Mediterranean Nights (29 page)

W
ENDY
: You wouldn't dare.

R
OBERT
: I'm not so sure about that.

M
OTHER
: You'll do no such thing, my boy. Remember your father's heart.

R
OBERT
: Do we ever get a chance to forget it?

M
OTHER
: Robert! that's most unkind.

R
OBERT
: No, it's not. But it isn't fair. Every time anybody wants to do anything in this house Father's heart gets dragged in. I'm not allowed to smoke, Wendy's not allowed out after ten o'clock at night, you're not allowed to have the wireless on when he's at home. And we mustn't say a word in protest—not a word, because of Father's heart, Father's heart, Father's heart! It's the limit!

M
OTHER
(
replacing her knitting in bag and rising from table
): My boy, you know quite well that the doctor says the least excitement might be fatal to him, and he's been a good father to you children even if he is a little strict in his ways. It's only your good that he has at heart, so you must learn to give way to his wishes without complaining. And now I must make those girdle scones or they won't be done for tea. (
Exit.)

[R
OBERT
stands up and begins to walk moodily up and down the room again
.]

W
ENDY
: What is the matter with you today, Robert?

R
OBERT
: I'm in a hell of a mess.

W
ENDY
: Well, I can't lend you any more money—I'm broke myself.

R
OBERT
: Oh, it's not money this time. It's worse.

W
ENDY
: What on earth have you done now?

R
OBERT
: Got the sack.

W
ENDY
: Robert!

R
OBERT
: Jolly, isn't it? That old swine Briggs caught me trying to write a short story in the office. I wasn't quick enough to push it under the ledger.

W
ENDY
: My dear, there will be a blinding row.

R
OBERT
: Don't I know it!

W
ENDY
: Better tell Father yourself before he has a chance to see Briggs.

R
OBERT
: I suppose so—but, by Jove, it needs some pluck.

W
ENDY
: It will be worse if he finds out. Besides, after all what can he do? He can't beat you.

R
OBERT
: No, but sometimes I wish he would. I think I'd rather take a licking than stand there while he stares at me
with those round eyes of his. It makes me go cold all over.

W
ENDY
: Yes. It's not even what he says so much, it's just the way he looks at you. We are idiots to be so scared of him at our age, but I suppose it's habit. Every time there is a row I make up my mind to face it out, but somehow I just can't. I'm terrified of him.

R
OBERT
(
fiercely
): God, how I hate that man! I wish he'd have his damned heart attack and die.

W
ENDY
(
in feeble protest
): Oh, Robert, you mustn't say that sort of thing.

R
OBERT
: I mean it. Honestly, Wendy. I know it's wrong, and all that, but I do—and it's his fault. He's got no right to make our lives a misery just because he's our father. Think how different everything would be if he did pass out.

W
ENDY
: Well, he won't. He's far too careful of himself, so it's no good thinking about it.

R
OBERT
: If only I'd got some money I'd clear out. You know what it's like after a row—the house will be like a morgue for a fortnight. Everybody going about on tiptoe with that awful atmosphere of disapproval: ‘Hush! Hush! Robert's been a naughty boy and he mustn't be allowed to forget it.' You know the sort of thing.

W
ENDY
(
with sudden bitterness
): Well, what's a fortnight? You don't know what real trouble is.

R
OBERT
(
turning and looking at her quickly
): Hullo! you in trouble, too?

[
A bell rings in the hall
.]

W
ENDY
: That's the front door. I'll go. (
Exit.)

[
Re-enter
W
ENDY
with
C
HARLES
W
ILLMOTT
.]

C
HARLES
: Afternoon, Robert. How are you?

R
OBERT
: Rotten. I've lost my job.

C
HARLES
: I say! Does the old man know?

R
OBERT
: Not yet, so for the lord's sake don't say anything.

C
HARLES
(
leading
W
ENDY
to sofa, where both sit down
): Trust me, not a word. (
To
W
ENDY
): And how's the dream girl?

W
ENDY
: Not too good, but better for seeing her Bonnie Prince Charlie.

R
OBERT
(
staring moodily out of window
): Tweet, tweet!

W
ENDY
: Shut up, Robert.

[R
OBERT
takes no notice
. C
HARLES
looks quickly at
W
ENDY
,
then at
R
OBERT
'S
back, and then again at

W
ENDY
.]

C
HARLES
: Your father's not in, is he?

W
ENDY
: No.

C
HARLES
: That's good.

W
ENDY
: He will be soon, though, and you know how it is. I can't ask you to stay to tea because he says strangers excite him.

C
HARLES
(
looking impatiently at
R
OBERT
'S
back
): No—I know. I only dropped in just to—well, to see you for a minute and bring you these. (
Produces a box of chocolates)

W
ENDY
(
taking box and opening it
): Oh, you darling—

C
HARLES
: No, thanks, dear.

W
ENDY
: Robert?

R
OBERT
(
still gazing out of window
): What?

W
ENDY
: Chocolate?

R
OBERT
: Thanks. (C
HARLES
carries box over to him)
Thanks, old chap. (
Takes one and turns back towards window
. C
HARLES
,
standing beside him, picks up the bottle of Thyroid from the window table.)

C
HARLES
(
reading bottle
): ‘One grain equals five grains desiccated.' Who's taking Thyroid?

W
ENDY
: Mother. It's her latest stunt for reducing.

R
OBERT
(
chanting, with his back still turned
): And, my dear, I lost seven pounds in a fortnight. I can even eat potatoes now.

C
HARLES
(
replacing bottle
): Tricky stuff to monkey with. But I suppose it's all right if you haven't got a heart. (
Walks back to
W
ENDY
.)

R
OBERT
(
turning slowly round
): Why?

C
HARLES
: Thyroid's like poison for anyone with a heart. One dose would be enough to bring on an attack—kill them stone dead.

R
OBERT
(
turning back to window
): Well, Mother's heart's all right.

[
For half a minute there is silence while
C
HARLES
and
W
ENDY
stare at
R
OBERT
'S
back
.]

W
ENDY
(
impatiently
): Robert, dear, do run away. Father will be coming in and then Charles will have to go. You might leave us alone for ten minutes.

R
OBERT
: Oh, all right. I'll go and gloom upstairs.

W
ENDY
(
handing him a two-shilling novel in a brown-paper cover
): You'd better take this. It's another shocker, isn't it? There will be an awful row if Father catches you reading it.

R
OBERT
(
taking book
): Oh, he won't spot it with the brown-paper cover on. (
Exit.)

C
HARLES
(
quickly, as door closes
): Any—any news?

W
ENDY
: No, darling. Just the same. (
For a moment they sit side by side in miserable silence.)

W
ENDY
: Oh, Charles, what are we going to do? I'm frightened.

C
HARLES
(
miserably
): Darling, what can you expect? These things don't come right of themselves. If only you'd be sensible and take the medicine that I got for you.

W
ENDY
: It's no good, Charles—I won't. It's wrong, and it's dangerous—you know it is.

C
HARLES
: All drugs are dangerous if you don't understand their use—but I do understand about this. I'm not qualified yet, it's true, but I shall be in a year, and to make quite certain I asked one of the doctors at the hospital. Surely you know, darling, that I wouldn't dream of asking you to take this stuff if there were any real risk.

W
ENDY
: Oh, what's the good of going over it all again? If it's strong enough to do the trick it must be dangerous. If it's not, then it only means that I shall make myself beastly ill and perhaps injure the child, all for nothing.

C
HARLES
(
wearily
): There you are—injure the child—you are thinking about the child already. That's Dame Nature getting busy, just like a wicked old woman. Directly a girl is old enough she sets the trap, baits it with every inducement, prods her in the back and the man, too. Then when they lose their heads for ten minutes, Dame Nature just laughs and walks away. She's done her job of providing another healthy girl with a baby—and she doesn't give a cuss for the consequences. But if there is any question of using science to defeat her, she comes rushing back, stirs up the girl's subconscious instinct until it over-rules her common-sense, and she flatly refuses even to help herself out of the trouble she's in.

W
ENDY
: Oh, well, there's ages to go yet, something may happen.

C
HARLES
: There you are—that's another of old Dame Nature's favourite tricks. Lulling you into a false sense of security. ‘Don't worry, my dear,' she says. ‘It will be all right, you aren't really going to have a baby—something will happen to prevent it—next week or next month.' Though why it should with a healthy girl, Lord in heaven knows. Then one fine day you'll wake up to the fact that it's too jolly late to do anything at all, and that devilish old woman will go off with a leer to work the same trick on some other poor girl. We get dozens of them every week at the hospital. You're not normal at the present time, Wendy, darling—no woman is when she's that way. You don't realise your own position as well as I do.

W
ENDY
: Don't I?—that's all you know. I was wretchedly ill every morning this week, and I simply can't sleep at night for thinking about it. I can't get it out of my mind for two seconds.

C
HARLES
(
taking her in his arms
): You poor darling. I know just how it must be, and there's not a moment of the day when I'm not thinking about you—but I do wish you would be brave and make an effort with this stuff.

W
ENDY
: I can't, Charles. I've been reading the cases in the papers. You've no idea how many women die from doing that sort of thing, and if we were found out they would put us both in prison. It's not right to do it—it can't be. If it were, the law would be altered and doctors would be allowed to do it properly in cases where the girl was not married.

C
HARLES
: All right, darling. If you feel so strongly about it.

W
ENDY
: Can't we possibly get married?

C
HARLES
: Well, we can, but you know all about Aunt Edith's will. If I marry before I'm twenty-five, that five thousand that she left me goes slap down the drain. We've only got just over a year to wait—and I do think we'd be absolutely mad not to hang on till then.

W
ENDY
: Oh, I know it's an awful lot of money—but surely this
is
more important.

C
HARLES
: Now listen, sweetheart. What good is it going to do? If we had got married before this happened, that would have been different. I wouldn't grudge the money, but as it
is we are not even engaged officially. We can't get married under a couple of months without exciting comment, and then we'll have the baby on the mat before we know where we are, so you'd have to face a scandal, anyhow. Surely it's more sensible to try to get out of this mess—get engaged as soon as you like, and we'll be married on my twenty-fifth birthday with everything all clear in front of us, and five thousand pounds in our pocket.

W
ENDY
: I suppose you're right—but I won't take that stuff—I'm frightened, Charles. I'm sure it's dangerous.

C
HARLES
(
producing a flat flask from his hip pocket
): All right, we won't talk about the medicine any more, but I want you to try this.

W
ENDY
(
suspiciously
): What is it?