Jumpers (8 page)

The Front Door opens and
ARCHIE
enters, and stops just inside
the door, almost closing it behind him. He stands listening
—
an impressive figure, exquisitely dressed: orchid in buttonhole, cigarette in long black holder, and everything which those details suggest. He carefully opens the door of the Study. The
SECRETARY
looks up. She nods at him, but it is impossible to draw any conclusions from that
.

ARCHIE
withdraws, closing the door. He comes downstage and looks along the corridor into the Kitchen wing. He returns to the Front Door and opens it wide
.

SEVEN JUMPERS
in yellow tracksuits enter smoothly
,
FOUR
of them carry a machine of ambiguous purpose: it might be a television camera. They also carry a couple of lights on tall stands, suitable for filming (these items may be all in one box
).
SIX
enter the Bedroom
,
ARCHIE
opening the door for them
.
ONE JUMPER
goes downstage to watch the Kitchen exit.
In the Bedroom
,
DOTTY
is surprised but pleased by the entry of
ARCHIE
and the
JUMPERS
.
They put down the ‘camera
'
and the
lights. They have come to remove the body
.

The song dominates the whole scene. Nothing else can be heard, and its beat infects the business of removing the body, for
DOTTY
continues to sway and snap her fingers as she moves about welcoming the troops, and the
JUMPERS
lightly respond, so
that the effect is a little simple improvised choreography between the
JUMPERS
and
DOTTY
.

ARCHIE
moves downstage, facing front, and like a magician about to demonstrate a trick, takes from his pocket a small square of material like a handkerchief, which he unfolds and unfolds and unfolds until it is a large plastic bag, six-feet tall, which he gives to
TWO JUMPERS
.
These
TWO
hold the mouth of the bag open at the door; as the climax of the ‘dance
'
the
FOUR JUMPERS
throw the body into the bag: bag closes, bedroom door closes
,
JUMPERS
moving smoothly, front door closes, and on the last beat of the song, only
ARCHIE
and
DOTTY
are left on stage
.)

BLACKOUT

END OF ACT ONE

The Bedroom is blacked out, but music still comes from it
—
presumably the next track on the album.
*
Only a minute or two have passed
.

BONES
appears from the Kitchen entrance. He is pushing a well-laden dinner-trolley in front of him. It has on it a covered casserole dish, a bottle of wine in an ice bucket, two glasses, two plates, two of every-thing
…
dinner for two in fact, and very elegant
.

He is followed by
GEORGE
holding a couple of lettuce leaves and a carrot, which he nibbles absently
.

GEORGE
: What do you mean, ‘What does he look like?' He looks like a rabbit with long legs. (
But
BONES
has stopped, listening to Dotty's voice, rather as a man might pause in St. Peter's on hearing choristers
….)

BONES
: That was it…. That was the one she was singing….
I remember how her voice faltered, I saw the tears spring into her eyes, the sobs shaking her breast… and that awful laughing scream as they brought the curtain down on the first lady of the musical stage—never to rise again! Oh yes, there are many stars in the West End night, but there's only ever been one Dorothy Moore….

GEORGE
: Yes, I must say I envy her that. There have not been so many philosophers, but
two
of them have been George Moore, and it tends to dissipate the impact of one's name. But for that, I think my book
Conceptual Problems of Knowledge and Mind
would have caused quite a stir.

BONES
: Any chance of a come-back, sir?

GEORGE
: Well, I'm still hoping to find a publisher for it. I have also made a collection of my essays under the title,
Language, Truth and God
. An American publisher has expressed an interest but he wants to edit it himself and change the title to
You Better Believe It
…. I suppose it would be no worse than benefitting from my wife's gramophone records.

BONES
: A consummate artist, sir. I felt it deeply when she retired.

GEORGE
: Unfortunately she retired from consummation about the same time as she retired from artistry.

BONES
: It was a personal loss, really.

GEORGE
: Quite. She just went off it. I don't know why.

BONES
(
coming round to him at last
): You don't have to explain to me, sir. You can't keep much from her hard-core fans. Actually, I had a brother who had a nervous breakdown.
It's a terrible thing. It's the pressure, you know. The appalling pressure of being a star.

GEORGE
: Was your brother a star?

BONES
: No, he was an osteopath. Bones the Bones, they called him. Every patient had to make a little joke. It drove him mad, finally.
(
They have been approaching the Bedroom door, but
BONES
suddenly abandons the trolley and takes
GEORGE
downstage
.)
(
Earnestly
.) You see, Dorothy is a delicate creature, like a lustrous-eyed little bird you could hold in your hand, feeling its little brittle bones through its velvety skin—vulnerable, you understand; highly strung. No wonder she broke under the strain. And you don't get over it, just like that. It can go on for years, the effect, afterwards—building up again, underneath, until, one day—
Snap!
—do something violent perhaps, quite out of character, you know what I mean? It would be like a blackout. She wouldn't know what she was doing. (
He grips
GEORGE
'
s elbow
.) And I should think that
any competent or, better still, eminent psychiatric expert witness would be prepared to say so. Of course, he wouldn't be cheap, but it can be done, do you follow me?

GEORGE
(
puzzled
): I'm not sure that I do.

BONES
: Well, your wife says you can explain everything, and you say you are wholly responsible, but——

GEORGE
: Are you still going on about that?—for goodness sake,
I just lost my temper for a moment, that's all, and took matters into my own hands.

BONES
: Because of the noise?

GEORGE
: Exactly.

BONES
: Don't you think it was a bit extreme?

GEORGE
: Yes, yes, I suppose it was a bit.

BONES
: Won't wash, Wilfred. I believe you are trying to shield her.

GEORGE
: Shield who?

BONES
: It's quite understandable. Is there a man who could stand aside when this fair creature is in trouble——

GEORGE
: Aren't you getting a little carried away? The point is, surely, that I'm the householder and I must be held responsible for what happens in my house.

BONES
: I don't think the burden of being a householder extends to responsibility for any crime committed on the premises.

GEORGE
: Crime? You call that a crime?

BONES
(
with more heat
): Well, what would you call it?

GEORGE
: It was just a bit of
fun!
Where's your sense of humour, man?

BONES
(
staggered
): I don't know, you bloody philosophers are all the same, aren't you? A man is dead and you're as cool as you like. Your wife begged me with tears in her eyes to go easy on you, and I don't mind admitting I was deeply moved——

GEORGE
: Excuse me——

BONES
(
angrily
): But you're wasted on her, mate. What on earth made
her
marry
you
, I'll never know, when there are so many better men—decent, strong, protective, understanding, sensitive——

GEORGE
: Did you say somebody was dead?

BONES
: Stone dead, in the bedroom.

GEORGE
: Don't be ridiculous.

BONES
: The body is lying on the floor!

GEORGE
(
going to Door
): You have obviously taken leave of your
senses.

BONES
: Don't touch it!—it will have to be examined for finger-prints.

GEORGE
: If there is a body on the floor, it will have my
footprints
on it.
(
He opens the Bedroom door. In the Bedroom, no one is in view. The drapes
—
or screens
—
are round the bed. The ambiguous machine
—
the dermatograph
—
is set up so that it peers with its lens through the drapes. The camera-lights are in position round the bed, shining down over the drapes into the bed. The TV set is connected by a lead to the dermatograph
.
GEORGE
pauses in the doorway
.)

ARCHIE
(
within
):… There…

DOTTY
(
within
):… Yes…

ARCHIE
: There… there…

DOTTY
: Yes…

ARCHIE
:… and there…

DOTTY
: Yes… yes.
(
These sounds are consistent with a proper doctor-patient relationship. If
DOTTY
has a tendency to gasp slightly it is probably because the stethoscope is cold
,
ARCHIE
on the other hand, might be getting rather overheated under the blaze of the dermatograph lights
.)

ARCHIE
(
within
): Excuse me…
(
ARCHIE
'
s coat comes sailing over the drapes
.
GEORGE
retreats, closing the door
.)

GEORGE
: Well, he's very much alive now.

BONES
: Sir?

GEORGE
: My wife's doctor.

BONES
: Really? On the floor?

GEORGE
: He's a psychiatrist, notorious for his methods. And for much else. (
On this bitter note
,
GEORGE
goes into the Study
,
BONES
,
with
the trolley, cautiously enters the Bedroom. No one is in view
.
BONES
pauses. One of
ARCHIE
's shoes comes over the drapes and falls on the floor. Another pause. The second shoe comes over, falling into
BONES
'
s hands. The absence of a thump brings
ARCHIE
's
head into view, popping up over the drapes
.)

ARCHIE
: Ah! Good morning!
(
ARCHIE
moves to come out from the bed. Meanwhile
DOTTY
looks over the top
.)

DOTTY
: Lunch! And Bonesy!
(
ARCHIE
picks his coat up and hands it to
BONES
,
and then readies himself to put his arms in the sleeves, as though
BONES
were a manservant
.)

ARCHIE
(
slipping on his coat
): Thank you so much. Rather warm in there. The lights, you know.

DOTTY
: Isn't he sweet?

ARCHIE
: Charming. What happened to Mrs. Whatsername?

DOTTY
: No, no, it's Bonesy!

BONES
: Inspector Bones, C.I.D.

DOTTY
(
disappearing
): Excuse me!

ARCHIE
: Bones…? I had a patient named Bones. I wonder if he was any relation?—an osteopath.

BONES
: My brother!

ARCHIE
: Remember the case well. Cognomen Syndrome. My advice to him was to take his wife's maiden name of Foot and carry on from there.

BONES
: He took your advice but unfortunately he got interested in chiropody. He is now in an asylum near Uxbridge.

ARCHIE
: Isn't that interesting? I must write him up. The Cognomen Syndrome is my baby, you know.

BONES
: You discovered it?

ARCHIE
: I've got it. Jumper's the name—my card.

BONES
(
reading off card
): ‘Sir Archibald Jumper, M.D., D.Phil.,
D.Litt., L.D., D.P.M., D.P.T. (
Gym
)'…. What's all that?

ARCHIE
: I'm a doctor of medicine, philosophy, literature and law, with diplomas in psychological medicine and P.T. including gym.

BONES
(
handing back the card
): I see that you are the Vice-Chancellor of Professor Moore's university.

ARCHIE
: Not a bad record, is it? And I can still jump over seven feet.

BONES
: High jump?