set the place on fire.

_She goes into the kitchen._ DAN _drums his fingers on the sofa._ MRS. BRAMSON _wheels herself from the bedroom._

MRS. BRAMSON: I dropped off. Why didn't somebody wake me? Have I been missing something?

MRS. TERENCE: That Inspector Belsize called.

MRS. BRAMSON (_testily_): Then why didn't somebody wake me? Dan, what did he want?

DAN: Just a friendly call.

MRS. BRAMSON: You seem very far away, dear. What's the matter with you?... Dan!

DAN: Bit of an 'eadache, that's all.

MRS. BRAMSON: Doesn't make you deaf, though, dear, does it?

MRS. TERENCE: Now, now, turnin' against the apple of your eye; can't 'ave that goin' on----

_A sharp knock at the front door._ DAN _starts up and goes towards the hall._

MRS. BRAMSON (_to_ MRS. TERENCE): See who it is.

MRS. TERENCE (_at the front door, as_ DAN _is about to push past her_): Oh ... it's only the paraffin boy.... (_To the boy outside, taking a can from him_) And you bring stuff on a Saturday night another time.

DAN _is standing behind_ MRS. BRAMSON'S _chair._

MRS. BRAMSON: I should think so----MRS. TERENCE _comes into the room._ DAN _strikes a match for his cigarette._

MRS. TERENCE (_with a cry_): Oh! Can't you see this is paraffin? (_She puts the can on the floor just inside the hall._)

MRS. BRAMSON: You went through my side like a knife----

MRS. TERENCE: If people knew what to do with their money, they'd put electric light in their 'omes 'stead of dangerin' people's lives.

_She goes into the kitchen._ DAN _stares before him, the match flickering._

MRS. BRAMSON (_blowing out the match_): You'll burn your fingers! Set yourself on fire! Absent-minded!... I woke up all of a cold shiver. Had a terrible dream.

DAN (_mechanically_): What about?

MRS. BRAMSON: Horrors.... I'm freezing. Get me my shawl off my bed, will you, dear?... (_As he does not move_) My shawl, dear! DAN _starts, collects himself and smiles his most ingratiating smile._

DAN: I am sorry, mum. In the Land of Nod, I was! Let me see, what was it your highness was after? A shawl? No sooner said than done.... You watch me! One, two, three!

_He runs into the bedroom._

MRS. BRAMSON: Silly boy ... silly boy....

OLIVIA _comes in quickly from the kitchen. She is dressed to go out and carries a suitcase._ Where are you off to?

OLIVIA: I--I've had a telegram. A friend of mine in London's very ill.

MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter with her?

OLIVIA: Pneumonia.

MRS. BRAMSON: Where's the telegram?

OLIVIA: I--I threw it away.

MRS. BRAMSON: Where d'you throw it?

OLIVIA: I--I----

MRS. BRAMSON: You haven't had any telegram.

OLIVIA (_impatiently_): No, I haven't!

MRS. BRAMSON: What's the matter with you?

OLIVIA: I can't stay in this house to-night.

MRS. BRAMSON: Why not?

OLIVIA: I'm frightened.

MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, don't be----

OLIVIA: Listen to me. I've never known before what it was to be terrified. But when I saw today beginning to end, and to-night getting nearer and nearer ... I felt my finger-tips getting cold. And I knew it was fright ... stark fright. I'm not a fool, and I'm not hysterical ... but I've been sitting in my room looking at myself in the glass, trying to control myself, telling myself what are real things ... and what aren't. I don't know any longer. The day's over. The forest's all round us. Anything may happen.... You shouldn't stay in this house to-night. That's all.

MRS. BRAMSON (_blustering_): It's very silly of you, trying to scare an old woman with a weak heart. What have you got to be frightened of?

OLIVIA: There's been a murder, you know.

MRS. BRAMSON: Nobody's going to murder _you_! Besides, we've got Danny to look after us. He's as strong as an ox, and no silly nerves about him.... What _is_ it you're afraid of?

OLIVIA: I--

MRS. BRAMSON: Sly, aren't you?... Where are you staying to-night?

OLIVIA: In Langbury, with Hubert Laurie and his sister.

MRS. BRAMSON: Not too frightened to make arrangements with _him_, eh?

OLIVIA: Arrangements?

MRS. BRAMSON: Well, some people would call it something else.

OLIVIA (_losing her temper_): Oh, won't you see ...

MRS. BRAMSON: I'm very annoyed with you. How are you going to get there?

OLIVIA: Walking.

MRS. BRAMSON: Through the forest? Not too frightened for that, I see.

OLIVIA: I'd rather spend to-night in the forest than in this house.

MRS. BRAMSON: That sounds convincing, I must say. Well, you can go, but when you come back, I'm not so sure I shall answer the door. Think that over in the morning.

OLIVIA: The morning?...

DAN'S VOICE (_in the bedroom, singing_): "... their home addresses ... and their caresses ... linger in my memory of those beautiful dames ..."

OLIVIA _listens, holding her breath; she tries to say something to_ MRS. BRAMSON, _and fails. She makes an effort, and runs out of the front door. It bangs behind her._ DAN _comes back from the bedroom, carrying a shawl._

DAN (_over-casual_): What was that at the door?

MRS. BRAMSON: My niece. Gone for the night, if you please.

DAN: Gone ... for the night? (_He stares before him._)

MRS. BRAMSON: Would you believe it? Says she's frightened....

_A pause._

Come along with the shawl, dear. I'm freezing....

DAN (_with a laugh, putting the shawl round her_): Don't know what's up with me--

_He goes to the table and looks at a newspaper._ MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen, her coat on._

MRS. TERENCE: Well, I must go on me way rejoicin'.

MRS. BRAMSON: Everybody seems to be going. What is all this?

MRS. TERENCE: What d'you want for lunch tomorrow?

MRS. BRAMSON: Lunch to-morrow?... Let me see....

DAN: Lunch? To-morrow?... (_After a pause_) What about a nice little steak?

MRS. BRAMSON: A steak, let me see.... Yes, with baked potatoes--

DAN: And a nice roly-poly puddin', the kind you like?

MRS. BRAMSON: I think so.

MRS. TERENCE: Something light. O.K. Good night.

_She goes back into the kitchen._ DAN _scans the newspaper casually._

MRS. BRAMSON (_inquisitive_): What are you reading, dear?

DAN (_breezily_): Only the murder again. About the clues that wasn't any good.

MRS. BRAMSON (_suddenly_): Danny, _d'you_ think Olivia's a thief?

DAN: Shouldn't be surprised.

MRS. BRAMSON: What!

DAN: Her eyes wasn't very wide apart.

MRS. BRAMSON (_working herself up_): Goodness me ... my jewel-box ... what a fool I was to let her go--my earrings ... the double-faced--

_She wheels herself furiously into her bedroom._ DORA, _her hat and coat on, comes in from the kitchen in time to see her go._

DORA: What's up with her?

DAN (_still at his paper_): Thinks she's been robbed.

DORA: Oh, is that all.... That's the fourth time this month she's thought that. One of these days something _will_ 'appen to her, and will I be pleased? Oh, baby!... Where's Mrs. Terence?

DAN: Gone, I think.

DORA (_frightened_): Oh, law, no! (_Calling_) Mrs. Terence!

MRS. TERENCE (_calling, in the kitchen_): Ye-es!

DORA: You 'aven't gone without me, 'ave you?

MRS. TERENCE (_appearing at the kitchen door, spearing a hatpin into her hat_): Yes, I'm 'alf-way there. What d'you think?

DORA: You did give me a turn! (_Going to the table and taking the box_) I think I'll 'ave a choc. (_Walking towards the hall_) I couldn't 'ave walked a step in those trees all by myself. Coming?

DAN (_suddenly_): I'd have come with you with pleasure, only I'm going the other direction. Payley Hill way.

MRS. TERENCE (_surprised_): _You_ going out?

DORA: Oh?

DAN (_in the hall, putting on hat and mackintosh_): Yes. I still feel a bit funny.

MRS. TERENCE: But you can't leave 'er 'ere by herself!

DORA: She'll scream the place down!

DAN (_over-explanatory_): I asked her, this very minute, and she don't seem to mind. You know what she is. Said it'd do me good, and won't hear of me stayin'. It's no good arguin' with her.

DORA _puts the chocolates down on the occasional table. She and_ MRS. TERENCE _follow_ DAN _into the hall._

DORA: No good arguin' with her--don't I know it!

MRS. TERENCE: You 'ave a nice long walk while you get the chance; you wait on 'er too much.... (_Closing the plush curtains so that they are all out of sight_) Ooh, ain't it dark.... Got the torch, Dora?

DORA: O.K., honey.

MRS. TERENCE: Laws, I'd be frightened goin' off by meself.... Well, we'd best 'urry, Dora.... Good night, Dan. Pity you aren't comin' our way---DAN'S VOICE: See you in the morning! Good night!

DORA'S VOICE: O.K.!... Toodle-oo!

_The door bangs. A pause._

DAN'S VOICE (_outside the left window_): Good night!

MRS. TERENCE'S VOICE (_outside the right window_): Good night!

DORA (_same_): Good night!

_Silence._

MRS. TERENCE (_farther away_): Good night!

DORA (_same_): Good night!

MRS. BRAMSON _comes trundling back from the bedroom in her chair._

MRS. BRAMSON: Good night here, good night there; anybody'd think it was the night before Judgment Day. What's the matter with ... (_Seeing the room is empty_) Talking to myself. Wish people wouldn't walk out of rooms and leave me high and dry. Don't like it. (_She wheels herself round to the table. A pause. She looks round impatiently._) Where's my chocolates?...

_She looks round again, gets up out of her chair for the first time in the play, walks quite normally across the room to the mantelpiece, sees her chocolates are not there, walks up to the occasional table, and takes up the box._

That girl's been at them again....

_She walks back to her chair, carrying the chocolates, and sits in it again. She begins to munch. She suddenly stops, as if she has heard something._

What's that?...

_She listens again. A cry is heard far away._

Oh, God ... Danny!

_The cry is repeated._

Danny!

_The cry is heard a third time._

It's an owl ... Oh, Lord!

_She falls back in relief, and eats another chocolate. The clock strikes the half-hour. Silence. The silence gets on her nerves.

(After a pause, calling softly_) Danny!... (_As there is no answer_) What's the boy doing in that kitchen?

_She takes up the newspaper, sees a headline, and puts it down hastily. She sees the Bible on the table, opens it, and turns over pages.

(After a pause, suddenly_) I've got the jitters. I've got the jitters. I've got the jitters.... (_Calling loudly_) Danny!

_She waits; there is complete silence. She rises, walks over to the kitchen door, and flings it wide open.

(Shouting_) Danny! (_No reply._) He's gone ... They've all gone ... They've left me ... (_Losing control, beating her hands wildly on her Bible_) Oh, Lord, help a poor old woman ... They've left me! (_Tottering to the sun-room_) Danny ... where are you?... Danny ... I'm going to be murdered ... I'm going to be murdered!... Danny ... (_Her voice rising, until she is shrieking hysterically_) Danny! Danny! Danny!

_She stops suddenly. Footsteps on the gravel outside the front door.

(In a strangled whisper_) There's something outside ... something outside ... Oh, heavens ...

(_Staggering across to the sofa_) Danny, where are you? Where are you? There's something outs--

_The front door bangs. She collapses on the sofa, terrified, her enormous Bible clasped to her breast._

Oh, Lord, help me ... help me ... Oh, Lord, help me ... (_Muttering, her eyes closed_) ... Forgive us our trespasses ...

_The curtains are suddenly parted. It is_ DAN, _a cigarette between his lips. He stands motionless, his feet planted apart, holding the curtains. There is murder in his face. She is afraid to look, but is forced to at last._

Danny ... Oh ... Oh ...

DAN (_smiling, suddenly normal and reassuring_): That's all right ... It's only Danny ...

MRS. BRAMSON: Thank God ... (_Going off into laughing hysterics_) Ah ... ah ... ah ...

DAN _throws his cigarette away, lays his hat on the occasional table, throws his mackintosh on the left window-seat, and sits beside her, patting her, looking round to see no one has heard her cries._

I'll never forgive you, never. Oh, my heart ... Oh--oh--oh--

_He runs across to the medicine cupboard and brings back a brandy bottle and two glasses._

DAN: Now have a drop of this ... (_As she winces at the taste_) Go on, do you good ... (_As she drinks_) I am sorry, I am really ... You see, they wanted me to see them to the main path, past the rubbish-heap, see, in case they was frightened. ... Now that's better, isn't it?

_They are seated side by side on the sofa._

MRS. BRAMSON: I don't know yet ... Give me some more....

_He pours one out for her, and for himself. They drink._

All alone, I was ... (_Her face puckering with self pity_) Just an old woman calling for help ... (_her voice breaking_) ... and no answer....

DAN (_putting the bottle on the floor beside him_): Poor old mum, runnin' about lookin' for Danny----

MRS. BRAMSON (_sharply_): I wasn't running about as much as all that ... Oh, the relief when I saw your face----

DAN: I bet you wasn't half glad, eh?

MRS. BRAMSON: You're the only one that understands me, Danny, that's what you are----

DAN (_patting her_): That's right----

MRS. BRAMSON: I don't have to tell you everything I've been through. I don't have to tell you about my husband, how unkind and ungodly he was--I wouldn't have minded so much him being ungodly, but oh, he _was_ unkind ... (_Sipping_) And I don't have to tell _you_ how unkind he was. You know. You just know ... whatever else I've not been, I was _always_ a great one on psychology.

DAN: You was. (_He takes her glass and fills it again and his own._)

MRS. BRAMSON: I'm glad those other people have gone. Awful screeching common women. Answer back, answer back, answer back.... Isn't it time for my medicine?

_He hands her glass back. They both drink._ DAN _sits smiling and nodding at her._

That day you said to me about me reminding you of your mother.... (DAN _slowly begins to roll up his sleeves a little way._) These poets and rubbishy people can think all they like about their verses and sonnets and such--that girl Olivia writes sonnets--would you believe it--

DAN: Fancy.

MRS. BRAMSON: They can think all they like, that was a beautiful thought. (_Her arm on his shoulder_) And when you think you're just an ignorant boy, it's ... it's startling.

DAN (_with a loud laugh_): That's right.

MRS. BRAMSON: I'll never forget that. Not as long as I live ... (_Trying to stem her tears_) I want a chocolate now.

DAN: Right you are!... (_Placing her glass and his own on the floor, and walking briskly to the table_) A nice one with a soft centre, the kind you like.... Why, here's one straight away.... (_He walks slowly to the back of the sofa. In a level voice_) Now shut your eyes ... open your mouth ...

MRS. BRAMSON (_purring_): Oh, Danny.... You're the only one ...

_She shuts her eyes. He stands behind her, and puts the chocolate into her mouth. His fingers close slowly and involuntarily over her neck: she feels his touch, and draws both his hands down, giggling, so that his face almost touches hers._

(_Maudlin_) What strong hands they are.... You're a pet, my little chubby-face, my baby-face, my Danny.... Am I in a draught?

_A pause._ DAN _draws his hands slowly away, walks to the back, and shuts the plush curtains._

I've got to take care of myself, haven't I?

DAN (_turning slowly and looking at her_): You have.

_He picks up the paraffin can briskly and goes towards the kitchen._

MRS. BRAMSON: What are you--

DAN: Only takin' the paraffin tin in the kitchen.

_He goes into the kitchen._

MRS. BRAMSON (_half to herself_): That girl should have carried it in. Anything to annoy me. Tomorrow--(_Turning and seeing that he is gone_) Danny! (_Shrieking suddenly_) Danny!

DAN _runs back from the kitchen._

DAN: What's the matter?

_He looks hastily towards the hall to see no one has heard._

MRS. BRAMSON: Oh, dear, I thought--

DAN (_sitting on the back of the sofa_): I was only putting the paraffin away. Now--(_He leans over the sofa, and raises his arm slowly._)

MRS. BRAMSON (_putting her hand on his arm_): I think I'll go to bed now.

DAN (_after a pause, dropping his arm_): O.K.

MRS. BRAMSON: And I'll have my supper-tray in my room. (_Petulantly_) Get me back into my chair, dear, will you?

DAN (_jerkily_): O.K....

_He crosses to the invalid-chair._

MRS. BRAMSON: Has she put the glass by the bed for my teeth?

DAN (_bringing over the chair_): I put it there myself.

_He helps her into the chair and pulls it over towards the bedroom._

MRS. BRAMSON (_suddenly, in the middle of the room_): I want to be read to now.

DAN (_after a pause of indecision_): O.K. (_Clapping his hands effusively_) What'll you have? The old _East Lynne_?

MRS. BRAMSON: No, I don't feel like anything sentimental to-night....

DAN (_looking towards the desk_): What'll you have, then?

MRS. BRAMSON: I think I'd like the Bible.

_A pause. He looks at her._

DAN: O.K.

MRS. BRAMSON (_as he goes smartly to the sofa, fetches the Bible, pulls up a chair to the right of her, sits, and looks for the place_): That piece you were reading.... It's Sunday.... Isn't that nice ... all the aches and pains quiet for once ... pretty peaceful....

DAN (_reading_): "Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful...."

MRS. BRAMSON (_drowsily_): You read so nicely, Danny.

DAN: Very kind of you, my lady. (_Reading a little breathlessly_) "But his delight is in the Law of the Lord; and in His law doth he meditate day and night--"

MRS. BRAMSON: Sh!

DAN: What?

MRS. BRAMSON: What's that?

DAN: Can you hear something?

MRS. BRAMSON: Yes! A sort of--thumping noise....

_She looks at him suddenly, leans forward, and puts her right hand inside his jacket._

Why, Danny, it's you! It's your heart ... beating!

_He laughs_.

Well! Are you all right, dear?

DAN: Fine. I been running along the path, see.... (_Garrulously_) I been out of training, I suppose; when I was at sea I never missed a day running round the decks, o' course....

MRS. BRAMSON (_sleepily_): Of course.

DAN (_speaking quickly, as if eager to conjure up a vision_): I remember those mornings--on some sea--very misty pale it is, with the sun like breathing silver where he's comin' up across the water, but not blowing on the sea at all ... and the sea-gulls standing on the deck-rail looking at themselves in the water on the deck, and only me about and nothing else ...

MRS. BRAMSON (_nodding sleepily_): Yes ...

DAN: And the sun. Just me and the sun.

MRS. BRAMSON (_nodding_): There's no sun now, dear; it's night!

_A pause. He drums his fingers on the Bible._

DAN: Yes ... it's night now. (_Reading, feverishly_) "The ungodly are not so, but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away----"

MRS. BRAMSON: I think I'll go to bye-byes.... We'll have the rest to-morrow, shall we? (_Testily_) Help me, dear, help me, you know what I am----

DAN (_drumming his fingers: suddenly, urgently_): Wait a minute ... I--I've only got two more verses----

MRS. BRAMSON: Hurry it up, dear. I don't want to wake up in the morning with a nasty cold.

DAN (_reading slowly_): "... Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.... For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous ... But the way of the ungodly ... shall perish ..."

_A pause. He shuts the Bible loudly, and lays it on the table._ MRS. BRAMSON _can hardly keep awake._

That's the end.

MRS. BRAMSON: Is it?... Ah, well, it's been a long day----

DAN: Are you quite comfortable?

MRS. BRAMSON: A bit achy. Glad to get to bed. Hope that woman's put my bottle in all right. Bet she hasn't----

DAN: Sure you're comfortable? Wouldn't you like a cushion back of your head?

MRS. BRAMSON: No, dear, just wheel me----

DAN (_rising_): I think you'll be more comfortable with a cushion. (_Rising, humming_) "I'm a pretty little feller, everybody knows ... dunno what to call me ..."

_He goes deliberately across, humming, and picks up a large black cushion from the sofa. His hands close on the cushion, and he stands silent a moment. He moves slowly back to the other side of her; he stands looking at her, his back three-quarters to the audience and his face hidden: he is holding the cushion in both hands._

MRS. BRAMSON _shakes herself out of sleep and looks at him._

MRS. BRAMSON: What a funny look on your face, dear. Smiling like that.... (_Foolishly_) You look so kind ...

_He begins to raise the cushion slowly._

So kind ... (_Absently_) What are you going to do with that cushion?...

_The lights dim gradually into complete darkness, and the music grows into a thunderous crescendo._