The Mousetrap and Other Plays (82 page)

SIR
WILFRID
. (
Thunderstruck.
) My God!

ROMAINE
. (
As herself
) Yes, the woman with the letters. I wrote those letters. I brought them to you. I was that woman. It wasn't
you
who won freedom for Leonard. It was
I.
And because of it I shall go to prison. (
Her eyes close.
) But at the end of it Leonard and I will be together again. Happy—loving each other.

SIR
WILFRID
. (
Moved.
) My dear . . . But couldn't you trust me? We believe, you know, that our British system of justice upholds the truth. We'd have got him off.

ROMAINE
. I couldn't risk it. (
Slowly.
) You see, you
thought
he was innocent . . .

SIR
WILFRID
. (
With quick appreciation.
) And you
knew
he was innocent. I understand.

ROMAINE
. But you do not understand at all.
I
knew he was
guilty.

SIR
WILFRID
. (
Thunderstruck.
) But aren't you afraid?

ROMAINE
. Afraid?

SIR
WILFRID
. Of linking your life with a murderer's.

ROMAINE
. You don't understand—we love each other.

SIR
WILFRID
. The first time I met you I said you were a very remarkable woman—I see no reason to change my opinion. (
Crosses and exits up
C
.)

WARDER
. (
Off up
L
.) It's no good going in there, miss. It's all over.

(
There is a COMMOTION off up
L
.
and then a
GIRL
comes running on up
L
.
She is a very young strawberry blonde with a crude, obvious appeal. She rushes to
LEONARD
through the
Q
.
C
.
's bench and meets him down
R
.
C
.)

GIRL
. Len, darling, you're free. (
She embraces him
) Isn't it wonderful? They're trying to keep me out. Darling, it's been awful. I've been nearly crazy.

ROMAINE
. (
With sudden violent harshness.
) Leonard—who—is—this girl!

GIRL
. (
To
ROMAINE
,
defiantly.
) I'm Len's girl. I know all about
you.
You're not his wife. Never have been. (
She crosses to
R
.
of
ROMAINE
.) You're years older than him, and you just got hold of him—and you've done your best to hang him. But that's all over now. (
She turns to
LEONARD
.) We'll go abroad like you said on one of your cruises—to all those grand places. We'll have a wonderful time.

ROMAINE
. Is—this—true? Is she your girl, Leonard?

LEONARD
. (
Hesitates, then decides that the situation must be accepted.
) Yes, she is.

(
The
GIRL
crosses above
LEONARD
to
R
.
of him.
)

ROMAINE
. After all I've done for you . . . What can
she
do for you that can compare with that?

LEONARD
. (
Flinging off all disguise of manner, and showing coarse brutality.
) She's fifteen years younger than you are. (
He laughs.
)

(
ROMAINE
flinches as though struck.
)

(
He crosses to
R
.
of
ROMAINE
.
Menacingly.
) I've got the money. I've been acquitted, and I can't be tried again, so don't go shooting off your mouth, or you'll just get
yourself
hanged as an accessory after the fact. (
He turns to the
GIRL
and embraces her.
)

ROMAINE
. (
Picks up the knife from the table. Throwing her head back in sudden dignity.
) No, that will not happen. I shall not be tried as an accessory after the fact. I shall not be tried for perjury. I shall be tried for murder—(
She stabs
LEONARD
in the back.
) the murder of the only man I ever loved.

(
LEONARD
drops. The
GIRL
screams. Mayhew bends over
LEONARD
,
feels his pulse and shakes his head.
)

(
She looks up at the
JUDGE
'
S
seat.
) Guilty, my lord.

CURTAIN

Towards Zero

Presented by Peter Saunders at the James's Theatre, London, on the 4th September, 1956, with the following cast of characters:

(
In the order of their appearance
)

Directed by
M
URRAY
M
AC
D
ONALD

Décor by
M
ICHAEL
W
EIGHT

SYNOPSIS OF SCENES

The action of the play passes in the drawing room at Gull's Point, Lady Tressilian's house at Saltcreek, Cornwall.

ACT
I

S
CENE
1
:
 
  A morning in September.

S
CENE
2
:
 
  After dinner, four days later.

ACT
II

S
CENE
1
:
 
  Early the following morning.

S
CENE
2
:
 
  Two hours later.

ACT
III

S
CENE
1
:
 
  The next morning.

S
CENE
2
:
 
  The same evening.

T
IME
: The present

ACT ONE

Scene I

SCENE
:
The drawing room at Gull's Point, Lady Tressilian's house at Saltcreek, Cornwall. A morning in September. It is a large, very beautiful room, obviously belonging to somebody with exquisite taste. It has been furnished to combine elegance with comfort. There is a deep, arched alcove up
R
.
with French windows opening on to a terrace overlooking the garden and tennis court. A large curved-bay window up
L
.,
with a built-in window-seat, shows a view across the river to Easterhead Bay, with a large hotel on the cliff opposite. This window is slightly raised above the rest of the stage on a platform or rostrum. A door down
L
.
leads to the other parts of the house. There is a chaise-longue
R
.
C
.;
easy chairs down
R
.
and down
L
.
and armchairs
L
.
C
.
and
R
.
In the alcove
R
.
there is a bureau-bookcase with a carver chair, a small table and an upright chair. A wastepaper basket stands
L
.
of the bureau. Down
R
.
there is a small table, and on it a framed photograph of Audrey. A standing work-basket is
R
.
of the armchair
L
.
C
.
On the rostrum in the bay window is a low butler's tray with a variety of drinks and glasses. A large circular coffee table stands
C
.
A low bookcase, with a table-lamp on it, is
L
.
of the window and there is a corner table
R
.
of the window. On the window-seat, at the
L
.
end is a portable record player with some loose records. At night the room is lit by electric-candle wall-brackets down
L
.
and above and below the alcove
R
.
The switches are below the door down
L
.

When the curtain rises, the room is empty. An incongruous carpet sweeper stands negligently against the easy chair down
L
.
Thomas Royde enters immediately by the French windows. He is a bronzed middle-aged man, good-looking in a rugged way. He carries a suitcase and a set of golf clubs. As he reaches the upstage end of the chaise, the door down
L
.
is banged by someone as though rushing out of the room. Royde shrugs, moves to the window bay, puts his case and clubs at the
L
.
end of it, opens the
C
.
sash of the window, then takes his pipe and pouch from his pocket and stands gazing out of the window and filling his pipe. Kay Strange rushes in
R
.
She is dressed in tennis kit and carries a towel. Clearly upset about something, she does not see Royde, tosses the towel on the chaise, goes to the table down
R
.
and takes a cigarette from the box on it. As she does so, she sees the photograph of Audrey, drops the cigarette, picks up the photograph, rips it from the frame, tears it in half and throws it angrily into the wastepaper basket. Royde turns sharply. Kay pauses a moment, then looks round and sees Royde. She looks at once like a guilty child and is for a moment too startled to say anything.

KAY
. Oh! Who are you?

ROYDE
. (
Moving to
R
.
of the rostrum
) I've just walked up from the bus stop. I'm . . .

KAY
. (
Interrupting.
) I know who you are. You're the man from Malaya.

ROYDE
. (
Gravely.
) Yes, I'm the man from Malaya.

KAY
. (
Moving to the coffee table
C
.) I just—came in, to get a cigarette. (
She takes a cigarette from the box on the coffee table, crosses to the French windows and turns.
) Oh, hell, what's the good of explaining? What do I care what
you
think, anyway? (
Kay rushes out
R
.
Royde stares thoughtfully after her. Mary Aldin enters
L
.
She is a dark-haired woman of about thirty-six, pleasant and noncommittal in manner and entirely competent. Nevertheless there is something faintly intriguing about her reserve. Royde turns to Mary.
)

MARY
. (
Moving
L
.
C
.) Mr. Royde? (
Royde moves to
R
.
of Mary and shakes hands with her.
) Lady Tressilian is not down yet. I am Mary Aldin—Lady Tressilian's dogsbody.

ROYDE
. Dogsbody?

MARY
. The official term is secretary—but as I don't know shorthand and such talents I have are purely domestic, “dogsbody” is a much better word.

ROYDE
. I know all about you. Lady Tressilian told me in her Christmas letter what a wonderful difference you had made to her.

MARY
. I've very fond of her. She has a lot of personality.