AN ABSENCE OF LIGHT
A Play
By William Andrews
***~~~***
An Absence of Light
By William Andrews
Copyright 2012 William Andrews
ISBN: 9781476101668
Also by William Andrews:
FRIEND REQUEST
100 MOVIES TO SEE BEFORE I KILL YOU (with Devlin Black)
https://www.darkcorners.com.au
CAST OF CHARACTERS
David Farnborough……….A university student
Emily Johnston……….David’s fiancée
Mrs. Wilson (Edith)……….David’s landlady
Jeremy Farnborough……….David’s brother
THE SETTINGS
Act One………………..A bed-sitting room, London, September 1938
Act Two………………..The same room, twelve months later.
ACT ONE
The Scene: We open on the interior of a small, darkened room. The curtains are drawn, with only a pale grey quantity of light penetrating through them – indicating that it is daytime. There is a single bed in the room, along with some empty bookshelves along the wall and a desk in the corner. We hear the sound of (unseen) people climbing up stairs toward the room, their footsteps and voices becoming louder and more distinct as they approach.
MRS. WILSON (off stage): It’s just this way, dear, up those stairs. Watch your step with those boxes – and mind you don’t mark my wallpaper. Stanley put that up, God rest his soul, and I don’t have much to remind myself of him these days.
DAVID (a younger voice, clearly better educated than MRS. WILSON’S) (Politely): I’ll take care, Mrs. Wilson, thank you.
EMILY (a more distant voice, trailing behind the other two): Was that your late husband’s uniform in the front room, Mrs. Wilson? He was very well decorated, wasn’t he?
MRS. WILSON (flattered, proud): Yes, dear, that belonged to Stanley. I keep it in the front room next to the picture of him in his uniform. I must never forget that he sacrificed his life in defence of this country in the Great War – not ever. If I don’t remind myself of that, the strain of missing him is just too much to bear. He was gassed twice for those medals, you know. The second time was just too much for his poor lungs.
EMILY (consoling): The loss must be terrible for you, Mrs. Wilson.
MRS. WILSON: It is, dear. No better even after twenty years. (Suddenly brighter) And please, dear, call me Edith.
EMILY (hesitantly): Thank you… Edith.
[The doorknob turns as these last words are being said. DAVID enters first, struggling with a heavy box as he opens the door. He puts the box on the floor in the corner, next to the desk. MRS. WILSON enters next, flinging open the curtains and windows, followed timorously by EMILY.]
MRS. WILSON: Let me get some light and fresh air in here. I’m afraid this room has been vacant since the middle of last term. The last chap was a bit of a drinker, so I had to ask him to leave. (Reproachfully) You aren’t a drinker are you, Mr. Farnborough? Only I don’t approve of over-indulgence in my tenants. That’s why I like to take in students from the university. I assume they’re above such things.
DAVID: I assure you that I rarely ever imbibe, Edith… Mrs. Wilson.
MRS. WILSON (cautiously, staring at EMILY): Good. I dislike debauchery of any kind. Stanley would never allow it and neither will I. You’re only here because he’s gone, God rest him, and I need the rent money to get by. That doesn’t mean that you can take liberties though, young man.
DAVID: Of course not, Mrs. Wilson, you have my word.
MRS. WILSON (with finality): That’s settled then. I’ll leave you two alone up here to unpack and I’ll make some tea. Now, I’m trusting you because you’re both well mannered and engaged to be married and all – but I’ll be listening from downstairs. I know what to keep an ear out for.
[She leaves without another word. DAVID and EMILY are silent and ill at ease until she departs. Emily sits primly on the edge of the bed while DAVID props himself up on the edge of the desk, facing her.]
DAVID: She’s not such a bad old stick, is she? I didn’t expect you to be allowed up here at all. I might not be leading such a monastic lifestyle after all.
EMILY (laughs): Just make sure you keep that door ajar. We don’t want to get on the wrong side of her.
DAVID: I don’t, you mean. You can always go home. I’m stuck here. If Mrs. Wilson chucked me out with a bad reference, no one else would take me in for miles around. Then where would I be?
EMILY: Miles away from me probably, and I’m not having that.
DAVID: Neither am I. We’d have to get married just to see each other – and we both agreed to get our studies out of the way first. (Uncertain) Didn’t we?
EMILY (emphatically): Absolutely! Otherwise I’d end up with little feet pattering around and you’d have to get a job – which would probably mean that neither of us would graduate.
DAVID: Would that be such a bad thing? I could still take classes part-time. It would just take longer, that’s all.
EMILY (indignant): And what about MY career?
DAVID (half-joking): You’d be a mother.
EMILY: Chauvinist!
[The pair breaks into short-lived laughter, then lapse into silence. They are self-conscious of their unfamiliar and uncomfortable surroundings – as well as both unsure as to the meaning behind the brief conversation that has just taken place. MRS. WILSON arrives unannounced, stealthily, bearing a tea tray. She has clearly heard the laughter and used the tea as an excuse to investigate. She brightens upon entering the room, evidently pleased to see the couple sitting so stiffly, primly and so far apart.]
MRS. WILSON (lightly): I just thought you might like some tea. I don’t usually provide room service for my tenants and their guests, you understand. But as you’ve only just arrived, Mr. Farnborough, I’ll make an exception to show my hospitality. Just don’t expect such treatment every day.
DAVID: I wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Wilson.
MRS. WILSON (either taken by DAVID’S politeness or playing a role in front of EMILY): Of course, if ever you’re taken very ill, just let me know and I’ll bring you up your meals and telephone the doctor if need be.
DAVID: That’s very kind of you.
[MRS. WILSON smiles at each of them in turn and moves to place the tea tray on the desk, upon which DAVID has been leaning. He rises, takes the tray of cups from her and places it gently on the desk behind him. He gestures a subservient thank you and she retreats to the door.]
EMILY: Thank you very much for your kindness, Mrs. Wilson.
MRS. WILSON: You’re quite welcome, dear. And please, call me Edith. (Still looking directly at EMILY): Just get Mr. Farnborough to bring the tray back down when you’re finished.
[There is silence again for a few moments after MRS. WILSON departs, while the pair left in the room listens for her footsteps descending the stairs.]
DAVID (humorously): She obviously takes laughter as a sign of being up to no good. Poor old Stanley! He probably got himself gassed twice deliberately.
EMILY (chiding): Ssh! She might hear you. She was probably waiting on the stairs with the tray, poised to pounce like a lion at the slightest sound. (Changing mood) Anyway, it’s not right to make fun of soldiers who died in the war. I had an uncle who was in France and he came back a different person. He never ever talked about it. Never talked very much about anything after he returned, but Daddy said that at the Somme men were cut down like stalks of wheat threshed in a field. It’s little wonder the survivors returned as damaged as they did.
DAVID: You??
?ve never mentioned your uncle before.
EMILY: He… went away, a few years after the war, to a… convalescent home down in Kent. Daddy visits him sometimes. I don’t remember him very much, really, but Daddy says before the war he was as happy and jolly a person as you’d ever wish to meet.
DAVID (contemplative): It’s coming again, you know. A war, I mean.
EMILY (dismissive, not wanting to hear of it): Not according to Mr. Chamberlain. You know what he said when he came from seeing Hitler in Munich. “Peace in our time”. The Germans agreed to it on paper.
DAVID: Hitler would sign anything. It doesn’t mean the Nazis will abide by it. You only have to look at him to know that Hitler’s a raving lunatic. He won’t be satisfied until everyone in Europe is either dead or speaking German.
EMILY: I won’t hear of such talk. Anyway, you already speak German and so do I. Benefits of an upper-middle class education.
DAVID: Don’t make fun. You know very well what I mean.
EMILY: Then we can emigrate. Go to Canada. Or Australia. Anywhere. I don’t care if the whole country goes up in flames, just as long as you’re not involved.
DAVID: We’d all be involved. Even in Australia. With modern aircraft as advanced as they are, no one is safe any more. Anyway, we can’t turn a blind eye and pretend nothing is happening.
EMILY: Why not? Anyway, nothing is happening. Hitler has as much as he wants. He’s only taken back territory that belonged to Germany before the war. And the Austrians wanted to join with them. He is Austrian, after all.
DAVID: He won’t stop there, Munich Agreement or not. Anyone who believes Chamberlain or his appeasement policy is a fool.
EMILY: Then why did you vote for him?
DAVID: Germany voted Hitler into power. Then he burned down the Reichstag.
EMILY: That was the Communists, so they say. Or it was an accident. And besides, Stalin is worse than Hitler.
DAVID: You can believe that if you like – but what about the treatment of the Jews? Or the internment labour camps for political prisoners?