The Mousetrap and Other Plays (55 page)

MAJOR METCALF
. Regular old tabbies' delight.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. I beg your pardon.

MAJOR METCALF
. Er—I mean, yes, I quite see what you mean.

(
CHRISTOPHER
enters Left from the stairs unnoticed.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. No, indeed, I shan't stay here long.

CHRISTOPHER
. (
Laughing
) No. No, I don't suppose you will.

(
CHRISTOPHER
exits into the library up Left.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Really that is a very peculiar young man. Unbalanced mentally, I shouldn't wonder.

MAJOR METCALF
. Think he's escaped from a lunatic asylum?

MRS
.
BOYLE
. I shouldn't be at all surprised.

(
MOLLIE
enters through the archway up Right.
)

MOLLIE
. (
Calling upstairs
) Giles?

GILES
. (
Off
) Yes?

MOLLIE
. Can you shovel the snow away again from the back door?

GILES
. (
Off
) Coming.

(
MOLLIE
disappears through the arch.
)

MAJOR METCALF
. I'll give you a hand, what? (
He rises and crosses up Right to the arch.
) Good exercise. Must have exercise.

(
MAJOR METCALF
exits.
GILES
enters from the stairs, crosses and exits up Right.
MOLLIE
returns, carrying a duster and a vacuum cleaner, crosses the hall and runs upstairs. She collides with
MISS CASEWELL
,
who is coming down the stairs.
)

MOLLIE
. Sorry!

MISS CASEWELL
. That's all right.

(
MOLLIE
exits.
MISS CASEWELL
comes slowly Centre.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Really! What an incredible young woman. Doesn't she know anything about housework? Carrying a carpet sweeper through the front hall. Aren't there any back stairs?

MISS CASEWELL
. (
Taking a cigarette from a packet in her handbag
) Oh yes—nice stairs. (
She crosses to the fire.
) Very convenient if there was a fire. (
She lights the cigarette.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Then why not use them? Anyway, all the housework should have been done in the morning before lunch.

MISS CASEWELL
. I gather our hostess had to cook the lunch.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. All very haphazard and amateurish. There should be a proper staff.

MISS CASEWELL
. Not very easy to get nowadays, is it?

MRS
.
BOYLE
. No, indeed, the lower classes seem to have no idea of their responsibilities.

MISS CASEWELL
. Poor old lower classes. Got the bit between their teeth, haven't they?

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
Frostily
) I gather you are a Socialist.

MISS CASEWELL
. Oh, I wouldn't say that. I'm not a Red—just pale pink. (
She moves to the sofa and sits on the Right arm.
) But I don't take much interest in politics—I live abroad.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. I suppose conditions are much easier abroad.

MISS CASEWELL
. I don't have to cook and clean—as I gather most people have to do in this country.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. This country has gone sadly downhill. Not what it used to be. I sold my house last year. Everything was too difficult.

MISS CASEWELL
. Hotels and guest houses are easier.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. They certainly solve some of one's problems. Are you over in England for long?

MISS CASEWELL
. Depends. I've got some business to see to. When it's done—I shall go back.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. To France?

MISS CASEWELL
. No.

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Italy?

MISS CASEWELL
. No. (
She grins.
)

(
MRS
.
BOYLE
looks at her enquiringly
, but
MISS CASEWELL
does not respond.
MRS. BOYLE
starts writing.
MISS CASEWELL
grins as she looks at her, crosses to the radio, turns it on at first softly, then increases the volume.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
Annoyed, as she is writing
) Would you mind not having that on quite so loud! I always find the radio rather distracting when one is trying to write letters.

MISS CASEWELL
. Do you?

MRS
.
BOYLE
. If you don't particularly want to listen just now . . .

MISS CASEWELL
. It's my favourite music. There's a writing table in there.

(
She nods towards the library door up Left.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. I know. But it's much warmer here.

MISS CASEWELL
. Much warmer, I agree. (
She dances to the music.
)

(
MRS
.
BOYLE
,
after a moment's glare, rises and exits into the library up Left.
MISS CASEWELL
grins, moves to the sofa table, and stubs out her cigarette. She moves up stage and picks up a magazine from the refectory table.
)

Bloody old bitch. (
She moves to the large armchair and sits.
)

(
CHRISTOPHER
enters from the library up Left and moves down Left.
)

CHRISTOPHER
. Oh!

MISS CASEWELL
. Hullo.

CHRISTOPHER
. (
Gesturing back to the library
) Wherever I go that woman seems to hunt me down—and then she glares at me—positively glares.

MISS CASEWELL
. (
Indicating the radio
) Turn it down a bit.

(
CHRISTOPHER
turns the radio down until it is playing quite softly.
)

CHRISTOPHER
. Is that all right?

MISS CASEWELL
. Oh yes, it's served its purpose.

CHRISTOPHER
. What purpose?

MISS CASEWELL
. Tactics, boy.

(
CHRISTOPHER
looks puzzled.
MISS CASEWELL
indicates the library.
)

CHRISTOPHER
. Oh, you mean
her.

MISS CASEWELL
. She'd pinched the best chair. I've got it now.

CHRISTOPHER
. You drove her out. I'm glad. I'm very glad. I don't like her a bit. (
Crossing quickly to
MISS CASEWELL
) Let's think of things we can do to annoy her, shall we? I wish she'd go away from here.

MISS CASEWELL
. In this? Not a hope.

CHRISTOPHER
. But when the snow melts.

MISS CASEWELL
. Oh, when the snow melts lots of things may have happened.

CHRISTOPHER
. Yes—yes—that's true. (
He goes to the window.
) Snow's rather lovely, isn't it? So peaceful—and pure . . . It makes one forget things.

MISS CASEWELL
. It doesn't make me forget.

CHRISTOPHER
. How fierce you sound.

MISS CASEWELL
. I was thinking.

CHRISTOPHER
. What sort of thinking? (
He sits on the windowseat.
)

MISS CASEWELL
. Ice on a bedroom jug, chilblains, raw and bleeding—one thin ragged blanket—a child shivering with cold and fear.

CHRISTOPHER
. My dear, it sounds too, too grim—what is it? A novel?

MISS CASEWELL
. You didn't know I was a writer, did you?

CHRISTOPHER
. Are you? (
He rises and moves down to her.
)

MISS CASEWELL
. Sorry to disappoint you. Actually I'm not. (
She puts the magazine up in front of her face.
)

(
CHRISTOPHER
looks at her doubtfully, then crosses Left, turns up the radio very loud and exits into the drawing room. The telephone rings.
MOLLIE
runs down the stairs, duster in hand, and goes to the telephone.
)

MOLLIE
. (
Picking up the receiver
) Yes? (
She turns off the radio.
) Yes—this is Monkswell Manor Guest House . . . What? . . . No, I'm afraid Mr. Ralston can't come to the telephone just now. This is Mrs. Ralston speaking. Who . . . ? The Berkshire Police . . . ?

(
MISS CASEWELL
lowers her magazine.
)

Oh yes, yes, Superintendent Hogben, I'm afraid that's impossible. He'd never get here. We're snowed up. Completely snowed up. The roads are impassable . . .

(
MISS CASEWELL
rises and crosses to the arch up Left.
)

Nothing can get through . . . Yes . . . Very well . . . But what . . . Hullo—hullo . . . (
She replaces the receiver.
)

(
GILES
enters up Right wearing an overcoat. He removes the overcoat and hangs it up in the hall.
)

GILES
. Mollie, do you know where there's another spade?

MOLLIE
. (
Moving up Centre
) Giles, the police have just rung up.

MISS CASEWELL
. Trouble with police, eh? Serving liquor without a licence?

(
MISS CASEWELL
exits Left up the stairs.
)

MOLLIE
. They're sending out an inspector or a sergeant or something.

GILES
. (
Moving to Right of
MOLLIE
) But he'll never get here.

MOLLIE
. That's what I told them. But they seemed quite confident that he would.

GILES
. Nonsense. Even a jeep couldn't get through today. Anyway, what's it all about?

MOLLIE
. That's what I asked. But he wouldn't say. Just said I was to impress on my husband to listen very carefully to what Sergeant Trotter, I think it was, had to say, and to follow his instructions implicitly. Isn't it extraordinary?

GILES
. (
Moving down to the fire
) What on earth do you think we've done?

MOLLIE
. (
Moving to Left of
GILES
) Do you think it's those nylons from Gibraltar?

GILES
. I did remember to get the wireless licence, didn't I?

MOLLIE
. Yes, it's in the kitchen dresser.

GILES
. I had rather a near shave with the car the other day but it was entirely the other fellow's fault.

MOLLIE
. We must have done something . . .

GILES
. (
Kneeling and putting a log on the fire
) Probably something to do with running this place. I expect we've ignored some tinpot regulation of some Ministry or other. You practically can't avoid it, nowadays. (
He rises and faces
MOLLIE
.)

MOLLIE
. Oh dear, I wish we'd never started this place. We're going to be snowed up for days, and everyone is cross, and we shall go through all our reserve of tins.

GILES
. Cheer up, darling, (
He takes
MOLLIE
in his arms
) everything's going all right at the moment. I've filled up all the coalscuttles, and brought in the wood, and stoked the Aga and done the hens. I'll go and do the boiler next, and chop some kindling . . . (
He breaks off.
) You know, Mollie, (
He moves slowly up to Right of the refectory table
) come to think of it, it must be something pretty serious to send a police sergeant trekking out in all this. It must be something really urgent . . .

(
GILES
and
MOLLIE
look at each other uneasily.
MRS. BOYLE
enters from the library up Left.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. (
Coming to Left of the refectory table
) Ah, there you are, Mr. Ralston. Do you know the central heating in the library is practically stone cold?

GILES
. Sorry, Mrs. Boyle, we're a bit short of coke and . . .

MRS
.
BOYLE
. I am paying seven guineas a week here—seven guineas—and I do not want to freeze.

GILES
. I'll go and stoke it up.

(
GILES
exits by the archway up Right.
MOLLIE
follows him to the arch.
)

MRS
.
BOYLE
. Mrs. Ralston, if you don't mind my saying so, that is a very extraordinary young man you have staying here. His manners—and his ties—and does he ever brush his hair?

MOLLIE
. He's an extremely brilliant young architect.