Silver Spoons by stanley wilkin

SILVER SPOONS A Comedy in Four Scenes.

CHARACTERS: Sid Tuliver: About fifty, father of family. He is a small-time fence. Edna Tuliver: Approximately same age. Mother of family. She too is a small-time fence.

Jenny Tuliver: 17 years old. Very good-looking. Eldest child of above. She works in a haberdashery in the West End. Albert Tuliver: 14 years old. Plump, scruffy. Son of the above. Still occasionally attends school. Reg: Petty crook. About 30 years old. Tall, good-looking. Policeman: Entirely ubiquitous in looks and manner. Cuthbert: A young â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;toffâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;. Tall, well dressed and well built. Percy: Ditto. Lord Hale: About 60. Very expensively dressed. Arrogant and indifferent to others.

Scene 1: (The stage is dimly lit. Before us is the parlour of a working-class family during the early part of the Second World War: kitchen cabinets: kitchen utensils: crockery on display: a large dining table, Stage R: a door at back of stage that leads on to a hall. Edna and Sid are seated together before the wall: Jenny and Albert, their two children on the opposite side of the table. All are eating porridge. This is London in an unspecified time during the Blitz.) Edna: dishing out spoonfuls of porridge) Now mind, Albert, you eat it all this time. Food costs money. Money is ‘ard to come by. We can’t waste money. Albert: running a fork through his porridge) This is too ‘ard, mum. It’s like stone, it is. An’ it ain’t got enough salt. Sid: head in paper) Don’t speak to your mother like that. Feel lucky to have any food at all. There’s little around in this day and age. Be bloody grateful, lad. Edna: You wanna grow big and strong, don’t you? Well, for that you need to eat as much porridge as you can. Albert: Don’t want to. (Albert reluctantly puts his head down and begins eating.) Sid: to Jenny) Why aren’t you at work, lass? It’s seven already. Sitting there like you ‘ave all the time in the world. Jenny: I’m going, dad.

Sid: Well, lass, it’s not waiting for you, is it? Old Philips is a martinet, he is. He don’t like anyone to be late. Bear in mind, young lady, he gave you the job as a favour to me. Don’t you forget that! Jenny: I know, dad. I know. (Goes before mirror and begins brushing her long blond hair) Do I look like Carole Lombard? (Continues brushing) Edna: Don’t be daft, my girl. Comparing yourself to a film star. Sid: Stop that nonsense now, my lass. (Puts down newspaper) Don’t you go and spoil it now. And, (raises voice) don’t look down your nose at it, taking on airs and graces. Know your place, young lady. You’ll not get anywhere taking on airs and graces. (Turns to Edna) Will she, mum? Edna: nods as she eats) Told her that. Told her a thousand times. Sid: stuffing food into his mouth) Well, life will knock it out of her. See if it don’t. (Turns back to Jenny) Now young lady, just you go forget about frilly dresses, handsome, rich men and all such things. Think about steady work. Think about a husband who has steady work. Dreams my girl are for other people. Jenny: grabbing a thick slice of bread and butter) Have to rush. (Picks up her hat hanging on nearby cabinet) Don’t want Philips bawling me out and the bus might just get held up. Reg: calling from outside) Anyone ‘ome? It’s me, twice as big and twice as jolly. (Enters. Back of stage. Throws arms up and wide as Albert laughs) Reg, the cheeky chappie of the East End, the man for every occasion. Albert: chuckling) It’s Reg! Sid: smiling briefly) Come in Reg. We’re in, we’re in. We’re in for a laugh now.

Reg: ‘Allo all! (Stares at Jenny) Getting a big girl, Jenny, ain’t ya? My, what tits! (Stares intently at Jenny) Sid: laughing) Yes, she’s grown into a lovely lass. Only seventeen too. I can scarcely believe how she’s filled out. A year ago she was like a rake. Nothing there to speak of at all. Isn’t that right, Mum? Edna: smiling) She’s become a woman. Sid: stretches out hand to cup Jenny’s bosom) Like balloons! Let’s ‘ave one young lady. Jenny: squealing) Stop that, dad. (Laughs) Reg: stretching out a large, meaty paw) Yep, like bloody balloons. (Jenny exits laughing, stage back) Edna: She has to learn. Sid: smiling) What mother? Edna: What you men are like. Wild beasts, you are. Can’t keep your hands off any woman, any woman at all. If it’s got tits, you’d have it. Sid: turns to Reg) Reg, what have you got for us today? Somethin’ interesting I ‘ope. Somethin’ with a bit of class. Reg: puts sack on table) I have, Sid. I have. (Edna nods towards Albert) Sid: Time you were off to school, lad. Reg: Thought the boy had finished school? Surely, he’s of an age? Sid: Just turned 14 but the buggers won’t let him go. I’ve told them, his mother’s told them.

Edna: nods vigorously) I have. I have many a time. Sid: We’ve both told them to let him go. He’s got a job waiting for him. What use is school for him now? Albert: I don’t go often anyway. Sid: swipes him with back of hand) Well you go now. Bloody arguing all the time. Albert: holding his face) Aw! Sid: Get, or I’ll give you another one. (Albert gets up quickly, exits running stage back. Reg laughs loudly, watching Albert disappear) Sid: Got to show them. Otherwise they don’t learn. Reg: laughing) Quick as a flash. Still got your speed, Sid. Ain’t lost it. Fast as lightening. I barely saw it. Heard it, yes, but seen it no. Sid: I learnt from the best, as you well know, Reg. My father was strict with us kids. Never did me any harm, did it Edna? Edna: Made a man of you. Sid: Now then, what have you got, Reg? Reg: opens sack) Here we have it! (Plated silver cups, cutlery and dinner plates tumble out) What d’you think? Good innit? (He picks up some items, pawing them lovingly) Bloody gorgeous! Plate silver mind, but beautiful. (Flashes smiles around like candle light) What d’you think, Mrs Tuliver? Lovely, ain’t it? Lovely smutter. Earn a few bob I bet.

Edna: You’re right there, Reg, its only plate. Earn ten at best. If that. Some of it needs a polish. Looks grubby. (She leans over and takes one. Studies it closely) Not bad though. Not bad. (Taps at it curiously with a finger nail). Reg: If anyone can judge these things, it’s you Mrs Tuliver. You have an eye for such things, an eye. (He leans over as if to kiss her) How much? Remember, Mrs Tuliver, how much I went through to get this. I put my body and soul at risk. I cut my leg and two coppers chased me down Fulham Road. Edna: The exercise was good for you. You don’t get enough. You ain’t getting any younger. Reg: What? (Looks around for the mirror. Finds it. Preens before it) Edna: mocking) Not as handsome as you used to be. Reg: You’re having me on, ain’t you, Edna? Where’s the mirror? (Darts around) Where’s the fuckin’ mirror again? (Takes out comb and runs it through his thick head of hair) (Sid and Edna start laughing) Edna: My. You’re a strange one, Reg. You’re like a woman. Sid: So vain. REg: shrugs) Aw. That was kinda upsetting. (Smiles) But anyway, back to the matter in hand. What will you offer me? Edna: Five. Reg: Eight. Edna: Five. Reg: Seven.

Edna: No Reg. I tell you what, six and no more. Reg: Aw. Have a ‘eart, Edna. Have a ‘eart! I mean if the rozzers had caught me, I’d have gone down for at least a year. A year, for gawd’s sake! And what? For six pounds? ‘Ave a ‘eart! Edna: Six pounds. That’s your lot. Sid: She’s being generous, mate. Reg: rings his hands) ‘Ave a ‘eart! Edna: places six pounds on table) Jus’ don’t spend it all on the dogs. Give some to your kids. Reg: Aw! What can I do? Ain’t no decent fences in this city anymore. Not a one! (Dramatically throws up his hands in despair). Edna: to Sid) You know, Sid, some of this stuff is alright. Look at this. It must be silver, proper silver. It ain’t plate. I’m sure of that. (Caresses it with bony fingers) Where did you come by these, Reg? Where did you find them? Reg: Place off Sloane Square. Got bombed last night. Most of the street was flattened but this one ‘ouse was still standing, at least part of it. I got in there sharpish as the fire brigade left, picked through the rubble best I could, pushed aside a fuckin’ corpse and there it was. It was near a bag. A leather bag. As I was picking the stuff up, the rozzers appeared and started after me. I left behind a couple of spoons I think, that’s all. Sparkled under the dead man’s arm, just like stars sprinkled with brick dust. The rest, as it were, you know. Anyway, Edna, if it’s that good, give me another fiver. Edna: A deal is a deal, Reg. We agreed on it. Reg: You’re a hard woman you are, Edna.

Edna: Whoever owned these had a bit of dosh. Its good silver. Really good silver. What do you think, Sid? Sid: You’re the expert, hon. Edna: What do we have here? (Turns a cup over and over, then stares at an engraved emblem on its side) It’s got a crest of some sort here. (Shows to Sid and then Reg) I wonder who this belonged to. I’ll ‘ave to check all this out. It might belong to someone famous or somethin’. (Wail of air raid siren) Reg: Again? Twice today already. (Moves Stage L) Better move into the basement. Bring the stuff with you, Edna. Edna: stays) Go if you like, Reg, but it won’t last long and probably they won’t bomb here. (Stares hard at Sid) We’ll stay. (Sid nods reluctantly) Reg: Daft. But then I’m a young man, an’ you two are getting on a bit, ain’t ya? (Exit, scurryimg away). Edna: We ain’t old, are we Sid? Sid: lightheartedly) Getting there, Edna, getting there. Edna: Derby and Joan, eh? Sid: solemnly) We are. We are. (Sound of bombs exploding) (Light goes down. Stage suddenly in darkness)

Scene 2: (All-clear is sounded)

Reg: enters, much later) Anyone there? Sid, Edna? You there? (Light comes through window, stage R/B) You there? (He, and audience, see both apparently sleeping, heads on table amongst the silver) There you are. (He goes over. Studies them) Sid? Edna? (Puts hand on both) Bloody ‘ell. You’re dead. Fuckin’ dead. (Stands deep in thought) Well, might as well take them back. (Gathers silver together) They don’t need it anymore. (Looks around, and spies his sack in corner of room, Stage L. Picks it up and starts pushing silver into it) Shame. (He heads towards door) Best fences I ever had. Except they didn’t pay much. Not much at all. (Throws sack over shoulder) (There’s a loud knock on the door. Then, a pause. Several more knocks. Reg freezes, a look of panic on his face.) Policeman: stentorian voice outside) Open up! Anyone there? Anyone at home? Open up! (Reg doesn’t move) Policeman: Open up. Now, now, open up there or I’m coming in. D’you hear? Open up or I’m coming in. (Knocks loudly) Reg: drops sack, kicking it under the table): Coming. Hold your horses, mate. (Exits, back of stage. Returns a few minutes later, followed by policeman) What’s the rush, officer? Where’s the riot? Where’s the fire? Policeman: At present, everywhere, sir. (Glances around, and it seems finally notices Edna and Sid) Now, sir, are you the owner of this property?

Reg: No. Just a visitor. Policeman: taking out his notebook. He writes down) Just a visitor. (Looks up) When did you arrive, sir? Reg: Before the last air raid. I hid in the basement. Policeman: nodding) Very wise, sir. (Glances at Sid and Edna) Never know what can ‘appen if you don’t find shelter. (Returns to Reg) Now then, sir. A man was witnessed running into this street with a sackful of silver goblets over his shoulder. Belong to an important person, sir. A very important person. Has half the force out looking for them, and the thief. Would you know anything about it, sir? (Notebook poised). Reg: Of course not, constable. I’ve been at ‘ome all day. Helping me missus. Policeman: All day, sir? Reg: Yes, constable. Otherwise, I’ve been chewing the fat with my two (indicates Edna and Sid) –late-friends here. A lovely couple. Policeman: goes over to Sid and Edna. Lifts their heads) Quite dead. Quite dead. Not long either. (Writes in his notebook). Mmmmm. Sir. (Returns to Reg) The man who stole the silver bore a remarkable resemblance to you. (Turns page of notebook) Tall, black haired, about thirty. You to a Tee, sir. You to the proverbial Tee. Reg: A lot of people look like me, constable. I’m everyday, I am. Nothing extraordinary. Tall, but not excessively so. No more than 6’. Dark brown hair, not black. Not truly black. An ordinary, everyday man. Policeman: bending down, looking under table) What is this? (Pulls at the sack) Well, well, what do we have here? (Lifts it up) Sounds like metal to me. Maybe silver. What do you think, sir?

Reg: Never seen it before, Constable. Policeman: Yes. That’s a story I’ve heard before. Many times, sir. Uncountable occasions. Everyone I’ve ever arrested has told me that! The stolen objects suddenly appear, out of the blue as it were. Is that the way it is? Reg: I don’t know, constable. I’m an honest man. I’ve never done an illegal or immoral act in me life. Policeman: I hear that too, sir. Nothing new under the sun. (opens sack) My! My! (Takes out some pieces and place them on the table) Silver alright. And, the stolen silver too! (Smiles) Well, sir, what is your explanation? (He holds up a silver flagon) Do you recognise this, sir? Reg: I’ve never seen it before. (Peers closely at it) Is that what silver looks like? Well, I’ll be a dustman’s breeches. Policeman: Not very likely, sir. I think sir, you should come with me to the station. There’s a good lad. (Policeman places sack on table, and, while so doing, Reg takes a cosh from his jacket pocket and brings it down upon the back of policeman’s neck. The policeman’s helmet flies off. He slumps across the table, joining Sid and Edna) Reg: Bloody hell, I’ve done it now. (Leans over policeman studying the back of his head. After a while, he coshes the prone man several times more.) Might as well finish the job. (Hits him several more times. Places cosh back in jacket) He won’t wake up from that. (Leans over policeman) Dead as a doornail. (Places chair behind him, pulling him onto it, but allowing his head to rest on table like Edna and Sid). Makes a cosy little group, if I say so myself. Just like old friends. Neighbours in fact. (Picks up sack and moves towards the door)

Scene 3: (Once again, door is knocked several times) Voice: plummy, aristocratic and Oxbridge) Hello, hello. Is anyone there? (Reg says nothing but drops sack and pushes it under table) Voice: Open up the door now. Open up or weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll kick it down. Wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t we, Percy? 2nd Voice: Yes. We will. Open up. (They begin kicking door) Reg: Not again! The world has gone mad! Voices: together) Open up there. Open up. Ooopen up! Reg: What shall I do? Voices: Open up we say.

Reg: I’m coming. Voices: About time. He’s coming. Reg: Yes, I’m coming. Voices: No. He is. (Loudly) Can you not interrupt? (Directed at Reg) He is coming, he’ll be here soon, so open up. (Reg: disappears stage back, returning within minutes with two very well-dressed men.) Percy: About time. What exactly are you hiding in here? (Notes three bodies) Ah, air raid victims I assume? They are everywhere, littering up the city. The government really should be more thorough and tidy up straight away. Snap to it! Get them off the street instead of allowing corpses to become a public nuisance. Cuthbert: We could drag them outside, I suppose. Not wise to have them in here for long? Percy: extends hand to Reg) Good morning, dear boy. Nice day. Sun’s out. Very little rain at present. Cuthbert: extending his hand) We’ve come for the silver. Very rash of you old man to run off with it like that. Lord Hale, to whom it belongs, is distinctly annoyed. Percy: He’s on his way. He will be here soon. Reg: Who is he? Who is this bloke when ‘e’s about? (Percy and Cuthbert look intently at each other) Percy: He doesn’t know who Lord Hale is. Cuthbert: A pleb, dear boy. Percy: Well he will be here soon. Can we have the silver?

Reg: out loud, to himself) Gawd, will I ever get it back? Why’s everyone so bloody interested in a bit of silver? Cuthbert: Where is it, old chap? Reg: What? Percy: We must have it before he comes. Reg: What? Cuthbert: Please don’t be so difficult, old man. Let’s do this as easily as we can. No problems. No mess. No blood. Reg: I still don’t know what you’re talking about. (Percy grabs Reg around the neck and Cuthbert punches him several times in his abdomen. Reg falls to his knees) Reg: Bloody hell. Fucking bastards. Cuthbert: We really do need them before he comes. Reg: You fucking bastards. (Cuthbert kicks him to the ground) Reg: groaning) I’m dying. Percy: Seems a bit of a habit here, old bean. (To Cuthbert) Three already. A policeman too. How crass! One more will even it up. (Cuthbert lifts Reg up, slaps his face repeatedly, pushing him onto a chair, which breaks). Reg: I’ll tell. I’ll tell. (Points to under the table) (Cuthbert pulls out the sack, looking inside. He takes out a flask)

Reg: sitting up) Me smutter. (Brushes dust and dirt off his jacket) You’ve ruined me jacket. (Pulls at it) Look at it! I pinched this off a barra only last week. Percy: Is that it, Cuthbert? Cuthbert: I think so. (He pulls out another, looks it over) Looks like everything is here. Percy: Make sure. Cuthbert: putting them on the table one by one) Mmm. Percy, old boy, no spoons. The spoons are not here. Percy: Oh dear. Are you certain? Cuthbert: No spoons. No. Definitely no spoons. Percy: walks over and looks for himself) Mmmm. None. You are right. Cuthbert: Lord Hale will be mortified. Percy: Very angry. Very, very angry. They were a present from Goring for his 58 th birthday. He treasured them. Cuthbert: He’ll be very, very angry. Percy: He’ll be here soon. What will we do? Cuthbert: turns towards Reg) Where are the spoons? Do you know where they are? Did you drop them somewhere? Did you leave them there? (Gives him kick). Answer. We have little time. (Lord Hale suddenly appears from doorway.)

Lord Hale: Why precisely do you have little time, gentlemen, and why please tell why there are so many dead people in here? Doesn’t anyone ever tidy up? Three bodies. Three too many, gentlemen. (Cuthbert and Percy bow) Cuthbert: We found the silver. Lord Hale: All of it? Percy: Except the spoons. Lord Hale: astonished) You did not find the spoons? You did not find the spoons given to me by the only man I ever loved? A chair. A chair. Both Cuthbert and Percy look around for a spare chair. Cannot find one so tips policeman off his. They present it to Lord Hale. Before he sits down they wipe it clean. He inspects it thoroughly then sits on it. He surveys the scene. He takes smelling salts, sniffs and sneezes. Lord Hale: Now, gentleman. Find the spoons. (He suddenly notices Reg) And who exactly is this? Cuthbert: The thief, Lord Hale. Lord Hale: Does he know where the spoons are? Cuthbert: He didn’t say. We’ve beaten him up of course… Lord Hale: One would sincerely hope so. Reg: I’ll tell. They are…. Lord Hale: (To Reg) Be quiet, young man. (Back to his men) Otherwise, why should you work for me? (Looks around) This is a hovel? Am I right? It certainly looks like one. Very small indeed. Awful smell of boiled cabbage and pork crackling. Quite powerful. Quite

revolting. I rarely ever go near food being cooked. Reminds me of servants, and I avoid servants. They don’t wash often enough for my taste and when they do they use a disgusting stuff called carbolic. Stinks the house down. But, I digress………..Get him to divulge what he did with the spoons, and then dispose of him. Reg: What? Cuthbert: punching him) Own up, old boy. Reg: I think they’re still there, in the ruin where I found the rest. The rozzers came after me an’ I didn’t ‘ave time to get them. I took off like a rabbit in car lights. Pissing meself I was. (Cuthbert hits him again) Reg: I’m telling you what ‘appened. (Grasps his jaw) I think you’ve broken a tooth. (Tries to get up) Where’s the mirror? Where’s the mirror? Albert: appears suddenly behind them) Who are you? (All turn around and stare at him.) Albert: Why is everyone dead? Uncle Reg? Mum, Dad? (Rushes over to them, crying) You killed them! You killed my mum and dad. (He lifts their heads one by one. He starts to sob loudly, walking up and down in his grief) Lord Hale: to Albert) Oh do shut up! Do you really think we wish to hear your whining? My parents died several years ago. It was of little consequence to me. (Albert continues bawling) Oh do make the child stop. (To Cuthbert and Percy) (Cuthbert and Percy approach the child.) Percy: Do be quiet. Albert: You killed my mother, my dad.

Percy: We didn’t. They were dead when we arrived. Albert: Liar! Lord Hale: Hitler, a darling man, has the right idea. Makes even children part of the army. None of this nonsense about molly-coddling the little buggers. The German way, now it is, is kill or be killed. A concise and perfect way of viewing life. Eat or be eaten. A weak child like this should be thrown into the jungle to fend for himself. Make a man of him. Percy: Young man, you really must stop this caterwauling. It’s not dignified. Reg: Leave the kid alone. Cuthbert: kicks him) Shut up. Albert: inconsolable) My mum and dad! Lord Hale: This is intolerable. We cannot do the business at hand with all this noise. Please, make him stop. All this crying is going through my head like a saw. Quite appalling. Now, it’s clear that the British are weak, a tired, spineless race ripe for conquest. Every day, London is smashed by bombs. The city reels in agony. Albert: My mum and dad! Lord Hale: Oh, do shut him up. I can hardly think! Cuthbert and Percy look at each other, walking over to the agonised boy. Percy: You must be quiet. Cuthbert: Please be quiet. Lord Hale: Oh, dear. Such unnatural kindness. I do believe he’s still yelping behind me. (Cuthbert strikes Albert, who clasps his face yelling even more.)

Lord Hale: Much, much worse. Intolerable. Cuthbert strikes Albert, who falls and hits head on table. He lies motionless. Reg: Oh Gawd!! You bloody bastards. Lord Hale: Ah, a useful reminder. Let’s get back to business in hand. Reg: Fucking bastards!! You killed the poor lad. Wasn’t doing any ‘arm. No ‘arm at all. (Percy kicks him) Lord Hale: Young man, what did you do with the spoons? Leave the boy alone you two. Cuthbert: He’s dead, sir. Quite dead. Lord Hale: A small matter. (Points at Reg with walking stick) Business in hand, gentlemen. (Cuthbert and Percy walk over to Reg and lift him up. Percy pushes Edna’s inert body off her chair, moves it front of stage, throwing Reg onto it. Hale taps him with his stick.) Lord Hale: Now, young man, where exactly are the spoons? I really must find them Reg: distraught) In the ruins. Buried in the ruins with a corpse. (Air raid siren goes off again. Sound of exploding bombs in distance. Windows rattle) Lord Hale: Ah, the German Airforce is insatiable, coming again and again like a tiger attacking prey. How lovely is the sound, my friends! A modern artist must now be busy at his masterpiece, ecstatic at the colour and form of each explosion. Reds, oranges and blues. A new world arrives. A wonderful new world. (Explosions get closer and louder) Cuthbert: Shall we go into the basement, sir? (Hale is beginning to look anxious)

Lord Hale: Yes. I think so. Bombs kill the worthy and unworthy. They are indiscriminate. (Rises). Cuthbert: This way, sir. (They help the old man towards the basement) Lord Hale: raising his walking stick) Goring my silly old friend. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not the one you want to kill. Wrong man, my friend. Destroy, kill all the others. I am not the man. (Continues on his way) You incontinent fat fool, I am your friend. Reg: struggling to move) What about me? You bastards, what about me? (They ignore him. Bombs explode! They are getting nearer each time) (Reg screams) (Flashing light, then everything goes black)

Scene 4: (After a few minutes, the stage is once more lit-up. The table is in pieces, walls down, roof off. There is no sign of people, dead or alive. Lord Hale, Cuthbert and Percy emerge from the basement). Lord Hale: There are bits of flesh everywhere. (Laughs) A strange form of decoration. Percy: throws up) Aghh. Lord Hale: Poooo. I cannot get concerned about the fate of the lower classes. Let the bombs eradicate them all. Degenerate, unworthy fools. (Walks among the debris. Moving objects and flesh with his stick) The spoons are nowhere. Not here at least. So terribly sad. First rate workmanship. German lines of course, flowing and smooth. I suppose they remain with

Frederick after all. He decays around and over them I imagine, staining the precious silver as he did my reputation. (Looks out) More of this nightmare, the slow scientific annihilation of this old, overused city and peace will be made. We will join against the Russians, and Jews, their masters. (A huge smile crosses his wizened face). Jenny: wanders into the ruin, looking right and left. She looks directly at Lord Hale) Who are you? Lord Hale: Ah, a young pretty girl. Who might you be, my dear? Jenny: It’s all gone. Lord Hale: Of course it has, my dear. Of course it has. Jenny: Phillip’s haberdashery was blown away and the old sod with it. ‘E won’t shout at anyone again. Disappeared in a swoosh of smoke, he did. There one minute, gone the next. His bloody wig was the only thing left of ‘im. Saw it floating in the air. Don’t rightly know where ‘is ‘ead is. I’ve no job, not now. Damn bloody shame, it is, sir. All that taffeta floating in the air, disappearing amongst the bleeding ruins. Who are you? Where are my parents? Lord Hale: I came to see your parents about my silver. Prepare yourself, my dear. Jenny: For what? Lord Hale: Your parents are dead. Jenny: Yes. I know that already. Lord Hale: So, my dear, is your brother. Jenny: starts to cry) Poor little Albert! Poor little sod.

Lord Hale: putting his arms around her) You are such a pretty girl. So much after my own heart. Lovely blond Aryan hair. So wonderfully Nordic. (Turns to Cuthbert and Percy) Prepare the car. We’ll be out soon. Cuthbert/Percy: Yes, sir. (They leave) Lord Hale: Do you have relatives nearby? Jenny: No. They left London. Lord Hale: Would you like to come with me? Jenny: looks directly at him) Are you rich? You look rich. Lord Hale: Young lady, I am extremely rich. Jenny: Do you have a big house? Lord Hale: Young lady, I have more than one big house. Jenny: her eyes lighting up) How many cars? Lord Hale: Several my dear. I will give you one. Jenny: Well, I haven’t a job anymore. My family are dead. Aren’t they? Lord Hale: nods) Jenny: What else do I have? Lord Hale: running hand down her hair) Such lovely hair! English hair. (Puts arm around her shoulders) Come, my dear, before the planes return. There are so many things we can do together.

Jenny: smiles putting her hand through his arm) I like films. Will we see films? (Leaving stage) Lots of films. I like Cary Grant and, sometimes, Fred Astaire. It depends on how I feel. ((They leave).

FIN