An Inspector Calls and Other Plays Page 10

  FARRANT: No, I’m getting artful, Sam. I dodged it this time – worked well over to the right. The ordnance map’s all wrong about Grindle Top. [Sips sherry, and talks easily.] You know, Sam, there must have been three or four times as many people living in this dale two or three hundred years ago.

  SAM: I’ve heard ’em say that.

  FARRANT: Look at all those old ruins of byres and barns and sheep pounds – and the miles of old walls on the moor.

  SAM: Ay, they built them afore folk went into the towns. I remember me grandfather talking about that when I wor a little lad.

  FARRANT: Somebody ought to try and find the old records of these dales. Why, in the Middle Ages, what with all that old moorland farming life, and the abbeys and a castle or two, the whole place must have been humming with people.

  SAM: I’ll bet it worn’t humming wi’ folk today.

  FARRANT: Didn’t see a soul this afternoon over the Top except a couple of shepherds. [He finishes his sherry, and begins moving towards his bedroom.]

  [SAM takes glass, and then telephone rings. As SAM rather dubiously prepares to answer it, SALLY hurries in.]

  SAM: Yes, this is Black Bull. That’s right …

  SALLY [impatiently]: Here, I’ll answer it, Father.

  SAM: Hold on a minute.

  [She takes it from him.]

  SALLY: Yes, who is it? … Yes, Mr Ormund…. Well, it just happens we have two rooms because somebody’s just given us backword…. Yes, they’re both ready, you can come up as soon as you like. Straight away? … Will you be wanting supper tonight? Oh, I see…. Well then, you turn to your left just outside Marlingset, and then straight up and you can’t miss it…. That’s right. [Puts down telephone and is rather excited.] Now would you believe it?

  SAM [humorously]: I don’t know till you tell me.

  SALLY [excitedly]: That’s a Mr and Mrs Ormund. They rang up from Marlingset to see if they could stay over the week-end – they want a bedroom each – and they’re coming straight away – they’ve just had their dinner at the White Hart – and d’you know what I think?

  SAM: No, I don’t.

  SALLY: I believe this Mr Ormund is one o’ them big Ormunds – y’know – Ormunds Limited.

  SAM: Nay, he wouldn’t come here if he wor.

  SALLY: How do you know? And he sounded as if he’d plenty o’ money. Wanted two rooms and didn’t ask price or anything. I’ll bet you he’s one of Ormunds Limited. Him and his wife – they’ll be company for Mr Farrant.

  SAM: I told you we’d have them rooms let i’ no time. [Pauses.] I wonder if that foreign chap’s fixed up at Dale End?

  SALLY: He didn’t even know whether he wanted to stay or not.

  SAM: No, but happen it’ud suit him here now. We have a married couple for him, if that’s what he wants. [FARRANT returns, having changed his shoes and tidied himself.] You’re having company tonight, Mr Farrant. [Grins and goes out.]

  SALLY: There’s a Mr and Mrs Ormund coming tonight, to stay the week-end.

  FARRANT [interested]: Ormund?

  SALLY: Yes, an’ I fancy it’s one o’ them big Ormunds – Ormunds Limited – manufacturers – I expect you’ve heard o’ them?

  FARRANT: I ought to. They put up most of the money for my school.

  SALLY: Well, I’m sure this is one o’ ’em.

  [The noise of small car is heard outside.]

  FARRANT: Here already?

  SALLY: No, they couldn’t have come from Marlingset so soon.

  [She moves towards door, OLIVER watching idly. Before she can open it, DR GÖRTLER enters slowly, carrying an old-fashioned bag. He looks at SALLY, then sees OLIVER and appears to recognize him. SALLY looks at him, then at OLIVER, rather bewildered.]

  DR GÖRTLER [to FARRANT, with some eagerness]: You are staying here?

  FARRANT: Yes. [Pauses.]

  [DR GÖRTLER carefully puts down his bag. There is something decisive in his manner.]

  DR GÖRTLER: I am Doctor Görtler.

  FARRANT [rather puzzled]: My name’s Farrant, Oliver Farrant.

  DR GÖRTLER: A schoolmaster, I think?

  FARRANT: Yes, I’m head of Lamberton.

  DR GÖRTLER: I am now an exile from my own university – and my country, Germany – and I have been doing some little work for the University of London. [Turns to SALLY.] And still you have no room for me?

  [SALLY gives OLIVER a quick questioning look. He nods reassuringly.]

  SALLY: Well, as a matter of fact we have now, because those three ladies aren’t coming and we’ve a room to spare –

  DR GÖRTLER: I should very much like to stay here.

  SALLY [businesslike]: We charge twelve-and-six a day – all in. That’s for this holiday time and really we ought to charge more because we could easily get it – but –

  DR GÖRTLER [simply]: But you do not like to be greedy, eh?

  SALLY [rather taken aback]: No.

  DR GÖRTLER: I will stay. The car will be all right there for a time, eh?

  SALLY: Yes. My father can put it away.

  DR GÖRTLER: And my room?

  SALLY: It’s up there.

  FARRANT: Next door to me. I’m just going to have some supper, Dr Görtler. You’d better join me.

  DR GÖRTLER [taking SALLY in too]: Thank you, yes. I should like something to eat. Anything.

  SALLY: I’ll see to it. My father can show you your room. [Hurries out.]

  FARRANT: It’s a simple unpretentious little place – but they’re nice people – and I think you’ll be comfortable.

  DR GÖRTLER: Thank you.

  FARRANT: What’s your subject? Science?

  DR GÖRTLER: It was physics and mathematics.

  FARRANT: Not now?

  DR GÖRTLER [with a slight shrug]: I still teach these subjects. But for myself – I go farther –

  FARRANT: Research, eh?

  DR GÖRTLER: You might say – exploring.

  FARRANT [with a smile]: I know. Spherical geometry. Two parallel lines meeting. Two angles of a triangle no longer greater than the third angle. Poor old Euclid turned upside down and inside out. I have a maths master who talks like that – for his own amusement – not ours – [Pauses, then looks hard at DR GÖRTLER.] You know, I must have seen your photograph somewhere.

  DR GÖRTLER: No, I do not think so. I am not an Einstein.

  FARRANT [hesitantly]: I thought I – seemed – to recognize you.

  DR GÖRTLER: We often seem to recognize people – and places.

  FARRANT: I don’t.

  DR GÖRTLER: You have been ill?

  FARRANT: I was ordered a short rest. [Pauses, then resumes, rather hastily] They say that it’s when you’re nervously exhausted that the two halves of your brain don’t synchronize. Then they play that recognition trick on you. Isn’t that the explanation?

  DR GÖRTLER: Yes. But do not believe it. We are not as simple as bicycles.

  [SAM enters.]

  SAM: Supper’s ready, Mr Farrant.

  [FARRANT moves and SAM holds door open for him.]

  FARRANT [to DR GÖRTLER as he goes]: You’ll join me in the dining-room, eh? [He goes.]

  SAM [heartily]: Now then, sir, you’re here, after all. And you’d like to see your room.

  DR GÖRTLER: Please.

  [SAM goes across for DR GÖRTLER’s bag, talking as he moves, takes bag and returns, moving towards door to bedrooms.]

  SAM: Ay, not five minutes after you’d gone, them three ladies rang up to say they couldn’t come, so we’d room after all for you. Just the one left.

  DR GÖRTLER: But the other two rooms?

  SAM: Oh – we got rid o’ them all right. There’s a Mr and Mrs Ormund coming tonight into them.

  DR GÖRTLER [triumphantly, with a touch of wonder, really to himself]: So! So! Ich bin glücklich.

  SAM [almost through door now, and climbing stairs]: What language is that, sir? German?

  DR GÖRTLER: Yes. It means ‘I am fortunate’.

  [They
go out and their voices die away. The stage is empty. The light begins to fade slowly, but there is a last glow in it. There is a pause of a moment or two, then DR GÖRTLER and SAM return.]

  DR GÖRTLER: You say that because you have been happy here?

  SAM: Yes, I can’t grumble at all. I’ve never made much out o’ this place, but I’ve had all I want. I’d ask for naught better – if I had my time over again.

  DR GÖRTLER [interested]: Do you often say that?

  SAM: Say what?

  DR GÖRTLER [slowly]: If you had your time over again.

  SAM [surprised]: Well – no – not specially. I mean to say – it’s just a way – like – o’ putting it. Everybody says it.

  [SALLY enters holding door from bar open behind her.]

  SALLY [not very cordially]: Your supper’s ready, Dr – er –

  DR GÖRTLER: Thank you. [Turning, rather mischievously, to SAM] My friend – perhaps you will have your time over again.

  SALLY [from passage outside]: In here, that’s right. And if you don’t find everything you want, just ring the bell. [She watches him go, then comes in, closing the door behind her.] If four of ’em’s going to sit in here, it wants changing round a bit.

  [SALLY is now busy, with some small assistance from SAM, slightly re-arranging the furniture of the room, changing the tablecloth on the centre table, and finally switching on the lights and drawing the curtains.]

  What was that Dr Görtler talking about?

  SAM: Nay, I just happened to say ‘If I’d my time over again’ you know how you do? – and he seemed right taken up with it. [Repeating it speculatively.] ‘If I’d my time over again.’ Nay it’s a common enough saying.

  SALLY [in a slow, grumbling tone, as she moves about]: Yes, it’s common enough. An’ it’s silly enough an’ all. A lot of use it is you or anybody else saying what they’d do if they had their time over again. A fat chance they have, haven’t they? Time moves on and it takes you with it, whatever you say – as I know only too well.

  SAM: Ay. Though it’s only same for you as for onnybody else, lass.

  SALLY: Well, I’m not so sure about that.

  SAM: We all go on getting older, Sally.

  SALLY: I didn’t mean just that. Y’know, father, it’s only four years since Bob and I were staying here with you over Whitsun. And Charlie was still a little lad. The three of us here … laughing and talking and going on day long … and nothing to tell us it was nearly all over …

  SAM [disturbed and affectionate]: Ay – I know – lass – but don’t think about it.

  SALLY: It’s not so long since, but time’s run on…. It’s taken Bob from me … even Charlie’s growing up and doesn’t need me like he used to…. I almost might be an old woman wondering where they’re going to bury me …

  SAM: Now then, Sally lass, it’s not so bad as it might be.

  SALLY: I might have thirty years to live yet – and I’d swop the lot for just that week we had here, four years ago…. But what’s the use?

  SAM: Ay – but give it a chance. You’ll forget.

  SALLY: I know I’ll forget. I’m forgetting now. I can’t hear Bob’s voice as plain as I could a year or two since. It’s taken even that from me now…. That’s what time does to you … and if it’s God’s idea, He’ll get no thanks from me…. [The curtains are drawn, and the lights are on now. She looks critically at the room.] Well, I don’t think I can do any better with it as it is. I’ve sometimes had an idea we might do better to bring the big table in and make this the dining-room – I mean, just for people who’s staying here. But it’s too far from the kitchen. [She is silent a moment, and then is heard the siren of a very large car.] It’ll be Mr and Mrs Ormund. Here, I must nip upstairs and see if their rooms look all right. Go and see to their luggage. [She hurries out.]

  [SAM goes to the outer door, leaving it open as he goes through. Voices are heard outside. A pause. Then JANET ORMUND enters slowly. She is an attractive sensitive woman about twenty-eight, and is dressed for the country in a simple but expensive style. She enters the room with a slow indifference, then suddenly stiffens, frowns, looks incredulous, then examines it eagerly, without much movement. It is clear that there is some recognition, mixed with incredulity. The clock chimes at her. A sudden uprush of emotion makes her feel almost faint, and she sinks into a chair, exhausted, breathing heavily.

  Now her husband, WALTER ORMUND, enters. He is a biggish man in his early forties, whose manner alternates between alert, sharp command, on the one hand, and a gloomy brooding, on the other. He is dressed in quiet tweeds, the kind a man might wear at an office before leaving for the country. He carries a much-used dispatch-case. He has no eyes for the room, only for his wife.]

  ORMUND: What’s the matter, Janet?

  JANET: I felt rather faint.

  [She takes charge of herself. He would like to help but doesn’t know how to, so remains large and helpless. She looks about her, then at him.]

  ORMUND: Probably tired.

  JANET: No…. I’m not … really. [Looks about her again, then at him.] I had – a sort of feeling – this room – [Gives it up.]

  ORMUND: We needn’t stay here, y’know.

  JANET: No.

  ORMUND: We can push on. There’s plenty of time.

  JANET: Yes, of course we can.

  ORMUND: I can simply say ‘Sorry, not our kind of place,’ give them something for their trouble, and off we go.

  JANET: Quite simple. And – I think – rather comforting.

  ORMUND [with a touch of burlesque]: You mean – one of us hasn’t been taken ill – the car hasn’t suddenly and mysteriously broken down – there isn’t a fog or a flood or a landslide – none of those sinister compulsory things –?

  JANET [with a smile]: No, not one. [Then with sudden seriousness] We’re quite free. We can choose. We’re not being compelled.

  ORMUND: Not in the least. We can go now. Just say the word.

  JANET: Why don’t you say it?

  ORMUND [marching to the door]: All right. I’ll say it. Let’s go.

  JANET [hesitates, then with a slight laugh]: No. We’ll stay.

  ORMUND [with a touch of bitterness]: Anything for a change, eh?

  JANET: Walter – is that one of the remarks you promised not to make?

  ORMUND [rueful]: Oh – I hope not.

  JANET: It sounded like the beginning of one. Remember – you promised. Play fair.

  ORMUND [who would like to play fair]: I’m trying, Janet. I’m trying hard. Only – I do seem to be in the one situation in the world where it’s impossible for a man to be fair. You’ve no idea what a devil of a job it is.

  JANET: I know, Walter.

  ORMUND [not sharply]: You don’t.

  JANET: No – that’s the trouble, I suppose – I don’t. [Looking at him with a touch of wistfulness and pity.] But – just to be easy and friendly – for once, no arguments, no reproaches – that’ll be something, won’t it?

  ORMUND: Yes, it’ll be – something.

  JANET [half-laughing, half-vexed]: Oh – Walter! The very way you said that –!

  ORMUND: No, no, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m really doing my best. You’re right. God knows you’re right. It’ll be something.

  JANET: I’ll do my very best.

  ORMUND: And I’ll do better still. You’ll see. Nice. Easy. Friendly. All according to plan.

  [He looks about him, whistling softly. She looks at him, and he breaks off and gives her a careful reassuring smile. She returns it, but nevertheless looks troubled. SALLY enters, with an obvious sense of the importance of the occasion.]

  SALLY [rather breathless]: Good evening, Mr and Mrs Ormund, isn’t it?

  JANET: Yes.

  SALLY: You did say you wanted both rooms, didn’t you?

  ORMUND [humorously]: Yes. I have to have a room to myself because sometimes I waken up in the middle of the night and begin scribbling figures on bits of paper – and then – I have to smoke. Yes, smoke. Are yo
u insured against fire?

  SALLY: Yes, we are that.

  ORMUND: It’s all right then. I shall smoke a lot – and burn holes in your best sheets.

  SALLY [entering into this]: I’ll make you pay for ’em if you do, Mr Ormund. [To both of them] I expect you’d like to see your rooms, wouldn’t you?

  ORMUND: You have a look at ’em, Janet. I must telephone to Sykes. [JANET and SALLY go out. ORMUND telephones.] Trunks…. Is that Trunks? … This is – Grindle Five. I want Brensham 67…. Yes, Brensham 67…. All right….

  [Waits, telephone to ear. SAM enters.]

  SAM: Your bags are upstairs, sir, and the car’s in the garage.

  ORMUND: Thanks. Bring me a large whisky-and-soda, will you. MacFarlane’s Old Liqueur, if you’ve got it. [Telephoning, as SAM goes out.] Hello, Brensham? Oh – that you, Sykes? Walter Ormund here. We’re fixed up in a little pub on the moors – the Black Bull, Grindle Moor. Phone number’s Grindle Five…. Yes, get me here any time – shan’t be going far…. Yes, will you work out the marketing costs, and I’ll do the rest…. I’ve got all the information here, including Orgenbaum’s report…. Who? Pensfield? … No, he won’t make any trouble. I’ll offer him a seat on the board. That’ll keep him quiet…. Not he! I know too much about him….

  [SAM comes in with large whisky and soda, and as he is passing, ORMUND reaches out and takes it, to SAM’s surprise, and has a long drink while still listening. SAM gives him a droll look and goes out.]

  Yes … nothing in that, Sykes…. Add two and a half per cent to the overhead then…. I’ll ring you up before Monday morning…. Well, work all night then – put a wet towel round your head and a bottle of whisky on your desk…. Nonsense! Holidays are for boys and girls, not men…. I know all about your children, but they can get on without you…. All right. I’m depending on you. ’Bye.

  [He puts down the telephone, takes his drink to the table, and pulling an old envelope out of his pocket, makes a few quick notes on it. Then he looks at what he has written, so absorbed that he does not notice the entrance of JANET, who comes in quietly. She watches him take an absent-minded pull at his drink.]

  JANET: You know, Walter, you’d several whiskies at that place where we had dinner.

  ORMUND: I know. And I’d several before that. And now I’m having another. And what I say is this. If the only way I can find dividends for several hundred shareholders and wages for several thousands of employees is by drinking several whiskies, then I must drink several whiskies.