The Mousetrap and Other Plays (84 page)

ROYDE
. What for?

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Never you mind. What an upbringing for a girl. Kay made a dead set at Nevile from the moment they met, and never rested until she got him to leave Audrey and go off with her. I blame Kay entirely for the whole thing.

TREVES
. (
Rising and moving above the coffee table, fairly amused.
) I'm sure you do. You're very fond of Nevile.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Nevile's a fool. Breaking up his marriage for a silly infatuation. It nearly broke poor Audrey's heart. (
To Royde.
) She went to your mother at the Vicarage and practically had a nervous breakdown.

ROYDE
. Er—yes—I know.

TREVES
. When the divorce went through, Nevile married Kay.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. If I had been true to my principles I should have refused to receive them here.

TREVES
. If one sticks too rigidly to one's principles one would hardly see anybody.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. You're very cynical, Mathew—but it's quite true. I've accepted Kay as Nevile's wife—though I shall never really like her. But I must say I was dumbfounded and very much upset, wasn't I, Mary?

MARY
. Yes, you were, Camilla.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. When Nevile wrote asking if he could come home with Kay, under the pretext, if you please, that it would be nice if Audrey and Kay could be friends—(
Scornfully.
) friends—I said I couldn't entertain such a suggestion for a moment and that it would be very painful for Audrey.

TREVES
. (
Putting his glass on the coffee table.
) And what did he say to that?

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. He replied that he had already consulted Audrey and she thought it a good idea.

TREVES
. And did Audrey think it a good idea?

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Apparently, yes. (
She tosses a knot of silk to Mary.
) Unravel that.

MARY
. Well, she said she did, quite firmly.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. But Audrey is obviously embarrassed and unhappy. If you ask me, it's just Nevile being like Henry the Eighth.

ROYDE
. (
Puzzled.
) Henry the Eighth?

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Conscience. Nevile feels guilty about Audrey and is trying to justify himself. (
Mary rises, moves above the armchair
L
.
C
.
and puts the silks in the work-basket.
) Oh! I don't understand
any
of this modern nonsense. (
To Mary.
) Do you? (
Royde puts his glass on the coffee table.
)

MARY
. In a way.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. And you, Thomas?

ROYDE
. Understand Audrey—but I don't understand Nevile. It's not like Nevile.

TREVES
. I agree. Not like Nevile at all, to go looking for trouble. (
Mary transfers Royde's and Treves' glasses to the butler's tray.
)

MARY
. Perhaps it was Audrey's suggestion.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Oh, no. Nevile says it was entirely his idea.

MARY
. Perhaps he thinks it was. (
Treves looks sharply at Mary.
)

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. What a fool the boy is, bringing two women together who are both in love with him. (
Royde looks sharply at Lady Tressilian.
) Audrey has behaved perfectly, but Nevile himself has paid far too much attention to her, and as a result Kay has become jealous, and as she has no kind of self-control, it is all most embarrassing—(
To Treves.
) isn't it? (
Treves, gazing towards the French windows, does not hear.
) Mathew?

TREVES
. There is undeniably a certain tension . . .

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. I'm glad you admit it. (
There is a knock on the door
L
.) Who's that?

MARY
. (
Moving to the door
L
.) Mrs. Barrett, I expect, wanting to know something.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. (
Irritably.
) I wish you could teach these women that they only knock on
bedroom
doors. (
Mary exits
L
.) The last so-called butler we had, actually whistled,
Come into the garden, Maud,
as he served at table. (
Mary enters
L
.)

MARY
. It's only about the lunch, Camilla. I'll see to it. (
Mary exits
L
.)

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. I don't know what I should do without Mary. She's so self-effacing that I sometimes wonder whether she
has
a self of her own.

TREVES
. I know. She's been with you nearly two years now, but what's her background?

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Her father was a professor of some kind, I believe. He was an invalid and she nursed him for years. Poor Mary, she's never had any life of her own. And now, perhaps, it's too late. (
She rises and puts her sewing in the work-box.
)

TREVES
. I wonder. (
He strolls to the French windows.
) They're still playing tennis. (
Royde rises, moves and stands behind Treves, gazing off
R
.)

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Nevile and Kay?

TREVES
. No, Kay and that friend of hers from the
Easterhead Bay Hotel
—young Latimer.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. That theatrical-looking young man. (
She moves to
L
.
of the coffee table.
) Just the sort of friend she would have.

TREVES
. One wonders what he does for a living.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Lives by his wits, I imagine.

TREVES
. (
Moving slowly down
R
.) Or by his looks. A decorative young man. (
Dreamily.
) Interesting shaped head. The last man I saw with a head shaped like that was at the Central Criminal Court—a case of brutal assault on an elderly jeweller.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Mathew! Do you mean to tell me . . . ?

TREVES
. (
Perturbed.
) No, no, no, you misunderstand me. I am making no suggestion of any kind. I was only commenting on a matter of anatomical structure.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Oh, I thought . . .

TREVES
. What reminded me of that was that I met a very old friend of mine this morning, Superintendent Battle of Scotland Yard. He's staying down here on holiday with his nephew who's in the local police.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. You and your interest in criminology. The truth is I am thoroughly jumpy—I feel the whole time as though something was going to happen. (
She moves on to the rostrum.
)

TREVES
. (
Crossing and standing down
R
.
of Lady Tressilian.
) Yes, there is a suggestion of gunpowder in the air. One little spark might set off an explosion.

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Must you talk as though you were Guy Fawkes? Say something cheerful.

TREVES
. (
Turning and smiling at her.
) What can I say? “Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them—but not for love.”

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. And he calls that cheerful. I shall go out on the terrace for a little. (
Treves crosses to the French windows and looks off. She moves up
L
.
of the chaise. To Royde, confidentially.
) Don't make a fool of yourself a second time.

ROYDE
. What do you mean?

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. You know quite well what I mean. Last time, you let Nevile walk off with Audrey under your nose.

ROYDE
. (
Moving below the chaise.
) Is it likely she'd have preferred me to Nevile?

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. (
Moving above the chaise.
) She might have—if you'd asked her. (
Royde moves to
L
.
of Lady Tressilian.
) Are you going to ask her this time?

ROYDE
. (
With sudden force.
) You bet your life I am. (
Audrey enters by the French windows. She is very fair and has an Undine-like look. There is something strange about her air of repressed emotion. With Royde she is natural and happy.
)

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. (
As Audrey enters.
) Thank God for that. (
Audrey, with hands outstretched, crosses below Treves and Lady Tressilian to
R
.
of Royde.
)

AUDREY
. Thomas—dear Thomas. (
Royde takes Audrey's hands. Lady Tressilian looks for a moment at Royde and Audrey.
)

LADY
TRESSILIAN
. Mathew, your arm. (
Treves assists Lady Tressilian, and exits with her by the French windows.
)

AUDREY
. (
After a pause.
) It's lovely to see you.

ROYDE
. (
Shyly.
) Good to see you.

AUDREY
. (
Crossing below Royde to
L
.) It's years since you've been home. Don't they give you any leave on rubber plantations?

ROYDE
. I
was
coming home two years ago . . . (
He breaks off awkwardly.
)

AUDREY
. Two years ago! And then you didn't.

ROYDE
. My dear, you know—there were reasons.

AUDREY
. (
Sitting in the armchair
L
.
C
.;
with affection
) Oh, Thomas—you look just the same as when we last met—pipe and all.

ROYDE
. (
Moving to
L
.
of the coffee table, after a pause
) Do I?

AUDREY
. Oh, Thomas—I am so glad you've come back. Now, at last I can talk to someone. Thomas—there's something wrong.

ROYDE
. Wrong?

AUDREY
. Something's changed about this place. Ever since I arrived I've felt there was something not quite right. Don't you feel there's something different? No—how can you, you've only just come. The only person who doesn't seem to feel it is Nevile.

ROYDE
. Damn Nevile!

AUDREY
. You don't like him?

ROYDE
. (
With intensity.
) I hate his guts—always have. (
He quickly recovers himself.
) Sorry.

AUDREY
. I—didn't know . . .

ROYDE
. Lots of things one—doesn't know—about people.

AUDREY
. (
Thoughtfully.
) Yes—lots of things.

ROYDE
. Gather there's a spot of bother. What made you come here at the same time as Nevile and his new wife? Did you have to agree?

AUDREY
. (
Rising and standing
L
.
of the armchair
L
.
C
.) Yes. Oh, I know you can't understand . . .

ROYDE
. (
Moving to
R
.
of the armchair
L
.
C
.) But I do understand. I know all about it. (
Audrey looks doubtfully at Royde.
) I know exactly what you've been through—(
With meaning.
) But it's all
past,
Audrey, it's
over.
You must forget the past and think of the future. (
Nevile enters by the French windows and moves up
R
.
of the chaise.
)

NEVILE
. Hullo, Audrey, where have you been all the morning? (
Audrey moves to
R
.
of the easy chair down
L
.
Royde moves above the coffee table.
)

AUDREY
. I haven't been anywhere particular.

NEVILE
. I couldn't find you anywhere. What about coming down to the beach for a swim before lunch?

AUDREY
. (
Crossing to the coffee table.
) No, I don't think so. (
She looks among the magazines on the table. Royde moves on to the rostrum.
) Have you seen this week's
London Illustrated News?

NEVILE
. (
Moving to
R
.
of Audrey.
) No. Come on—the water will be really warm today.

AUDREY
. Actually, I told Mary I'd go into Saltington with her to shop.

NEVILE
. Mary won't mind. (
Audrey picks up a magazine. He takes her hand.
) Come on, Audrey.