The Mousetrap and Other Plays

  The DOCTOR enters down R and crosses to R of ANYA. KARL follows him on and stands below the sofa. HELEN turns.

  DOCTOR. Well, Anya, Karl tells me you’re going into the clinic in about two weeks’ time.

  ANYA. It won’t do any good. I’m sure of it.

  DOCTOR. Come, come, you mustn’t say that. I was reading a most interesting article in The Lancet the other day, which dealt with the matter. Only an outline, but it was interesting. Of course we’re very cautious in this country about the prospect of this new treatment. Afraid to commit ourselves. Our American cousins rush ahead, but there certainly seems to be a good chance of success with it.

  ANYA. I don’t really believe in it, it won’t do any good.

  DOCTOR. Now, Anya, don’t be a little misery. (He pushes the wheelchair towards the door down R)

  KARL moves to the door down R and holds it open.

  We’ll have your weekly overhaul now and I’ll see whether you’re doing me credit as a patient or not.

  ANYA. I can’t knit any more, my hands shake so, I drop the stitches.

  KARL takes the chair from the DOCTOR and pushes ANYA off down R.

  KARL. There’s nothing in that, is there, Doctor?

  DOCTOR. No, no, nothing at all.

  KARL exits with ANYA down R. The DOCTOR follows them off. KARL re-enters and closes the door. He rather ignores HELEN who stubs out her cigarette in the ashtray on the desk and crosses to LC.

  KARL. (collecting his brief-case) I’m afraid I have to go out, I have a lecture at half past four.

  HELEN. Are you angry with me for coming?

  KARL. (formally) Of course not. It is very kind of you to return the books.

  HELEN. (moving to L of KARL) You are angry with me. You’ve been so brusque—so abrupt, lately. What have I done to make you angry? You were really cross yesterday.

  KARL. (crossing above HELEN to the desk) Of course I was cross. (He takes a book from the desk and crosses below HELEN to L of the sofa) You say that you want to learn, that you want to study and take your diploma, and then you do not work.

  HELEN. Well, I’ve been rather busy lately—there’s been a lot on . . .

  KARL. You’re not stupid, you’ve got plenty of intelligence and brains, but you don’t take any trouble. How are you getting on with your German lessons?

  HELEN. (very off-handedly) I haven’t arranged about them yet.

  KARL. But you must, you must. It’s essential that you should be able to read German. (He crosses above the table RC to the bookcase R and takes a book) The books I give you to read, you do not read properly. I ask you questions and your answers are superficial. (He puts the books in his brief-case)

  HELEN moves below the sofa.

  HELEN. (kneeling on the sofa in rather a languid pose) It’s such a bore, working.

  KARL. But you were eager to study, to take your diploma.

  HELEN. The diploma can go to hell for all I care.

  KARL. (dumping his brief-case on the left arm of the sofa in amazement) Then I don’t understand. You force me to teach you, you made your father come to me.

  HELEN. I wanted to see you, to be near you. Are you quite blind, Karl? I’m in love with you.

  KARL. (turning and taking a pace to C; amazed) What? But, my dear child . . .

  HELEN. Don’t you like me even a little bit?

  KARL. (crossing and standing down R) You’re a very desirable young woman but you must forget this nonsense.

  HELEN. (rising and standing behind KARL) It’s not nonsense, I tell you I love you. Why can’t we be simple and natural about it all? I want you and you want me. You know you do—you’re the kind of man I want to marry. Well, why not? Your wife’s no good to you.

  KARL. How little you understand. You talk like a child. I love my wife. (He crosses to C)

  HELEN. (sitting on the sofa) Oh, I know. You’re a terribly kind person. You look after her and bring her cups of Bengers and all that, no doubt. But that isn’t love.

  KARL. (crossing below the sofa to R; rather at a loss what to say) Isn’t it? I think it is. (He sits on the right arm of the sofa)

  HELEN. Of course you must see that she’s properly looked after, but it needn’t interfere with your life as a man. If we have an affair together your wife needn’t know about it.

  KARL. (firmly) My dear child, we’re not going to have an affair.

  HELEN. I had no idea you were so straight-laced. (She is struck by an idea) I’m not a virgin, you know, if that’s what’s worrying you. I’ve had lots of experience.

  KARL. Helen, don’t delude yourself. I am not in love with you.

  HELEN. You may go on saying that till you’re blue in the face, but I don’t believe you.

  KARL. Because you don’t want to believe me. But it is true. (He rises and moves down R) I love my wife. She is dearer to me than anyone in the world.

  HELEN. (like a bewildered child) Why? Why? I mean, what can she possibly give you? I could give you everything. Money for research or for whatever you wanted.

  KARL. But you would still not be Anya. (He sits on the right arm of the sofa) Listen . . .

  HELEN. I dare say she was pretty and attractive once, but she’s not like that now.

  KARL. She is. We don’t change. There is the same Anya there still. Life does things to us. Ill health, disappointment, exile, all these things from a crust covering over the real self. But the real self is still there.

  HELEN. (rising, impatiently, moving down LC and turning to face KARL) I think you’re talking nonsense. If it were a real marriage—but it isn’t. It can’t be, in the circumstances.

  KARL. It is a real marriage.

  HELEN. Oh, you’re impossible! (She moves down L)

  KARL. (rising) You see, you are only a child, you don’t understand.

  HELEN crosses above the armchair to L of KARL. She is losing her temper.

  HELEN. You are the child, wrapped up in a cloud of sentimentality, and pretence. You even humbug yourself. If you had courage—now, I’ve got courage and I’m a realist. I’m not afraid to look at things and see them as they are.

  KARL. You are a child that hasn’t grown up.

  HELEN. (exasperated) Oh! (She crosses above the armchair to the desk and stares rather furiously out of the window)

  The DOCTOR pushes ANYA in down R.

  DOCTOR. (as they enter; cheerfully) All very satisfactory.

  KARL takes over from the DOCTOR and pushes ANYA to her usual place C. The DOCTOR goes up C.

  ANYA. (as she is going across) That’s what he says. All doctors are liars.

  KARL collects his brief-case.

  DOCTOR. Well, I must be off. I have a consultation at half-past four. Good-bye, Anya. Good afternoon, Miss Rollander. I’m going up Gower Street, Karl, I can give you a lift if you like.

  KARL. Thank you, Doctor.

  DOCTOR. I’ll wait downstairs in the car.

  The DOCTOR exits up C, closing the door behind him. KARL closes his brief-case and moves to R of ANYA

  ANYA. Karl, forgive me, Karl.

  KARL. Forgive you, sweetheart? What is there to forgive?

  ANYA. Everything. My moods, my bad temper. But it isn’t really me, Karl. It’s just the illness. You do understand?

  KARL. (with his arm affectionately round her shoulders) I understand.

  HELEN half turns her head to look at them, frowns, and turns back to the window.

  Nothing you say will ever hurt me because I know your heart.

  KARL claps ANYA’s hand, they look at each other, and then she kisses his hand.

  ANYA. Karl, you will be late for your lecture. You must go.

  KARL. I wish I didn’t have to leave you.

  ANYA. Mrs. Roper will be back any minute and she will stay with me till Lisa gets back.

  HELEN. I’m not going anywhere in particular, I can stay with Mrs. Hendryk till Miss Koletzky gets back.

  KARL. Would you, Helen?

  HELEN. Of course.

 
KARL. That’s very kind of you. (To ANYA) Good-bye, darling.

  ANYA. Good-bye.

  KARL. Thank you, Helen.

  KARL exits up C, closing the door behind him. The daylight starts to fade.

  HELEN. (crossing above the wheelchair to the sofa) Is Miss Koletzky a relation? (She sits on the sofa)

  ANYA. Yes, she’s my first cousin. She came to England with us and has stayed with us ever since. This afternoon she has gone to see some friends who are passing through London. They are at the Hotel Russell, not very far away. It is so seldom we see friends from our own country.

  HELEN. Would you like to go back?

  ANYA. We cannot go back. A friend of my husband’s, another professor, fell into disgrace because of his political view—he was arrested.

  HELEN. How did that affect Professor Hendryk?

  ANYA. His wife and children, you see, were left quite destitute. Professor Hendryk insisted that we should take them into our house. But when the authorities got to hear about it, they forced him to resign his position.

  HELEN. Really, it didn’t seem worth it, did it?

  ANYA. That’s what I felt, and I never liked Maria Schultz in the least. She was a most tiresome woman, always carping and criticizing and moaning about something or other. And the children were very badly behaved and very destructive. It seems too bad that because of them we had to leave our nice home and come over here practically as refugees. This will never be home.

  HELEN. It does seem rather rough luck on you.

  ANYA. Men don’t think of that. They only think of their ideas of what is right, or just, or one’s duty.

  HELEN. I know. Such an awful bore. But men aren’t realists like we are.

  There is a pause as HELEN lights a cigarette she has taken from a case in her handbag. A clock outside strikes four.

  ANYA. (looking at her watch) Lisa never gave me my medicine before she went out. She is very tiresome sometimes the way she forgets things.

  HELEN. (rising) Can I do anything?

  ANYA. (pointing to the shelves on the wall down R) It’s on the little shelf over there.

  HELEN moves to the shelves down R.

  The little brown bottle. Four drops in water.

  HELEN stubs out her cigarette in the ashtray on the cupboard R, and takes the bottle of medicine and a glass from the shelves.

  It’s for my heart, you know. There’s a glass over there and a dropper.

  HELEN moves to the bookshelves R.

  Be careful, it’s very strong. That’s why they keep it out of reach. Sometimes I feel so terribly depressed and I threaten to kill myself, and they think perhaps if I had it near me I’d yield to temptation and take an overdose.

  HELEN. (taking the dropper-stopper from the bottle) You often want to, I suppose?

  ANYA. (complacently) Oh, yes, one feels so often that one would be better dead.

  HELEN. Yes, I can understand that.

  ANYA. But, of course, one must be brave and go on.

  HELEN’s back is towards ANYA. She throws a quick glance over her shoulder. ANYA is not looking her way but is engrossed in her knitting. HELEN tilts the bottle and empties all the contents into the glass, adds some water then takes the glass to ANYA.

  HELEN. (R of ANYA) Here you are.

  ANYA. Thank you, my dear. (She take the glass in her left hand and sips)

  HELEN stands up R of ANYA.

  It tastes rather strong.

  HELEN. Four drops, you said?

  ANYA. Yes, that’s right. (She drinks it down quickly, then leans back and puts the glass on her work-table)

  HELEN, tensely strung up, stands watching ANYA.

  The Professor works much too hard, you know. He takes more pupils than he ought to do. I wish—I wish he could have an easier life.

  HELEN. Perhaps some day he will.

  ANYA. I doubt it. (With a little tender smile) He’s so good to everyone. So full of kindness. He is so good to me, so patient. (She catches her breath) Ah!

  HELEN. What is it?

  ANYA. Just—I don’t seem to be able to get my breath. You’re sure you didn’t give me too much?

  HELEN. I gave you the right dose.

  ANYA. I’m sure—I’m sure you did. I didn’t mean—I didn’t think . . . (Her words get slower as she settles back almost as if she is about to go to sleep. Her hand comes up very slowly toward her heart) How strange—how very—strange. (Her head droops sideways on the pillow)

  HELEN moves R of ANYA and watches her. She is now looking frightened. Her hand goes to her face and then down again.

  HELEN. (in a low voice) Mrs. Hendryk.

  There is silence.

  (A little louder) Mrs. Hendryk.

  HELEN moves to R of ANYA, takes her wrist and feels the pulse. When she finds that it has stopped she gasps and flings the hand down in horror, then backs slightly down R. She moves below the armchair, round it and stands above the work-table, without taking her eyes off ANYA. She stands staring for some moments at ANYA, then shakes herself back to reality, sees the glass on the work-table, picks it up and wipes it on her handkerchief, then leans over and puts it carefully into ANYA’s left hand. She then goes and leans exhausted over the left arm of the sofa. Again she pulls herself together, moves to the bookcase R and picks up the medicine bottle and dropper. She wipes her fingerprints off the bottle and crosses to R of ANYA. She gently presses ANYA’s right hand round the bottle, then moves above the work-table, puts the bottle down, takes the dropper out and leaves it beside the bottle. She moves slightly up C, looks around, then goes quickly to the sofa for her bag and gloves and moves quickly to the doors up C. She stops suddenly and dashes to the shelf for the water jug, wiping it with her handkerchief as she crosses to the work-table, where she puts down the jug. She again goes to the doors up C. The sound of a barrel organ is heard off. HELEN flings open the right door and exits in the hall to R. The front door is heard to slam. There is quite a pause, then the front door is heard opening and closing. MRS. ROPER pops her head in the doorway up C.

  MRS. ROPER. I got the tea.

  MRS. ROPER withdraws her head and disappears to L. She reappears in the doorway, taking off her hat and coat. These she hangs on a hook off R of the double doors.

  And I got the bacon and a dozen boxes of matches. Isn’t everything a price these days? I tried to get some kidneys for young Muriel’s supper, tenpence each they were, and they looked like little shrunken heads. (She crosses above the table RC towards the door down R) She’ll have to have what the others have and like it. I keep telling her money doesn’t grow on trees.

  MRS. ROPER exits down R. There is a considerable pause, then the front door opens and closes. LISA enters up C from R, putting her doorkey into her bag.

  LISA. (as she enters) Have I been long? (She crosses to the desk, glances at ANYA and thinking she is asleep, smiles, turns to the window and removes her hat. After putting her hat on the desk she turns towards ANYA and begins to realize that possibly ANYA is more than asleep) Anya? (She rushes to R of ANYA and lifts her head. She takes her hand away and ANYA’s head falls again. She sees the bottle on the work-table, moves above the wheelchair, picks up the glass and then the bottle)

  MRS. ROPER enters down R as LISA is holding the bottle.

  MRS. ROPER. (startled) Oh, I didn’t hear you come in, miss. (She moves up R)

  LISA. (putting the bottle down with a bang; startled by MRS. ROPER’s sudden appearance) I didn’t know you were here, Mrs. Roper.

  MRS. ROPER. Is anything wrong?

  LISA. Mrs. Hendryk—I think Mrs. Hendryk is dead. (She moves to the telephone, lifts the receiver and dials)

  MRS. ROPER moves slowly up L of ANYA, sees the bottle, then turns slowly round to stare at LISA, who is waiting impatiently for someone to answer her call. She has her back to MRS. ROPER and does not see the look. The lights BLACK-OUT as—

  the CURTAIN falls.

  ACT TWO

  Scene I

  SCENE: The same. Fo
ur days later. About midday.

  When the CURTAIN rises, the lights come up. The room is empty. It is much the same as before except that ANYA’S wheelchair has gone. The doors are all closed. After a moment, KARL enters up C, moves down C, pauses for a moment and looks where the wheelchair used to be, then sits in the armchair. LISA enters up C and goes to the desk. She wears outdoor clothes. The DOCTOR enters up C, looks at the others, then moves below the sofa. LESTER enters up C and stands rather awkwardly up C. They all enter very slowly and are very depressed.

  DOCTOR. (rather uncomfortably) Well, that’s over.

  LISA. (removing her gloves and hat) I have never been to an inquest in this country before. Are they always like that?

  DOCTOR. (still a little ill at ease) Well, they vary, you know, they vary. (He sits on the sofa at the right end)

  LISA. (after a pause) It seems so business-like, so unemotional.

  DOCTOR. Well, of course, we don’t go in for emotion much. It’s just a routine business enquiry, that’s all.

  LESTER. (moving up L of the sofa; to the DOCTOR) Wasn’t it rather an odd sort of verdict? They said she died from an overdose of stropanthin but they didn’t say how it was administered. I should have thought they’d have said suicide while the balance of the mind was disturbed and have done with it.

  LISA sits at the desk.

  KARL. (rousing himself) I cannot believe that Anya committed suicide.

  LISA. (thoughtfully) I should not have said so, either.

  LESTER. (moving LC) All the same, the evidence was pretty clear. Her fingerprints on the bottle and on the glass.

  KARL. It must have been some kind of accident. Her hand shook a great deal, you know. She must have poured in far more than she realized. The curious thing is that I can’t remember putting the bottle and glass beside her, yet I suppose I must have done.

  LISA rises and moves to L of KARL. LESTER sits on the left arm of the sofa.

  LISA. It was my fault. I should have given her the drops before I went out.

  DOCTOR. It was nobody’s fault. Nothing is more unprofitable than accusing oneself of having left undone something one should have done or the opposite. These things happen and they’re very sad. Let’s leave it at that—(Under his breath and not to the others) if we can.