your wife died about a couple of years ago, didn't she?
TONY (mystified): Yes, that's right. But ...
CLARA: Well, are you ... this must seem a dreadful impertinence ... but - er - are you by any chance thinking of marrying again?
TONY: Whatever gave you that idea?
CLARA: Nothing. I mean ...Oh drat it, I knew I'd make a mess of this ...
TONY: Hold on. Sit down and have a sherry, then make a fresh start.
CLARA: I'm so sorry ...
Tony gestures her to silence and pours a large sherry for her, whisky for himself. Clara takes a gulp; Tony a sip, and puts his glass down.
TONY: OK? Now, about re-marriage. No, I'm not. No one could ever take Margaret's place.
CLARA: I see. But have you any objection in principle?
TONY: Why on earth ...?
CLARA: Oh lord, it's no good beating about the bush. It's simply that if you've no intention of re-marrying for your own sake, there's nothing to stop you doing it for someone else's, is there?
TONY: (leaping up) WHAT!!!!!!!!?
CLARA: Please, Tony! Let me explain. You know Mrs. Armitage at the Manor ...
TONY: What's she got to do with it. (Incredulous) You're not suggesting ...
CLARA: Oh, for goodness' sake do sit down again. It's hard enough without your prowling around like a caged tiger.
Tony sits, reluctantly
CLARA: Thanks. Now, where the dickens was I? Oh yes. Mrs. Armitage has a young girl helping in the house. From Eastern Europe. She came over to marry a lad she'd met on a student exchange or something of the sort, and he let her down. Now she's threatened with deportation - and she's dead scared of what'll happen to her if she goes back. Says she'd kill herself first.
TONY (relieved of one dreadful notion): Over-dramatisation, surely.
CLARA: Mrs. Armitage thinks not. Anyway, it seems that the only other thing that could save this girl from being sent back to meet her fate is to find an English husband.
TONY: I see. So you're nominating me as the gallant suitor?
CLARA: If that's how you want to put it. Though the boot's really on the other foot.
TONY: You say a young girl. How young?
CLARA: Early twenties, perhaps.
TONY: So I'm easily a generation older. Surely you could find someone a bit less unsuitable.
CLARA: Not likely to be willing. Actually, Anna has apparently been asking questions about you - it suggests some interest. She's not looking for an Adonis, you know -
TONY: Thank you very much!
CLARA: Just a British husband. For whatever length of time it takes to establish a right of residence - a couple of years, perhaps.
TONY: Clara! From someone supposed to uphold the sanctity of marriage, that is frankly shocking.
CLARA: Well, if you've genuine qualms on that score, there's no need to consummate the marriage. Then it would be just a legal fiction.
TONY: Illegal, more like.
CLARA: Is that really a consideration, with the girl's life at stake? (Changing tone) Look, Tony, this isn't for me. It's for a poor girl who's at her wits' end about God knows what trouble she'll be in if you don't bail her out. She's sensible, clean, attractive, good-natured by all accounts ...
TONY: You sound as though you were trying to find a home for a family pet.
CLARA (forcefully): Then look at it like that if it helps. Won't you at least see her? She's waiting outside in the car.
TONY: Well, of all the ... You're putting me in an impossible position ...
CLARA: I'm sorry, but I have to. It's an emergency.
TONY: I suppose we can't leave her stranded out there ... Mind you, I'm not making any promises.
CLARA: Of course not. Thank you. I'll fetch her in. And Tony ...
TONY: Yes?
CLARA: Be kind to her - please.
She goes out. Tony prowls around the room, pondering. He picks up a framed photograph and stares at it. Clara returns with Anna, whom Tony treats very gently.
CLARA: Professor Anderson, this is Anna.
TONY (replacing the photograph): Hello, Anna.
ANNA: How do you do, Professor? You are very kind to receive me like this.
TONY: I'm sorry you had such a long wait outside. Please sit down. Will you have a sherry?
ANNA: Thank you, I should like that. But please make it small.
TONY: Your English is very good.
ANNA: You are kind. My parents insisted that I should learn it well, and we used to listen often to English radio programmes.
TONY: And how are your parents?
CLARA (warning): Tony ...!
ANNA: It is all right, Mrs. Benson. I must learn to face it. (To Tony) They both disappeared several years ago. I think that they must be dead.
TONY: Oh. I'm sorry. Hmm - how hopelessly inadequate that seems!
ANNA: Perhaps they are better so. They had been distressed for a long time about the state of our country. It is not a happy land.
TONY: So you don't want to go back?
ANNA: That is correct. Anything rather than that.
TONY: Even marriage?
ANNA: I do not mean an insult. But for a girl to have to plead for marriage, it is not a pleasant thing - not a becoming thing, even. Yet that is what I must do.
TONY: And you'd be prepared to settle for a husband old enough to be your father?
ANNA: If he is as kind and gentle as my father - and from what Mrs. Benson has told me, I think that you must be.
TONY: Mrs. Benson hasn't had to live with me. (Sotto voce) Thank goodness!
ANNA: No, but these things can be seen.
TONY: And I'm not the romantic type, you know.
ANNA: I came here at the first to join someone who seemed to be romantic. But romantic types are ... not reliable. And reliability is what I need above all things. Professor Anderson, I do not wish to make a great scene of this - it would be embarrassing for you and demeaning for myself - but if you will take me, I promise to do everything that I can to make you not regret it. I ask only for the formality of marriage, not for all that I might expect if you chose me freely. I can live cheaply; I can make my own clothes; I can cook well - ask Mrs. Armitage; I do not ...
TONY: Stop, stop, stop! You don't need to worry about all that. And as for demeaning, it would demean me to be stingy with a wife.
ANNA: Mrs. Benson has said also that you are generous.
TONY: Mrs. Benson has said a damn sight too much!
CLARA: So Derek often tells me. Do I gather that you ..?
TONY: That I've agreed? No, don't rush me. I need time to think it over.
CLARA: How long? We've only got a week.
TONY: You can hardly expect me to decide on five minutes' acquaintance.
CLARA: Of course not. It's all arranged with Mrs. Armitage. Anna can have whatever time off she needs.
TONY: For what?
CLARA: Take her for a walk. Or a run in the car. Talk about her interests. Really, Tony, if you need the Vicar's wife to tell you how to spend a day with a pretty girl, you're not the man I took you for!
TONY: You're taking a hell of a lot for granted!
CLARA: I have to. This is an emergency.
TONY: So it seems. (To Anna) When shall I call for you?
ANNA: It is you who are doing the favour for me. Please say when it will be convenient to yourself.
TONY: Right. Tomorrow, ten o'clock?
ANNA: Yes, that is good. Thank you.
CLARA: And then you'll make your mind up?
TONY: Clara, you're rushing me again.
CLARA: I've told you, we haven't much time.
TONY: Yes, all right. I'll tell you on Sunday. But don't jump to any conclusions!
FADE OUT
Return to Contents
FADE UP TO TONY'S ENTRANCE HALL, WINTER 1983 - 84
The room is almost dark. A flash of lightning is closely followed by a thunder-clap and the sound of heavy rain. After a few moments the f
ront door bursts open, and Tony and Anna tumble in. Tony switches on a light.
TONY: Phew, where did that lot come from? It's lucky we'd only a few yards to dash.
ANNA: But you are out of breath even so. You should take more exercise.
TONY: Now don't you start. I've had quite enough of that from Dr. Ferguson.
ANNA: Well, he is right. You ought to follow his advice.
TONY: Maybe. Are you wet?
ANNA: How could I not be?
TONY: I mean, right through.
ANNA: Just my dress, I think - I shall change it. What about you?
TONY: Nothing to worry about.
ANNA: Your jacket is very damp. Take it off; I shall bring a towel.
CUT TO TONY'S SITTING ROOM, IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING
Tony enters, takes off his jacket and arranges it carefully on a chair, then changes his shoes for slippers. He stirs up the fire and settles in front of it on the hearth rug. Anna enters, in a rather revealing wrap, bringing two mugs of a hot drink on a tray, and a towel with which she dries Tony's head vigorously; she produces a comb and experiments with the parting. The conversation is taken very lightly.
TONY: Hey, easy does it! No need to scalp me.
ANNA: Sorry. I think your hair is better - be still a moment - like that.
TONY: Why change it?
ANNA: To cover the part that is becoming a little thin.
TONY: Is it? I never noticed.
ANNA: You cannot see it. But I do. Still, if you do not like it this way ...
TONY: Oh, I don't mind.
ANNA: Thank you. Tony, your trousers look to be wet.
TONY: They'll dry soon enough. But what a way to end the evening!
ANNA: There is no real harm done. And it was a very pleasant evening.
TONY: You liked Harry and Gina?
ANNA: They seemed very welcoming.
TONY: Is that all you can say?
ANNA: Does it seem - what do you say? - condemning with faint praise?.
TONY: Close. "Damning with faint praise" is the idiom.
ANNA: Thank you. You must always correct me when I get the words wrong.
TONY: Actually, you do very well. Remarkably