AustLit

Golden Slumbers

by

Catherine Shepherd

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CHARACTERS

LARRY CROFT
CLARE DENSIL
PODDY JONES
MISS DENSIL
MRS. COLFIN
MRS. TATE
MOLLY FENNING
MISS WILLIAMS

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ANNCR:   The A.B.C. presents "Golden Slumbers", a play for radio by Catherine Shepherd, with ...................

........................................................................... (Name leads against characters) "Golden Slumbers."

Music

ANNCR:   We are in an artist's studio, which is the converted attic of an old Georgian-style, sandstone house, in the suburbs of an Australian city. It is a shabby  place, with walls stained damp, and very little furniture beyond an easel, a packing-case covered with brushes, bottles, rags and paints, a camp-bed by the window, a serviceable table, and one or two chairs. 

It is early morning of an autumn day. The artist, a young man named Larry Croft, is still in bed, drowsily watching the first shaft of sunlight coming through a skylight into the shadowy room. 

Quietly, the door to the landing above the attics stairs is pushed open, and Poddy Jones, a disreputable-looking old man comes in. He moves with the cautious precision of a rat on the prowl, and carries a folded newspaper and bottle of milk. 

LARRY:   (Loudly) Hey!

PODDY:   (A reproachful whine. His voice is not very uneducated) You shouldn't shout like that, Larry. It gave me a nasty shock. 

LARRY:   If you don't want shocks, don't come creeping in here at this hour of the morning. 

PODDY:   Look, Larry, this is the one spot in the whole flaming house where there's a spot of sun at this time of day. This place is like a morgue. 

LARRY:   I see you've pinched Mrs. Colfin's newspaper, and my bottle of milk. 

PODDY:   Just brought the milk up for you. Just brought it up. No harm done. How about a spot of porridge to put some warmth into us?

LARRY:   (Gloomily) Oh, go to blazes!

PODDY:   Don't be hard, Larry. You mustn't be hard. You've got your health and strength. You're young. You don't wake early and lie for hours aching with the cold. 

LARRY:   All right, sit in the damned sun, and stop yowling. Heaven help you when Mrs. Colfin finds you've pinched her paper, that's all. (More alive) You look an interesting old bag of bones, sitting there reading it. 

PODDY:   Paint anther picture of me, why don't you? The last one sold, didn't it?

LARRY:   (Moving away) Sure did. 

PODDY:   (Louder) You putting the porridge on, Larry?

LARRY:   (Distant) I'm going to have a shower. 

PODDY:   Oh, come off it! You'll get your death one of these cold mornings. 

Distant sound of shower. 

Turn it off, boy! Turn it off! The sound of it makes me shiver. 

Steps. 

MRS. COLFIN:   (Fading in) So this is where my newspaper's got to! I might have guessed it!

PODDY:   (Reproachfully) Now, Mrs. Colfin, there's no need to give me such a start!

MRS. COLFIN:   Let me tell you, I don't pay for my newspaper, Mr. Jones, so that you can make off with it. 

PODDY:   I knew you wouldn't mind if I borrowed it for a minute, as you weren't up. 

MRS. COLFIN:   As it happens, I am up, and I want it. And I don't wish to have to come up all these stairs to find it. And all mussed up. 

PODDY:   All right, all right! I'll fold it up so neat that you won't know the difference. 

MRS. COLFIN:   You're a real little cadger, Poddy Jones, - that's your trouble. 

PODDY:   Have a heart! I'm an old man, and down on me luck. 

MRS. COLFIN:   Don't you give me that! You've got as much as the rest of them. And don't go getting any more Tea of poor old Mrs. Tate. she and her husband don't have any to spare. 

PODDY:   Don't go on at me now. 

MRS. COLFIN:   What are you doing up in Mr. Croft's room at this time of the morning?

PODDY:   Just searching for a  bit of sunshine. The warm sun's the gift of God. You can get it free, if you can find it. (Shivering) If you can find it, in this perishing old tombstone of a house. 

MRS. COLFIN:   If you don't care for the house, you can find yourself a room somewhere else, and welcome. 

PODDY:   Don't be hard, Mrs. Colfin! Don't be hard!

MRS. COLFIN:   And don't go locking your door. I like to have a look to see the room's clean. 

PODDY:   I've got to be careful, with the people you let your rooms to. I saw a young girl round the place yesterday evening. 

MRS. COLFIN:   That was Miss Densil's niece — come to look after her, poor old soul. She's a smart young business lady. 

Clink of tray. 

LARRY:   (Fading in) So the avenging fury has caightup with you, Poddy! I told you... Good morning, Mrs. Colfin. 

MRS. COLFIN:   (More Agreeably) Good morning, Mr. Croft. You certainly get the early sun up here. I sometimes wish I'd kept this room for myself, instead of the first floor. But the stairs are terrible. 

PODDY:   Come on, Larry. Don't let the porridge get cold. 

LARRY:   All right, hoe in,. 

Clatter of plates. 

LARRY:   You wouldn't like it up here, Mrs. Corfin. The rain still drips through the roof. 

MRS. COLFIN:   Well, it's a decent big room, after we got the junk out, and knocked the partition down. 

LARRY:   And I put in the shower and the stove and the rest of it. 

MRS. COLFIN:   Yes. It's just right for you and your painting. Doesn't matter how much you make. 

LARRY:   Poddy's portrait's sold!

MRS. COLFIN:   Well, what do you know?It's surprising what people will buy. I thought that when I was round the shops yesterday and saw the stuff they were going for in the sales. 

LARRY:   (With pride) The Gallery has bought Poddy. 

MRS. COLFIN:   You don't say? Well, it wouldn't be like a private house, where you'd have to keep looking at him. 

PODDY:   He's making a name for himself, is Mr. Lawrence Croft. 

MRS. COLFIN:   Well, i'm glad if that's so, Mr. Croft. You work hard, I'll say that for you, and you don't give trouble. Now that poor Miss Densil — i thought I'd have to ask her to move. 

LARRY:   You can't do that! I'm in the middle of her portrait. 

MRS. COLFIN:   I dare say. But she's getting a terrible worry. Her memory's gone. She was off down the street just a couple of days ago, and the woman at the corner saw her nearly run over. Doesn't notice the traffic, you see, and thinks she's in the country. she was going to visit her brother, she said, but he's been dead a good twenty years. And another thing, she puts the kettle in the kitchen and goes off and forgets about it. I had the bottom burnt off mine that way. So I said to her niece — great niece, she is I suppose — I said I can't be responsible. The old lady rents a room here, but I can't look after her. Somebody's got to be with her. so the girl's moved in. She's got that little verandah room next to her auntie's. 

LARRY:   (Rather absently) That's all right, then. She'll be up here in a minute for a sitting. So you'd better get a move on, POddy. 

Movements. 

LARRY:   I've got the picture nearly finished. (Rather youthful in his wish for appreciation) Nice bit of colour, don't you think?

MRS. COLFIN:   That old dress of her's must have been good material. it's a wonder it doesn't fall to pieces, put away so long. Miss Densil was a beauty in her young days, I shouldn't wonder. You git her very tall and thin, sitting so stiff, and holding the parasol., 

PODDY:   (His mouth full) Look's more like a party at Government House than this dump!

MRS. COLFIN:   (Sarcastic) i'm sure you'd know all about that, Mr. Jones! I'll be on my way. (Distant) Sling that little devil out, why don't you, Mr. Croft?

PODDY:   Cheese-paring old cow! Now then, Larry, what about a cuppa?

LARRY:   Oh, go and get it for yourself, if you want it. I'm starting work. (Louder) You might take those things off the table and wash them up. 

PODDY:   All right. 

Clatter of plates. 

You need a cuppa on a cold morning. (More distant) Here comes her ladyship, parasol and all!

LARRY:   (Loudly) Shut up, and get on with it!

MISS DENSIL:   (Fading in after slight pause. her voice is frail, but aristocratic and agreeable) Good morning, Mr. Croft.

LARRY:   (With energy) Good morning, Miss Densil. Come on in. Here's your chair all ready for you. Chalk marks on the floor. I'd better put them in agains - Mrs. Tate was up here cleaning and she's nearly rubbed them out. 

MISS DENSIL:   I can see them quite well, thank you. 

LARRY:   That's right. Parasol a little further forward... Wait! I'll fix it... Let me look.. Yes..

MISS DENSIL:   Your studio seems so light and sunny. The stairs are still rather dark. It is a beautiful morning. (Breaks) You don't mind if I talk a little? You were good enough to say it did not interrupt your work?

LARRY:   (Rather absent and absorbed) Talk away... I'm working on the hands...

MISS DENSIL:   It is a beautiful morning. At first when I woke, I thought it was Sunday. That was because I had it in mind that I must put this dress on, and the brooch. I used to wear it for church, I remember. 

Pause. Dabbing of brush.

When I was a girl, we used to gather in the hall on Sunday morning — father and mother, my sister Emmeline, Fergus, and I. We had quite a long walk to church. But a good country road. No cars to make the dust in those days. Fergus and I walked with father, and Emmeline with mother. (Pause) They're dead now — all of them.  I'm afraid I live in the past too much. 

LARRY:   (Absently) Why shouldn't you? Plenty of people think of the future all the time. don't move the parasol. 

MISS DENSIL:   I'm sorry. (Pause) My sister Emmeline died young. She had an unfortunate love affair. (Lowered voice) He was a veterinary surgeon. A good looking man, with a dark moustache. Very attractive, we thought him. But he drank like a fish, father said, and he would not hear of anything between them. So Emmeline got into very low spirits, and caught scarlet fever. She died. 

LARRY:   (Absent) Bad luck.... 

MISS DENSIL:   (Absorbed in her thoughts) Yes, it was a sad story. (Pause) There was another gentleman, a farmer's son who asked if he might propose to me. Father sent him away, too. We wrote to each other secretly, and I think perhaps we should have done something rash, and not the war started. The Boer War. Mr. Darrington went away to Africa, and was killed. I sometimes feel that he is with me.. a pleasant companionship. You may not believe in such things, Mr. Croft?

LARRY:   (Evasively) Oh, I dunno.... (To change subject) Mrs. Colfin told me your niece had come to stay. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Vaguely) Clare? Clare is Fergus' granddaughter. She is a clever girl. Her father and mother were killed in a car accident when she was quite a child. She has a very good position in an office — something important I believe. Girls do such clever things now. They have a better head for business than they had in the old days.. or perhaps it was just that the gentlemen thought...

Quick firm steps. 

CLARE:   (Fade in. Tense and irritable) So you're here, Aunt Ellen!

MISS DENSIL:   (Gently) Yes, dear. Mr. Croft is painting my portrait. Let me introduce Mr. Lawrence Croft. My niece, Miss Clare Densil.

CLARE:   (Stiff and annoyed) How d'you do? Aunt Ellen, I took in your breakfast tray, and you were not in your room. 

MISS DENSIL:   I always get up early, dear. I get my own cup of tea. 

CLARE:   But Mrs. Colfin has asked you not to. You left the kettle on....

MISS DENSIL:   (With gentle dignity) She should not have troubled you about that, Clare. I have told her that I shall buy her another kettle. 

CLARE:   (With an effort to be patient) Will you come now and have your breakfast?

MISS DENSIL:   Well, dear, if Mr. Croft will excuse me. I know he wants to finish the portrait. 

CLARE:   Your breakfast is getting cold. I took it to your room, as we arranged, and found you weren't there. I was worried, because I thought you had gone out walking. Mrs. Colfin told me you might be here. 

MISS DENSIL:   I'm sorry dear. You don't mind if I go, Mr. Croft?

LARRY:   (With an edge to his voice) Do you think your niece will object to your giving me some time tomorrow?

MISS DENSIL:   (With dignity) I shall some at my usual time tomorrow, Mr. Croft. (Fade) As the tea is made this morning, I will not waste it. 

CLARE:   It's no good scowling at me, Mr. Croft. 

LARRY:   I'm sorry for your aunt, that's all. 

CLARE:   I have to look after her. (Giving way to repressed anger at the situation) You don't think I want to come here, do you? I have a good job, and a very nice flat with two other business women. I've had to give up all that. And now you say you're sorry for my aunt. 

LARRY:   (Mre gently) Can't be very pleasant to be bossed about, the way you do it. 

CLARE:   I was worried this morning. I thought she's gone of... out in the traffic. (Miserably) I hate this horrible place. 

LARRY:   What's wrong with it?

CLARE:   (Incredulously) What's wrong? This place is a slum. It isn't fit to live in.

LARRY:   The house is all right. They built well in the old days. 

CLARE:   The walls are filthy, the woodwork rotten, the gutters leak, the window cords are broken. 

LARRY:   Those things don't seem important to me. 

CLARE:   I dare say not. Anyway, you don't live in the worst part of it. You're independent up here. It's really a flat. The rest of the place is a rabbit warren, with people popping out of every corner. I shall have to fight over the use of the bathrooms and washhouse and clotheslines and kitchen. You hear radios and crying kids and feet tramping up and down those awful stairs, or Miss Williams' cat mewing, or her mewing over the cat, which is worse!

LARRY:   You certainly don't seem to care for the place.

CLARE:   I used to think it was a nightmare, whenever I came to visit Aunt Ellen. Now — I'm part of it.

LARRY:   (Easily) The people who live here, myself included, haven't got much money, that's all. 

CLARE:   You're all right. you choose to live here. you could make more money if you wanted to. You could find a job easily enough.

LARRY:   Thank you very much, I've got my job. And it's here. And it doesn't pay much at present. But leave me out of it. What's wrong with the left here? the inhabitants of this house are much more interesting than the inhabitants of your luxury flats. You want everything to be safe and comfortable. Why do people read adventure stories? Because they're in need of it. It's danger and necessity that drives inspiration and progress. 

CLARE:   Poverty is not an adventure. It's ugly and sordid. It makes people afraid. 

LARRY:   They knew more about truth in the old days...

                        "Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?
                                                      O sweet content!
                         Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed?
                                                       O punishment!
                        Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexed
                        To add to golden numbers, golden numbers?
                        O sweet content! O sweet. O sweet content!

Singing as he dabs at his picture.

                        Work apace, apace, apace,apace, apace:
                        Honest labour bears a lovely face:
                        Then hey nonny, nonny, hey nonny, nonny!"

CLARE:   Do you really think people should be so poor that they can't afford fires or nourishing food or warm clothes?

LARRY:   (Declaiming)

                        "Canst drink the waters of the crisped spring?
                                                            O sweet content!
                         Swimst thou in wealth, yet sinkst in thine own tears?
                                                             O punishment!
                         Then he that patiently Want's burden bears
                         No burden bears, but is a king, a king!"

CLARE:   You fool!

LARRY:   Not me — Thomas Dekker. Sixteenth century. But I agree with him. 

CLARE:   You wouldn't if you were really poor — poor by the standard of that old derelict, Poddy Jones; or the woman who lives in the basement, and does cleaning to help keep her crippled husband.

LARRY:   Mrs. Tate? She's as gay as a lark. I painted her as she scrubbed the floor, sitting back on her heels, with the brush in one hand, and giving me all the news. Her eyes are as bright as a terrier's just off for a walk. Then there's that nice quiet little woman, Miss Williams. The junk shop round the corner has my picture of her in the window. Miss Williams and her cat Julie. A picture of peace and contentment. 

CLARE:   (Slowly) I understand now. You live in this house because you like painting the people who live here. I suppose you call them picturesque. 

LARRY:   (Angrily) Such a damned silly word would never occur to me. I like them because they have character in their faces. Experience has weathered them. They don't wear the mask of easy living. 

CLARE:   You feed on the people in this house, like a vulture on a carcass. 

LARRY:   Thank you very much.

CLARE:   I suppose that is Art — using people, for your work. You don't want to help them. You don't want to make things better for them. 

LARRY:   (Impatiently) My dear girl, I'm a painter, not a preacher. I show these people to the world, as I see them. I don't tie a label on my pictures: "Old woman who ought to be enjoying more comfort; elderly lady who can't afford milk for herself and cat, and gives it all to pussy."

CLARE:   I suppose your painting is all that matters to you. 

LARRY:   (Lightly) I should think your aunt must have finished her breakfast by now. She'll be getting away from you again. 

CLARE:   All right — I'm going. (Fade) there are no "golden slumbers" in this house, Mr. Croft. 

Music: Fade out. 

PODDY:   Mrs. Tate! I've been looking for you.

MRS. TATE:   If you think I'm going to lend you any more tea, Mr. Jones, don't ask it, i haven't got it. 

PODDY:   I don't want anything but what's my own. You tell your husband to keep his hands off my firewood. 

MRS. TATE:   Arthur wouldn't touch your wood, and you know it. 

PODDY:   I saw him come in with a log from the shed. 

MRS. TATE:   We got our wood there, as well as you..

PODDY:   (Triumphantly) When you've got any — but you're right out of it! You've used your last piece..

MRS. TATE:   We're expecting a load. It's ordered. 

PODDY:   Well, tell your husband not to touch mine. i'll have to speak to Mrs. Colfin. 

MRS. TATE:   You needn't try to make trouble, Mr. Jones. (Louder voice) So you can shut your trap, you rotten little cadger! (Breaks off) Good morning, dear! How's yer auntie today?

CLARE:   Very well, thank you, Mrs. Tate. 

MRS. TATE:   I'm glad you've come to look after her. The old lady ain't fit to be on her own. She's lovely, though, isn't she?

CLARE:   (Wearily) Yes. 

MRS. TATE:   It's nice for 'er to 'ave someone of 'er own. it makes all the difference. That's what I always say to Arthur. (Breaks off) Oh, good morning, Mrs. Fenning! The kid all right?

MOLLY:   (Young, flat voice) Yes. Shirl's all right, thanks. I'm just going up to Mr Croft' for a bit, while she's asleep. He's fixing the picture of Shirl and me in the park. Wants to do something to my hair, he said. Then he's going to frame it for an Art Show. 

MRS. TATE:   That's nice. I'll listen for the kid, Mrs. Fenning, and give you a call if she wakes up. 

MOLLY:   (Fading) Thanks a lot, Mrs. Tate. 

MRS. TATE:   (Low voice) It's sad about that young Mrs. Fenning.

CLARE:   (Reluctant but curious) Is she a widow?

MRS. TATE:   No, dear. Her 'usband left 'er. They 'ad a nice little 'ome, too. Just walked out on 'er. she's only 'ad the baby a few weeks. The house and furniture wasn't paid for; so she lost the lot. 

CLARE:   Couldn't the police make him support her?

MRS. TATE:   They couldn't find 'im, dear. Just went off into the blue. A wicked thing, I call it. 

CLARE:   Her little girl is sweet. 

MRS. TATE:   Yes. Shirl's lovely. Mr. Croft painted a lovely picher of 'er with 'er mother. He's real clever. he'l be doing you one of these days, I dare say. 

CLARE:   I shouldn't think so. 

MRS. TATE:   (Encouragingly) 'E may. You're real nice looking and smart. Though it don't seem 'e goes by that. Look at that muddy little rat Poddy Jones! Lovely pitcher 'e made of 'im. You could fairly see the fleas 'opping. 

CLARE:   Don't!

MRS. TATE:   He pays you for your time, you know. Paid me as much as if I'd been cleaning. All I did was kneel there by me bucket, and never so much as wet me hands. Easy money, I call it. Mrs. Fenning is glad of it, I know that. 

Pause. Dabbing of paint brush.

Molly:   I'm tired. Can I get up and move 'round a bit, Larry?

LARRY:   Yes... (Absent) All right.. I can't do much more anyway. The light's bad. 

MOLLY:   It's raining. I hate this place when it's wet, and then I can't take Shirl out. Picture's about finished, isn't it?

LARRY:   Yes.

MOLLY:   Remember when you started? It was a day in the Park in the spring. I had Shirl on a seat by a big pepper tree...

LARRY:   There were some wattles blowing in the wind... and your hair. I got a rough sketch before you saw me. 

MOLLY:   Yes. It did me good, coming up here to let you do the painting. I was so miserable in those days, I thought I'd have to kill myself. It's terrible when you're lonely... and a kid isn't much help.. not when she's as young as Shirl. Now I feel this place is sort of like home. You get to know people. Mrs. Tate is a good sort. (More distant) You get a nice bit of  view from this window. Houses and backyards. Still, it's something. I reckon the rain's stopping. (Brighter) I'll be able to take Shirl out. 

LARRY:   Better take your money.

MOLLY:   Thanks. I'll be able to get her some new shoes. They cost the earth. That Miss Densil that's just come to look after the old lady, looks smart, doesn't she? She'll find it a bit different now. Mrs. Colfin says the aunt hasn't got much. Now it'll have to do for two. 

Music. Fade out. 

Traffic noises. Steps on pavement.

LARRY:   Hello, Clare! Been shopping?

CLARE:   Yes. Hunting for Aunt Ellen's biscuits.

LARRY:   You're looking very well in spite of living in a slum. Your face is much more relaxed. 

CLARE:   (Tightening up a little) is it?

LARRY:   You make quite a nice picture — holding that shopping basket. (Pause) You are now clad more like a peasant than a business executive. Don't you feel better?

CLARE:   Larry, I don't understand you. I've never met anyone so fierce against security. What are you fighting all the time?

LARRY:   (After pause) I suppose I'm fighting my home. (Pause) Dad made a lot of money, and built himself a mansion. Mum goes in for the social round — and believe me, she makes a full time job of it. You know the sort of thing — everlasting sessions for hair and nails and face and clothes and feet; and parties, and endless talks on the telephone. Dad dropped dead eight years ago. He couldn't stay the pace. 

CLARE:   So you're really a poor little rich boy!

LARRY:   Not much of it, I should think. Mum's been making it fly. She goes for trips to Europe about every other year. She likes staying at the best hotels and playing bridge all day. I see her once in a blue moon, when she comes by this town on her way to some place. I'm too uncouth for her liking. Always was. I'm like my father. but he at least made a lot of dough. A real hard hitter was dad. 

CLARE:   So that's where you get it from!

LARRY:   Me?

CLARE:   Yes. You slog away at your job, and nothing else matters. It doesn't happen to be running a business or a factory, or whatever he did — but that's all the difference. 

LARRY:   (With interest) Well, that's funny. I believe you're right. (Pause. Gently) Dad worked his way up. He didn't have anything made easy for him. Maybe that's where I got my feeling that soft living's no good. Mum got us smothered — with cars and fur coats and interior decorators, and exterior decorators, and parlour maids tricked out in little muslin aprons. 

CLARE:   Well, you certainly came a long way from all that when you came here. 

LARRY:   And when you came tripping in that first morning, with such an air of competent prosperity, you were a shock to me. 

CLARE:   So you went for me, like a dog barking at a stray cat. 

LARRY:   Was it as bad as that?

CLARE:   I wasn't really prosperous, either. I've had awfully little, till just the last couple of years, when I had a good job and salary. That's why I realise what a relief it is to be secure. It was terrible to have to throw it all up. 

LARRY:   But you came here?

CLARE:   What else could I do? Mrs. Colfin wouldn't keep Aunt Ellen unless I did, and it would be the same even if I could find another room for her somewhere else. She needs someone to look after her, and hasn't the money to pay them. So my good clothes are carefully put away in mothballs. 

LARRY:   You look much better, as I told you just now. 

CLARE:   Do you think my features will soon be sufficiently chiselled by suffering to make a good portrait?

LARRY:   It's too nice a morning for sarcasm. Sit down on the wall here in the sun. You needn't go in yet, surely?

CLARE:   Where did you get those picture frames?

LARRY:   From the little junk shop in the main street. I'm going to pull out the "Stag at Bay" and the "Dying Gladiator" and use them to frame Molly Fenning and your Aunt. Rather appropriate, don't you think?

CLARE:   (Laughs) Very. 

LARRY:   You get a good view of our slum dwelling from here. 

CLARE:   Poor old house! A hundred years ago, the cook and housemaid probably shared a double bed in your attic. 

LARRY:   I wish their ghosts would make themselves useful!

CLARE:   Can't you imagine them creeping down those breakneck stairs in the early mornings, all the way down to the basement, to light the fire in the big iron range, and stagger up again with cups of tea and hot water cans. 

LARRY:   This place must have been the equivalent of your luxury flat in those days. The kitchen maid would peep from the basement windows, as ladies in button boots tripped down those front steps to their waiting carriage. 

CLARE:   And now the steps are worn hollow, so that Aunt Ellen can hardly keep her footing on them, and the windows are screened by an odd assortment of curtains, and the front door needs painting and the gutters are in holes. 

LARRY:   But it's a good solid house all the same, and up aloft, where the cook once snored, Art flourishes, with the glorious stream of life to furnish its inspiration. (Quickly) And don't get ready to say anything about vultures and carcasses. 

CLARE:   (Weakly) I wasn't...

LARRY:   Which reminds me — I must get Poddy and Mrs. Tate and the rest of them along for tea this morning. I've sold the sketch of Miss Williams and her cat. We usually celebrate such an event with cups of tea. you'll come?

CLARE:   Thank you...

LARRY:   These bags are full of cakes and buns. But meeting you put the whole thing out of mind. You'll see that the poor know how to enjoy themselves.

CLARE:      "Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?
                                                      O sweet content!"

LARRY:   Hello, here's your aunt coming out. 

CLARE:   Oh, dear! (Louder) Aunt Ellen, where are you off to?

MISS DENSIL:   (Serenely) I'm going to visit Fergus, dear. 

CLARE:   (Distressed) Darling.. you're forgetting...

MISS DENSIL:   It's not too far for me to walk. There is a touch of autumn in the air this morning — almost a frost. Don't you think do Mr. Croft?

CLARE:   (Firmly) Aunt Ellen. You can't visit grandfather. He died years ago. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Suddenly confused) Fergus?.. But, Clare dear.. I.. I thought...

LARRY:   (Cheerfully) Come and have tea with me, Miss Densil. We're going to have a party. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Uncertain) You're very kind, Mr. Croft. 

LARRY:   Will you both come?

MISS DENSIL:   (Graciously) My niece and I will be very pleased to accept. 

Music. Fade in effects of party. 

LARRY:   A cake, Miss Williams?

MISS WILLIAMS:   (A sedate, elderly voice) Thank you so much, Mr. Croft. 

LARRY:   You're the guest of honour, you know, as the picture was of you. 

MISS WILLIAMS:   (Gently) And Julie. 

MRS. TATE:   Fancy bringing the cat to the party!

MOLLY:   She must have a saucer of milk.

Clink of saucer.

Come on! Julie! Puss, puss, puss!

MRS. TATE:   Reckon she don't take to the smell of turpentine. You been cleanin' them brushes of yours, Mr. Croft, I shouldn't wonder. 

LARRY:   What's the kid got, Molly?

MOLLY:   Milk. I brought her own mug... just in case. 

MISS DENSIL:   Really, Mrs. Fenning, how impolite!

MRS. TATE:   Real nice cakes these are, Mr. Croft. How about filling up the tea pot?

CLARE:   I've got the kettle on. (Fade) It won't be a minute. 

Fade voices and laughter. 

LARRY:   I like to watch you filling up the pot, Clare. Put the cosy on. That woolly thing's the joy of Mrs. Tate's heart. 

CLARE:   Is it hers? Where did she get such a big one?

LARRY:    It was thrown out at one of the offices she used to clean. I borrow it for festive occasions. 

Burst of distant laughter. An old gramophone plays. 

CLARE:   They're enjoying themselves. 

LARRY:   You don't dislike this place quite so much now, do you?

CLARE:   I... don't know. I suppose... there are happy times, like this. 

LARRY:   Yes, there are happy times. Don't take that pot back just yet. 

CLARE:   Mrs. Tate wants her tea. 

LARRY:   Put it down. 

CLARE:   Why?

LARRY:   Because it'll burn me. i want to kiss you. 

CLARE:   (Half laughing) What an extraordinary time to choose. 

LARRY:   Clare, put that pot down or one or other of us will be scalded. 

Pot on table. 

LARRY:   That's better. There's something unromantic about a large metal tea-pot thrust burning against one's chest...

CLARE:   Oh, Larry....

Door opened. 

MRS. TATE:   What's 'appened to that pot of tea? Oh, sorry, Mr. Croft. Didn't know you was in 'ere. I thought you'd gorn to look for that Poddy Jones. 

LARRY:   Poddy? Where the dickens has he got to?

Steps. Swell effects.

MRS. TATE:   Did you tell 'im you was 'aving a party?

LARRY:   Sure did. I shouted to him on the way upstairs. 

MISS WILLIAMS:   I saw Mrs. Colfin talking to him. 

MOLLY:   She isn't here either. 

MRS. TATE:   Well, I dare say she wouldn't bother herself to come up for a cup o' tea. But Poddy's different. 

CLARE:   Here he comes now.

LARRY:   (Shout) Come on, Poddy!

MRS. TATE:   Why what's up, Mr. Jones? You look terrible. 

Gramophone cuts out. 

PODDY:   (Fading in) You may as well ask what's up. I've just had a piece of bad news. 

MRS. TATE:   Why, I am sorry..

PODDY:   The place is sold. We've all got to get out. 

MISS WILLIAMS:   (A wail) Oh, no!

MRS. TATE:   You don't mean — the 'ouse?

PODDY:   That's what she said.

MISS WILLIAMS:   (Fainter) Oh, no!

MISS DENSIL:   Did Mrs. Colfin say this, Mr. Jones?

PODDY:   Yes — Mrs. Flamin' Colfin!

LARRY:   Look, Poddy — come and have your tea. I'm sure you've got it all wrong, and there's no need to get everyone upset. 

PODDY:   you can pour me a cuppa — good and strong — I need it. 

MISS WILLIAMS:   Mr. Jones, did Mrs. Colfin really say... she had sole the house?

PODDY:   (With relish) She did, Miss Williams. She did. 

MRS. TATE:   I saw a couple of gentlemen come in a car yesterday. They looked the business sort. They was a long while in, talkin' to 'er. 

MISS WILLIAMS:   (With desperate calm) But, even if she has sold the place, it wouldn't mean for certain we should have to move. The new owner might let us stop on. 

PODDY:   Nothing like that! The perishing house is going to be pulled down. Demolished. to make way for offices or a service station or something. 

MISS DENSIL:   Oh dear, oh dear! This is very upsetting, clare dear...

CLARE:   (Quickly) Never mind, Aunt Ellen. If it's true, we'll find somewhere else. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Her voice is very agitated) Oh, but this is very worrying. It is not easy to find places to live. I know that. 

LARRY:   It'll be all right. don't worry, Miss Densil. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Rambling) My father's house had to be sold, you know, Mr.Croft. I remember the day when the furniture was put up for auction. The sideboard.. everything. Before that.. life seemed so safe. We never thought our old home would be lost. Since then, there have been so many changes. Nothing remains for long. there is no place... anywhere...

CLARE:   (Strongly) I shall be with you, Aunt Ellen. We'll find a nice place to live. I'll arrange everything if we have to move. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Vaguely) you're only a child, Clare. I mustn't rely on you. Fergus's granddaughter. Fergus used to help me such a lot. 

CLARE:   I'm quite old enough to look after you. So don't feel worried. there are plenty of good places. 

PODDY:   Not at the rent you're paying, there aren't.

LARRY:   Look, Poddy, shut up, will you?

PODDY:   It;s no good turning nasty with me, Larry. It's the truth I'm telling you. I've had a shock, I can tell you. Came all of a sudden, out of the blue. I was coming up here, after you sung out to me you were making tea. Mrs. Colfin pops out of her room and says "I'd like a word with you, Mr. Jones." I thought she was complaining about something in the usual way. But the next thing she says is: "I'll have to ask you to move. I want the whole place vacant by the end of the month. The house is to be pulled down, and you'll have to find a room somewhere else." It's her that wants demolishing, if you ask me!

MRS. TATE:   (Lamenting) Oh, it's cruel! I don't know 'ow I'll tell my 'usband. I really don't know. It's bad for them that ain't well. Crippled like he is. Everyone's afraid they'll be a nuisance. And it'll be hard for you too Mrs. Fenning. You got the kid to think of. 

MOLLY:   (Quietly hopeless) Yes... I don't know what I'll do. 

MISS WILLIAMS:   (Despairing) And my cat! Where ever shall I find a place where they'll have Julie. 

LARRY:   Oh, come on! It won't be as bad as all that. Look now, Mrs. Tate. Have this last piece of cake!

MRS. TATE:   I couldn't touch it, Mr. Croft, thank you very much. Not now, I couldn't. I'm too worried. 

CLARE:   Here's Mrs. Colfin. 

LARRY:   Ah, come on in. 

Steps. Pause. 

MRS. COLFIN:   (With an effort to seem at ease) So you're all up here. I thought the place was deserted. I hear you've sold another picture, Mr. Croft. That's fine.

Pause of silence.

MRS. TATE:   (Blurting it out) Mrs. Colfin, is it true, what Mr. Jones says, that you've sold the place and want us all to clear out?

MRS. COLFIN:   That's right. I was meaning to tell the lot of you today. 

PODDY:   (Mutters) It's not Christian! We're human beings. We've got to have somewhere to live .

MRS. COLFIN:   The place is my own, Mr. Jones, and I have a right to sell it. (Pause) I'm sorry about it. But the fact is, I've had a good offer, and I can't afford to refuse it. 

MISS DENSIL:   (With Dignity) Let me remind you that we pay good rent, Mrs. Colfin. 

MRS. COLFIN:   Well, Miss Densil, I'm afraid times have changed . (Quite gently) What you pay doesn't make much profit, when I've paid taxes. The place needs a lot of repairs, and I can't afford to do them. Now I've a chance to sell it, and it'll be a weight off my mind. 

MISS WILLIAMS:   But why must it be pulled down? Wouldn't some one else perhaps...?

MRS. COLFIN:   No one wants a big place in bad repair. It's the site that's worth a lot. I was surprised myself, I must confess, when this company made this offer. 

MISS WILLIAMS:   (Gently persistent) But there are so many people who live here — so many people who need a home. A home is more important than anything. You can do without anything..if you have a place to live..

PODDY:   (Angry mutter) That's right!

MRS. COLFIN:   (Getting annoyed) I've told you, I'm sorry. I can't do more. I must ask you all to make other arrangements as soon as possible..

PODDY:  What a hope!

MRS. COLFIN:   I'll let you have something for what you spent on this room, Mr. Croft. I want to be fair. And you'll find somewhere easy enough for your painting.

MRS. TATE:   (Sadly) That's right. Anyone'll take a single gentleman.

MRS. COLFIN:   You can take the stove of course. 

LARRY:   (Roughly) Thanks. You don't have to trouble yourself about me.

MRS. COLFIN:   Well, I want to do the right thing. 

MISS WILLIAMS:   The right thing! But you're not doing the right thing at all, Mrs. Colfin. 

MRS. COLFIN:   I put up with your cat all this time, Miss Williams, and this is all the thanks I get for it. In and out, under my feet, milk slopped about, and cats from the street yowling about. No one else will have it, I can tell you that!

MISS WILLIAMS:   (Wildly)  Oh, but they must! They must!

MRS. TATE:   Don't you worry, dear! The cat'll be all right. I've got more important things than a cat to think about. It's cruel..

MRS. COLFIN:   I'm sure you'll find somewhere, Mrs. Tate.

MRS. TATE:   (Bitterly) While there's life, there's 'ope!

MRS. COLFIN:   You needn't all look at me as if I was doing something wrong. We all have to shift for yourselves. I bought this place when houses were cheap. Now I can make a good profit on it by selling. You wouldn't expect me to turn it down, would you?

MISS DENSIL:   (With cold dignity) No, Mrs. Colfin. We should not wish you to do anything to your disadvantage. My niece and I shall certainly move as soon as possible. 

MRS. COLFIN:   (Hardening) Well, I've told you I'm sorry.

MRS. TATE:   (With sadness) My 'usband's the one... it's hard for old people and sick people in these days... if you don't have money. It's different for them that's earning. It's a different world for them. 

MISS WILLIAMS:   It's safe for them. 

MRS. TATE:   (A last effort) Couldn't you keep on a bit longer, Mrs. Colfin? Or maybe sell to someone who'd let us stop on?

MRS. COLFIN:   (Not unkindly) No one would want the house with you in it, Mrs. Tate. That's the trouble. It would take a couple of thousand pounds to put it in a good order. I had a man in last year to have a look at it for me. That's what he said. I haven't got the money. And I'd have to put up all the rents if I spent that much on it. No — the only thing is to get out. This is a good site, and I'll make a nice bit, and no worry.

MRS. TATE:  No worry!

MRS. COLFIN:   (Defensively) You'd do the same as me. Anyone would. It's not fair I should be blamed for what's no fault of mine. Why should I keep on this old dump of a place, when I can get a good price for it? (Vigorously) You tell me? There isn't one of you who'd keep it on in my place. 

Pause. In the silence a distant bump. 

PODDY:   (Suddenly) Hoy! Did you hear that?

MRS. COLFIN:   Now what's the matter?

PODDY:   He's pinching my wood again! That's what's the matter!

MRS. TATE:   If you mean Arthur - 'e never is!

PODDY:   I'll catch him at it this time! Thinks we're all safe out of the way...

MRS. TATE:   Mr. Jones, don't you dare say he takes your wood...

PODDY:   (Fade) I'll catch him at it! I heard him...

MRS. TATE:   (Shouting) It's not your wood, it's ours.. It's our load of wood being dumped... It's ours..

PODDY:   (Distant) I'll catch him...

Distant cry and heavy fall.

MRS. TATE:    Oh, my gawd! What's 'appened?

MRS. COLFIN:   It's those stairs...

MRS. TATE:   (Distant) Sounds like 'e went down 'em 'ead first!

LARRY:   Stay with your aunt, Clare. (Distant) Don't come. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Very agitated) Clare! Oh, my dear, I'm afraid there has been an accident. 

MRS. COLFIN:   (Fading) Shouldn't have rushed like that. The stairs up here are so steep....

CLARE:   Sit down, Aunt Ellen. 

MISS DENSIL:   It was such a horrible crash. I ought to do something to help the poor man.

CLARE:   Larry and Mrs. Colfin have gone..

MISS WILLIAMS:   Oh, dear! I'm afraid it was Julie. He fell over Julie...

CLARE:   You couldn't help it, Miss Williams. Don't get upset..

MISS DENSIL:   Why did he rush off like that? I didn't understand what he said?

CLARE:   He thought he heard someone downstairs, taking his firewood. 

MISS DENSIL:   (With decision) This is not a nice house, Clare. I'm glad we're leaving it. It's not the right place for you. Fergus would not like it. 

Steps.

CLARE:   Oh, Mrs. Tate - is Poddy badly hurt?

MRS. TATE:   The poor old devil's broke his neck, Mr. Croft reckons. Him and 'is precious wood! Always afraid someone would pinch a log off 'im. What 'e 'eard just now was the carter tipping our load in the lane. Just shows you... (Pause) Well, 'e's gorn now!

MISS DENSIL:   Oh, dear! How dreadful!

MRS. TATE:   (With gusto) Well, I'd best go along down. Arthur will be wondering what's 'appened. Lucky Mrs. Fenning went down with the kid just before it 'appened. It's no good for kids to see anything like that. Not that they understand. Just as well they don't sometimes. It comes soon enough. (More distant) Pore old Poddy Jones! 'E was a dirty old cadger, but I'm sorry for 'im..

CLARE:   Aunt Ellen, don't be upset..

MISS DENSIL:   (Composed again) I'm not, dear. I'm quite all right. Shall we go downstairs to my room now?

CLARE:   (Hesitating) Wait... just a little...

MISS DENSIL:   Yes, of course. I don't want you to see anything unpleasant, dear. I remember, when I was a girl, there was a terrible accident, when the men were putting the roof on our new wool shed. One of them fell off a ladder....

MISS WILLIAMS:   I think I had better go and find Julie. I don't want her to run out in the street.. (Fade) and she must have got a fright...

CLARE:   Miss Williams and her cat!

MISS DENSIL:   (With relief) Ah, here is Mr. Croft!

LARRY:   (Fading in) All right, Miss Densil? How about a drop of Brandy? I expect this has given you a shock. 

MISS DENSIL:   I don't need anything, thank you, Mr Croft. 

CLARE:   (Quietly) Poddy is dead, isn't he?

LARRY:   Yes. Mrs. Colfin has gone to ring the police and a doctor. Poor old Poddy! he went rushing down these steep stairs at the top, and tripped and tripped over the cat....

CLARE:   (After pause) Larry - do you still talk of "Golden Slumbers"?

LARRY:   (Uneasily) Why not?

CLARE:   Golden Slumbers - when an old man breaks his neck trying to stop another old man from taking a stick of wood for his fire! Golden Slumbers - when your home can be swept away at any moment, and even this poor shabby rat-hole isn't a permanent refuge! When your shoes need mending; and you haven't enough blankets; when you can't afford potatoes, and someone you love is ill, and you can't look after them properly. You can keep your Golden Slumbers, Larry! I sleep better in security - and so does all the world!

LARRY:   (Sadly) Maybe you're right....

Music. Fade out. 

Pause. Knock on door. 

MRS. TATE:   (Brightly) Come in! 

Door opened. 

MISS DENSIL:   (More distant) Oh, good morning, Mrs. Tate. 

MRS. TATE:   'Morning, Miss Densil! Come right in. Admittance free!

MISS DENSIL:  I wanted to speak to Mr. Croft. 

MRS. TATE:   He's not in. He had to go out. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Disappointed) Oh....

MRS. TATE:   I don't suppose he'll be long. He went off early. Said he had some business in town. He don't often go off of a morning, but I shouldn't wonder if it was something to do with that poor old Poddy Jones. 

MISS DENSIL:   The police were very considerate..

MRS. TATE:   There was a nice bit in the paper. "Fatal Accident in Suburban Loding-'ouse". Poor old Poddy! It was sad 'im being took so sudden. But I'd rather it was that way meself. I don't fancy lingerin' in a 'orspital bed, do you, Miss Densil?

MISS DENSIL:   (Rather absently) No... no. 

MRS. TATE:   (Lowered voice) Between you and I, Miss Densil, I reckon there's something queer going on. I don't know mind you, but I saw Mrs. Colfin go into Poddy's room and start packing up his things, after the police went off. I offered to give 'er an 'and, but she sent me off quite sharp like, and then she come out of 'is room and locks the door. And down she goes to the telephone. And after a while, a city gentleman come in a car, and Mrs. Colfin takes 'im into Poddy's room with 'er. They was there a long while. And then 'e takes off a suitcase. And Mrs. Colfin she comes up 'ere, and talks to Mr. Croft. But I don't know what they were saying....

MISS DENSIL:   (Repressively) A private matter, I dare say.

MRS. TATE:   Oh, well, I dare say we'll know all about it sooner or later. Mr. Croft isn't one to keep things hidden. A nice, open sort of chap, he is. (Breaks off) Come in, and have a cup o' tea while you're waiting for 'im, why don't you?

MISS DENSIL:   Oh, I hardly like to take advantage of his absence to..

MRS. TATE:   Bless you, he wouldn't mind! I always make meself a cup of tea when I'm doin' for 'im. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Amused) I'm afraid I haven't the excuse that I'm doing for him!

MRS. TATE:   Well, you're a friend of his. Mr. Croft is always one to make his friends welcome. Come and sit down. The tea's all ready. 

Clink of cups. 

MRS. TATE:   Arthur and me'll miss 'im, when we 'ave to move. Funny! All this business of Poddy breakin' 'is neck 'as sort of put it out of me mind. But it won't make no difference to the place being sold. We all got to get out by the end of the month. (With a touch of envy) One thing for Poddy, 'e don't 'ave to bother lookin' for a new place to live. 'E's spared that. 

MISS DENSIL:   Yes, that's true. 

MRS. TATE:   (Quickly) But don't you worry dear. You'll be looked after. That niece of yours is a real nice girl. (Pause) I'll 'ave to start lookin' for a room meself. I'll 'ave a try this afternoon. Terrible job it'll be. But there's no good worryin'. Something'll turn up. It'll all be the same in a 'undred years, I always say. 

(Distant steps)

This'll be Mr. Croft coming now. 

LARRY:   (Fading in) Hullo! Having a tea-party?

MRS. TATE:   I knew you'd like me to give Miss Densil a cup.

LARRY:   Yes, indeed. 

MRS. TATE:   I'll get a cup for you. 

LARRY:   No - here's a mug. This'll do. 

MRS. TATE:   Hope it don't have any of your paints in it. Tea's a bit strong for what you like. But never mind. 

Tea poured. 

Don't you look nice in your good suit. I forgot you 'ad it. 

LARRY:   Phew! And the sooner I get out of it the better. 

MRS. TATE:   You look lovely. (Pause) Well, I must get on. I've given your kitchen a real good do. 

LARRY:   Thanks, poppet!

MRS. TATE:   (Laughing) Poppet! Listen to 'im! Well, I'll love yer and leave yer. I promised to give Mrs. Colfin an 'and with 'er washin'. It's nice and sunny. (Fade) Lovely morning for dryin'...

LARRY:   Have some more tea, miss Densil?

MISS DENSIL:   No, thank you. (Urgently) Mr. Croft, I wish to ask your advice. i'm a little confused about a letter... a letter I had today. Might I trouble you to read it?

LARRY:   Of course. 

Letter opened. 

(After pause) Good heavens! (Slight pause) Well.. I'm bothered. 

MISS DENSIL:   Please tell me what the letter says, Mr. Croft. 

LARRY:   Well, the secretary of this place - "River Meadows" - wherever that is ? - writes that... Let's see. "With regard to your application of three years ago, they are pleased to inform you that there is now a vacancy". A vacancy?

MISS DENSIL:   (Quietly) That must mean that.... I may go there to live. That is what it means, does it not?

LARRY:   Apparently. 

MISS DENSIL:   Thank you, Mr. Croft. I don't rely upon my own ability to read documents of a business nature. My brother Fergus always helped me. 

LARRY:  Where is this place "River Meadows", Miss Densil?

MISS DENSIL:   (Warmth in her voice) A home for Old People. (Pause) Three years ago, I was taken by some friends for a drive in the country. We passed the house - a large old house built near a river. There were sheep and lambs in a paddock quite close to it. It all looked so peaceful. (Pause) It reminded me of my old home - so quiet and .. permanent. My friends told me the name of the Home and I wrote to the matron, and she sent me a very nice letter. In fact, she got a very kind woman to visit me, and bring a form which I filled up. There was a long waiting list. But my name was put down. (Pause) That is so long ago that I had forgotten all about it. Things slip out of one's mind. When I opened this letter, I was quite at a lost for a time.

LARRY:   (Gently) Would you like to go to this Home?

MISS DENSIL:   I should like it very much, Mr. Croft. But I am worried about my niece, Clare. I am not sure that I should leave her. 

LARRY:   (Quickly) Leave her? But she.. (Breaks off) I'm sure Clare would wish you to go there, if you would be happy. 

MISS DENSIL:   You see, Mr. Croft, she came to live with me.. and at first I felt she was unhappy. I did not quite understand why she gave up her work and came to live here. I thought perhaps there had been... (Low voice) an unfortunate love affair. 

LARRY:   (Trying not to laugh) Indeed?

MISS DENSIL:   I think I told you, Mr. Croft, that my sister Emmeline had an unfortunate love affair which much effected her health, and was, I am sure, responsible for her death. I was worried about Clare, when she first came to stay with me. She seemed so silent and depressed, and her nerves seemed so on edge. But lately she has seemed in much better spirits. If she would like..to remain with me...I must consider her.

LARRY:   I think she would like you to accept this vacancy. She won't be unhappy. 

MISS DENSIL:   It is a great relief to hear you say so, Mr. Croft. I know that you and Clare have seen something of one another, while she has been here, and young people talk so freely nowadays. You would not advise me to do anything which would cause her unhappiness, I am sure. 

LARRY:   No. 

MISS DENSIL:   (After pause) It would mean security. 

LARRY:   Clare believes that everyone should have security. 

MISS DENSIL:   But what of Clare herself?

LARRY:   You need not feel anxious. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Sigh of relief) Thank you, Mr. Croft. I shall be very glad to find a permanent place... pleasant and peaceful... not lonely.. but out of the confusion of streets and traffic. I don't think it would matter there, if I sometimes forgot...

LARRY:   I'm sure it would not. 

MISS DENSIL:   I'll go and talk to Clare about it. If you had been of a different opinion, I meant to ask you to write for me to decline this offer, so that the child would not be worried. But as it is.. I shall write myself. Thank you so much for the cup of tea, Mr Croft. I hope your work is progressing satisfactorily?

LARRY:   Very well, thank you. I've been framing the portrait of you. There it is. 

MISS DENSIL:   How very nice! You really have made my dress look wonderfully rich - almost like now. And the old parasol. One would never think that the silk was split. I don't know whether my face would be considered a good likeness. But that is not necessary, I understand, by modern standards. I trust you will be successful at the upcoming Exhibition. (Fade) Now I will find Clare. (Louder)  Mrs. Colfin! Have you seen my niece?

MRS. COLFIN:   (Fading in) She's hanging some clothes on the line in the yard. I've just come from there. 

MISS DENSIL:   (Distant) Thank you. 

LARRY:   Well, Mrs. Colfin, have you made up your mind?

MRS. COLFIN:   (Slowly) If you really mean.. what you said just now.. I don't see why not. 

LARRY:   I mean ir. 

MRS. COLFIN:   The money's the same wherever it comes from. And the lawyer says everything's all right?

LARRY:   Yes. 

MRS. COLFIN:   Mind you, I think your're crazy. 

LARRY:   Never mind. I'm not certifiable. 

MRS. COLFIN:   Pretty near it, I reckon! But I won't say I'm not glad it's worked out like this. I wasn't happy about the other arrangement. Seeing everyone so upset the other day got me quite upset. I couldn't sleep - what with that and Mr. Jones going like that... I felt terrible. I kept about the poor old devils all having to turn out... and maybe getting knocked out, trying to find somewhere else.... And I've got to like the house, though it's been a worry to me, with not being able to keep it in order. It's a well-built place, and could be fixed up like you said. Well, they'll be pleased to hear the news. You've saved 'em - you and Poddy. You're sure the will is all right?

LARRY:   Yes. The lawyer says its ok. The Will of William Poddington Jones, deceased, is quite in order. 

MRS COLFIN:   You could have knocked me down with a feather, finding all that stuff in the old chap's room. And the will.. You're sure you know your own mind, Mr. Croft?

LARRY:   Quite sure. 

MRS. COLFIN:   Well, I'll get the papers made out. It's a relief to me, I must own. 

LARRY:   Tell them they don't have to move. 

MRS. COLFIN:   All right, I will. I'll let 'em know right away. I'll go and tell Mrs. Tate now. She's down in the washhouse. She'll be glad. (Fade) Oh, well, as long as you don't regret it, Mr. Croft... as long as you don't regret it...

CLARE:   (Distant) Hell, Larry? (Nearer) What are you not to regret?

LARRY:   Just a little business deal. 

CLARE:   Well, you can keep your mysteries. I'm struck all of a heap by Aunt Ellen. She's been talking to you, hasn't she? Showed you the letter from the Home?

LARRY:   Yes. 

CLARE:   Do you think she really wants to go there?

LARRY:   I do. She's longing to. It means peace and security. 

CLARE:   That's all right, then. I was afraid she might be doing it to save me from responsibility. 

LARRY:   No fear. She regards you as her responsibility. She thinks she may be deserting you in your hour of need. 

CLARE:   What hour of need?

LARRY:   Your aunt rather thinks you had an unhappy love affair, like her sister Emmeline. 

CLARE:   Good grief!

LARRY:   Apparently she found you rather low down-in-the-mouth when you first arrived at this slum, and she has a romantic mind. (Pause) She considers that you are much happier now. 

CLARE:   Oh, does she?

LARRY:   Anyway, I assured her that you would not be left in the lurch if she went off to her sanctuary. 

CLARE:   (Half laughing) I should think not. 

LARRY:   Will your job still be open?

CLARE:   Yes. 

LARRY:   And the share in the luxury flat?

CLARE:   Yes. (Indignantly) I don't know why you call it a luxury flat. It's just a nice modern flat, with hot water and.. power plugs.. and windows that open properly, and don't have to propped up with a bit of wood. 

LARRY:   Not a slum. (Pause) Well, isn't that nice. You'll be able to get your civilized garments out of mothballs. 

CLARE:   (Rather flat) I'm glad Aunt Ellen is safe. And it's a relief not to have to embark on a search for some place we can live.  

LARRY:   As a matter of fact, you wouldn't have to in any case. 

CLARE:   (Startled) Why? Isn't Mrs. Colfin going to sell the place after all?

LARRY:   She's selling it; but it's not going to be demolished. 

CLARE:   Oh, Larry, I am glad! they'll be so thankful.. poor old Mrs. Tate and the rest of them. But they don't know yet, do they? Molly seemed very worried just now. She was going to take Shirley out and start looking for a place. 

LARRY:   Mrs. Colfin is telling them now. 

CLARE:   But what's happened, Larry?

LARRY:   Poddy left a fortune. the little devil had sticks of money hidden away. 

CLARE:   Poddy Jones? But he was always whining about his poverty, and cadging from everyone!

LARRY:   Well, actually he had nearly three thousand pounds stowed away in a cardboard box under his bed, and a bundle of share certificates in a tin up the chimney, a bank book showing a tidy balance, a rent book from a couple of houses in a smart residential area, and the deeds of a small shop which he owned, and which apparently brought in good income!

CLARE:   Heaven! I can't believe it!

LARRY:   Yes. Mr. William Poddington Jones was quite affluent. He just had the saving bug, and couldn't bear to spend enough to get his boots soled. Mrs. Colfin nearly collapsed when she came to pack up his things. She was worrying who would pay for his funeral!

CLARE:   But, Larry, how does that affect this house? I don't see...

LARRY:   Well, you see, Poddy made a will. It's quite in order, the lawyer says. All his money comes to me. 

CLARE:   To you! Larry, that's marvellous! But why?

LARRY:   He used to come up here to the studio a good bit... and... sort of make himself at home. 

CLARE:   Yes, of course. (Pause. Then rather flatly) It's a lot of money. You'll be able to travel... for your work, I mean. Work in Paris.. or Italy.

LARRY:   (Lightly) Yes, I could, couldn't I?

CLARE:   (After pause) It's such a strange thing - having so much and living as Poddy did - as if he were a down-and-out. 

LARRY:   Possibly an excessive desire for security. 

CLARE:   (Half laughing) You would say that! (Pause) I suppose you think this justifies your "Golden Slumbers" slogan? The most complaining and meanest person was the one with a hoard of money. 

LARRY:   (Seriously) I'm not really holding a brief for poverty any more. 

CLARE:   Why?

LARRY:   I thought people could be happy living like this. But then we got the news about the house being demolished. And I saw how easily their happiness could be turned to fear. 

CLARE:   And speaking of that, you still haven't explained about the house. The money is yours, you say...?

LARRY:   I'm going to buy the house. ]

CLARE:   (With delight) Larry! Are you really?

LARRY:   I've been talking to Mrs. Colfin about it. She hadn't signed any papers about the other offer. I can ay her as much, and it's a relief. Apparently she didn't feel too happy about turning everyone out. Though I can see her point of view. 

CLARE:   Yes. (Seriously) The place is in a shocking state, you know, Larry. It needs an awful lot spent on it, as she said. 

LARRY:   Poddy had an awful lot. This house is going to be properly done up. Paint, plaster, woodwork - everything. Gutters and roof! More kitchens and bathrooms! A convenient labour-saving washhouse!

CLARE:   That's marvellous. (Slowly) But what about the rents? The people here couldn't pay more, They're all on pensions or small incomes from savings, like Miss Williams...

LARRY:   The rents will remain as they are. Mrs. Colfin says she'll act as caretaker. So there'll be no upheaval. What's left of Poddy's hoard will be a fund to keep the place in repair. 

CLARE:   But you..? You're being.. awfully generous. 

LARRY:   Oh, no. In the first place, I think Poddy owed a lot to everyone in this place. Mrs. Tate used to let him have all kinds of bits and pieces. (Pause) Apart from that - I don't want his money - or anyone else's. I told you that before. But you didn't believe me, did you?

CLARE:   Perhaps not - altogether. 

LARRY:   But it was true. For me and for my painting, I don't wan security, and I don't want a lot of money.
"Art thou poor, and yet hast thou golden slumbers?
                                                    O sweet content!"
is true for me. I believe in struggle and adventure and danger, because they promote strength in the human spirit, and the last ounce of effort which means inspiration and progress. I want to paint pictures which show that. I want faces that have not become masks. I want faces that have signs of living, signs of real experience. 

CLARE:   You thought that poverty meant - all that. 

LARRY:   I still do - for some people. But you were right about this house. Poverty is not an adventure - adventures are undertaken voluntarily. For the people in this house poverty is cruel. The old and the sick have a right to security and protection. I saw that when their home was to be demolished. They were frightened... panic-stricken... helpless.. All in a moment, their security could be destroyed. (Pause) That won't happen again - not here. 

CLARE:   I'm glad. 

LARRY:   (Change of tone) Clare, there's one thing I'm going to buy for myself - out of the money from my pictures. 

CLARE:   What's that?

LARRY:   A car or caravan. I shall have to find hard-living somewhere else. I'm going  out-back - to camp and paint. I'm going where there us another sort of adventure - where men and women don't battle with poverty, but with a grander enemy - the land. I'm going to paint the people who live out-back, and fight against fire and flood and drought and storms, and loneliness. 

CLARE:   (A low voice) You'll find... some good subjects there. 

LARRY:   Clare, will you marry me, and come too?

CLARE:   Yes. 

LARRY:   Could you face lonely farms and camps and primitive settlements in the bush?

CLARE:   Yes. 

LARRY:   Darling, how far are you in your heart from that nice secure job and luxury flat?

CLARE:   A long way, Larry. (Pause) Unless I go with you... I'm afraid I shall be like Aunt Ellen's poor sister Emmeline.. and.. die of an unhappy love affair!

Music.