Priestley Plays Four (22 page)

MARTIN: Because we’re both ghosts.

JENNY:
(Light and voice fading.)
No, it’s not like that. Why are you pretending not to understand?

MARTIN: Why should I understand? And why did you say I knew once?

JENNY:
(A faint whisper.)
Because – we talked – don’t you remember?

MARTIN:
(Alarmed.)
Don’t go

Actually she has gone, but we hear her voice. MARTIN is looking for her distractedly
.

JENNY: Yes. And don’t try to find me.

MARTIN:
(Calling, in anguish.)
Jenny! Jenny Villiers!

JENNY:
(Very faint and far away.)
No…not yet…not yet… Remember the link down the years…the last one is waiting…

MARTIN:
(Urgently.)
I don’t understand…and I want to see you once more, Jenny…just once more…

Her reflection now appears in the large mirror. He stares at it a moment, much moved
.

Jenny! Jenny Villiers!

As she smiles, and her lips seem to pronounce his name, he moves towards the mirror, to take her in his arms, but moves slowly like a man in a trance. There is exultant music. But the image fades as he gets nearer, and he finally stumbles against the dead mirror
.

The glass door! Only the glass door!

He falls with a crash in front of the mirror. The music sweeps up, and then a moment or two later door R. opens to admit OTLEY and DR. CAVE, who enter hurriedly. OTLEY switches on lights, showing Green Room exactly as it was before, with standard light on desk, etc
.

OTLEY:
(Alarmed.)
He’s there – look, doctor. Must have fainted.

DR. CAVE:
(Crossing with bag.)
Durned good job you thought of calling me. He must have been moving around instead of resting – and then had a black-out. Frequently happens with a touch of concussion. Now – let’s see…

They are now bending over MARTIN, who lies still
.

Hm, shocking pulse. Might have been a near thing. But, he’ll be all right. I’ll give him an injection of coramine.
(Begins to prepare injection, from his bag.)

OTLEY: I thought he was looking queer, the last time I looked in.

DR. CAVE:
(On the job.)
This ought to keep him going for a few hours – and then he really will have to rest. I took rather a chance before, but with people of his type, you have to make allowance for the way their minds are working. No good telling ’em to rest if they’re not ready to rest. They just fret themselves into a worse state. There – that ought to do the trick.

They watch MARTIN in silence for a moment. Then MARTIN opens his eyes
.

OTLEY: It’s all right, Mr. Cheveril. Doctor’s here.

MARTIN:
(Muttering.) The Glass Door. The Glass Door
.

DR. CAVE: What did he say?

OTLEY:
The Glass Door
– that’s the name of his play.

DR. CAVE: Oh yes – of course. Mind running on it, you see – That’s what happens with this type. That’s why one’s got to take risks with ’em.
(In cheerful professional tone.)
Now then, Mr. Cheveril, feeling better?

MARTIN:
(Sitting up slowly.)
Yes, thanks… Sorry about this… But I was all right, y’know…and then when I moved towards her – she vanished…

OTLEY looks in surprises at DR. CAVE who merely shakes his head
.

DR. CAVE: Then you did a neat little dive into a complete blackout, Mr. Cheveril. Well now, suppose we get you back into that comfortable chair, eh?

MARTIN rises, with their assistance
.

MARTIN: Yes – but I’m all right now, y’know.
(He goes slowly with their assistance, back to his chair.)
I won’t try to explain… You wouldn’t believe me if I did… But I’m sorry to have been such a nuisance.

DR. CAVE: Don’t worry about that. Fortunately, Mr. Otley took a peep at you about half an hour ago and thought you were looking queer, and so very sensibly telephoned me.

MARTIN:
(To OTLEY.)
I’m much obliged.

OTLEY: Not at all, Mr. Cheveril. But I’d better get back to my office. You can give me a buzz from the desk if there’s anything I can do for you.

He goes out R.. DR. CAVE now lights a cigarette and looks rather quizzically at MARTIN
.

DR. CAVE: I’ve given you an injection of coramine. I’ll keep you going for a few hours – if you’ve anything you want to attend to urgently – but after that, you’ll either rest properly or find yourself another doctor.

MARTIN: Thanks. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. But there are certain things I’d like to attend to first. And I couldn’t rest until I’d attended to them.

DR. CAVE: So I thought.
(He picks up a bottle of tablets from the desk, and looks at it thoughtfully.)
You took two of these?

MARTIN: Yes. Followed your instructions.

DR. CAVE: Sure you took only two?

MARTIN: Why – yes. I distinctly remember taking two and swallowing them with some water – wait a minute, though.
(Thinks a moment.)
I took four. Not deliberately. I remember now. I took a second two, forgetting that I’d already taken two. I say – I’m sorry.

DR. CAVE: Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to yourself. That was asking for trouble. What probably happened was that you gave yourself such a boost that your heart couldn’t take it.
(Grins at him.)
What does it feel like to be nearly dead?

MARTIN:
(Remembering, slowly.)
Not yet.

DR. CAVE: What’s that?

MARTIN:
(Slowly.)
It’s quite different from what you might imagine. Perhaps we go from one kind of time to another.

DR. CAVE: You’ve been dreaming, Mr. Cheveril.

MARTIN: I wonder.

DR. CAVE: If you’d put just a little more strain on your system my dear sir, you’d have dropped clean out of any kind of time for good and all.

MARTIN:
(Smiling.)
How do you know, doctor?

DR. CAVE:
(Rising.)
Well – I don’t. My job is to mend bodies and yours needs looking after. I’ll take these, by the way.
(Takes the bottle of tablets.)
So, without unduly exerting yourself, just attend to anything here that you feel you can’t leave – and then get to bed, and stay there until I see you again. That’ll be sometime in the morning. And don’t worry if you don’t sleep too well tonight – and don’t take a sedative – just lie quiet. Goodnight.

MARTIN:
(As DR. CAVE goes.)
Goodnight, doctor – and thank you. By the way, you might please tell Otley to look in for a moment if you see him.

DR. CAVE gives an acknowledging wave and departs R. with his bag
.

After he has gone, MARTIN looks slowly round the room, obviously remembering what he has seen in it. Soft music. Then OTLEY renters R.
.

OTLEY: Yes, Mr. Cheveril?

MARTIN: Two things – if you don’t mind. First ask your secretary to get through to Sir George Gavin – the number’s – er – Regent Six One Five Oh – he may not be there, but leave a message for him to ring me here as soon as he can – it’s rather urgent.

OTLEY:
(Making a note.)
Yes – got that. Anything else?

MARTIN:
(Hesitating a little.)
Well – you remember that young actress who wanted to see me – ?

OTLEY: Ah – I’m sorry about that, Mr. Cheveril –

MARTIN: No, that’s all right. I refused to see her. I was wrong. If she comes back, I want to see her.

OTLEY: All right, Mr. Cheveril. But it isn’t likely she will come back.

MARTIN:
(Slowly remembering.)
Y’know, I think she might. The last thing she said – and I thought it odd at the time – was ‘You’ll be sorry soon that you said that.’ That was after I told her to clear out. And she was quite right. Now I
am
sorry.

OTLEY: Still – that wouldn’t bring her back, would it?

MARTIN: I don’t know. It might. She also told me to be careful.

OTLEY:
(Surprised.)
Careful about what?

MARTIN: Ghosts, I think.

OTLEY: Oh – well – Mr. Cheveril – it’s like I told you – you know how superstitious they all are –

Enter ALFRED LEATHERS L.
.

LEATHERS: Not interrupting anything, am I?

MARTIN: No, come in, Alfred.

LEATHERS: I’m not wanted on the stage for a spell, so I just came up to see how you’re getting on.

MARTIN: We were talking about ghosts. And I was about to remind Mr. Otley that we’re ghosts too.

OTLEY:
(Smiling.)
Now, now, Mr. Cheveril – none of that. Well, I’ll get your London call put through as soon as I can, and I’ll tell ’em down at the stage door to let that young woman come up – if she does come back.

MARTIN:
(As OTLEY goes R..)
Thanks.

Exit OTLEY R.
.

MARTIN smiles at LEATHERS, who has brought up a chair
.

Alfred, do you believe we’re ghosts too?

LEATHERS: I know I often feel like one.

MARTIN: That’s not what I meant.

LEATHERS: Then I wouldn’t know what you mean. But what
I
mean is that I’ve been acting too long – and – as the youngsters like to say it – I’ve
had
it. In fact, the Theatre’s
had
it. We’ve had one or two hold-ups down on the stage this last hour, and Pauline and Jimmy Whitefoot and I have been arguing a bit. And I think you’re right – and they’re wrong. The Theatre’s finished and we might as well admit it.

MARTIN:
(Smoothly.)
It was different when you were young, of course, – eh?

LEATHERS:
(Expanding.)
Different? I should think it was.

MARTIN: You’ve seen some great nights in the Theatre, I imagine, Alfred.

LEATHERS: I have, Martin. And they’ll never come again. Don’t forget that in my time I’ve played with Irving, Ellen Terry, Tree, Mrs. Pat –

MARTIN: Great names, Alfred.

LEATHERS:
(Clearly echoing Stokes’ speech.)
Ah! – but the Theatre
was
the Theatre in those days, Martin. It was all the public had and so we all did our best with it. None of your films and radio and television and the rest of ’em
then
. It was the
Theatre
and the Theatre as it ought to be. Now they’ll go to anything –

MARTIN: Just a rage for silly amusement –

LEATHERS: You’ve taken the words out of my mouth. Yes, silly amusement – and it’s all money, money, money –

MARTIN: The Theatre’s dying – though it may last out your time –

LEATHERS: Yes, thank God! – but I don’t give it much longer –

MARTIN: The old spirit’s gone –

LEATHERS: Right! The plays aren’t the same –

MARTIN: The audiences aren’t the same –

LEATHERS: And the actors –

MARTIN finishes this with him
.

(With MARTIN.)
– aren’t the same.
(LEATHERS looks at MARTIN humorously.)
Here – this is a duet.

MARTIN: Well, you see, Alfred, I know that speech about the dying Theatre. I’ve heard it before tonight.

LEATHERS: Not from me you haven’t

MARTIN: No, but from somebody rather like you – only he was talking a hundred years ago, and it was panoramas then and not films and he’d acted with Kean and Mrs. Glover in his youth instead of Irving and Ellen Terry –

LEATHERS: Who had?

MARTIN: This old actor I heard –

LEATHERS: Heard? Where?

MARTIN: Here is this Green Room. Just the place to hear it.

LEATHERS: Ah – I see – you’ve been dreaming.

WHITEFOOT: That’s the stuff, Martin!

Both turn away while PAULINE lingers
.

MARTIN: Hang on a minute, Pauline. I’ve a call coming through that will interest you.

She turns enquiringly and hopefully, while the two actors go out L.
.

PAULINE: George Gavin?

MARTIN: Yes. He rang me earlier but now I’ve asked Otley to get through to him as soon as he can. I think you’d like to hear what I say to him.

PAULINE:
(With some excitement.)
I will if you’re going to accept his offer. And you are! What’s happened? Why have you changed your mind?

MARTIN:
(Slowly, reflectively.)
I’ve been thinking about the Theatre. About its being life in miniature, as the old writers, especially Shakespeare, were always saying.

PAULINE:
(Rather impatiently.)
I know. All the world’s a stage – and so on. Rather obvious stuff, I’ve always thought it.

MARTIN:
(As before.)
I wonder if it is – even that. One man – in his time – plays many parts. The man, you see, is distinct from the parts, and his time is the stage on which he plays them. Is it so obvious, Pauline?

PAULINE: Well – perhaps not – if you put it that way. But what about the Theatre?

MARTIN: I believe now that in our life, as in the Theatre, the scenery and costumes and character make-ups and props are only a shadow show, to be packed up and put away when the performance is over. And what’s real and enduring, perhaps indestructible, is all that so many fools imagine to be flimsy and fleeting – the innermost and deepest feelings – the way an honest artist sees his work – the root and heart of a real personal relationship – the flame – the flame burning clear. And Pauline, I believe that for all our vulgar mess of paint and canvas and lights and advertisement, we who work in the Theatre do our share in helping to guard and to show that flame –

The telephone rings. MARTIN answers it
.

Yes, that’s right – Sir George Gavin… Oh – hello, George… Yes, I am… No, there were some more… Well, call them that if you like, but I’m not so sure… No, that’s where you’re wrong, George. I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to say Yes – yes…if your offer’s still open, I’m coming in with you – Yes, if you like, with every penny I possess… No, I can’t because I’m going to rewrite my third act, but give me a few days and I’ll have a scheme for you… All right then, see you on the First Night here… Do I? Well, perhaps I am. Goodbye, George.

He comes away from the telephone. PAULINE looks at him
.