Can You Hear Me Mother. (4)
Lucy: Mr Serf at Ramsgate. Said his name was Clarence. George: Clarence? More like a Cecil to me. Lucy: Told me all sorts of funny stories. George: Bit simple if you ask me. One card short of a pack. Lucy: What’s that bird there? (Points to the page again.) George: Woodpecker. Green woodpecker. You can hear them in the woods in the country. I love the country. Wish I could retire there. Lucy: Why is it called a woodpecker? George: Because it pecks holes in trees. Enid: He’s asked me out to the opera. Nellie: Opera? You? Now I’ve heard it all. All that highbrow stuff isn’t for you. You’ll get bored with all that screaming in Italian, from fat old girls in big dresses, with breasts like a cliff edge. Enid: It’s not as you say. Ronald says it’s part of our culture. I want to get beyond the little world around here. I want to experience more. Experience things that are new to me. Nellie: It isn’t your world, Enid. It’s theirs. It’s them and us. Enid: You sound like a blooming communist. Nellie: No need to insult me with comments like that. I’m just saying how things are and always have been. There’s them and us. Rich and poor. Highbrows and lowbrows. Enid: And evermore shall be so? Nellie: Yes, evermore shall be so. Nothing will ever change it. George: What doesn’t change stays as it is. That’s what they say. Lucy: Things do change. Things are always changing. Nothing stays as it is. If it did, I’d stay a child and not have to put up with all the things that women have to put up with. I could be a child until I died. Enid: Art is an expression of experience. Ronald says so. Nellie: Ronald can say what he likes. He sounds a right know all to me. Enid: You haven’t met him to judge. Nellie: Not likely to either if you have your way. George: I knew this posh girl years ago when I had this chauffeur job out in Kent. She was all airs and graces and what not, but she wasn’t too posh to go off to the stables with Kenny Pickles. Nellie: Kenny Pickles? What May Pickles husband? George: Yes, that’s him. Nellie: Poor girl she was. He led her a life he did. Those kids of hers were always on the streets in the evenings scrounging food from friends or neighbours. And there’s him playing away from home with some posh tart. Lucy: I was happy as a child. George: He was always up to something or other. Lost his job in the end. Nellie: Serves him right. Enid: You can meet him if you want to, providing you don’t go and show me up by putting him down. George: He was killed in the blitz when he was out one night with some woman in the East End. Nellie: Good riddance to him. Poor old girl. I think she ended up in some asylum somewhere and her kids were taken into care. What a life they had those poor blighters. Enid: He’s a nice man. Best I’ve met yet. No hands everywhere. No tongues down your throat nonsense. Lucy: Jude says I need to grow up and see life as it really is. Nellie: This Jude of yours needs a kick up the backside. You stay as you are, Lucy, dear. Don’t let him spoil you for others. Enid: I want to see an opera. I want to see paintings in galleries. I’m fed up with a wrestling match in the back seat of the cinema. I’m passed that. I want better. (Pause.) George: Do you remember that time when old Albert Duffy and his wife were sitting in their kitchen and the siren went? Nellie: Yes. And he says to her “Come on old girl the siren’s gone off!” And there she is looking under the table and everywhere. And he says “What you looking for?” “My false teeth,” she says. And he says” They’re dropping bombs, you silly cow, not mince pies.” Enid: Their budgie was still in its cage sitting on its perch even though the house had been hit. I remember that well. It looked all dusty. Lucy: Jude respects me. He wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. George: There were some sights to be seen those days. That Mrs Lumbeck’s daughter was in the shop when a bomb went off near by. Only found her hand. And that was across the road in the butcher’s shop window. Nellie: Put me off my meals for weeks that did. Enid: Mrs Lumbeck’s husband was a teacher at our school before the War. He was funny man. Had weird eyes. Thin as a pipe cleaner and a squeaky voice. Lucy: Kissing’s all right. George: Funny life this. Don’t know what’s going to happen next. (George looks at his book. Enid sits back and holds the book in her lap. Nellie closes her eyes. Lucy looks at George’s book cover absentmindedly. Silence.) End of Scene Three. Act Two. Scene Four. Half hour later. All sitting as before, except Nellie as a photograph album and holds it on her lap. Nellie: And this here is your mum, Lucy. Standing by your grandad’s side, looking as if she’d stolen a bag of sweets from the shop. George: What did you want to get that old album out for? Nellie: To bring back memories. George: I don’t need my memories brought back, they haven’t been anywhere. Enid: That’s me on your lap, Mum. Looking all innocent and sweet. Nellie: Probably filled your nappy. Lucy: Do I look like my mum when she was my age? Nellie: Not a lot. She was taller and had darker hair. George: Photographs never tell a lie, they say, but I think they can. I look blooming happy in that photograph, but I know for a fact I wasn’t, because I had piles at the time and they were murder to sit on. Enid: Trust Dad to raise the tone of our conversation and memories. George: Just saying what it was like. Lucy: Auntie Freda looks all-important there. (Looks at photograph as Enid takes the album from Nellie.) Enid: She still thinks she’s Cock of the North. Lucy: Cock of the North? Enid: It’s a saying, Lucy. Means she thinks she’s important. Nellie: I remember the first bloke she brought home. He had a squint and one leg shorter than the other. I thought she’d been to the circus and brought home one of the clowns. George: And he spoke with a lisp. Fair had us in fits when he asked for Freda. Enid: He was nice. Wasn’t his fault he had a lisp. Lucy: What happened to him? Nellie: She gave him the elbow after a few months. I think he was taken prisoner during the war. Don’t think the Germans got much out of him. George: That was his brother, Harry. That’s the one Freda had her eyes on, but she landed up with Dick. That’s you, Nellie, with one of those dresses you used to wear on the stage. Makes my lips water. Nellie: I’ll make your eyes water in a minute if you don’t be quiet. George: She was a real good dancer was our Nellie. Those legs could nearly touch the ceiling. Nellie: You’ll touch the ceiling in a minute. He was a blooming pest your grandad was. Always outside the stage door with his bunch of flowers and chocolates and dreaming eyes. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. I felt sorry for him standing there with that sad look on his face and those bloodhound eyes. George: I didn’t have bloodhound eyes. It was the cold weather outside that stage door. Fair froze my manhood away it did. Enid: Talk about Romeo and Juliet. Makes me want to cry. (Pretends to cry.) Lucy: It’s romantic. I wish Jude were like that about me. Nellie: He looked quite smart in uniform. Dressed up like a dog’s dinner. One of Kitchener’s Army with that nose of his. George: What’s wrong with my nose? Nellie: Too much of it. Like one of the Lost Tribe of Moses. Enid: It’s the Lost Tribe of Israel, Mum. Nellie: Same thing in the end all got noses on them. George: It’s a family heirloom is this nose. Goes back generations. Nellie: Glad it missed our girls. What would they do with a nose like that? Lucy: Jude’s not romantic. He says he’s a realist. Enid: What he means is a mindless moron. Nellie: Our girls follow after my side of the family. They have my looks. George: If the girls had your looks, they’d all be unmarried and locked away in some Anglican convent. Nellie: Blooming cheek. I was well known for my beauty on the stage. Had blokes lining up to go out with me. George: Yes and leaving there white sticks by the stage door as they hobbled inside. Enid: These young blokes think they’re God’s gift. Most of them have the manners of pigs and the brains of an ant. Lucy: Clarence was understanding. He knew when I was lonely and always gave me sweets and a cuddle. Nellie: You were the one, George who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Always there with your flowers and that broken-hearted look around your eyes. Felt sorry for you I did. Poor blighter, I thought. Poor miserable blighter. George: I was young and impressionable. Nellie: You were wet behind the ears and head over heels in love with me. Enid: You be careful about these blokes, Lucy. They promise you the earth and give you grief. Lucy: I’ll be careful, Auntie Enid. I’ll be ever so careful. George: I was led a stray. Taken in by your beauty and charm. And now look at me. Lucy: I won’t let them do what I don’t want to do. Enid: Good for you, Lucy, good for you. Keep the buggers in check. Nellie: That’s right, Lucy dear, Keep yourself for Mr. Right. Lucy: I don’t know a Mr.Right. Jude’s name is Lawrence. Nellie: Never mind, just be careful and keep your legs crossed. Enid: You should have been a social worker, Mum. Lucy: Legs crossed? George: Where’s that bird book gone? Enid: You’re sitting on it. George: So I am. Silly old me. (Lifts book from beneath him and opens it.) Nellie: Never spoke a truer word. George: Look at the kettle calling the pot black. Lucy: Why have I to cross my legs? Enid: Better to keep your virtue. George: This here is a house marten. (Points to the page.) Lucy: My virtue? Enid: Your purity, Lucy. Nellie: Yes your maidenhood. George: This here house marten has a lovely wing. Nellie: Keep them at bay young Lucy until you’re ready to marry. George: And of course, here, the song thrush. (Points at the page again.) Beautiful singer. Enid: Talking about purity. Do you remember during the War when that German plane machine-gunned up Peckham Rye Lane and then went off and shot those children in the school playground? Nellie: Don’t remind me, Enid. That was a sad day for many a parent that was round here. Bloody Germans. Innocent little mites hadn’t done anyone any harm. Playing out in their lunch hour. Shot them as if they were his bloody enemy. (Gets a handkerchief from her dress pocket and wipes her nose and eyes.) My friend Mary lost her little boy there. Can still see her now, poor cow. Shaking like a leaf, she was. Haven’t seen anyone cry as she cried that day. George: That was a black day round here. Enid: I was away that day with stomach pains. Do you remember, Mum? Nellie: I’ve never forgotten that. You could have been one of those. Lucy: Sounds awful. George: Was awful. Nellie: Bloody awful. Enid: My best friend, Ann died. (Pause. Silence. George looks down at his book of birds. Nellie wipes her eyes again. Enid sighs deeply. Lucy stares at her feet.) George: Magpies are the ones you have to watch. They steal shiny objects. Nellie: The things people do in wartime. The things we saw, George. Enid: Time passes. People move on. Now the Germans are our friends so they say. Nellie: I won’t forget them poor little mites. Lucy: Dad says war makes people do things they would never do otherwise. Nellie: All those little coffins. George: Lovely wings, black and white. Enid: War is one of those things that come like an illness. It affects everybody in some way or other. George: Must we talk of war? Birds are more peaceful. Nellie: That school is etched in my memory for life. Poor little kids. (Pause. All become silent. George looks at his book. Nellie sniffs and wipes her eyes. Enid stares at the photograph album and Lucy stares at the cover of George’s book in deep t End Of Scene Four. Act Two. Scene Five. Late evening. All books and albums have been put away. All sit where they were previously. George: And Sally wore that dress which none of her sisters would want to borrow even if she threw in a free ticket to the theatre with Clark Gable. Enid: Sally’s dress sense is unique. Nellie: She’s her own person. She doesn’t go in for fashion. Enid: Only old fashion. Lucy: Mum asked me to ask you if I could stay the night. I would have mentioned it before but I was too shy to. Nellie: Should have said before, Lucy. George: Shy of us? We’re family. No need to be shy of us. Enid: Sally’s old room’s ready. Bed’s made and aired. Nellie: Course you can stay. Should have asked. Silly girl. Too shy that’s your problem. George: Nothing wrong is there? Nellie: No problem we can help you with is there? Lucy: No, nothing wrong. Just want to stay until tomorrow evening. Enid: You would say if something was wrong wouldn’t you? Lucy: Yes. Nothing’s wrong. I’m all right. Nellie: Good. Don’t mind you staying, do we, George? George: Stay as long as you like. We don’t mind. Fresh blood amongst us. Keeps us young. Enid: Yes, Sally’s room’s ready. Nellie: Remember young Sally’s first boyfriend? George: Yes, shy as a nun in a strip club. Enid: He was nice he was. Had lovely eyes. Nellie: He’d stand outside for ages before getting up enough courage to knock at the door. Talk about tongue-tied. He spoke so softly you’d need a hearing aid to hear the bugger. (Pause.)He was a nice boy though. Need more like him in the world. Might make it a better place. He and Sally would have made a good pair. Don’t know why she never went out with him after that weekend away. George: Might have had something to with his mother going with them. Enid: She’d not let them go alone to Margate. Nellie: We would have let our Sally go alone. Enid: Yes because you trusted her to do nothing she shouldn’t do. Lucy: I’m looking forward to going to Ramsgate again. I wonder if Clarence has changed much? George: Sally’s a good girl. She’d never do what she felt to be wrong, not even if the lad had tried it on. Nellie: He’d not try on anything on. He was too shy to knock at the door let alone try anything on with Sally. It took him a few weeks to kiss her. Lucy: I’ve changed. George: Elsie’s another who knew what was what. A good girl with her head screwed on right. Enid: I can’t wait for you to you get to me. (Smiles.) Nellie: You were a right tearaway. Out all hours. Blokes knocking at the door for you with gifts and sweet words and still you kept them waiting. Enid: Never could see much in that lot. All too shortsighted. Too ordinary. Nellie: Whom did you expect? Prince blooming Charming? Lucy: Fifteen now. Not nine anymore. Not a girl anymore. George: Elsie knew what she wanted. She wanted a better life. Nellie: You were always a little menace. Enid: Can’t say I noticed it at the time. Now I do. I was a bitch. Nellie: Too right you were. Lucy: I hope I get my old room again. George: Proud of my girls I am. Fine bunch. Fine girls. A man can be proud of them. Nellie: You were more trouble then all the others put together. Enid: I was I know. However, that was then, this is now, and here I am wanting something better and wanting to be better. Nellie: Well don’t aim to high and come down with a crash. Be yourself my girl, be yourself. George: Yes, be what you are. Be what you are and not what other’s think you should be. Lucy: Nice room. Clarence said it was a nice room. Said I was a nice girl too. Enid: I want what is out there in the world. I want culture and art. I want a husband who respects me and loves me for myself. Nellie: Hope you get what you want, but don’t aim too high. It’s along way down to earth from the clouds. Enid: I want only what I feel is mine to have. I don’t want cloud nine. (Pause. Looks at Lucy. She smiles s at her.)You look tired, Lucy. Best go to bed. I’ll show you the way. (Lucy nods and rises from the sofa. Enid rises too and both walk upper stage door.) Lucy: Night, Nan. Night, Grandad. Nellie: Night, night, dear, sleep well. George: Night, night, Lucy. Enid: See you later. (Both Lucy and Enid leave the room.) George: Good girl she is. Nellie: Bit quiet, but good. George: Ramsgate seems the choice this year. See the old place again. Nellie: See the old place and familiar faces. Strange bloke that Serf. Bit touched, but harmless. She’s all right. She’s got her head on straight. George: Bit of a dragon she is, but he’s few slices short of a loaf. Nellie: Ramsgate it is. George: Lovely seabirds. Lovely seabirds. (Pause. George sits and looks at the floor. Nellie looks at George, smiles softly, and shakes her head. Silence.) End of Act Two and Scene Five.
Copyright © 2005 Terry Collett |