Doctors of Philosophy (10 page)

ANNIE.
Why are you counting on your fingers?

CHARLIE.
She wants to prove that she has a scholarly mind.

CATHERINE.
Four, since it is extremely unlikely that she could have recovered from a serious mental lapse within three weeks by natural means one must look for supernatural means. Hence, it is not entirely unreasonable to suppose that Leonora has been dabbling in witchcraft.

CHARLIE
. Shut up.

CATHERINE.
Women who practised the black arts in the Middle Ages frequently lost their senses for brief periods and made obscene suggestions.

CHARLIE.
It wasn’t an obscene suggestion. Leonora only wanted to sleep with me, that’s all. A perfectly healthy and natural instinct.

CATHERINE.
No, Charlie, no. She didn’t say that, she said, ‘Give me a child, I want a—’

C
HARLIE.
I really must get the tape out of this machine. Annie, do you know how it works?

CATHERINE.
I shall ask Leonora to leave.

CHARLIE
. Shut up.

A
NNIE.
Don’t ask me to touch machines when I’ve just got my nails beautifully lacquered for young Charlie. Everything must be perfect for Charlie’s Ritzy lunch. It’s his first and it might be the last. Do you want me to sound young Charlie on what he’s prepared to accept in final settlement?

C
HARLIE.
Settlement of what?

A
NNIE.
The marriage.

C
HARLIE.
Tell him I’ll have him in court for paternity.

L
EONORA’S VOICE.
… a child …

ANNIE
goes out.

C
HARLIE.
Daphne will have to come and fix this. I’ve made a mess of it.
(Shouts.)
Daphne!

CATHERINE.
You said that Leonora was putting on an act.

C
HARLIE.
I didn’t mean it.

CATHERINE.
It’s a strange admission for a prospective professor of economics to say that he said what he didn’t mean.

C
HARLIE.
I was not on the lecture platform. One is entitled to say what one doesn’t mean in one’s own home.
(Shouts.)
Daphne!

Enter
MRS. S.

M
RS.
S. She’s upstairs with her stomach. Are young Charlie’s ma and pa Ph.D.’s?

CATHERINE.
No, they’re not.

M
RS.
S. Are they academics of any variety?

CATHERINE.
No, they’re in cement.

M
RS.
S. Well, that’s one good thing. It’ll improve the stock, if you know your eugenics, not to mention ethnology.

Enter
DAPHNE.

D
APHNE.
What do you think you’re doing? You’ve unwound it wrong.

C
HARLIE.
Well, do something, don’t just—

D
APHNE
(as she rushes out, sick).
Oh, I’m dying. M
RS.
S. You should mind how you speak to Daphne in her condition. What time they coming tonight?

CATHERINE.
Seven-thirty for eight.

C
HARLIE.
Who’s coming?

CATHERINE.
The Westons are coming to dinner.

MRS. S
. Chicken Maryland. Cucumber salad. Daphne won’t keep it down. She can’t keep down the medicine. Hark at her up there.
(Goes out.)

CHARLIE.
Who are the Westons?

CATHERINE.
Young Charlie’s parents. We are to discuss the young couple’s future.

CHARLIE.
I can’t afford to discuss the young couple’s future. I can’t afford to discuss my own future. The future doesn’t bear thinking of. The whole world is on the verge of starvation if the population increases at its present rate, and you ask me to discuss the future.

CATHERINE.
I’m going to leave you, Charlie. I have decided. I’m going to start a new life.

Enter
MRS. S.

M
RS.
S. Annie’s laid out her scarlet velvet to wear tonight. She seems to think that it’s going to be an occasion.

CATHERINE.
The one with the enormous skirt. Annie will have to pack and go. We owe it to Daphne. Annie must leave us this afternoon.

M
RS.
S. I told her, I said, ‘Annie, it isn’t a celebration tonight, it’s a sober reckoning of the fruits of sin.’

CHARLIE.
If you mean to insult my daughter, Mrs. S., you can go. Your cards are stamped up to date.

CATHERINE.
Charlie, I suggest you go and stay at your club, or get a flat somewhere. Just leave the house. I can manage without you, but I can’t manage without Mrs. S.

M
RS.
S. No, Mrs. D., what’s said can’t be unsaid. I take my cards this instant. Lunch is in the oven, help yourselves.

Enter
LEONORA.

L
EONORA.
I feel terrible.

C
HARLIE.
What’s the matter, Leonora?

LEONORA.
I’m frightened.

CATHERINE.
Have a drink, Leonora. What’s the matter ?

LEONORA.
I’ve done something with my life for the first time in my life.

M
RS.
S. Never!

L
EONORA.
I’ve accepted a four-year lectureship in America. I sent off a wire early this morning. I might have a confirmation of the appointment by this evening. It frightens me.

M
RS.
S. Oh go on, Leonora, have a bash at it.

CATHERINE.
Four years!

L
EONORA.
Four years at least.

CATHERINE.
What shall I do without you, Leonora? I depend on my visits to Oxford, and your visits here. We’ve never been parted for four months together, never mind four years.

C
HARLIE.
Is there a man behind this, Leonora?

L
EONORA.
What do you mean? C
HARLIE.
I thought you were rather thick with that professor of Ionic Studies from Columbia when he was over here last summer. Self-opinionated and overpaid. Not your type at all, Leonora. What university are you going to?

L
EONORA.
Columbia.

C
HARLIE.
Oh, Columbia. Yes, I thought as much. I warn you, Leonora, the man’s a—

MRS. S
. I quote from Hoffenbinder’s
Psychology of the Intellectual,
vol. two, page 368: ‘The academic environment frequently produces inconsistencies of attitude in the private life of the intellectual. In fact, it may be generally concluded that the more consistent the train of thought or public attitude in the developed intellect, the less consistency is to be observed in the private attitudes and utterances of the individual full stop.’

CATHERINE.
Yes, quite, Mrs. S. Leonora, we’ve welcomed you into our home. You’ve come with us on our holidays. We’ve given you every consideration and assistance that a family could give. Charlie has filled in your tax returns year after year. And now, just when we’ve been going out of our minds all morning over Daphne, you walk in and you say you’re going to America. You don’t mean this?

CHARLIE.
Can you do anything with this tape machine, Leonora?

LEONORA.
I do mean it.
(Looks at tape machine.)
But I’m afraid. That’s all I know.

CURTAIN

END OF SCENE I

S
AME DAY.
S
AME ROOM.

D
APHNE
fixing tape recorder,
MRS. S.
watching.

MRS.
S. You got it working all right?

D
APHNE.
Yes.

M
RS.
S. You better take it back before it does any more harm. What did you do with the talkative portion?

D
APHNE.
I put it in the stove. Have you got ten bob on you, Mrs. S.?

M
RS.
S. Not today I haven’t. What you want it for?

D
APHNE.
I want to send this over to Kensington in a taxi.

M
RS.
S. Why don’t you take it yourself on the bus? Do you good to get out of all this and see some old friends. You owe me thirty-five and eight already, you know.

D
APHNE.
You can have it on Monday. I don’t want to go to Kensington. I just don’t want to see anybody, any old friends, nobody.

M
RS.
S. Why not? You aren’t showing yet. Let’s have a look. I should say you would carry it behind when you start to show.

D
APHNE.
I might be sick. I would be sure to be sick.

M
RS.
S. Send young Charlie.

D
APHNE.
He’s having lunch at the Ritz with Annie. She doesn’t ask me to lunch at the Ritz, you’ll observe.

MRS. S
. You’d a fetched it all up. Waste a money. Send young Charlie when he comes back all aglow with his melon frappé followed by sole meunière accompanied with Chablis followed by Armagnac and wrapped in a cloud of contentment over Annie’s talk. ‘Darling young Charlie, it’s going to be so thrilling having another Ph.D. in the family, especially a handsome one for a change.’

Enter
Annie.

Annie. Charlie is heavenly, Daphne. When he does talk, it’s thrilling. He asked me to tell you he’s got an appointment this afternoon but he’ll be along later with his parents. I met Charlie out there just now, he’s got a new van. Where’s Charlie, is he in?

D
APHNE.
Will you lend me ten bob till Monday, Annie?

A
NNIE.
Of course, if you mean it literally. But if you’re being allegorical I’m afraid I haven’t got anything till Michaelmas.

M
RS.
S. No, you don’t spend ten bob on taxi-cabs, if Charlie’s outside with a van.
(Goes out on the terrace.)
Charlie! — Here, Charlie, we need your services, my good man.

Enter
CHARLIE BROWN
.

C
HARLIE B.
I was just about to pay you a call in any case. Coincidence. Where’s the doctor?

M
RS.
S. Leonora’s quit practice. She has taken the step of accepting a job in America, like they all do sooner or later.

C
HARLIE B.
(sitting down).
I have something to unburden myself of to the doctor. Developments in my life. Make us a cup of tea.

MRS. S
.
goes.

D
APHNE.
Charlie, could you run this machine over to an address in Kensington for me?

CHARLIE B
. Tomorrow morning I could, not today I couldn’t. My time’s not my own. I’m doing urgent delivery work, TV replacement service. People waiting.

D
APHNE.
What time could you take it tomorrow?

CHARLIE B.
Ten sharp.

D
APHNE.
Annie, could you make a telephone call for me? Kensington 9082. Some people I don’t want to talk to, the Dolphins. Tell them the tape recorder will be delivered tomorrow at half past ten.

ANNIE.
May I tell Mary you’re engaged to marry a charming young nuclear physicist without delay?

D
APHNE. NO.
Whatever you do, don’t mention nuclear physicist. It’s a disgrace to be engaged to a nuclear physicist. You just say, ‘Daphne is sending Eunice’s tape recorder tomorrow at about half past ten.’ What are you to say?

ANNIE
(holding imaginary telephone).
Hallo — Mary? This is Annie. I’m lovely, thank you, how are you? Listen, Mary, I’ve got a message for Eunice from Daphne. She’s returning the tape recorder tomorrow at half past ten. Charlie will bring it. No, dear, Charlie Brown, you don’t know him. No, Mary, no, Daphne can’t come to the telephone, she’s got stomach trouble, tell Eunice. No, nothing serious, it will just take time.

Enter
MRS. S
. with cup of tea for
CHARLIE.

Will she — ? Just a minute, I’ll ask her —. Daphne, will you be fit to sit in Trafalgar Square next week?

M
RS.
S. No, and a good thing too. It gives you piles sitting on the pavement. Besides, she’ll be on her honeymoon.

Goes out.

D
APHNE.
That’s highly questionable.

ANNIE
(into imaginary telephone).
It’s highly questionable. I must run now, Mary, I’ve got to change for dinner. I know Mary, I know it’s only three-fifteen, but this is a dress rehearsal. Yes, I’ll ring again. Goodbye.

CHARLIE B.
Good for Annie! You should be on the stage.

ANNIE.
Charlie, it’s very odd that you should say that. It’s exactly what my C.O. in the Wrens said when we were having a little argument about the length of my hair. I said, ‘I’m not going to have it cut short, that’s all. — Not when I’m having all this success I’m not going to cut off my hair; it goes beautifully with my uniform and my tricorn hat, as you can see for yourself.’ Well, she just looked at me and she said, ‘You should be on the stage.’

D
APHNE.
Kensington 9082.

Exit
ANNIE.

LEONORA
enters by French windows.

CHARLIE B.
Hallo doctor, I been waiting for you.

LEONORA.
Good afternoon, Charlie. Daphne, how are you feeling?