|
|
Copyright: 1998.
[Enter GEORGE]
MRS. S: I hope that you didn't persist in your carryings on with those farmers?
GEORGE: No, mother.
MRS. S: Good. They sponge far too much from us already. We don't need them thinking that they're our friends.
GEORGE: Perhaps if we treated them more like friends then they wouldn't feel that they had to beg from us.
MRS. S: Really! No - I won't say it.
GEORGE: No, please do, mother. I'm sure you'll feel more at rest if you do.
MRS. S: No. Let us talk as mother and daughter for once, rather than as guests at one of your father's lobby meetings -
GEORGE: I went to one of the lobby meetings last week, actually.
MRS. S: Good Lord! [Alarmed] Don't tell me that he's started associating with suffragettes?
GEORGE: No. Set your mind at rest, mother. I was meeting him as his daughter.
MRS. S: Hardly a suitable environment for a family reunion.
GEORGE: I think he rather enjoyed showing me around.
MRS. S: Yes. I imagine he sees the commons as his home, rather than here.
GEORGE: You should go and see him there sometime. It was a reception for Russian sailers. It was remarkable how quickly they took to him.
MRS. S: I dare say they did, but it was men's business that had nothing to do with you.
GEORGE: Oh, mother. You must really try and not provoke me [MRS. S. tries to hide a smile of genuine amusement].
MRS. S: SO. How have you been occupying yourself recently?
GEORGE: Oh, with men's business, I'm afraid. Organising meetings and rallies, writing letters and so forth.
MRS. S: And who have you been seeing? - Apart from sailors and farmers, of course.
GEORGE: Oh. Just the usual folk whom I work with. You should come up to town and meet my friends. They'd like to meet you.
MRS. S: So have you met their parents then?
GEORGE: Yes, some of them.
MRS. S: What on earth are they socialising with young people for?
GEORGE: Oh mother - the suffragette movement isn't about a lot of young people doing things their parents disapprove of. There are several women who work with us who are older than you are.
MRS. S: I'm really not sure at all that I like the idea of you being friends with such dubious characters -
GEORGE: I don't think that there's much to worry about.
MRS.S: And the men that you see? Are they from good families? Why are they spending time with a suffragette? Are any of them interested in you?
GEORGE: Wait mother! I can't answer all your questions at once. The men I work and socialise with are perfectly respectable, and who are interested in women's suffrage as part of a wider movement of political emancipation. They aren't degenerate monsters.
MRS. S: Oh. [Pause]. Are any of them - close friends?
GEORGE: No, mother. That would detract from the political aims.
MRS. S: Georgina, why don't you let us hold another ball for you? You're still about young enough -
GEORGE: I'm 26, mother. Hardly a blushing debutante. I would if it would make you really happy, but I'm afraid that I'd let you down. I wouldn't look young and sparkling and pretty in the way that you'd want...That ball that you gave me when I was 18 - it just wasn't right. I felt like I was on display: belittled, somehow. Can't you be satisfied with the balls that you give for Vita?
MRS. S: But she always looks like such a - dandelion - at these occasions. So shy and ridiculous. You looked like a rose.
GEORGE: Mama!
MRS. S: You might not realise it, Georgina, but you're actually a very attractive woman, and it makes me angry to see you waste your life like this! Well. You're not an old maid yet, but you will be soon. [Upset] Oh why couldn't I have normal children?
GEORGE: Oh mama. You mustn't be so hard on us. Particularly not on Vee. She does everything that you ask her!
MRS. S: So gracelessly. With such self-pitying misery. If she's not making a dismal racket on that piano.
GEORGE: I think that it's Ivy making a lot of the noise. Vita's giving her lessons, you know.
MRS. S: We let that maid get away with far too much. Surly inept creature that she is!
GEORGE: She'll learn. She's very young, mother.
MRS. S: I'm not sure its healthy having her around Herbert all the time.
GEORGE: Well. She can't see many people of her own age around here.
MRS. S: In days gone by, someone like IVY would have been kept below stairs until they were 21.
GEORGE: Yes, well - [decides to keep quiet. There is a silence. The piano can be heard].
Did you enjoy your ball-going youth, mother?
MRS. S: Most certainly I did! Dancing all night with eligible young men, being the centre of attraction, everybody commenting on how charming I was! I thrived on it. It was wonderful.
GEORGE: Was my father at any of these occasions?
MRS. S: No. Those were carefree days before I met your father. If he ever went to a ball it was only to win connections and influence [sighs]. Oh, I married beneath me!
GEORGE: Any woman could say that.
MRS. S: Don't be so flippant dear. Its a vulgar way to conduct yourself.
[Piano continues]
Oh! I've had far too much of this cacophony! It's giving me a headache! Excuse me, Georgina.
[MRS. S. exits to The Nursery]
[GEORGE looks out of the window, or perhaps ensure the comfort of the audience in the Drawing Room until Vita arrives]
VITA: Hello, sister.
GEORGE: Hello Vee. Was it a good lesson?
[VITA throws her hands in the air]
VITA: That girl really is very inept. Still, maybe she retains something.
GEORGE: How have you been?
VITA: Oh - I keep myself occupied most of the time. I still play the organ in church, if it's fine I might try my hand at a little watercolouring. I've done some teaching at the Sunday School...
GEORGE: Good. It sounds as though you're keeping busy.
VITA: ... Mother tried to arrange a young man to take tea with me, but then he fell off his horse and couldn't come. Then I had a cold...
GEORGE: I'm sorry.
VITA: It's nothing.
GEORGE: You should take care of yourself, Vita. You do look washed out.
VITA: Thank you. You're never ill, of course. You just glow with health like a lantern all the time -
GEORGE: That's not entirely true, sis.
VITA: Oh no! It wasn't meant as a criticism! How long are you back with us?
GEORGE: Till Tuesday. I'm going to be in Paddington for a fortnight, so this'll be the last you see of me for a while.
VITA: Why must you leave for so long?
GEORGE: There's a large public meeting on Saturday week. It takes a lot of organising - catering, booking speakers, liasing with the police force, sending out letters-
VITA: I thought that your lot didn't like the police! You throw prussic acid in their faces and break their arms with umbrellas!
GEORGE: Vita, do you have the slightest idea what I work for?
VITA: [Sighing] Giving women the vote - you've told me.
GEORGE: Well, precisely. I'm not an anarchist. I'm a democrat.
VITA: So why are all of you always doing naughty things?
GEORGE: We believe in civil obedience, dear sister, not public disorder. Though it is true that there is no one unarguable definition. If you read what Henry David Thoreau wrote on the subject...
VITA No, of course I wouldn't. Don't try to brow beat me.
GEORGE: I'm not trying to brow beat you, but reading politics and philosophy proved to me that words are all we have.
VITA: Well. Words are not all that I have.
GEORGE: Look. I'm visiting a friend at the university tomorrow. Come with us to the library.
VITA: Ha! What a fun day out. You and some dowdy bluestocking old maid talking about Mary Wollstonecraft in a dusty library all afternoon! I'd rather go to the blacksmith's yard.
GEORGE: You'd enjoy visiting the university, Vita. You'd meet women your age with a bit of vitality and curiosity. Women with something more to talk about than their ponies and summer balls. I like living next to the university. When I wake up here and look at that magnificent building outside my window, I feel inspired by what women can achieve together. You should cherish it.
VITA: Huh.
GEORGE: I'm sure one day they'll let men into the college and ruin it, though.
VITA: Can't you stay for a few more days, George? I do like you being here.
GEORGE: I know Vee. But the world outside this house is rushing and whirling and flowing. I have to go out and make something happen. You should, too.
VITA: Why do you want women to be involved in politics and government? All father talks about is the National Insurance Act revolutions in Croatia, home rule for Ireland - all concerns that are of limited interest to women -
GEORGE: Well, I think I have to answer your question in two ways.
VITA: You are a politician! Only a man would answer a question in that manner.
GEORGE: Firstly, if we as women gain access to the machinery of power, then we can effect and improve matters that directly concern us: health care, provision of adequate schooling, equal pay-
VITA: None of which concern me as a woman, at all.
GEORGE: In time they might, Vita. We could bring a female voice into the discussion on such things as divorce and contraception and so forth. Secondly, home rule for Ireland and revolution in Croatia affects women just as much as men, and should concern us.
VITA: No they shouldn't.
GEORGE: Its not just men who fight in wars, Vita.
VITA: It is! It is!
GEORGE: Our lives are bound with those of men. Women have to tend the sick, mourn the loss of life, and cope living in zones of war.
VITA: I'm not Florence Nightingale, I have no husband to mourn, and I find it hard to believe that Surrey will ever be a war zone.
GEORGE: Vita, wars, revolutions, budgets, trade - all affect your life. Your existence is defined by economics.
VITA: I leave all the worrying about money to father. So should you - you'd be much happier.
GEORGE: Just like you are?
[GEORGE and VITA argue about who is happiest until MRS. S. arrives. If MRS.S. is early, she can fuss tidying the furniture etc.]
MRS. S: How pleasant to see you together, even if you are arguing, as usual. Your brother will be joining us in a minute.
GEORGE: Big or little?
MRS. S: Little.
GEORGE: It's funny to see him looking so grown-up. I can still remember us all playing billiards together when he was four.
MRS. S: Always rather a dubious activity for well-brought up children, I thought.
VITA: You must remember this story, mother?
MRS. S: No.
GEORGE: He thought it would be cheating if we took the triangle off the balls!
MRS. S: Oh dear. He's always been rather pious, I'm afraid
VITA: Little idiot!
[They laugh, and talk about their childhood until HARLEY enters]
GEORGE: Oh Harley! We thought that you were going to be your brother!
HARLEY: Then my arrival must come as a horrible disappointment to you.
VITA: Don't denigrate yourself, Harley.
HARLEY: No. I leave that to mother. [He kisses her, then his sisters].
MRS. S: What have you come back for?
HARLEY: Oh - I had one or two amusements to attend to.
MRS. S: I hope that you haven't been naughty.
HARLEY: No. I've been through that phase. I pass on the baton of naughtiness to Vita.
VITA: Why? What do you think I've done?
HARLEY: Nothing to condemn, I'm sure. I was simply positing the notion of naughtiness in your pretty head, dear sister.
VITA: And why is that?
HARLEY: Because I think that you'd enjoy bad behaviour!
VITA: You must take me up to London sometime.
MRS. S: Harley, you must not! Two black sheep is quite enough for one family.
GEORGE: Two, mother?
MRS. S: At the moment, I'm worried enough that Herbert will join your ranks, without Vita running wild, too.
VITA: No mother.
HARLEY: How is my brother disgracing himself?
MRS. S: Haven't you heard? He's going to become a missionary.
[HARLEY bursts into slightly crazed demonic laughter]
VITA: Why does that amuse you?
HARLEY: Oh really! That's too funny! Herbert couldn't lead a spider out of bath, let alone a heathen to Jesus!
GEORGE: Becoming a missionary can hardly be described as wanton conduct, mother.
MRS. S: It's still wilful behaviour, and he knows that it is not what his parents wish for him.
HARLEY: Do you remember when he was little, and trod on a snail?
MRS. S: Yes, and he tried to glue it back together, the young fool.
VITA: I can't believe that he's grown up.
MRS. S: He's still a child.
GEORGE: He's 18, mother.
MRS. S: He's a very young 18. Anyway, men don't grow up until they're 29.
HARLEY: I'm 28!
MRS. S: Well. I still hold out some tiny hope that you'll become sensible and respectable soon. You've sown your wild oats. Now is the time to gather in the harvest.
GEORGE: When do girls grow up then?
MRS. S: A girl should be sweet at 18, married at 21, and a mother by 25.
GEORGE: Oh dear. I'm 26.
VITA: I'm not even sweet yet, and I'm 22. Perhaps everything will fall into place at once. I've heard that good things come in threes.
HARLEY: Am I sweet? Was I ever sweet?
MRS. S: What a strange question, Harley. No, you were always an admirable and manly boy. I wish I knew where it all went wrong. Herbert tells me that you still hold the cross-country record at Eton.
HARLEY: That's probably where it all went wrong, in fact.
MRS. S: What on earth do you mean?
HARLEY: I learnt a few things on those training runs, shall we say.
[Blank incomprehension from the family]
Do you remember the sweet-shop girl?
VITA: She always used to give Herbert extra sweets with his "Boy's Own" paper. But then she went away suddenly. Herbert cried.
MRS. S: Only because he had fewer sweets, I daresay. He was a fat little thing!
GEORGE: That's not a very kind thing to say, mother. So are you saying that you were the cause of the departure?
HARLEY: Yes.
GEORGE: And for what reason?
HARLEY: The usual reason.
GEORGE: But Harley! That's appalling! She was only about 15.
HARLEY: She was only the sweet-shop girl.
MRS. S: Boys will be boys, Georgina.
GEORGE: But that's terrible.
VITA: What dissimilar lives we lead, brother. You could have been an Olympic athlete if you'd persisted.
HARLEY: A hero of the empire! I'll leave that sort of thing to my brother.
MRS. S: Oh what a family! What I'd give for a normal child!
VITA: I'm normal. How am I untypical?
MRS. S: Oh really, don't make a scene, Vita.
[MRS. S. and VITA argue until ARTHUR and HERBERT arrive]
ARTHUR: Mr. Sutherland wants to see you again, Master Sutherland, Sir.
HARLEY: Certainly.
MRS. S: Oh really! Can't he dismiss those tiresome farmers first? Dreadful people!
GEORGE: They're not hooligans, mother.
MRS. S: Maybe not, but I'd rather not suffer their squalid idiocies in my own home.
ARTHUR: Shall I convey your message to Mr. Sutherland, Madam?
MRS. S: I'll do it myself. Then perhaps he could join us all for tea.
HARLEY: That should be one hell of a party.
[Exit ARTHUR to The Stairwell, HARLEY and MRS. S. to The Study via The Stairwell]
GEORGE: We were talking about you just now, little H.
HERBERT: Oh.
GEORGE: About how you used to think it would be cheating if you took the triangle off when we played billiards.
HERBERT: I don't remember that. I must have been very young.
VITA: It wasn't so very long ago. And about you tried to glue the snail back together!
HERBERT: I was only five! I thought it might live again!
GEORGE: The young St. Francis of Assisi, no less. What about... when you went shopping with Arthur and he bought a tin of paint, and the shopkeeper asked him if he wanted it in a bag?
VITA: "No, keep it in the tin" you said!!
[The sisters laugh. HERBERT does not.]
HERBERT: You've reminded me of it on many occasions.
GEORGE: Or when cook told him to keep his fingers off the jam tarts -
VITA: So you put your toes in, instead! [More laughter.]
HERBERT: I was only little! I wasn't to know better. None of you remember cook hitting me as a result.
VITA: Well, you did deserve it, Little H. Who'd want to eat a jam tart after your smelly feet had been in it? Oh dear - it sounds as though mother's doing her best to start a peasants revolt.
GEORGE: Yes. Perhaps I'd better intervene.
[GEORGE exits to The Stairwell]
VITA: Well. You're not in a very good mood today, are you?
HERBERT: I'm sorry if it seems that way. It's just that I refuse to accept that I was that stupid as a child.
VITA: Oh you were, Little H. What about when you -
HERBERT: Yes! I'm sure I've heard about this before! It's just that you all remember me when I was little, and I can't do the same to you.
VITA: Oh - don't be so thin-skinned.
HERBERT: "When I was a child, I thought as a child, but now the time has come to put away childish things".
VITA: You're very young Herbert.
HERBERT: But I'm old enough to think and act as a man, and that's what I intend to do.
VITA: [Laughs] Who'd have thought that silly little Herbert would get to be so serious!
HERBERT: I'm 18. I have a duty to God and I intend to improve the world through missionary work.
VITA: Yes, but it's still the same as when you used to be bossy and order us all to play cowboys and indians with you.
HERBERT: I've still got a scar on my head from where you scalped me. But what do you mean?
VITA: Put on a different hat and play a different part - pirate, engine driver. Except that if you became a missionary, its real Herbert, and its actual lives you're affecting.
HERBERT: Well, all to the better then. I have the shining words of the Lord to guide me.
VITA: What about Muslims? They claim that their Bible was written by God.
HERBERT: Yes, but they're savages, aren't they? It's the job of Christians to show them the true path to heaven.
VITA: The Koran mentions Jesus.
HERBERT: Perhaps it does, but it's not the Bible is it?
VITA: What I'm saying, Little H. is that you should live a life of your own before you instruct other people.
HERBERT: Like yours - appeasing mother and being sour? Like George and her unwomanly cronies? Like my wicked brother? I am young and without sin - which puts me in an ideal situation.
VITA: To cast the first stone, no doubt. You're making a frightful mistake, Little H., both for you and your flock.
HERBERT: Don't call me Little H. - it's very condescending.
VITA: Your brother doesn't mind when we call him Big H.
HERBERT: He's hardly a shining example of anything, is he?
VITA: He might be a bit if a devil, but he's more of a man than you'll ever be! [Pause] Look - I'm sorry I said that but just try and lighten up a bit will you Li- Herbert. Go hunting and fishing, visit a few picture palaces and music halls, read a few novels, have a few drinks - try and kiss a few girls, perhaps. Just have fun while you're still so young. It'll be better for you.
HERBERT: "Not for ever by still waters shall we idly waste and stray".
VITA: Never by still waters in your case. It's not necessarily a sin to be happy.
HERBERT: It invariably is though. What spiritual satisfaction has your life given you, sister?
VITA: Oh for God's sake - Oh for goodness' sake! I'm hardly a wayward child, Herbert. Anyway, I'm a woman and you're a man - it's much easier for you to enjoy yourself.
HERBERT: Maybe you ought to learn a little of pain and suffering, sister.
VITA: Who do you think you are? Are you that oblivious? My whole life is nothing but suffering!
HERBERT: When I go to Bermondsey, I will be working with children who have rickets and tuberculosis and polio. That's suffering. Not your delicate neuroses.
VITA: Most of the time, I am desperately unhappy. No one loves me, I'm a worry to everyone, without doing anything to deserve it, I have headaches, I feel tired all the time. I feel frightened when I'm alone, which will probably be for the rest of my life, I... and what do you do help, Mr. missionary? You tell me off!
[HERBERT tries to apologise, but VITA won't allow him. Mrs. S. re-enters at some point]
MRS. S: Oh good! My two well-behaved children! What a relief it will be not hearing about gin palaces or emancipated women for a few moments.
[She carries on berating GEORGE and HARLEY until ARTHUR arrives]
ARTHUR: Mr. Sutherland wishes to see you again, Sir.
HERBERT: Very well.
[Exit ARTHUR and HERBERT to The Study]
MRS. S: You look rather flushed, Vita. You're not having another of your sick headaches, are you?
VITA: [Quiet] I'm sure that I shall be quite alright in a minute, mother.
[MRS. S. turns to face out of the window as she speaks. VITA is silently in tears, MRS. S. is oblivious to her distress, tutting and sighing at her own unluckly lot.
At some point, NELL walks past]
MRS. S: MY GOD! What the devil is this!
[She opens the window]
HEY! HEY YOU THERE! YES YOU! COME HERE! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT?
NELL: [Contrite] Oh, I'm terribly sorry, madam. I was walking through the fields, and I'm afraid I got lost.
MRS. S: Hmm. Where are you heading?
NELL: Oh - to the station - I went to Egham for the day.
MRS. S: Well - have you seen anything of interest here?
NELL: Oh! Yes.
MRS. S: What, then?
NELL: I went to - that place - where important people live.
MRS. S: Wentworth?
NELL: No - Windsor.
MRS. S: Did you enjoy it?
NELL: Oh yes! Such a beautiful castle. It made me come over all patriotic.
MRS. S: Rather a vulgar place, Windsor I always think. Full of Americans!
NELL: But you can't blame the King for that.
MRS. S: No. That's very true. My husband knows the King, actually. How did you get here from Windsor? Don't tell me you walked here!
NELL: No - I took the train.
MRS. S: Which one?
VITA: Mother, let the lady go. Don't interrogate her.
MRS. S: Don't mind my daughter, she has no curiosity into other people's lives.
NELL: I won't.
MRS. S: Which train?
NELL: Er - the one from Windsor station -
MRS. S: Which station?
NELL: Pardon?
MRS. S: There are two.
NELL: Oh - the one closest to the castle.
MRS. S: Where did that take you?
NELL: Oh - er -
MRS. S: The Sunday service is particularly bad. Non-existent, in fact.
VITA: Mother, the lady's bag is clearly weighing her down. Just let her go.
MRS. S: Perhaps you'd care to share a cup of tea with us?
NELL: No, no - I really must be off.
MRS. S: My daughter was just commenting on how heavy your bag looks. Perhaps I can fetch someone who can carry it down to Egham for you -
NELL: No, no - I'm quite alright, thank you.
MRS. S: What's in it that makes it so heavy?
NELL: Oh, nothing! I just picked up a few odds and ends in the market.
MRS. S: Antiques?
NELL: More junk, really.
MRS. S: Oh! Do show me! I like to think that I have a keen eye for objects -
NELL: NO! No... it wouldn't be worth your time, just insult your intelligence.
MRS. S: I'm the best judge of that. Come on! Show me!
[Reluctantly, NELL takes out the candlesticks]
Oh yes! Now these look like a handsome pair. Let me have a closer look. My word! These are seventeenth century! How much did you pay for them?
NELL: A guinea for the pair.
MRS. S: What a marvellous market you must have visited. Inspect these, Vita
[As she turns round to hand the candlesticks to VITA, she whispers instructions.]
Quick! Vita, get Arthur to apprehend our visitor! These are OUR candlesticks!
VITA: Oh, Mother.
MRS. S: Come on. Don't dawdle. And try not to let those dreadful farmers overhear you.
VITA: Yes Mother.
MRS. S: So what market did you visit?
NELL: It might have been a travelling auction - near the castle. Not a regular thing.
MRS. S: That sounds rather dubious. How can you be sure that you're not handling stolen goods?
NELL: Oh - there were dozens of highly respectable people in attendance.
MRS. S: It must have been alright then.
NELL: Yes. It must have. Well. I'll just take them back, and be on my way.
MRS. S: Yes, you will. I'll just share with you some of the interesting details first.
[MRS. S. launches into a knowledgeable discourse about the history of the candlesticks, much to NELL's discomfort.
This continues until VITA returns to the drawing room, who tries to shut her mother up.
Eventually, ARTHUR appears outdoors.]
ARTHUR: I'm afraid that I'm going to have to request that you return indoors, Miss.
NELL: Eh?
[NELL tries to escape with some difficulty. ARTHUR successfully restrains her.]
ARTHUR: You're off to prison, you common little tinker!
[ARTHUR leads her away]
MRS. S: NO! NO! ARTHUR!
ARTHUR: [Now breathless] Yes, Madam?
MRS. S: Not through the front door!
ARTHUR: Of course, madam.
[ARTHUR and NELL exit to eventually arrive at the Stairwell]
[The Kerfuffle dies down]
MRS. S: Oh my word! What a kerfuffle!
VITA: It certainly added a little excitement to our lives.
MRS. S: More like a lot of bother and humiliation, I fear. There's far too much excitement in our family as it is.
VITA: No there isn't.
MRS. S: Please don't contradict me, especially when I am right. You are becoming tiresomely insolent these days, Vita!
VITA: But there is no excitement in our lives, mother. There is in the lives of our menfolk, and my sister, George.
MRS. S: If you think that your sister leads a more exciting life than you, then why don't you go and join her legion of Amazons? At least you might get to meet well- brought up men.
VITA: Yes. Once in a blue moon, they come here, but then never return. I'm growing old, mother,
MRS. S: Nonsense! You're only 22.
VITA: That's old enough to start to worry.
MRS. S: It is too young to panic, Vita. You have eight years until you definitely become an old maid. At least you do worry about it, unlike your sister.
VITA: But George is right not to worry about it. At least she enjoys herself.
MRS. S: Well. You have your watercolours and the piano playing to amuse yourself with. That seems more enjoyable than writing envelopes, and making cups of tea, which is what your sister herself says that her life consists of -
VITA: I think you've misunderstood slightly, mother. George does bold things.
MRS. S: So why don't you?
VITA: Because you wouldn't approve.
MRS. S: Well, I hardly approve of Georgina's behaviour, but it doesn't stop her.
VITA: She's your favourite, isn't she?
MRS. S: Vita! What a terrible thing to say!
VITA: It's true isn't it? Go on - admit it!
MRS. S: Sometimes, I think that you want me to be a bad mother to you.
VITA: I think that you manage to be a bad mother to me without any encouragement from my part. I wish I had a life of my own!
MRS. S: You do I have a life of your own, Vita. Stop talking foolish nonsense!
VITA: What do you know about my life? It's terrible! I often think about ending it you know.
MRS. S: Vita!
[MRS. S. starts to tidy and prepare for tea etc. VITA stares in disbelief at her mother]
VITA: What are you doing?
MRS. S: I am getting the tea ready for when your father and siblings finally join us. [Pause. MRS. S. continues to prepare. VITA walks up to her mother]. Go and fetch your father for tea. [Pause].
VITA: Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve been saying?
MRS. S: Don’t make a scene, Vita. Go and get your father. [They glare at each other for some time] GO AND GET YOUR FATHER. [VITA walks slowly to the door, stops, and turns around]
VITA: George is your favourite. I know it. [MRS. S. ignores her]. Why can you talk to George and not to me? You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, have you? My life is a misery - all because I’ve tried to make you happy! But its still not good enough for you is it? IS IT?
MRS. S: Vita, I really am not in the mood for one of your little tantrums. Stop behaving like a child. GO AND GET YOUR FATHER. [VITA takes a plate from MRS. S’s hands] Don’t even think about smashing that plate! Not when we have visitors in the house! What will they think? Oh - how will the neighbours think we carry on?
VITA: Am I really such an embarrassment to you? That’s all you care about, isn’t it? What other people think. Well, whatever would people think of a mother who can’t control her own children? I am the only one who has done the things you’ve asked for. I’m the only one who’s tried to make you happy, but it’s not enough, is it? [MRS. S. glares at VITA]
I HATE YOU!!
[VITA smashes the plate on the floor. They stare at the pieces, then MRS. S. stares at VITA. Slowly, VITA bends down to silently pick up the pieces, under MRS. S’s glare.]