Father of the Man (39 page)

MAX

I wouldn’t mind just one little girl amongst them. So long, naturally, as she’ll be the spit and image of her mama.

HESTER

When I’ve presented you with five sons I might come up with one little girl, as a reward. No, I will; I truly promise. I’m going to make you such a good wife. In every way. I shall always look after you most splendidly…in return, of course, for your looking after me! When I’m fifty you’ll be over seventy—just think of that—but you’ll be the best-looked-after old gentleman anyone ever set eyes on. So wise and good and well-regarded. The world will say, “Those two—since the beginning of time they were surely meant to be with one another!”

MAX

That’s very kind but—I’d rather you didn’t dwell on them too much, those twenty years. I keep telling myself I’m your cousin, not your uncle. Do you realize that at this time in five weeks we’ll be on our way to Austria?

HESTER

Married in Vienna! Naomi’s right: it
is
romantic! It’s almost like Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett.

MAX

But they didn’t marry in Vienna.

HESTER

No, but the principle’s the same—they, too, had to bundle off in secret. Nor would
they
have been able to send out invitations. However, I don’t suppose they had so much in the way of close community; far fewer to close ranks around them and be all nice and Jewish and supportive. Though the Brownings did have the march on us in one respect: they settled in Italy, under blue and sunny skies; we’ve got to settle in London, amid the chills and swirling fog.

MAX

Ah, but after Vienna did they spend a week in Paris?

HESTER

(Instantly throwing off mock gloom) No, they didn’t! Paris! How I’ve always wanted to see Paris! What a perfect place to spend the last part of your honeymoon. And by the way, Max, just in case you should be worried, I know that I’m the first of my sisters to get married but that doesn’t mean I haven’t heard all about the facts of life or that—

MAX

Hester!

HESTER

You keep on saying “Hester!”—you’re much more prudish than you used to be. I think I’d better warn you: every time you say Hester in that tone I shall wait until we’re next in public and very loudly call you Uncle Max. That’s a promise. Even when we’re registering at the Georges Cinque on honeymoon. Even when we’re living in sin in London and taking the children on their Sunday walk. Even on the steps of the synagogue and saying good morning to the rabbi—if we should ever go to any synagogue or say good morning to the rabbi.

MAX

Hester, we shall not be living in sin. We shall have been married in a legal and binding ceremony, we shall have all the proper documents to prove it.

HESTER

But not proper or legal in
this
country, as you well know, my dearest.

MAX

I do so wish you wouldn’t interrupt! And as
you
well know, too, that’s nothing but a technicality, it—

HESTER

Technicality—oh, fiddlesticks! We may fool the rest of the world, Max, but we’re not going to start fooling each other. Our sons will be illegitimate and we shall love them all the more for being so.

MAX

Hester, I have to say it: I don’t like you in this mood.

HESTER

Very well. Then go and find somebody else to marry! And see if I care!

OLD HESTER

Oh dear. (She starts to cry)

YOUNG HESTER

Yet you deserved your unhappiness. You tricked him, didn’t you? He was so easy to deceive. Shell shock had muddled all his memories.

OLD HESTER

It wasn’t only for myself—I did it for Mama, as well. She had so much to bear.

YOUNG HESTER

Yes. Mama’s life became a lot easier.

OLD HESTER

And I was nineteen—quite old enough to be married. Ellen, at sixteen, would have been far too young.

YOUNG HESTER

Besides, you meant to help her later—as well as wickedness, there was a real wish for kindness that underlay the act. You even told yourself she might be better off.

OLD HESTER

It was too disgusting, the way he used to kiss her. Fondle and kiss her. I heard them through the door. I peeked in at the window.

YOUNG HESTER

But, oh, how it aroused you! You loved his wrists and hands. His eyes were kind and he was handsome but—yes, how you loved his wrists and hands!

OLD HESTER

Well, that excitement quickly died.

YOUNG HESTER

Also, of course, you wished to be the mistress of your own household, to have your own staff. The first of all your sisters to be wed, to have the run of London theatres and expensive restaurants. You imagined a salon—yourself the gracious hostess. Yes, you’d become a source of encouragement and inspiration: to writers, artists, men of wit. (Pause) And your feelings for him
were
real; or at least you persuaded yourself they were, and is there any difference? He was a hero who had been all through the War. He had experience—money; you had exuberance—youth. He would take care of you; and you…you would nurse him back to former strength—and enthusiasm—and drive, and make of him the man you thought he had it in him to become. It was a kind of…glorious challenge.

OLD HESTER

And I did make him a good wife. I kept my promise. And afterwards—after the first great disappointment, after those early years of disillusion—gradually, so gradually that I scarcely even noticed—I warmed to him again…though never in that same way. He was prissy and self-pitying and I felt contempt; but proximity and shared interests and gratitude and good intentions—
his
gratitude and
his
intentions—though mine as well at times—over the years, these built up a membrane of affection. I think he never guessed—no, no one ever did—at my awareness of the magnitude of my mistake. Continual awareness. But I had made my own bed after all; and I lay down on it—to the best of my ability.

OLD HESTER

(Cont) But you! At nineteen. With energy. With beauty. With your whole life in front of you. You could have done so much. Cherished each passing day; achieved some little thing, pinpointed some thought, some act, some new experience—salvaged
something
of value, no matter how small, from every one of them, those passing days; written it down, given it substance, saved it from oblivion. Just one good turn a day—and think what your life could have been, and how your passing would be mourned. You didn’t know, you didn’t see, you were so stupid—I have no patience with you—shoo! Shoo! Just leave me be!

OLD HESTER

(Cont.) Dear God, how long have I got left? My mother lived till eighty-six; her mother was the same. Supposing I still have a full three years to go? Three more summers; three more springs. Over a thousand days. A thousand! That’s a wonderfully long time. A thousand days could make up for a lot. Used properly, they could make up for almost everything. I shall tick them off one by one and try to treasure every minute of my time. Only…pray God I don’t go senile. Pray God I don’t go deaf or lame or that I don’t develop cancer. Don’t let me lose my memory. Let me use these days to think only about others; let every one of them contain some shining deed. Oh, if somehow I could just be
sure
about those thousand days! (Pause) Dear God. Help me. Let it all have meant something.

FLORA

(Extremely flat through much of what ensues) You seem very happy. Where has Ellen gone?

HESTER

Oh, Ellen went home; she said to say goodbye. Yes, darling, I
am
very happy. And so must you be. It’s all going to be all right.

FLORA

Yes, I’ve just been talking to Tony. He seems…well, less sure of himself and of what he’s going to do.

HESTER

(Nods) I’m certain Tony is going to be sensible. I think he’s seen the error of his ways. I’ve seen the error of mine, as well.

FLORA

Meaning what?

HESTER

Meaning we shouldn’t try to push him. We should try to give him room to breathe.

FLORA

Whether he stays on at college or not I don’t want him living with that woman.

HESTER

Darling, we have to accept it. She may not be a bad girl. Not
la crème de la crème
, of course, but even so she may do him some good and he may do her some good and her poor little boys as well—we mustn’t forget
them
. Perhaps we can have them all to lunch one Sunday—the Sunday after next, maybe—and take them up to the Heath or to the zoo and buy them all ice creams. Treats and outings; that does everyone some good. I wish he hadn’t left. I should like to have suggested it.

FLORA

He hasn’t. He’s gone in to see Walter. But, Mother, please. Don’t rush things. Let’s think about it for a while. I’m not even sure if I could bear to meet her at the moment.

HESTER

Darling, I understand exactly how you feel. But we’ve got to make the best of it. Otherwise we’ll only alienate him—which of course is the last thing any of us wants.

FLORA

To be honest, right now I don’t feel I very much care.

HESTER

Besides. You might like her. Might find she’s rather good company. She may be someone to go around the shops with—while Mary and I look after the children. You could take her to the cinema. And Tony said the boys are sweet. It could be almost like having your own grandchildren.

FLORA

Oh, stop it, Mother. Stop it! Don’t!

HESTER

Flora, sweetheart, what’s the matter? Come and sit down. You’re overwrought. Let me get you something to drink. A brandy, perhaps—how would you like a brandy?

FLORA

No, I don’t want anything. I’ll be all right. (She sits)

HESTER

(Also sits) Why don’t you sleep here tonight? Go to bed in your old room. Have a hot-water bottle. A mug of Horlicks. Propped against a comfy mound of pillows. In the morning you can lie in and Mary will bring you breakfast. And the papers. You need a spot of coddling. I don’t think you’ve had nearly enough of it—I don’t think you’ve had any—not for far too long a time.

FLORA

No, of course I must go home. It’s only round the corner. And, anyway, I haven’t got any of my night things with me.

HESTER

No, darling, I’ve made up my mind; you know I’m irresistible. And as for your things—we can walk round and collect those later. Or I’m sure we could find you a nightie and a spare toothbrush. You said yourself that you don’t like being by yourself in that great empty flat; that you detest your own company—and that sometimes you get frightened.

FLORA

But, Mother, I’m not a child. I mustn’t give in to such silly things as that.

HESTER

In fact, I’ve an even better idea! I don’t know why we never thought of it before. You must give up your flat and you must move in here. That’s the obvious answer. It will save you a lot of money and it will be lovely for the pair of us. Flora, you can’t think what it would mean to have you here again, under this roof. It would be just like old times; it would be just like turning back the clock.

FLORA

(Wistful) Turning back the clock?

HESTER

Wouldn’t that be wonderful? And we’ll do such things together.
We’ll
have outings. Theatres, lunches, concerts. I’ll educate you, darling. I’ll make you appreciate good music. You’ll be forever grateful.

FLORA

Well, I must say—you make it sound quite tempting. I do get very low at times. Ever since Tony left home.

HESTER

I know you do, my pet. Don’t think your mummy doesn’t know about these things. But that’s all done with now. No more loneliness. No more feeling down. (Laughs) I won’t allow it, do you hear! I’ll even teach you how to tango.

FLORA

(More animated) Oh, have you forgotten that I once won a dancing medal? Anyway, why were you doing the tango?

HESTER

Following in dear Ellen’s footsteps. She suddenly got some bee in her bonnet, just before she left. Here, darling. Together. I haven’t danced a proper tango in about six centuries.