The Collected Shorter Plays Read Free

. you’ll have to get down, Mr. Slocum, and help me from the rear. [
Pause
.] What was that? [
Pause. Aggrieved
.] This is all yoursuggestion, Mr. Slocum, not mine. Drive on, Sir, drive on.
MR. SLOCUM
[
switching off engine
] I’m coming, Mrs. Rooney, I’m coming, give me time, I’m as stiff as yourself. [
Sound of Mr. Slocum extracting himself from driver’s seat
.]
MRS. ROONEY
Stiff! Well I like that! And me heaving all over back and front. [
To herself
.] The dry old reprobate!
MR. SLOCUM
[
in position behind her
] Now, Mrs. Rooney, how shall we do this?
MRS. ROONEY
As if I were a bale, Mr. Slocum, don’t be afraid. [
Pause. Sounds of effort
.] That’s the way! [
Effort
.] Lower! [
Effort
.] Wait! [
Pause
.] No, don’t let go! [
Pause
.] Suppose I do get up, will I ever get down?
MR. SLOCUM
[
breathing hard
] You’ll get down, Mrs. Rooney, you’ll get down. We may not get you up, but I warrant you we’ll get you down.
[
He resumes his efforts. Sound of these
.]
MRS. ROONEY
Oh! . . . Lower! . . . Don’t be afraid! . . . We’re past the age when . . . There! . . . Now! . . . Get your shoulder under it. . . . Oh! . . . [
Giggles
.] Oh glory! . . . Up! Up! . . . Ah! . . . I’m in! [
Panting
of
Mr. Slocum. He slams the door. In a scream
.] My frock! You’ve nipped my frock! [
Mr. Slocum opens the door. Mrs. Rooney frees her frock. Mr. Slocum slams the door. His violent unintelligible muttering as he walks round to the other door. Tearfully
.] My nice frock! Look what you’ve done to my nice frock! [
Mr. Slocum gets into his seat, slams driver’s door, presses starter. The engine does not start. He releases starter
.] What will Dan say when he sees me?
MR. SLOCUM
Has he then recovered his sight?
MRS. ROONEY
No, I mean when he knows, what will he say when he feels the hole? [
Mr. Slocum presses starter. As before. Silence
.] What are you doing, Mr. Slocum?
MR. SLOCUM
Gazing straight before me, Mrs. Rooney, through the windscreen, into the void.
MRS. ROONEY
Start her up, I beseech you, and let us be off. This is awful!
MR. SLOCUM
[
dreamily
] All morning she went like a dream and now she is dead. That is what you get for a good deed. [
Pause. Hopefully
.] Perhaps if I were to choke her. [
He does so, presses the starter. The engine roars. Roaring to make himself heard
.] She was getting too much air! [
He throttles down, grinds in his first gear, moves off, changes up in a grinding of gears
.]
MRS. ROONEY
[
in anguish
] Mind the hen! [
Scream of brakes. Squawk of hen
.] Oh, mother, you have squashed her, drive on, drive on! [
The car accelerates. Pause
.] What a death! One minute picking happy at the dung, on the road, in the sun, with now and then a dust bath, and then—bang!—all her troubles over. [
Pause
.] All the laying and the hatching. [
Pause
.] Just one great squawk and then . . . peace. [
Pause
.] They would have slit her weasand in any case. [
Pause
.] Here we are, let me down. [
The car slows down, stops, engine running. Mr. Slocum blows his horn. Pause. Louder. Pause
.] What are you up to now, Mr. Slocum? We are at a standstill, all danger is past and you blow your horn. Now if instead of blowing it now you had blown it at that unfortunate—
[
Horn violently. Tommy the porter appears at top of station steps
.]
MR. SLOCUM
[
calling
] Will you come down, Tommy, and help this lady out, she’s stuck.
[
Tommy descends the steps
.] Open the door, Tommy, and ease her out. [
Tommy opens the door
.]
TOMMY
Certainly, Sir. Nice day for the races, sir. What would you fancy for—
MRS. ROONEY
Don’t mind me. Don’t take any notice of me. I do not exist. The fact is well known.
MR. SLOCUM
Do as you’re asked, Tommy, for the love of God.
TOMMY
Yessir. Now, Mrs. Rooney.
[
He starts pulling her out
.]
MRS. ROONEY
Wait, Tommy, wait now, don’t bustle me, just let me wheel round and get my feet to the ground. [
Her efforts to achieve this
.] Now.
TOMMY
[
pulling her out
] Mind your feather, Ma’am. [
Sounds of