ANNA: What is known as a bachelor’s life – Tom’s own nice inimitable version of it. He sat in his nice little flat, and round about ten at night, if he felt woman-crazy enough, he rang up one of three girls, all of whom were in love with him.

HARRY: Christ knows why.

ANNA: Imagine it, the telephone call at bedtime – are you free tonight, Elspeth, Penelope, Jessica? One of them came over, a drink or a cup of coffee, a couple of hours of bed, and then a radio-taxi home.

HARRY: Anna!

ANNA: Oh from time to time he explained to them that they mustn’t think his kind attentions to them meant anything.

HARRY: Anna, you’re a bore when you get like this.

TOM: Yes, you are.

ANNA: Then don’t call Mary names.

[MARY comes in.]

MARY [suspicious]: You were talking about me?

ANNA: No, about me.

MARY: Oh I thought it was about me. [to ANNA] There’s a girl wants to see you. She says it’s important. She wouldn’t give her name.

ANNA [she is thinking]: I see.

MARY: But she’s an American girl. It’s the wrong time of the year – summer’s for Americans.

ANNA: An American girl.

MARY: One of those nice bright neat clean American girls, how they do it, I don’t know, all I know is that you can tell from a hundred yards off they’d rather be seen dead than with their legs or their armpits unshaved, ever so antiseptic, she looked rather sweet really.

HARRY: Tell her to go away and we’ll all wait for you. Come on, Tom.

TOM: I’m staying.

HARRY: Come on, Mary, give me a nice cup of coffee.

MARY: It’s a long time since you and I had a good gossip.

[HARRY and MARY go out, arm in arm.]

TOM: Well, who is she?

ANNA: I don’t know.

TOM: I don’t believe you.

ANNA: You never do.

[MARY’S voice, and the voice of an American girl, outside on the stairs.]

[JANET STEVENS comes in. She is a neat attractive girl of about 22. She is desperately anxious and trying to hide it.]

JANET: Are you Anna Freeman?

ANNA: Yes. And this is Tom Lattimer.

JANET: I am Janet Stevens. [she has expected ANNA to know the name] Janet Stevens.

ANNA: How do you do?

JANET: Janet Stevens from Philadelphia. [as ANNA still does not react] I hope you will excuse me for calling on you like this.

ANNA: Not at all.

[JANET looks at TOM. ANNA looks at TOM. TOM goes to the window, turns his back.]

JANET [still disbelieving ANNA]: I thought you would know my name.

ANNA: No.

TOM: But she has been expecting you all afternoon.

JANET [at sea]: All afternoon?

ANNA [angry]: No, it’s not true.

JANET: I don’t understand, you were expecting me this afternoon?

ANNA: No. But may I ask, how you know me?

JANET: Well, we have a friend in common. Dave Miller.

TOM [turning, furious]: You could have said so, couldn’t you, Anna?

ANNA: But I didn’t know.

TOM: You didn’t know. Well I’m going. You’ve behaved disgracefully.

ANNA: Very likely. However just regard me as an unfortunate lapse from the straight and narrow on your journey to respectability.

[TOM goes out, slamming the door.]

ANNA [politely]: That was my – fiancé.

JANET: Oh, Dave didn’t say you were engaged.

ANNA: He didn’t know. And besides, I’m not ‘engaged’ any longer.

[A silence. ANNA looks with enquiry at JANET, who tries to speak and fails.]

ANNA: Please sit down, Miss Stevens.

[JANET looks around for somewhere to sit, sits on a chair, smiles socially. Being a well brought up young lady, and in a situation she does not understand, she is using her good manners as a last-ditch defence against breaking down.]

[ANNA looks at her, waiting.]

JANET: It’s this way, you see Dave and I … [At ANNA’S ironical look she stops.] … What a pretty room, I do so love these old English houses, they have such …

[ANNA looks at her: do get a move on.]

JANET: My father gave me a vacation in Europe for passing my college examinations. Yes, even when I was a little girl he used to promise me – if you do well at college I’ll give you a vacation in Europe. Well, I’ve seen France and Italy now, but I really feel most at home in England than anywhere. I do love England. Of course our family was English, way back of course, and I feel that roots are important, don’t you?

ANNA: Miss Stevens, what did you come to see me for?

JANET: Dave always says he thinks women should have careers. I suppose that’s why he admires you so much. Though of course, you do wear well. But I say to him, Dave, if you work at marriage then it is a career … sometimes he makes fun because I took domestic science and home care and child care as my subjects in college, but I say to him, Dave marriage is important, Dave, I believe that marriage and the family are the most rewarding career a woman can have, that’s why I took home care as my first subject because I believe a healthy and well-adjusted marriage is the basis for a healthy nation.

ANNA: You’re making me feel deficient in patriotism.

JANET: Oh, Dave said that too … [she almost breaks down, pulls herself together: fiercely] You’re patronizing me. I don’t think you should patronize me.

ANNA: Miss Stevens, do let’s stop this. Listen to me. I haven’t seen Dave for weeks. Is that what you came here to find out?

JANET: I know that you are such old friends. He talks about you a great deal.

ANNA: I’ve no doubt he does. [She waits for JANET to go on, then goes on herself.] There’s a hoary psychological joke – if I can use the word joke for a situation like this – about the way the betrayed women of the heartless libertine get together to lick their wounds – have you come here to make common cause with me over Dave? Because forgive me for saying so, but I don’t think you and I have anything in common but the fact we’ve both slept with Dave. And that is not enough for the basis of a beautiful friendship.

JANET: No! It wasn’t that at all, I came because … [she stops]

ANNA: I see. Then you’ve come because you’re pregnant. Well, how far have you got?

JANET: Five months.

ANNA: I see. And you haven’t told him.

ANNA: I knew if I told him he’d give me money and … well I love him. It would be good for him to have some responsibility wouldn’t it?

ANNA: I see.

JANET: Yes, I know how it looks, trapping a man. But when I was pregnant I was so happy, and only afterwards I thought – yes, I know how it looks, trapping a man, but he said he loved me, he said he loved me.

ANNA: But why come and tell me? [as JANET doesn’t answer] He’s ditched you, is that it?

JANET: No! Of course he hasn’t. [cracking] I haven’t seen him in days. I haven’t seen him. Where is he, you’ve got to tell me where he is. I’ve got to tell him about the baby.

ANNA: But I don’t know where he is.

JANET: You have to tell me. When he knows about the baby he’ll … [as ANNA shrugs] Ah come on now, who do you think you’re kidding? Well I’ve got his baby, you haven’t. You can’t do anything about that, can you. I’ve got his baby, I’ve got him.

ANNA: Very likely.

JANET: But what can I do? I want to be married. I’m just an ordinary girl and I want to be married, what’s wrong with that?

ANNA: There’s nothing wrong with that. But I haven’t seen Dave, and I don’t know where he is, and so there’s nothing I can do. [finally] And you shouldn’t have come to me.

[JANET goes out.]

ANNA [almost in tears]: Oh Christ. [stopping the tears, angrily] Damn. Damn.

[She goes to window. At once MARY comes in.]

MARY: Well who was she? [ANNA turns her back to hide her face from MARY.] Was she one of Dave’s girls? [ANNA nods. MARY moves so that she can see ANNA’S face.] Well, you knew there was one, didn’t you? [ANNA nods.] Well, then? [ANNA nods.]

ANNA: All right, Mary.

[MARY is in a jubilant mood. She has been flirting with HARRY. Now, seeing ANNA is apparently all right, she says what she came in to say.]

MARY: Harry and I are going out. There’s a place he knows we can get drinks. I told him you wouldn’t be interested. [The telephone starts ringing.] Aren’t you going to answer it? [as ANNA shakes her head] Odd, we’ve known each other all these years. He’s really sweet, Harry. You can say what you like, but it’s nice to have a man to talk to for a change – after all, how many men are there you can really talk to? [The telephone stops.] Anna, what are you in this state for?

ANNA: What I can’t stand is, the way he makes use of me. Do you know Mary, all this time he’s been letting her know I’m in the background?

MARY: Well you are, aren’t you?

ANNA: ‘But Janet, you must understand this doesn’t mean anything, because the woman I really love is Anna.’ He’s not even married to me, but he uses me as Harry uses Helen.

MARY: [not wanting to hear anything against HARRY at this moment] Oh I don’t know. After all, perhaps Helen doesn’t mind. They’ve been married so long.

ANNA: It really is remarkable how all Dave’s young ladies turn up here sooner or later. He talks about me – oh, quite casually, of course, until they go round the bend with frustration and curiosity, and they just have to come up to see what the enemy looks like. Well I can’t be such a bitch as all that, because I didn’t say, ‘My dear Miss Stevens, you’re the fifth to pay me a social call in three years.’

MARY: But you have been engaged to Tom.

ANNA: Yes. All right.

MARY: It’s funny, me and Harry knowing each other for so long and then suddenly …

ANNA: Mary! The mood Harry’s in somebody’s going to get hurt.

MARY: It’s better to get hurt than to live shut up.

ANNA: After losing that little poppet of his to matrimony he’ll be looking for solace.

MARY [offended]: Why don’t you concern yourself with Tom? Or with Dave? Harry’s not your affair. I’m just going out with him. [as she goes out] Nice to have a night out for a change, say what you like.

[The telephone rings. ANNA snatches off the receiver, wraps it in a blanket, throws it on the bed.

ANNA: I’m not talking to you, Dave Miller, you can rot first.

[She goes to the record player, puts on Mahalia Jackson’s ‘I’m on My Way’, goes to the mirror, looks into it. This is a long antagonistic look.]

ANNA [to her reflection]: All right then, I do wear well.

[She goes deliberately to a drawer, takes out a large piece of black cloth, unfolds it, drapes it over the mirror.]

ANNA [to the black cloth]: And a fat lot of good that does me.

[She now switches out the light. The room is tall, shadowy, with two patterns of light from the paraffin heaters reflected on the ceiling. She goes to the window, flings it up.]

ANNA [to the man on the pavement]: You poor fool, why don’t you go upstairs, the worst that can happen is that the door will be shut in your face.

[A knock on the door – a confident knock.]

ANNA: If you come in here, Dave Miller …

[DAVE comes in. He is crew cut, wears a sloppy sweater and jeans. Carries a small duffle bag. ANNA turns her back and looks out of the window. DAVE stops the record player. He puts the telephone receiver back on the rest. Turns on the light.]

DAVE: Why didn’t you answer the telephone?

ANNA: Because I have nothing to say.

DAVE [in a parody of an English upper-middle-class voice]: I see no point at all in discussing it.

ANNA [in the same voice]: I see no point at all in discussing it.

[DAVE stands beside ANNA at the window.]

DAVE [in the easy voice of their intimacy]: I’ve been in the telephone box around the corner ringing you.

ANNA: Did you see my visitor?

DAVE: No.

ANNA: What a pity.

DAVE: I’ve been standing in the telephone box ringing you and watching that poor bastard on the pavement.

ANNA: He’s there every night. He comes on his great black dangerous motor bike. He wears a black leather jacket and big black boots. He looks like an outrider for death in a Cocteau film – and he has the face of a frightened little boy.

DAVE: It’s lurve, it’s lurve, it’s lurve.

ANNA: It’s love.

[Now they stare at each other, antagonists, and neither gives way. DAVE suddenly grins and does a mocking little dance step. He stands grinning at her. ANNA hits him as hard as she can. He staggers. He goes to the other side of the carpet, where he sits cross-legged, his face in his hands.]

DAVE: Jesus, Anna.

ANNA [mocking]: Oh, quite so.

DAVE: You still love me, that’s something.

ANNA: It’s lurve, it’s lurve, it’s lurve.

DAVE: Yes. I had a friend once. He cheated on his wife, he came in and she laid his cheek open with the flat-iron.

ANNA [quoting him]: ‘That I can understand’ – a great country, America.

DAVE [in appeal]: Anna.

ANNA: No.

DAVE: I’ve been so lonely for you.

ANNA: Where have you been the last week?

DAVE [suspicious]: Why the last week?

ANNA: I’m interested.

DAVE: Why the last week? [a pause] Ringing you and getting no reply.

ANNA: Why ringing me?

DAVE: Who else? Anna, I will not be treated like this.

ANNA: Then, go away.

DAVE: We’ve been through this before. Can’t we get it over quickly?

ANNA: No.

DAVE: Come and sit down. And turn out the lights.

ANNA: No.

DAVE: I didn’t know it was as bad as that this time.

ANNA: How long did you think you could go on – you think you can make havoc as you like, and nothing to pay for it, ever?

DAVE: Pay? What for? You’ve got it all wrong, as usual.

ANNA: I’m not discussing it then.

DAVE: ‘I’m not discussing it.’ Well, I’m saying nothing to you while you’ve got your bloody middle-class English act on, it drives me mad.

ANNA: Middle-class English. I’m Australian.

DAVE: You’ve assimilated so well.

ANNA [in an Australian accent]: I’ll say it like this then – I’ll say it any way you like – I’m not discussing it. I’m discussing nothing with you when you’re in your role of tuppence a dozen street corner Romeo. [in English] It’s the same in any accent.

DAVE [getting up and doing his blithe dance step]: It’s the same in any accent. [sitting down again] Baby, you’ve got it wrong. [ANNA laughs.] I tell you, you’ve got it wrong, baby. ANNA [in American]: But baby, it doesn’t mean anything, let’s have a little fun together, baby, just you and me – just a little fun, baby … [in Australian] Ah, damn your guts, you stupid, irresponsible little … [in English] Baby, baby, baby – the anonymous baby. Every woman is baby, for fear you’d whisper the wrong name into the wrong ear in the dark.

DAVE: In the dark with you I use your name, Anna.

ANNA: You used my name.

DAVE: Ah, hell, man, well. Anna beat me up and be done with it and get it over. [a pause] OK, I know it. I don’t know what gets into me; OK I’m still a twelve-year-old slum kid standing on a street corner in Chicago, watching the expensive broads go by and wishing I had the dough to buy them all. OK, I know it. You know it. [a pause] OK and I’m an American God help me, and it’s no secret to the world that there’s bad man-woman trouble in America. [a pause] And everywhere else, if it comes to that. OK, I do my best. But how any man can be faithful to one woman beats me. OK, so one day I’ll grow up. Maybe.

ANNA: Maybe.

DAVE [switching to black aggression]: God, how I hate your smug female guts. All of you – there’s never anything free – everything to be paid for. Every time, an account rendered. Every time, when you’re swinging free there’s a moment when the check lies on the table – pay up, pay up, baby.

ANNA: Have you come here to get on to one of your anti-woman kicks?

DAVE: Well I’m not being any woman’s pet, and that’s what you all want. [leaping up and doing his mocking dance step] I’ve kept out of all the traps so far, and I’m going to keep out.

ANNA: So you’ve kept out of all the traps.

DAVE: That’s right. And I’m not going to stand for you either – mother of the world, the great womb, the eternal conscience. I like women, but I’m going to like them my way and not according to the rules laid down by the incorporated mothers of the universe.

ANNA: Stop it, stop it, stop boasting.

DAVE: But Anna, you’re as bad. There’s always a moment when you become a sort of flaming sword of retribution.

ANNA: At which moment – have you asked yourself? You and I are so close we know everything about each other – and then suddenly, out of the clear blue sky, you start telling me lies like – lies out of a corner-boy’s jest book. I can’t stand it.

DAVE [shouting at her]: Lies – I never tell you lies.

ANNA: Oh hell, Dave.

DAVE: Well you’re not going to be my conscience. I will not let you be my conscience.

ANNA: Amen and hear hear. But why do you make me your conscience?

DAVE [deflating]: I don’t know. [with grim humour] I’m an American. I’m in thrall to the great mother.

ANNA: Well I’m not an American.

DAVE [shouting]: No, but you’re a woman, and at bottom you’re the same as the whole lousy lot of…

ANNA: Get out of here then. Get out.

DAVE [he sits cross-legged, on the edge of the carpet, his head in his hands]: Jesus.

ANNA: You’re feeling guilty so you beat me up. I won’t let you.

DAVE: Come here.

[ANNA goes to him, kneels opposite him, lays her two hands on his diaphragm.]

Yes, like that. [he suddenly relaxes, head back, eyes closed] Anna, when I’m away from you I’m cut off from something – I don’t know what it is. When you put your hands on me, I begin to breathe.

ANNA: Oh. [She lets her hands drop and stands up.]

DAVE: Where are you going?

[ANNA goes back to the window. A silence. A wolf-whistle from the street. Another.]

ANNA: He’s broken his silence. He’s calling her. Deep calls to deep.

[Another whistle. ANNA winces.]

DAVE: You’ve missed me?

ANNA: All the time.

DAVE: What have you been doing?

ANNA: Working a little.

DAVE: What else?

ANNA: I said I’d marry Tom, then I said I wouldn’t.

DAVE [dismissing it]: I should think not.

ANNA [furious]: O-h-h-h.

DAVE: Seriously, what?

ANNA: I’ve been coping with Mary – her son’s marrying.

DAVE [heartily]: Good for him. Well, it’s about time.

ANNA: Oh quite so.

DAVE [mimicking her]: Oh quite so.

ANNA [dead angry]: I’ve also spent hours of every day with Helen, Harry’s ever-loving wife.

DAVE: Harry’s my favourite person in London.

ANNA: And you are his. Strange, isn’t it?

DAVE: We understand each other.

ANNA: And Helen and I understand each other.

DAVE [hastily]: Now, Anna.

ANNA: Helen’s cracking up. Do you know what Harry did? He came to her, because he knew this girl of his was thinking of getting married, and he said: Helen, you know I love you, but I can’t live without her. He suggested they should all live together in the same house – he, Helen and his girl. Regularizing things, he called it.

DAVE [deliberately provocative]: Yeah? Sounds very attractive to me.

ANNA: Yes, I thought it might. Helen said to him – who’s going to share your bed? Harry said, well, obviously they couldn’t all sleep in the same bed, but…

DAVE: Anna, stop it.

ANNA: Helen said it was just possible that the children might be upset by the arrangement.

DAVE: I was waiting for that – the trump card – you can’t do that, it might upset the kiddies. Well not for me, I’m out.

ANNA [laughing]: Oh are you?

DAVE: Yes. [ANNA laughs.] Have you finished?

ANNA: No. Harry and Helen. Helen said she was going to leave him. Harry said: ‘But darling, you’re too old to get another man now and …’

DAVE [mocking]: Women always have to pay – and may it long remain that way.

ANNA: Admittedly there’s one advantage to men like you and Harry. You are honest.

DAVE: Anna, listen, whenever I cheat on you it takes you about two weeks to settle into a good temper again. Couldn’t we just speed it up and get it over with?

ANNA: Get it over with. [she laughs]

DAVE: The laugh is new. What’s so funny?

[A wolf-whistle from the street. Then a sound like a wolf howling. ANNA slams the window up.]

DAVE: Open that window.

ANNA: No, I can’t stand it.

DAVE: Anna, I will not have you shutting yourself up. I won’t have you spitting out venom and getting all bitter and vengeful. Open that window.

[ANNA opens it. Stands by it, passive.]

Come and sit down. And turn the lights out.

[As she does not move, he turns out the light. The room as before: two patterned circles of light on the ceiling from the paraffin lamps.]

ANNA: Dave, it’s no point starting all over again.

DAVE: But baby, you and I will always be together, one way or another.

ANNA: You’re crazy.

DAVE: In a good cause. [he sits cross-legged on the edge of the carpet and waits] Come and sit. [ANNA slowly sits, opposite him. He smiles at her. She slowly smiles back. As she smiles, the walls fade out. They are two small people in the city, the big, ugly, baleful city all around them, over-shadowing them.]

DAVE: There baby, that’s better.

ANNA: OK.

DAVE: I don’t care what you do – you can crack up if you like, or you can turn Lesbian. You can take to drink. You can even get married. But I won’t have you shutting yourself up.

[A lorry roars. A long wolf-whistle. Shrill female voices from the street.]

ANNA: Those girls opposite quarrel. I hate it. Last night they were rolling in the street and pulling each other’s hair and screaming.

DAVE: OK. But you’re not to shut it out. You’re not to shut anything out.

ANNA: I’ll try.

[She very slowly gets to her feet, stands concentrating.]

DAVE: That’s right. Now, who are you?

END OF ACT ONE

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