Humble Boy Page 5

  Rosie I don’t remember the conversation ever being steered in the direction of my life.

  Felix I’m sorry – I wasn’t thinking. Tell me about your … baby.

  Rosie (curt) Well, she’s not a baby any more, thank you for asking.

  Felix Oh. Right. I’m sorry – I’d forgotten – not forgotten – it had slipped my – I can’t imagine you – with a child –

  Rosie Thank you.

  Felix No, I mean – I don’t know what I mean. I’m sorry.

  Rosie So you did know about her?

  Felix Yes. Yes. My mother told me you’d had a child, not long after –

  Rosie (quickly, quietly) No, not long after.

  Felix But I was in the middle of, you know – and I should have written to congratulate you – but I didn’t know if it was appropriate.

  Rosie No.

  Felix How old is she now?

  Rosie (slowly, looking at Felix) She’s nearly seven. Her name is Felicity. And yes, she’s just like her father.

  Felix What? What? Rosie? Are you saying…?

  Rosie For someone who is supposed to have a brilliant mind, you really are slow on the uptake, aren’t you?

  Felix But my mother said – she said you’d – she said you were with –

  He trails off. Rosie smiles wryly.

  Rosie And Felix always believes everything his mother tells him. (She goes to go.) I’ll see you around.

  Felix Wait, Rosie. I need to talk about this. You can’t just –

  Rosie Felix, do your trousers up, eh?

  Rosie exits. Felix stands there. He does his trousers up slowly. The humming starts again but it is more dissonant now. The humming increases in volume.

  Felix I can’t be her – I’m not a – I don’t even have a –

  He lies himself face down on the lawn on his stomach by his father’s ashes. He stretches himself out.

  Suddenly a light is shone in his face. He looks up blinkingly. Jim, the gardener walks on. He is holding a torch and a packet of salt. He walks up to Felix lying in the middle of the lawn. The humming starts to recede or become more harmonious.

  Jim Hello. (He shows him the salt.) I was just looking for slugs.

  Felix (indicating himself) Bingo.

  He holds out a hand and helps him up. Jim shines his torchlight once more round the garden. It is almost black except for the torchlight. He shines the torch on the hive. He lingers for a moment. Then the light snaps off. The humming stops.

  End of Act One.

  Act Two

  Late summer.

  As for the first act, except now the garden is set for a party. There is a large table which has been laid for five people. Flora has gone to quite a lot of effort. During this act the light fades very slowly.

  Jim is there. He is tidying up round the garden. He sees the pot of ashes on the floor. He absently picks it up and places it on the table. He exits at the same time as Mercy enters. Perhaps he makes way for her.

  Mercy comes out, carrying a very large bowl of soup, with a ladle. Her shoes are a little too high and she proceeds with extreme caution. She is dressed rather eccentrically for the party and in a state of excitement.

  Mercy (shouts back towards the house) I can manage! (She places the soup and ladle on the table. Shouts back:) Oh it looks heavenly out here, Flora. (She puts out her hand to check for rain. Shouts back:) I think it’ll hold out, you know. (She adjusts several settings on the table. Shouts back:) We’re a chair short, Flora. (She waits for a response. There is no response. She sighs, looks around and sees the gardening chair that Jim sat on earlier. She brings it over to the table. It is considerably shorter than the other chairs.) That’ll do for me.

  Then she tastes the soup. She wrinkles her face, indicating that the soup needs something. She spots the ashes, which are now next to the salt cellar on the table. First of all she adds a little salt. Then she takes the lid off the honey-pot and sees what she thinks is pepper. She takes a sprinkle and adds it to the soup. She tastes again. She is still not sure. She adds a bigger handful. She tastes. She is more pleased.

  George enters. He looks dapper. He carries flowers and a bottle of champagne. He comes up behind Mercy and pinches her bum. Mercy is absolutely delighted. She is obviously infatuated with George.

  George There she is, the little corker!

  Mercy George!

  George Looks delicious.

  Mercy Gazpacho. Although I held back on the pimentos. I’m worried it hasn’t got enough zing.

  George Gazpacho! Where did you learn to make that?

  Mercy Oh, I just followed a –

  George Don’t tell me, Spanish Civil War?

  Mercy What?

  George Don’t try and fool me. I can see through the innocent act, Mercy Lott. You were out there with Franco, giving it some.

  Mercy giggles, hits him playfully. She revels in this attention.

  Mercy (laughing) You know I’ve hardly even been outside the Cotswolds.

  George Balls! We’ve got a little red under the bed, haven’t we? She’s only small but she’s at the nub of things. Cuban Missile Crisis. Fall of the Berlin Wall. There she is in the background, waving. Cooee!

  Mercy You do tickle me, really you do.

  George Where’s the main girl?

  Mercy Inside making the salad. I did the starter and the pudding. To help Flora out, you know. I’ve done my fig tart.

  George Well, bugger me.

  Mercy giggles.

  I hope you’re not intent on giving us all the trots.

  Mercy laughs.

  Mercy No. Although I say it myself I think it’s quite a good one. I added a little twist, marinated the figs in honey and thyme.

  George I’d better go in to her.

  Mercy Oh yes, listen to me wittering on.

  He claps his hands together and rubs them gleefully.

  George I’m looking forward to this. (He goes to go.)

  Mercy George – don’t you think it will rain? I said to Flora that it wouldn’t because she’s cross, you know, at it not being sunny, but I think it might.

  George Nothing is going to spoil this day. Where’s Little Lord Fauntleroy?

  Mercy He’s getting changed.

  George So he’s going to make an effort, then?

  Mercy Oh, I think so.

  George He’d better keep his arse in check, or there’ll be hell to pay.

  Flora enters behind them. She looks immaculate.

  George My chérie, look at you, I could eat you up.

  Mercy (a little forced) Leave some room for my fig tart.

  George Bunny girl.

  He ignores Mercy, embraces Flora, kisses her hand. Mercy looks away, embarrassed.

  Mercy Those black clouds are blowing over now.

  Flora We’re not going to have any upset today. We’re going to be civilised. Felix has told me he’s going to behave and so will you.

  George I’m always civilised. (He hands her the flowers.)

  Flora Thank you. (She smells them. She looks momentarily troubled.)

  George What is it?

  Mercy Shall I put them in a vase for you?

  Flora Yes. And give Felix a shout, will you?

  Mercy exits.

  I don’t know why she thought she was invited.

  George (intense, sexual) Hello, bunny.

  George immediately tries to steal a moment with Flora. She is evasive.

  Flora And George, you can go and get the wine out of the fridge. Then once Rosie arrives we’ll be more or less there.

  George What is it?

  Flora It looks like we’ve seen the last of summer.

  George What’s wrong, bunny?

  Flora I just want it all to go well.

  George It will. This is the beginning of everything for us.

  Flora Yes. Yes.

  They kiss.

  You will see to the wine though?

  George Don’t worry. (He exits singing.)

  Love
is in the air, everywhere you look around

  Love is in the air, every sight and every sound –

  Flora smiles. She is left on her own. She looks around the garden, shivers slightly. She checks the table, moves a few things that Mercy had rearranged. Then she sees the pot of ashes.

  Flora Oh Felix.

  She is about to move it when Rosie enters and interrupts her. She puts the pot back down.

  Rosie Hello, Mrs Humble.

  Flora Rosie. I’m glad you could come. It’s a crime we see so little of each other.

  They think about it and then embrace awkwardly. Rosie hands her a bottle of wine.

  Rosie I’m not sure if it’s a very nice one.

  Flora looks at the label dubiously.

  Flora Actually I never drink Italian white. It doesn’t agree with me. But I’m sure we can find a use for it.

  Rosie smiles knowingly, nods. Their chat is stilted.

  Take a seat. The others will be out in a minute.

  Rosie doesn’t sit.

  Rosie The garden looks lovely.

  Flora I’m worried it’s going to rack and ruin.

  Rosie The flowers smell wonderful.

  Flora Do they? This summer I don’t seem to be able to – How is the nursing?

  Rosie I’m training to be a midwife now.

  Flora Your father said. How lovely.

  Rosie Yes. Although I get sick of the dads. The weeping and overwhelmed fathers. I could do without them.

  Flora Mmm.

  Rosie Probably because I had to go through it all on my own.

  Flora Yes. (She knows her name very well.) How is…?

  Rosie Felicity.

  Flora Oh, yes. I should remember that.

  Rosie She’s tremendous, in a little alien kind of way. At the moment her mission in life is to part her hair in the middle, in a perfect, undeviating straight line.

  Flora You should have brought her.

  Rosie I don’t think so. I’m still at the protective stage.

  Pause.

  Flora I would have liked to have a daughter. I was convinced mine was going to be a little Jennifer. I knitted ferociously in pink. But it turned out to be a Felix.

  Rosie Felicity is desperate for a little brother.

  Flora I only had one viable fallopian tube and that had to be blown through. After Felix was born, I decided to rest on my laurels. It’s a funny thing, realising that you are no longer the heroine of your own life.

  Rosie Mmm.

  Flora (awkward) You must bring her round another day. Let her play in the garden.

  Rosie looks at her a moment.

  Rosie You didn’t tell him that Felicity was his daughter. He didn’t know.

  Flora (carefully) I told him the facts as I knew them. I thought if there was something important to say, that you would say it.

  Rosie In your infinite wisdom.

  Flora As far as I remember, just after Felix left you seemed to have rather a lot of male friends. In any case we didn’t really talk about you.

  Rosie No, of course not. It must have been a relief. I didn’t cut the mustard, did I? Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’m very much of the ‘fuck you, Mrs Humble’ line of thinking. It just makes all this today a little bit ironic, doesn’t it?

  George re-enters with the chilled wine, followed by Mercy, who has put the flowers in a vase. She places them on the table. George makes a huge fuss of Rosie.

  Rosie Here he is. Romeo himself. Hello, Mercy.

  Mercy Hello, dear. Don’t you look pretty?

  George She’s not a looker but she’s got character and I love her.

  Rosie Thanks for that, Dad.

  Mercy How’s little Felicity?

  Rosie She’s a ball of energy.

  George (discreetly to Rosie) You’re feeling okay? About –

  Rosie I’m fine.

  George That’s my girl.

  Rosie Let’s have some wine.

  George Yes, let’s get this party on the road. (George starts to pour the wine.)

  Mercy Not too much for me.

  Flora Where’s Felix?

  Mercy Oh, I gave him a shout and he says he’s coming. He was just sorting out the post.

  Flora (bewildered) The post?

  George ushers Flora to sit.

  George Come on. Let’s not worry. He’ll be down in a minute, I’m sure.

  Flora and Rosie sit.

  Rosie Sit next to me, Mercy.

  Mercy Oh, thank you, dear.

  George seats himself at the head of the table opposite Flora. The only seat left is the small gardening stool.

  George First of all I’d like to propose a toast. Raise your glasses. To Flora and her future happiness.

  As they raise and drink their glasses, Felix enters. He is wearing the suit that Mercy got him from the charity shop. It is far too small for him. His ankles and wrists are very much on display. It is, in fact, one of his father’s old suits. When Flora sees him she nearly chokes on her wine. The others react strongly.

  Felix Oh, wait for me. I don’t want to miss anything. (He snatches up a glass and raises it. It is empty.)

  George (sotto voce) Jesus Christ.

  Rosie (amused) I think you ought to review your capsule wardrobe, Felix.

  Mercy I told you it would be an odd fit.

  Flora Where did you get that?

  Felix From the charity shop.

  Mercy I could take the hems up.

  Flora (to Felix) How could you?

  Mercy It won’t take five minutes.

  George What is it? Bunny, what’s wrong?

  Felix helps himself to a glass of wine.

  Flora It’s James’s suit. He’s wearing his dead father’s suit.

  Mercy Oh. Oh, dear.

  Felix I wanted to be smart for you, Mother.

  Rosie Come on then, give us a twirl.

  Felix You can never be overdressed, according to my mother.

  George Take it off.

  Felix And also there is a deplorable lack of good, affordable millinery around these days. Isn’t that right?

  Flora Just ignore it, George. It’s fine. Fine. We’re going to have a pleasant day. I’m not going to get upset. It suits you, Felix. Very grunge, darling. (She takes a sip of wine.)

  Felix What’s on the menu?

  Mercy Gazpacho soup.

  Felix Yummy.

  Mercy I’ve never made it before. I hope it’s all right.

  Felix goes and sits on the stool. He barely reaches the table.

  Flora Please find yourself a more suitable chair.

  George He’s fine.

  Felix Oh yes, I’m fine. Suitably low status.

  George Come on then.

  Mercy Let me serve it up.

  Felix (to Rosie, a little awkward) How is Felicity?

  Rosie Fine. She’s at a friend’s birthday party.

  George Causing havoc, no doubt.

  Mercy gets up and starts to ladle the soup out. She goes round the table.

  George All right, bunny?

  Felix Sorry. Point of order. Sorry. Can I just inquire about that? Call me old-fashioned but I’m afraid it troubles me. My mother being referred to, even affectionately, as a rabbit.

  George She likes it.

  Flora And it’s very accurate, Felix.

  Felix What?

  Flora For a brief and rather enjoyable period in the early sixties, I was a bunny girl.

  George Complete with fluffy tail.

  Rosie (under her breath) That makes sense.

  Felix What happened? Did you contract myxomatosis?

  Flora No, I married your father and he brought me here to Moreton-in-the-Mud to rot my life away. The world did not begin at your conception, Felix, as troubling as that may seem … Did you say something, Rosie?

  Rosie This looks lovely, Mrs Humble.

  Flora Mercy made it.

  Rosie Mmm. I must get the recipe.

  Flora Of course I was thrillingly thin in those
days. Before my son robbed me of my figure.

  Mercy goes to serve Flora.

  Not for me. I won’t have any, thank you.

  Mercy Oh Flora. Please.

  Flora I’m not really hungry. I don’t seem to have much of an appetite these days.

  Felix You’re anosmic.

  Flora What?

  Mercy Anaemic?

  Felix Anosmic.

  Rosie You mean anorexic.

  Felix No. Anosmia. No sense of smell. It affects the appetite.

  Flora What?

  George She’s not fucking anosmic.

  Rosie Dad.

  Mercy Perhaps it’s because of the nose job.

  Felix It’s not because of the nose job.

  Rosie You’ve had a nose job?

  Flora I haven’t had a nose job. I have had my nose slightly rephrased. That is all.

  George And she’s not fucking anosmic. If she was fucking anosmic, I’d be the first to know about it.

  Felix Thing about George, he can always be called upon for an elegant turn of phrase.

  George Piss off.

  Mercy Does anyone want bread with it?

  Felix You have been anosmic, Mother, since the day my father died.

  Rosie No thank you, Mercy.

  George Why don’t you take a running jump? Preferably in close proximity to a cliff.

  Flora George.

  Felix Do you think that’s the best way?

  George What?

  Felix No, really, I’m interested. What is the best way to do yourself in, so to speak? More wine, Mother?

  Flora proffers her glass. Felix goes round refilling for everyone.

  Rosie Pills. But not paracetomol. They’re too slow and they do funny things to your liver.

  Felix So speaks the nurse.

  Rosie The worst is drinking sulphuric acid. You burn yourself inside out.

  Mercy I really don’t think we should be talking about this at the table.

  Flora I’d put my head in a gas oven.

  Felix Ah. The housewife’s choice.

  Flora Anything is preferable to cleaning it.

  Mercy I’ve got an Aga.

  Rosie It doesn’t work any more.

  Mercy Well. It’s a bit temperamental to light.

  Rosie No, I mean, you can’t do it with a gas oven. They changed it so you can’t.

  Flora Killjoys.

  Mercy I don’t think you could do it with an Aga either. No.

  George (slowly, considered) A length of hose. Easy.

  Felix (sharp) What?

  George Only way to do it. In the car. A length of hose from the exhaust pipe. Wind the window up. A glass of whisky in my hand and Glen Miller on the stereo. I’d have an upbeat number first. ‘Chattanooga Choo-Choo’ or ‘Pennsylvania 6–5000’. Followed by ‘Moonlight Serenade’. I’d just drift off. Easy.