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DARLINGHURST NIGHTS
By Katherine Thomson
Music by Max Lambert
Based on the book Darlinghurst Nights by Kenneth Slessor
The premier production of Darlinghurst Nights was at the Wharf Theatre of the Sydney Theatre Company on the 7th January, 1988. Production was by the Sydney Theatre Company in association with Andrew James. ORIGINAL CAST The Green Rolls Royce Woman Valerie Bader The Gunman's Girl Kaarin Fairfax The Girl from the Country Julie Hasler The Gunman Kerry McKay Joe David Sandford The Iceman David Whitney and Ken Ronald Falk Director - Terry O'Connel Musical Director - Max Lambert Dramaturg - May Brit Akerholt Set Designer - Jack Ritchie Costume Designer - Monita Roughsedge
CHARACTERS KEN is a man in his fifties, urbane, self-preserving. Journalist. JOE a newspaper cartoonist, charming and prone to drunken existential
ranges. MABEL a girl from the country. FRANK an Iceman. ROSE drives a Green Rolls Royce, enjoys cocaine. Where does she get
the money from? CORA the Gunman's Girl, with plans of her own. SPUD the Gunman, with even bigger plans. CORA also plays the waitress. SPUD also the manager of the Hampton Court Hotel FRANK also Rose's “Papa”. SET Need to suggest the higgledy-piggledy nature of inner-city dwellings, where voices can be heard across lanes and lightwells. It should also allow for the harbour to be present when required. The set needs to provide a dreamscape, a place for characters to appear and vanish. Most importantly Ken needs his “eyrie”, his window or balcony from which observes all of this happening. TIME Act On takes place in the days. Act Two takes place in the evenings.
ACT ONE Daytime ACT TWO Night Ken, in this music theatre piece, Darlinghurst Nights, is a fictitious character drawn from the qualities of the observer in the light verse of Kenneth Slessor's Darlinghurst Nights and the voice of the poet in “Five Bells” and other poems by Slessor. I have also used selected biographical details of Slessor, in particular the puzzling combination of bon vivant, energetic and productive young poet, and journalist who spent the greater part of his later years writing leaders for Sir Frank Packer at the Daily Telegraph. While Slessor published “Five Bells” when he was thirty-eight, I have chosen to use it as a poem written by a man later in his life. The character of Joe is based in part on black and white artist Joe Lynch as described in reports by fellow Smith's Weekly artists and journalists following his disappearance one night into Sydney Harbour, from a number of unpublished manuscripts in which Joe Lynch is mentioned, and, of course, from Slessor's evocation of “Joe” in “Five Bells”. The light verses that we have adapted as lyrics were all originally published in Smith's Weekly. Katherine Thomson
1
ARABIAN FAIRYTALE
There is a fairy-tale that says: A man dips his head in magic water And in that moment He dreams he sails the seven seas, Is captured by pirates, Discovers a diamond as big as an ostrich egg, Marries a princess, Fights many battles and is killed. After he lives this whole lifetime he opens his eyes, Shakes his head and finds himself With laughing people and everything exactly as it was...
2
KEN* For thirty years the Harbour has never been very far from my window. Thirty years of Elizabeth Bay, Kings Cross, Darlinghurst; to have it all...some of it...any of it... again. Meanwhile, fidget-wheel time silently counts me towards - nothingness. But always the harbour. There is a second type of time - memory time - that’s the one to grasp, to hold down. Yet another evening spent fiddling with what just might.... become... a poem... Five Bells.
Time that is moved by little fidget wheels Is not my Time, the flood that does not flow Between the double and the single bell Of a ship’s hour, between a round of bells From the dark warship riding there below, I have lived many lives, and this one life Of Joe, long dead -
KEN
Why do I think of you? I haven’t thought of you for - Joe, was, I suppose, the first of us to demonstrate that it was possible to disappear without a trace. Except for his journal. Many years ago, one night, he sat on the lower deck of a ferry, there were fellow newspaper cartoonists, journalists, Joe wearing his ancient tattered raincoat. Heavily laden, as was his custom, with bottled beer - DA - crammed into his pockets. There was the usual jollity until someone noticed that Joe had disappeared. Missing, presumed drowned.(KEN OPENS A PAGE OF THE JOURNAL)A sawn-off lock, some sketches...
3
KEN (cont.) ... very few entries. “Thus let me live,unseen, unknown / Thus unlamented let me die / Steal from the world and not a stone / Tell where I lie.” Scrawled below, “Pope could be a stupid bastard sometimes. I demand to be remembered...”
Why do I think of you, dead man, You have gone from earth, Gone even from the meaning of a name; Yet something’s there, yet something forms its lips And hits and cries against the ports of space, Beating their sides to make its fury heard.
JOE
(DIMLY LIT, PUTTING BEER BOTTLES INTO HIS POCKET) I demand to be remembered for something! Highly unlikely, perhaps a piece of my hair in someone’s locket if I’m lucky...Ken!
KEN
Are you shouting at me, dead man? ...Cry louder, beat the windows, bawl your name! But I hear nothing, nothing...only bells, Five bells, the bumpkin calculus of Time.
JOE
Ken, Ken.
4
KEN Then I heard the thunder tumble.
JOE
Ken, it’s me, Joe.
A STORM DEVELOPS THROUGH THE SCENE. KEN
Good God.
JOE Come to a party. Half a dozen DA.
KEN
It’s late. Go home.
JOE I can’t sleep. People I haven’t seen for years come visiting, I wake up in a panic.
KEN*
Go home. Wait. - You were right back then. I - do sometimes think my life should have been something else. Full-time newspaperman and part-time poet. Now, I’m reduced to slipping in editorials about the onset of autumn.
JOE
You at your window.
KEN Oh, yes. Giving half-life to other people from five floors up. Gathering and hoarding details, writing poems people have forgotten.
5
JOE In which you captured a time. Our Kings Cross, our Darlinghurst.
KEN
Well, yes. That’s what I was trying to do.
JOE Our time.
KEN You had your pockets full of beer, sitting on a rail, why didn’t you hold on?
JOE Not always possible. (PAUSE) Come on. Alphabet letters and arrows of fire...
KEN Drawn to Darlinghurst by the lights ...It wasn’t only the place, but ourselves in it. Ourselves here.
JOE For a time yes. For a time.
KEN I can’t hear you. What did you say?
JOE Come on, come to the party.
6
KEN You wouldn’t know the place... Most of the people have disappeared.
MUSIC. THE PEOPLE BEGIN TO APPEAR BEHIND THE SCRIM, CONJURED BY JOE. THE STORM IS OVER.
JOE
Mabel from the country, with lips as fresh as berries, Eyes that stare without a care, and cheeks like cherries...
KEN
The gunman’s girl wears mother of pearl, And a diamond (the latest fashion).... But bruises and bangles are mixed in tangles When a gunman bends to passion.
JOE Where the landlord says with passion The locality is choice, Like an archduke in the gutter, Goes the Green Rolls Royce.
KEN
...Once there was an Iceman
JOE took us all by storm,
KEN His ice was cold,
JOE but his heart was warm...
ALL There’s a golden hocus-pocus Where the buried people eat For the air is full of crocus Blowing down to William Street.
MABEL I just sort of got off the train, and I could see it all sort of golden on the hill...
7
MABEL
...and I just sort of got on a tram, and it was the right one...
ROSE People in the suburbs - “How sad, no garden.” My dears, never you mind, I garden every day. (RINGS A SHOP BELL) Oh. Oh. What on earth do you people do to your flowers? Poppies the size of plates. A dozen or I’ll die. Would you pop them in the Rolls.
CORA (AS IF TALKING TO REPORTERS) Right, now yez all let me know if I’m talking too fast. Oh...shorthand... Right. Well, it’s real nice to have Spud back from the clink, and it’s the straight and narrow for us from now on. Might open up a little business, something respectable. So long as the big droobs and flat feet keep off his back that is.
8
SPUD Yeah we got plans, that’s all I can say at the moment. Yez’ll all soon hear about it.
CHORUS Oh behold the Roman candles Of the window boxes burst As the fairies tap their sandals On the Alps of Darlinghurst.
ROSE A divine morning. Divine. And what a wonderful night at Romano’s except I simply cannot sit next to that boxer again. Have you seen the way he eats? And the drac you were lumbered with -
wasn’t she dead.
9
ROSE Probably had to throw confetti at her own wedding.
MABEL People in their dressing gowns, sort of, just sort of going out to buy the paper.
FRANK It’s the landlords. “I can’t help it if your husband’s work’s been cut,” this bloke says to this poor bloody woman the other day. She’s got some eggs on the table. “You’ve got enough money for eggs, where’d you get those?” Real sweet. “These eggs came out of a chook’s arsehole. Or don’t they have any chooks in Rose Bloody Bay? Well, never mind darling because they’ve certainly got some arseholes.” (MABEL WALKS BY) Oh, excuse me love. Eh, she wouldn’t have heard that, would she? (KNOCKS ON A “DOOR”) Iceman. Ice-oh!
WOMEN Where the stars are lit by Neon,
And the fried potato fumes
10
WOMEN And the ghost of Mr Villon Still inhabits single rooms.
CORA (IN THEIR “FLAT”) A what?
SPUD A nightclub. You and me are opening a nightclub.
CORA No. A corner shop. That’s what you said, a corner shop.
SPUD Not a usual sort of nightclub, a beauty. Something suave, for the toffs. People’ll be fighting to get in it. Or on it. Whatever. The biggest nightclub in Sydney. Well that’s nothing - it’s going to be floating all around in the harbour. Great sort of raft sort of raft sort of set-up. We’re going to put Sydney on the map. Sly grog market’s wide open at the moment, but we’ve got to be quick off the mark. Well, pick your chin up off the floor. I don’t know about you, I’m doing the Cross, I’ve had enough time inside last me a lifetime. Come on.
11
MEN
And the girls lean out from heaven Over lightwells thumping mops. While the gent in 57 Cooks his pound of mutton chops.
MABEL And four people in their evening wear. Would they be just coming home?
JOE Ken. Isn’t it comforting? No matter what, the rich get richer. “The wealthy curled darlings of our nation.”
THE OTHERS, EXCEPT FOR CORA, BECOME THE LORDS AND THE LADIES.
SPUD, FRANK, CORA, ROSE The lords and the ladies, the beautiful ladies, The lords and the ladies are noble to see, In sables and satins they tinkle Manhattans Or dabble their diamonds in butter and tea.
JOE ...dabble their diamonds in butter and tea.
CHORUS
Do you mind. Is he drunk? Friend of yours? The music is always by Tosti, Delightfully wicked and gay; Each waiter that passes has 500 glasses, All pink, green and frosty, That shine on his tray.
KEN, JOE, SPUD, FRANK, MABEL, CORA, ROSE The lords have a habit of lying, The archdukes are out of a job. The Dresden princesses have dirt on their dresses And Sir Cuthbert is dying to borrow two bob.
FRANK Iceman! Ice!-oh!
12
VOICE/(ROSE) No love, save your breath, they got themselves a Kelvinator.
SPUD Gawd, keep walking straight - someone I owe money to.
CORA From Long Bay? I thought you kept your head down.
SPUD Unless you want to part with yours keep walking straight.(HE PULLS CORA ALONG)
MABEL KNOCKS ON A DOOR, STEPS BACK, LOOKS UP. CATCHES THE ICEMAN’S EYE.
MABEL Looking for a vacant room.
FRANK A lot of gents only round here, try further down.
MABEL Ta.
COMPANY With a tea-cup full of water And a proud progressive eye, You can see the landlord’s daughter Damping gardens in the sky,
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COMPANY
There’s a garden hocus-pocus Where the buried people eat For the air is full of crocus Blowing down to William Street.
14
THE OTHERS FADE. FIVE BELLS MUSIC. JOE ESTABLISHES A TRAM, KEN JOINS HIM.
JOE Fares. Rose Bay via Kings Cross. Fares.
KEN They could never go fast enough for you. “Bloody trams.” You’d look up the hill - (JOE DOES SO)
JOE AND KEN I could walk faster than this.
JOE PREPARES TO LEAP OFF THE TRAM.
KEN Were you beginning to give me clues, is this what all this was?
JOE “In skating over thin ice, our safety is in speed.” (HE LEAPS OFF)
KEN Wait! KEN RINGS THE BELL AND THE TRAM SLOWS, STOPS, KEN STEPS OFF. JOINS JOE.
15
JOE William Street...
KEN Smells, rich and rasping. Even early in the morning - smoke and fat and fish.
JOE Early opener?
KEN How could we have been up all night? My mouth ceased to function, somewhere between Plato and Paradise Lost.
JOE In this pub here - a heart starter?
KEN No. I do have to go to work.
JOE No you don’t. Now, once a year - in this pub here - bet no one’s ever told you this - they commemorate a very savage razor gang brawl. The barmaids come out from behind the bar and solemnly throw grapes, representing eyeballs, to the floor. Whole place stops.
KEN How do you know these things?
16
JOE And of course it was just near here, (HE CHECKS) yes, just here when I was walking home, I saw a chap standing stock still - have I never told you this? Anyway he had little fine red lines across his white shirt - like this, very fine - like he was waiting for something. A few seconds later, his guts spilled out.
CORA HAS BEEN LISTENING TO SOME OF THE ABOVE.
CORA Bullshit you saw that Joe Lynch. (to KEN) Excuse the language. I’m the one saw that happen. All those little red lines, like the Northern Rivers river system we used to have to draw in school. If you drew them in red. Which not many kids do I s’pose. Anyway. (TO KEN) Gidday. (JOE) Happened years before your time - and it’s my story. I told him that. (TO KEN) Hello.
JOE (COMMENCES INTRODUCTIONS) Ah. Miss -
CORA Mrs.
JOE Ah. Mrs...
CORA Cora.
17
KEN Kenneth.
CORA He partial to stretching the truth?
KEN Yes...
I keep telling him, it’ll drop off if you fib....
KEN Good advice.
CORA
(to JOE) So don’t tell me your office story was a porker, too? Oh, wasn’t that true that story you used to tell about your newspaper? Every morning, he reckons, the first thing he does is walk up to his boss’s office, close his eyes, push open the door and yell -
JOE I yank open the door and yell, “You stupid bastard, what makes you think you can run a newspaper?” Then I shut the door. Haven’t found him there, yet. Intoxicating.
KEN Yes. Yes. Yes. I’m a witness.
CORA I love that.
SPUD Take your time, I love waiting.
CORA Tie a knot in it! (to KEN and Joe) How rude can you get? Gawd, if he leaned out any further he might fall out. He’s got muggins me doing the sly grog joints. (THE PRAM) He reckons the coppers’ll never catch on. First bloody place they’ll look.
JOE How much?
18
CORA Three bob.
JOE Oh. Crikey!
CORA Sorry, he’s charging like blazes.
JOE (TO KEN) Loan us three bob.
KEN No. No. No.
JOE Tightest bastard I know.
CORA Oh right. You’re the poet.
KEN Journalist.
SPUD Pick your feet up, sweetheart.
CORA Drop dead, though I suppose that’d make my life too flaming easy.
19
UNDERSCORING BEGINS.
CORA (cont.) Eh, I’m off the bash but. Now he’s home. That’s something. Going straight’s just around the corner.
JOE You’re a born model. I told you...
CORA Look after yourself. (SHE GOES, WHEELING HER PRAM) Kenneth.
KEN I won’t ask.
JOE I used to sketch her. She’d move, you see. Magic. Most disarming. Ah, there it goes - blimblimblimblimblimblim...
KEN Top o’ the Cross. Glimpses of the pulsating arrow, advertising what?
JOE One bulb, then another, another, another -
KEN The quick flash of the entire arrow -
JOE AND KEN (LOOKING AT ARROW) Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.
20
SPUD Did you get the money?
CORA Yes.
SPUD You got the money.
CORA Yes.
SPUD
They paid three bob a bottle no questions asked.
CORA Yes yes yes. (HANGS OUT THE WINDOW. SEES KEN) Oh you’re still here.
KEN Seems that way.
SPUD (to CORA) Well show it to me, Jesus. A man shouldn’t have to ask.
CORA
(to KEN) Nothin’ worse than livin’ with a broken record. Ever wonder you made a really bad mistake.... (SPUD APPEARS NEXT TO HER. SHE LOOKS AT HIM) Wonderful gift, a sense of humour.
KEN LOOKS FOR JOE, HE’S GONE.
21
THE GUNMAN’S GIRL
KEN The gunman’s girl wears mother of pearl
KEN, CORA And dreams of French perfume; With a face like stone she walks alone In a land where the Snowdrops bloom.
KEN, CORA, SPUD There’s a kiss of a knife on her neck for life, And a diamond, (the latest fashion). For bruises and bangles are mixed in tangles When a gunman bends to passion. And, O, beware when she takes the air, Take care in the streets at night, Cross over and hide on the opposite side To Dangerous Dan’s delight - So give her a cautious peep my lad, From the edge of a hang-dog eye When a Smith & Wesson delicatessen Gunman’s Girl goes by!
KEN, CORA O, what are they at the gunman’s flat? My friend you are quite mistaken. One peep behind, and you’ll probably find
22
KEN/CORA
She’s cooking him eggs and bacon. Professional hours in bad men’s bowers Are all very well for rookery, But a gunman’s wife in private life Is more concerned with cookery.
KEN, CORA, SPUD And, O, beware when she takes the air, And take care in the streets at night- She’s wheeling a pram with a pound of ham For a bad man’s appetite She’s carrying butter and eggs my lad, There’s bacon at home to fry. When the Smith & Wesson delicatessen Gunman’s Girl goes by!
23
SPUD Sweetheart...
CORA Yes.
SPUD Sweetheart. I need you to go back on the game for a while. (SHE SITS UP, HE HOLDS HER ANKLES) I asked nicely.
CORA No. You promised....
SPUD A debt’s a debt. I pay it back we got a brand new start.
CORA No. No. Let go.
SPUD For me, honey. For me.
CORA No. No. God, if only someone’d learnt me typing. Cripes, my mother’s...
SPUD Shut up about your mother.
CORA ...my mother’s about to kick the bucket from this business. Barely got off her back to breathe, look up, see the world and it’s all over. No. Let go.
SPUD Don’t think I don’t know you got some dough stashed. Eh? What’ve you got dough stashed for?
CORA Don’t be stupid. (PAUSE) A couple of weeks ago we’re flush enough to open a nightclub -
24
SPUD I’d hate to be anywhere near me when I found it. I don’t reckon I could stop myself giving you a hiding that’d send you halfway to China.
CORA
I haven’t got a zac. HE DOES. SHE QUICKLY PUTS ON HER STOCKINGS.
SPUD Then yer’ll keep delivering drain. Or don’t you think we gotta live. You can work on your back, or we move sly grog. (SHE PREPARES TO TAKE THE PRAM, WHICH RATTLES WITH BOTTLES) And have a good think about who keeps who.
CORA Who?
FRANK AND MABEL TURN A CORNER. HE’S CARRYING HER SUITCASE. THEY WALK QUICKLY.
MABEL Whee! Free!
KEN Sounds from the footpath - a girl whistling up to cages of canaries hanging on the balconies. She refused to leave until they whistled back. She could have been there for hours.
25
MABEL That was lucky! That you -
FRANK No worries.
MABEL She went wild, but I’m not paying a week’s rent when I’ve only been there three days. That was really nice of you. My name’s Mabel.
FRANK Frank. We’ll find you somewhere else.
MABEL That landlady, she kept saying I looked like her dead granddaughter - she’d burst into tears every time I stepped out of the bathroom. And I thought the soup tasted awful, one of the others said she made it out of cardboard. Someone saw her tearing up a cornflakes pack. Ah well, she says, and keeps on tearing. Nothing wrong with a bit of roughage. Cardboard. And the police came one night - there must have been some bad types there.
FRANK You’re not on the run?
MABEL Eh? No.
26
FRANK I’ve got all sorts living in my joint. Actors, writers living there, everything.
MABEL Really?
FRANK Yes. Wouldn’t credit it. They’re as good as gold, don’t hurt anyone. Comic duo across the hall. Funniest thing they ever do is lay off the booze. (PAUSE) Somewhere nice. Hope you’re not looking for a job as well.
MABEL I’ve got one. I start tomorrow afternoon. I’m just getting my bearings. Eating into my bit of savings at the moment. At the Hampton Court Hotel.
FRANK Go on!
MABEL It was arranged for me. It’s not a flash job, not big money, so I just need somewhere cheap.
FRANK How about ten shillings with a gas ring and a weekly sheet change, top to bottom?
MABEL Yes please!
FRANK Quite a few up this way recently fumigated too which is always handy. (PAUSE) I saw you yesterday. You were standing on the other side of the road, whistling up at those cages of canaries on those balconies. I watched you for ages.
27
UNDERSCORING BEGINS.
MABEL I didn’t see anyone around.
FRANK We’ll try around here. (LOOKS AT HER) I’m from the bush, too.
MABEL Reckoned so.
FRANK Missed it so much last year I got my dog sent down for a holiday. Just a short holiday. Property just outside Balranald. Bit too parched for the both of us - not the dog - me brother, he’s still up there. And yourself?
MABEL Don’t I look like I’ve been here all my life?
FRANK No.
MABEL Oh. Oh well. (LOOKS UP) That’s where I see myself.
28
FRANK Yeah, well. I reckon you better start seeing yourself down here. You go in on your own. Wouldn’t want them to think...something funny was going on. I’ll wait.
MABEL PICKS UP HER CASE AND APPROACHES THE RESIDENTIAL.
29
RESIDENTIAL
FRANK
Mabel from the country With lips as fresh as berries, Eyes that stare without a care, And cheeks like cherries.
AND MABEL Up and down the terrace Innocently flitting, Trying scores of funny doors To find a “bed and sitting”.
FRANK AND MABEL Such a nice lady beckons from the landing - Rather quaint, and caked with paint But full of understanding.
ROSE “Down from Molong sweetheart?” Her voice is calculating. “Board and bed, I think you said? Yes dear would you mind waiting?”
KEN A gilt and pimply mirror Flaps with a distant glitter. Somewhere far off there sounds a cough, And somewhere close a titter.
30
MABEL EMERGES FROM THE RESIDENTIAL, WITHOUT HER CASE.
MABEL Well, I reckon the walls might be made of cardboard...but... I s’pose as long as she doesn’t cook them...
FRANK You want to let them know, at home, where you are, now you’ve got somewhere. It’s not knowing get’s people worried.
MABEL Oh, they know. (PAUSE) Ta.
UNDERSCORING STOPS
MABEL (cont.) I might get a cup of tea. I missed out on breakfast.
FRANK What if I met you here, in about an hour. To show you around.
MABEL I nearly went in there yesterday. I couldn’t pluck up the courage, it’s sort of dark isn’t it?
THE OTHERS BEGIN TO ESTABLISH THE COFFEE SHOP.
31
FRANK Arabian. Place to go. (HE GOES TO LEAVE) Oh, look - I can’t afford to pick up the bill, in case yer thought ...when I come back...
MABEL Oh, that’s -
FRANK Just thought I’d tell you so you wouldn’t order up big.
MUSIC.
MABEL Dear Annie, I’m actually sitting in a coffee shop, like something in a book. The waitress is a really famous artist’s model. I think she practises standing still at work.
WAITRESS/CORA (STONY-FACED) Yes. Arabian, Moroccan or a blend.
MABEL Um.
32
WAITRESS/CORA Coffee.
MABEL May I please have a cup of tea.
WAITRESS/CORA Pot of scald. Bushells?
MABEL Oh, what other kinds are there?
WAITRESS/CORA Bushells. Biscuits, or roll and butter.
MABEL Oh. Oh. Is that...is that - tea AND biscuits?
WAITRESS/CORA Well, I could always wait and bring them later.
MABEL Is it...
WAITRESS/CORA Tuppence extra.
MABEL (FUMBLING FOR HER PURSE) I think, just the scald.
33
*WAITRESS/CORA Pay the boss on your way out. The big Russian dyke down the back.
MABEL Lovely, thank you very much.
WAITRESS/CORA Lovely.
MABEL And at another table, someone’s reciting poems.
JOE (PLUMMY ACTOR’S VOICE) Full fathom five they father lies / Of his bones are coral made / Those are pearls that were his eyes Nothing of him doth fade.
34
KEN WALKS THROUGH, MAKING HIS WAY TO JOE.
MABEL Whatever you do, Annie, you mustn’t show this letter to dad. I don’t want him coming down. You know what he’s like when he gets his goat. Tell him I’m safe and, if he asks where I live just say I’ve taken a room in Darlinghurst. (SHE CROSSES IT OUT) Kings Cross. Please don’t think me terrible for leaving. The farm and the kids were driving me mad, and they’re nearly old enough to look after themselves. I’ll be able to send you some money soon; tell them to remember...
KEN WATCHES JOE IN THE CAFE. HE SKETCHES, IS UPSET, RIPS UP A PAGE. HEADS TURN, THEN BACK TO THEIR CONVERSATIONS. FIVE BELLS MUSIC.
KEN The memory of some bones Long shoved away and sucked away in mud ...And unimportant things you might have done Or once I thought you did but you forgot.
JOE (TEARING UP A SKETCH) That’s me finished. Can’t draw from life. That’s what comes of churning out cartoons for the capitalists. But note, I don’t mind, I don’t mind. I have abandoned my quest for immortality. (HE GRABS KEN’S NOTEBOOK) “Darlinghurst Nights and Morning Glories, Being 47 strange sights Observed from eleventh storeys, In a land of cream-puff and crime, by a flat-roof professor, here set forth in sketch and rhyme.” My friend here arranges words like diamonds, he could be a great poet, but is-this-the-country for all that?
KEN Thank you. Come on.
JOE
35
Instead, he squanders his talent on a newspaper.
KEN Please.
JOE You dream of being a great poet, admit it. He actually writes poems about Sydney.
KEN Come on, please. I’ll buy you a beer.
JOE Good god. But the tragedy is, this is not a country for dreamers.
KEN Look at yourself - you’re at the top of your profession -
JOE Listen, Don’t dream too hard, Ken. Lawson ended his days cadging shillings with a smile. Tell me what Kingsford-Smith does on weekends. Takes Mr and Mrs Dulwich Hill and all the little Dulwiches up on joy flights - to raise enough money for
36
JOE
(cont’d) the next Australian flight. Ninety hours over the Pacific joy flights. Someone forgot to tell them, keep dreaming down.
KEN Anything else you’d like to get off your chest?
JOE Thank you, I’ve had sufficient. (PAUSE) You’re the only one who listens, you know. Always...
UNDERSCORING BEGINS.
JOE Here she comes. The woman with the green Rolls Royce. I found out about her. I’ve been watching her very closely.
KEN You’re too late. She’s desperately in love with me, daily tries to press her fortune onto me. Didn’t like to tell you. My morality is in great danger of flagging.
JOE No, you’ve got it all wrong. Rumour has it she’s a member of the Royal Family, gathering numbers to stage a coup.
MUSIC. ROSE GETS INTO HER “CAR”.
37
THE GREEN ROLLS ROYCE
ROSE Where the black Marias clatter, And peculiar ladies nod, And the flats are rather flatter, And the lodgers rather odd, Where the night is full of dangers And the darkness full of fear, And eleven hundred strangers live on aspirin and beer, Where the gas-lights flare and flutter And the phonographs rejoice
ROSE
In a condescending fashion Goes the green Rolls Royce
38
ROSE If you care to do some prying, And you want to get some thrills, You can hear a lady sighing To a pocketful of bills: “Here’s the rent day getting closer, I can’t bear things as they are, You will have to pay the grocer Or I’ll have to sell the car.”
ROSE
But no sooner has she said it In a melancholy voice, Than she goes and gets some credit With the green Rolls Royce.
39
MUSIC. JOE IS WALKING OR LOOKING AT THE HARBOUR. HE HEARS, THEN SEES:
ROSE Happy birthday to you Happy birthday to you Happy birthday dear - happy birthday, Happy birthday to you.
JOE Happy birthday.
ROSE What? Oh. Oh. Not mine. Ha! Not mine. Thank heaven for small mercies. You can join the party though, whoever you are.
JOE Thank you. So who’s - (SHE PASSES JOE THE BOTTLE) - the special person? Moet at midday. Nearly midday. Salut. (HE SWIGS)
ROSE A young lady turns twenty-one - my daughter...did I say that? - my niece ...just about now. Twenty-catches in my throat-one. I do this every year. One for me and one for her. (ROSE POURS SOME CHAMPAGNE INTO THE HARBOUR) It’s expected of me. If I reneged a king-tide would rise up and snaffle me away. So a bottle or two...
40
JOE Yes. Yes. I understand. There’s something unique about...I always enjoy...relieving myself into... (INDICATES THE HARBOUR) Returning one’s water to the source.
ROSE Breathtaking conversation.
JOE You’re close to his young lady?
ROSE Oh yes. Although I haven’t seen her since she was a little, little, little baby. Now she’s miles and miles away. Hunters Hill, I believe, Hunnnters Hill.
JOE That isn’t miles and miles. There’ll be a party.
ROSE Bound to be. Toytown socialites can’t help themselves. (SWIGS) Twenty-one. The very interesting thing is - whoops whoops, I’ll hust gather up all my secrets - slipping out to have a (OVER)
41
ROSE (CONT’D) paddle - back you come! (SMILES AT JOE. TASTES THE CHAMPAGNE) Champagne francois. Like drinking wishes, isn’t it?
JOE Yes.
ROSE (SIPS) Courage. (SIPS) Growing younger. (SIPS) That this charming young man might have dishonourable intentions. (PASSES BOTTLE) I do have a lovely secret. Once I swore never to tell. But perhaps this is the day. wouldn’t you love to hear a juicy little secret? You could sell it to Truth newspaper: “Judge’s sullied past.” The name of this young lady’s father -
JOE No. Don’t tell me. Don’t.
ROSE (LOOKING ABOUT HER) The Rolls is a marvellous machine. Do you know, I only had to ask for it twice, and...I can just go. Zoom. Zoom.
JOE Where do you go in it? (HANDS HER THE BOTTLE)
42
ROSE Nowhere! (PASSES IT BACK) No, the last few wishes are yours. (PAUSE) I have a very nice apartment. With a view. I don’t normally have visitors. (PAUSE) On the way home we could get some cocaine from the herbalist. Oh, did I say that?! There are no prizes for missing out on a good time.
JOE Thank you very much, I’ve had a very fine time - thank you. I must decline. May I walk you to your car?
ROSE (COLLECTING HERSELF) Well, I’ll tell you something - people can sermonize their balls off. I speak as I please, but no one ever asks where you got the money you put on the collection plate. (SMILES) That probably isn’t what I meant to say. (SHE LEAVES)
UNDERSCORING BEGINS. THE HAMPTON COURT HOTEL.
KEN Mid afternoon. The golden hair of an actress, draped out of a window to dry. (JOE JOINS HIM)
43
JOE And have you heard about Driff? He’s moved into a pub, every Sunday he hails a taxi in Macleay Street, puts his cockatoo in the front seat, and tells the driver to take it for a circuit of Centennial Park - “Does him good to get out and see the world.”
SPUD
What are you gawking at?
CORA Just those two girls. They’re fashion models.
SPUD Trust you to know.
CORA Well...I do. Every afternoon, they take-afternoon-tea at the Hampton Court Hotel.
SPUD That whole bloody place is a take. Snobbiest place on earth that joint.
CORA I might just take myself in there (HE LOOKS AT HER) - one day. Don’t they walk nice, those girls....
VOICE Good afternoon, Hampton Court Hotel. One moment please. Putting you through, sir. Good afternoon, Hampton Court. Hold the line, please.
MABEL Yes please. The Hotel Manager’s expecting me.
VOICE Good afternoon, Hampton Court Hotel.
44
HOTEL MANAGER
Young lady -
MABEL Yes.
HOTEL MANAGER I understand you wish to see Mr de Vere.
MABEL Yes, please.
HOTEL MANAGER I’m not sure he can place the name.
MABEL Oh, dear. Just say Mabel that he met in Molong. The one um...
HOTEL MANAGER And has he arranged this position for you?
MABEL Yes, that’s right. We thought the kitchen or um housemaid I’d be quite good at. Or anything really. He thought -
45
ROSE SWANS THROUGH THE HOTEL.
ROSE (PEELS OFF HER GLOVES AND MAKES HER BIG DECISION FOR THE DAY) Afternoon tea or... (LOOKS AT HER WATCH) Oh. That late? Ah... (TO A WAITER) Table for - Ah, I think...the cocktail bar. Just for a change.
MABEL Beg your pardon?
HOTEL MANAGER Young lady, if you really have recently arrived, I suggest you return. You have no employment?
MABEL Yes, here. If I could hust see Mr de-
HOTEL MANAGER If I could just see Mr de Vere the police would not be very far behind. And residents of this hotel, the owners of vaarious watches, wallets, wirelesses - shaving kits - would no doubt fancy siing him behind the grille of a Black Maria. A con-man do
HOTEL MANAGER (cont.) you see. Now, I wouldn’t like to think you were an accomplice...
MABEL I’m not.
HOTEL MANAGER I strongly recommend you return to -
MABEL Molong.
HOTEL MANAGER Yes. We have our full complement of staff, and these are very difficult times. Now, I shall have to ask you to leave the premises. You have your train fare back to the country?
46
MABEL (NOW DOWN BY THE HARBOUR, THROWING STONES) And I’m not spending it on a ticket.
SPUD It’s foolproof.
CORA Listen to what you’re saying. What happened to going straight?
SPUD And a pleasant place to work, the Domain Baths. These blokes wander over from Macquarie Street, they don’t trust the dressing rooms when they pop over for a dip. You see ‘em swimming up and down, head out of the water, checking on their little bundle. We’re selective: quality suits. I dive in, strike up a nice little conversation, my usual cheery self... (CORA IS BY NOW HANGING LIMP OUT OF A WINDOW OR EQUIVALENT) and you all togged up in your bathers, perch yourself next to his very nice bag o’fruit, and drape a towel over it and then say something like, “Perhaps I should put my husband’s things with my own...” Then you clear off. It’s a whole new area - second hand suits. Easy money. That’s the ticket.
CORA Oh, sure. About as easy as winning Tatts!
47
TICKET IN TATTS!
CORA Ride a blue cab to the top of Kings Cross, Don’t mind the money, don’t think of the loss...
CORA, MABEL, ROSE ...Buy a few diamonds and price a few hats, Flaunt a few furs and inspect a few flats. No more economy, here’s to gastronomy These girls dream on, WITH A TICKET IN TATTS!
MABEL I’d like to buy some singing birds, And strings of golden jade,
ROSE And floppy books with tender words in sentimental suede,
CORA I’d like to buy some roller skates, I’d like to buy some cartridges,
ROSE And piles of willow-pattern plates, And half a dozen partridges.
MABEL I would give my cousin Gerald a subscription to “The Herald”
48
CORA Or a model of a schooner,
ROSE Or a little thing by Gruner
CORA And a step-sister at Pymble an electro-plated thimble
ALL And devoted Great-Aunt Dinah, doing uplift work in China, I’d remember with some kisses and a pot of black Narcissus Or a bangle or a ribbon, or the works of Edward Gibbon. Farewell finances that wrinkle the brow, Goodbye to trams we use Cadillacs now, Hickory-Dickory Gas-rings and chicory, Watch us drink nothing but Moet - and how! Bring out your truffles we’ll dine upon venison, Hobnob with Dames as we yacht past Fort Denison. Flirt with Sir Whatnot in ten guinea hats, Fox-trot with no one who doesn’t wear spats.
ROSE In a kind of paralysis
MABEL, CORA Picturing palaces,
ALL These girls dream on, WITH A TICKET IN TATTS!
49
LIGHTING CHANGE.
JOE (OFF) Quack. Quack.
KEN Come on up.
JOE Would you like to know how the Borgias cooked duck?
KEN No.
JOE Found by Adam in an ancient Latin cookbook. Take a duckling, tie it by either foot to a stake circled by bundles of dry sticks. Put beside the creature a basin of cold water. When the sticks are set ablaze, the heat causes the duck to sip water, thereby keeping it’s flesh tender while it roasts to death. Quack quack. Give me a quack and I’ll buy you a beer. (PAUSE) Very easy. Come on you bastard.
KEN Quack.
JOE Eh?
KEN Quack.
50
PUB IS ESTABLISHED. FIVE BELLS THEME.
JOE Five beers down here. Oi. Oi mate. Are you deliberately ignoring me?
KEN
...And unimportant things you might have done, Or once I thought you did but you forgot... ...Looks and words, And slops of beer; your coat with buttons off, Your gaunt chin and pricked eye, and raging tales Of Irish kings and English perfidy, And dirtier perfidy of publicans Groaning to God from Darlinghurst.
JOE That publican’s a bastard. English, of course.
KEN Don’t start. Don’t start.
JOE Bloody English. (TO KEN) You don’t know what it’s like.
KEN To be Irish. To thrive on suffering.
JOE No! To truly belong to a place - and to be - dispossessed. My grandmother-
KEN God, not your grandmother again / Someone get him another beer -
51
JOE Never ever forgot the day her face was slashed on the end of a British bayonet -
KEN Forced out of mother Ireland / Alright -
JOE
But she stood and let the blood drip into the soil so that the land knew, so that the grey ghosts of kings knew, why she had to pack up her family and come to the other side of the world. You rotten bastard, you’ve drunk the same amount as I and you’re not even drunk. Same again. (TO KEN) Undo. Undo. Loosen your bubbles. (SPUD BEGINS TO APPROACH KEN, JOE CALLS TO KEN AS HE LEAVES THE SCENE...) Tell me where we are in this place! The tide spills over us...
52
SPUD Good evening mate, friend of mine’s just laid his hands on some real good suits - bit of sale going on down the road, after closing. Interested, I can put you straight.
KEN Look, I’m not, I’m not. But hang on a tick. Joe! Where is he? My mate’s very hard to fit.
SPUD Probably got just the thing.
KEN Oh, good. He’s a plain clothes copper, the stuff they’re issued with is rubbish. Hang on, I’ll point him out.
SPUD Oh, right. I’ve got a beer coming somewhere, I’ll get back to you.
FRANK What time is it mate?
SPUD Ah, close to six. Two more / thanks mate.
FRANK Eh mate, a schooner / down here.
JOE Down here. Can’t be far off. - Give us...Nah, mate, your clock’s fast. It’s -
FRANK Six o’clock?
SPUD Can’t be six!
KEN Dead on six. To the cuckoo.
53
KEN, JOE, FRANK, SPUD Delightful visitant with thee We’d hail the time of flowers. Could you but tell us of a pub Where they sell grog after hours. Sweet bird thy bower is ever green, The sky is always clear, Thou hast no sorrow in they song, Thou art not fond of beer. Oh, could I fly I’d fly with thee, With feathered chums to mix. For Sydney is a rotten place With pubs all closed at six.
54
FRANK (TO MABEL) I, er, pinched some flowers for you. Actually one of my ladies asked if I had a sweetheart. I didn’t know what to say. I got all the way downstairs, and... (CALLING) Actually yes, I do. Yes.
AN ANONYMOUS ARM THROWS SOME FLOWERS, WHICH HE CATCHES.
MABEL I’ve never seen a fella carry a bunch of flowers before.
FRANK Yeah well. (STANDS THERE) I don’t want to do it for too long.
SHE TAKES THEM FROM HIM.
MABEL Thanks Frank.
FRANK
Got a late delivery, can you hang on? HE KNOCKS ON THE DOOR.
VOICE/CORA You’re barking up the wrong tree, love. They got theirselves a Kelvinator, too. Marvellous.
55
FRANK Yep. Marvellous.
MABEL Well...as my mother used to say, nothing really matters. If the roof falls in, or your pants blow up...
FRANK More and more’ll get Kelvinators. No one’ll even notice we’ve
gone on the scrapheap. (PAUSE) Yer know what I like. It’s knowing there’s a whole lot of ladies, actually waiting for you. Like one the farm, the way the cows hang around waiting
to be - cripes.
56
GOOD-BYE ICEMAN
KEN (SUNG) Ladies.
CORA POSITIONS HERSELF ON A LANDING.
Ladies. NOW ROSE.
Ladies. AND MABEL.
FRANK (SPOKEN) Because out of all your fellas delivering meat, bread, clothes props your iceman’s the only one actually invited in. Can’t say much, but I’ve seen some things. Ladies always standing on the first floor landing Ladies in the el- e- vator,
CHORUS
Ladies looking, looking while the sausages are cooking, Looking at the ice in the refrigerator - Once there was an Iceman, full of burning smirks, Cupid’s Casanova from the freezing works; Now there’s only porcelain, cupboards and duplicity, Pipes and wheels and switches and stupid electricity,
57
GOODBYE ICEMAN (cont’d)
Once there was an Iceman, full of secret charms, Adonis’s addition to my open arms, Now there’s only cabinets, cycles and devices, Kerosene and heat exchange and units to entice us.
MABEL, CORA ROSE
And girls grow sick of the cold click, click Of the New Re- frig- er- ator.
FRANK, MABEL, CORA, ROSE Once there was an Iceman, took us all by storm, His ice was cold but his heart was warm, Now there’s only clockwork, motors and thermometers, Whirligigs in cylinders, and gases in gasometers, And you don’t get any passion, in any sort of fashion, From the New Re- frig- er- ator.
FRANK So listen, no longer, little pink lady, No one is tramping to knock at your door, There’s no more romance in the Iceman’s glance, And he doesn’t come round anymore.
MABEL TAKES FRANK’S ARM AND THEY EXIT.
58
UNDERSCORING BEGINS AND CONTINUES UNTIL “DELICATESSEN”. A MOVEMENT MONTAGE WHICH SUGGESTS A SIX O’CLOCK BUSTLE e.g. CROSSING THE STREET, THE ODD CAR HORN. KEN AND JOE MOVE THROUGH IT, OCCASIONALLY WITH IT. CHARACTERS BREAK OFF TO PLAY “THEMSELVES”.
CROWD Meet you at seven. See you for eight. Come after nine. Dinner? Divine!
KEN Friendships played out under neon lights on wet and shiny streets.
SPUD Oi. Oi Cora. The pub down William Street is crawling, and I mean crawling with plain-clothes nit. I’m weak and starving. Pick us up a bit of tucker.
CORA Don’t hold your breath.
SPUD What’ve you got your nose up in the air for? Ah, walk normal, I know what you’re doing. You’re never going to be a mannequin, I don’t know why you bother.
CORA I’ll pick up some corned beef for two, one with ground glass.
59
KEN AND JOE PASS.
JOE A couple of bottles of sly grog...?
KEN Too expensive, and humiliating - knocking on the counter in code.
JOE (LOOKING AT KEN) The tightest bastard I know.
60
MABEL I didn’t just happen to run into you, you know, I knew what time you knocked off.
FRANK I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a feed with me.
MABEL Tonight?! Yes please!
FRANK Crumbs. I meant after pay day. Three day week you know.
MABEL Well, that’ll be real good. I’m going in there, so...
FRANK Struth, you don’t do your shopping in there.
MABEL Oh yes. I do. I’ve talked the bloke into letting me chalk things up.
FRANK More hide than Jessie, I’ll say that for you.
MABEL I know. I’m only going to buy an egg.
FRANK Will I wait and walk you home?
61
MABEL
No, it’s alright, thanks. (SHE GOES TOWARDS DELI, TURN AROUND) Eh, fancy having to buy an egg! Bye.
FRANK Hooroo.
ROSE This time of night, terribly sweet. All the chorus girls are lined up outside the cake shop. Half price cakes for them, just after closing. One is so in the thick of things...
JOE (CARRYING A FEW BOTTLES IN A PAPER BAG) Right, now we’re in business. Come on let’s polish them off.
KEN No.
JOE Come on.
KEN No. I’m eating.
JOE “What will you have,” said the waiter, reflectively picking his nose. “I’ll have two boiled eggs you bastard. You can’t get your fingers in those.” Bon appetit.
MABEL (ON HER OWN) Dear Annie, I don’t know if all of Sydney’s like this, or only round here, but no one seems to cook. Mum would’ve had a fit. You can buy brawn, and you don’t even have to crumb your own rissoles.
62
MUSIC. THE WOMEN ARE IN THE DELI.
ROSE My account closed? My account closed? On the basis of a phone call from a “gentleman”? Well I think we might telephone him back. There must be some mistake. I am a regular customer, there must be some mistake. You have made an error. I’ll say it again so that you understand, you have made an error. (PAUSE) I see. I see. (SHE TURNS TO GO) You will hear about this. You will (SHE DROPS HER PURSE. MABEL BEGINS TO HELP HER) Fingers off. Fingers off.
MABEL I’m only trying to help.
ROSE Ha! Help yourself you mean. (SHE BEGINS TO PICK UP THE “COINS”)
CORA Couple of sandwiches short of a picnic, forget it. Eh? Yes...Two slices of corned beef. (PAUSE) No a bit smaller, thanks. Eh? Um, I’ll just take one for the moment, ta...
MABEL An egg, please. An egg. Yes, please. One.
ROSE STANDS, OR PREPARES TO LEAVE THE SHOP. CORA TAKES HER PARCEL.
CORA Thank you.
MABEL (TAKING HER EGG) Thank you.
ROSE (TAKING HER LEAVE) Thank you.
THEY ALL TAKE IN THE SIGHT BEFORE THEM.
63
DELICATESSEN
ROSE, MABEL, CORA Little round cherries in little round glasses, Oysters in bottles and soup a la can, Over the counter the grocery passes All for the love of a man - All for the love of a far-away someone, Chafing with hunger in far-away state, Snatching from Mammon a mouthful of salmon, Banging a fork on his plate. Olives and gherkins and sauerkraut and white bait Pork and asparagus captive in tin. Searching for any marked “Tasty One Penny” Faces gaze wistfully in.
ROSE Ladies who linger too late with bargain, Chauffeurs whose mistresses peer from their cars, All down the counter, they crowd with their jargon, Buying their dinner in jars;
ROSE, CORA, MABEL Food for the flat, a snack for the wealthy, Arrogant truffles and vulgar sardines Herrings and custard and mushrooms and mustard, Caviar, chicken and beans.
64
FRANK, JOE AND KEN ARE ISOLATED, EACH WITH THEIR LITTLE PARCELS. THEY MIGHT MIRROR EACH OTHER’S IMAGE.
KEN Let aristocratic heroes Boast the platters of the Guelph, You can dream of Trocaderoes When you’re dining by yourself:
FRANK, KEN AND JOE You can hover like a glutton, You can order what you choose, Try the fricassee of mutton, Toy with terrapin ragouts, All the claret of Lugano, All the fairy tea and toasts, Bought by Ferdinand Romano And a staff of lovely ghosts.
KEN First the oysters round and juicy, Served by some delightful girl -
KEN, SPUD Call her Nancy, call her Lucy, She may fetch perhaps a pearl;
FRANK Next the soup of tender turtle From a nymph with yellow hair -
FRANK, SPUD Call her Mabel, call her Myrtle, She can spice it with a stare;
65
JOE Then a fowl on gleaming china that a pretty creature brings -
JOE, SPUD Call her Dulcie, call her Dinah, You may find a pair of wings.
KEN, JOE, FRANK, SPUD For a moment they will glimmer, For a twinkle they will gleam - Then the kettle starts to simmer And they vanish like a dream; You can whistle for them vainly, You may call in tender tones, But the soup is printed plainly With the name of Foggitt-Jones Then you suddenly awaken -
KEN There’s a sausage on the shelf, And the bacon looks like bacon, And you’re eating by yourself!
THE WOMEN GO BACK TO BEING THEMSELVES.
WOMEN Ham, pink as roses, and peaches and pickles, Onions in crystal, like globules of gold, Out of the window the treasury trickles, Greedily speedily sold; Olives and gherkins and sauerkraut and white bait Pork and asparagus, captive in tin -
66
WOMEN
(CONT’D) Searching for any marked “Tasty, One Penny”, Faces gaze wistfully in.
ALL Misting the glass of the windows they press on. Snub little noses pushed flat with a sigh - Delicatessen, Delicatessen, Delicatessen, good-bye!
EVERYONE IS AT THEIR SPACE. THEY STAND FOR A MOMENT, THEN ALL EXCEPT KEN, DISAPPEAR. KEN LOOKS ABOUT HIM. LIGHTS FADE.
67
ACT TWOFIVE BELLS THEME. LIGHTS UP ON KEN IN HIS “EYRIE”. JOE PRESENT KEN
“Between the double and the single bell Of a ship’s hour, between a round of bells From the dark warship riding there below, I have lived many lives, and this one life...”
*KEN (MUSIC) I never saw the spirit of the Cross so charmingly demonstrated as late one hot night - I am down by the harbour, enjoying the silence, and (LISTENS) a regular plopping noise, followed by soft thuds and hisses. From on a balcony above me large white dinner plates are sailing out into the moonlit air. Soaring out - glimmering - splashing. And the hissing? (PEERS UP) Someone is taking advantage of these targets from heaven by firing at them - with an airgun.
MUSIC SUGGESTS HEAT. SILHOUETTE OF ROSE BRUSHING HER HAIR, PINNING IT UP, FANNING. SOUND OF SOMEONE WHISTLING. WE MIGHT SEE THE “SNOUT” OF JOE’S SAXOPHONE. MABEL ON A PARK BENCH.
CORA Oh God, someone get me an aspirin.
68
FRANK (ON A STEP, SINGS TO HIMSELF) Let banks and bailiffs rule the air, Oh, what do lovers care? The tide still floats upon the sand, The moon still rules the air.
SPUD Who took all the cold water? Struth, there isn’t any cordial.
FRANK
The sky is still with magic blent The heart still cries a tune - Who’ll cut the night by ten per-cent And who can tax the moon?
MABEL Dear Annie, the whole city’s parched. There was meant to be a change hours ago. Guess what? I met this bloke. He’s really nice. He’s got a real solid job and - he’s always taking me out to posh restaurants so I’m very flat out at the moment.
ROSE How’s one meant to breathe - there isn’t any air.
69
THE GIRL IN THE WINDOW
MABEL The girl in the window Looks over the square, At a girl in a window With pearls in her hair, With diamonds to dangle And feathers to preen, A comb and a bangle, As proud as a queen.
ROSE In a flat so becoming, So silken and sleek, With hot and cold plumbing (Ten guineas a week, Where life is no harder For paying a price With fowls in the larder And Heidsick on ice. No need to be thrifty Or spend and repent, With “Papa” aged fifty To fix up the rent.
ROSE AND MABEL The girl in the window Looks over the square And sees, in a mirror, Herself standing there.
70
ROSE The girl in the window Looks over the square, At a girl in a window With eyes of despair, In a cheap little attic, A cheap little dress, All cotton and Batik (Ten shillings or less),
MABEL A trunk with no label, A ricketty bed, A broken down table, A banquet of bread, The wallpaper peeling, A crack in the door, A crack in the ceiling, And dust on the floor;
ROSE AND MABEL No hope for tomorrow, The money all spent, A fortnight of sorrow, Behind in the rent. The girl in the window Looks over the square - At a girl in the window - Herself - standing there.
71
JOE What are you doing?
KEN Waiting for the southerly change.
JOE And?
KEN This harbour like a sky that no one uses. That’s all.
JOE You at your window. Your world through your window. The day your window cracks - the stars’ll burst. I wish I could be around to see it.
KEN Where are you going? (NO REPLY) Where are you going?
JOE Well, are you coming or not? The girls down Palmer Street have moved their gramophones out onto the balconies, they’re all out on the street dancing with their clients. I’m to bring a friend.
KEN Thank you, but...
JOE Well, it’s probably all over now anyway. I’ve probably missed it. A street full of gossamer angels.
SPUD HAS APPROACHED MABEL.
SPUD Listen love, blind Freddie could see you’re new at this.
72
SPUD This isn’t your territory up here. The other girls’ll have your guts for garters.
MABEL Um, I live near here. I’m waiting... What girls?
SPUD Look, I’ll do you a favour and hang about a bit. How’d you like to earn twice what you’re earning now?
MABEL I’m not earning anything at the moment.
*SPUD All right. You got grass growing out of your ears, but don’t lay it on too thick. I’m talking about two pounds, on a good night.
MABEL Beg your pardon?
SPUD Listen, I’m not a copper, I’m not trying to do you in. I’m offering you very good, clean work, down the docks. You’re not silly enough to turn your nose up at two pounds a night, are you?
MABEL To do what?
73
SPUD
Like I said, to do the docks. They’ve been left a bit short. The Swedes are in, easy work the Swedes, very clean, remarkably clean.
MABEL Two pounds a night...
SPUD Too right. And the rest.
MABEL I - I - I don’t know anything about ships. I’m waiting for my boyfriend, you’d better hop it. He gets real jealous.
SPUD Your story and you’re stickin’ to it. Please yourself. Pretty hard world when you try to do someone a favour...
74
KEN STILL AT HIS “WINDOW”. JOE IS PLAYING, AS IF SITTING ON A ROOF TOP. MABEL MAKES HER WAY UP TO THE SAME LEVEL.
MABEL Oh...I thought I was the only person in the place who ever came up on the roof. Sorry...
JOE Stay.
MABEL (SHE SITS) Talk about hot. There’s usually some sort of breeze up here. (JOE PLAYS) Oh. I hear you playing sometimes. It’s really nice. I always wondered who it was. When did you learn?
JOE I was very young.
MABEL Oh.
JOE And my mother put it in my mouth to shut me up. And, every time I cried, music came out.
MABEL Really?
JOE SHAKES HIS HEAD. JOE LEANS OVER THE EDGE, AND CATCHES SOMETHING IN HIS HAND.
MABEL Be careful.
JOE First of the Christmas beetles. Early.
MABEL Oh.
HE PLACES THEM IN HER HAIR.
JOE Do they hurt?
75
MABEL No.
HE CATCHES SOME MORE AND PLACES THEM IN HER HAIR. KEN WATCHES.
MABEL Do they sparkle?
JOE Oh yes. They do. (PAUSE) One night, you know, on a sparkling night just like this, I’m going to invite everyone I know to a banquet - up here on the roof. People I don’t know very well perhaps - Parnell, the Pope - provided they watch their table manners. After the meal I will stand on the table, clearing it little, my friends and acquaintances laughing as the odd crystal glass tinkles from the table, the odd bottle of claret up-ended, flowing into bread. Then I will begin to dance very carefully along it. Waving and nodding, countering jokes and laughter, I’ll keep dancing, but faster. As I get near the end of the table - who will be the first to catch on? Ken - you. (HE SPEAKS ACROSS TO KEN, MABEL DOESN’T ACKNOWLEDGE THIS) Definitely you. And I’ll soar off over the roof, past the windows, reading the Neon lights on the way down, the occasional red or white pulsating arrow clarifying the direction in which I am heading. And hopefully, at last, a good look up to see?... Everyone, for once, knowing exactly where I was. Everyone in agreement about what I’d done.
76
MABEL (PULLING THE BEETLES OFF HER HAIR) They’re starting to stick into me... um...
JOE (TO KEN, AND STANDING CLOSE TO AN EDGE) But remember I think you’d be the first to catch on.
MABEL Please could you sit down. (PAUSE) It’s quite frightening seeing someone ...I’m going in now...Thank you for...
KEN (TO JOE AS HE BEGINS TO PLAY AGAIN) Some years later I was in a garden, at a party. Dusk. I was courting a young woman. I placed Christmas beetles in her hair. I surprised everyone, I surprised myself, and the thing was, I pretended it was an original thought.
UNDERSCORING.
77
ROSE No! No. No. No! Papa...
PAPA/FRANK That’s the agreement.
ROSE But not yet...
PAPA/FRANK She’s turned twenty one -
ROSE Surprisingly, I did remember.
PAPA/FRANK And as you know our arrangement is therefore terminated. I’ve let it go on...You must have savings.
ROSE Must I? Must I?
PAPA/FRANK I’ve always thought a florist’s...
ROSE Ha! Can you imagine!
PAPA/FRANK I’ve always thought you’d like doing that. I could give you some assistance but that really will be all.
78
ROSE No more weekly visits? No more cheques left discreetly under the pillow? I’m grief-stricken. I’ll sell the car. I’ve never really liked it.
PAPA/FRANK Have you ever asked to see the papers? It’s in my name, always has been.
ROSE GOES TO THE WINDOW AND LOOKS. IT’S GONE.
ROSE Well, as I’ve often said, a standing cock has no conscience. “Leading QC leads double life. Mother of his love-child tells. Wife shattered.” Finally.
PAPA/FRANK Left the bar last week, to potter in my rose garden. Papers couldn’t care less about me now. (PAUSE) This may come as a surprise, but I’ve had you followed for some months. Your cocaine habit...interested me.
ROSE I’m coping, that’s all. Coping with the so very dull gay circle you found for me. (PAUSE) I’ll find her -
PAPA/FRANK There is a portfolio, photographs, and at the smell of trouble, a doctor friend of mine would be prepared to certify you. In case you’re thinking of anything,
79
PAPA/FRANK
(cont’d) we’re sending her off to London, she’s very interested in Art-
ROSE I’ll go to London and find her. One day when you’re hacking at your poor bloody roses, we’ll come visiting. My daughter and I, strolling down the garden path - discussing Art! Yes. Hopefully you’ll drop dead of shock. Older men do you know. In their gardens.
HE LEAVES.
ROSE The world is full of old men kneeling over in their gardens.
SHE SHOUTS OUT OF THE WINDOW.
ROSE And wives secretly jumping for joy!
SHE CATCHES KEN’S EYE AND DISAPPEARS INSIDE. JOE PLAYS. LIGHTS UP ON SPUD AND CORA.
KEN The saddest sound you ever heard, you said. Late one night, a prostitute crying for her mother.
CORA No! No more schemes ... no....
80
SPUD Sweetheart, this is big money. After a few of these, you can do whatever you want - be an usherette, a footballer, whatever. You only got to watch. You can watch can’t you?
CORA The last person I knew got involved in snow had her face slashed to pieces.
SPUD (SHOWS HER A GLINT OF HIS KNIFE) All I’m asking is you listen to this simple plan see if you like it. Bluey and I go down to the Loo, organise a little boat. The chinks are hanging over the side of the ship, painting her. Ooops a daisy, the chinks fall in the drink. All the chinks on deck look over and chuck ‘em...lifesaver bizzos. There’s the snow - inside. You just keep a lookout. Trigger finger warm, on Mr Smith and Wesson. I won’t do it unless you’re happy. (KNIFE GLINTS) That sound like an easy way to make some dough?
CORA And the dope sits here?
SPUD We’re moving. Posh block, safe as houses. You know, you’re the only person I can trust.
81
FIVE BELLS MUSIC. THE CROSS IS STILL.
JOE The world gets darker and darker. Blow it all up and start again.
KEN In Sydney, by the spent acquarium flare of penny gaslight on pink wallpaper, we argued about blowing up the world... (TO JOE) You are totally illogical.
JOE Because the idea of Fading Away - fading! - is so odious, the mortal coil slipping off with just the suggestion of a shrug -
KEN Human beings are self-preserving.
JOE Well, of course, we all know about you. I wonder, have you ever sneezed without first having the handkerchief out of your pocket?
KEN Go home.
JOE We rage at not being remembered - a piece of your hair in someone’s locket if you’re lucky. Don’t tell me even you can’t summon up some pique about that?
82
KEN Look -
JOE The point is, really the point is, that people cannot bear to think that the world, life, could possibly continue after they go.
KEN No - we want to leave something -
JOE That life takes care of itself. The extension that is to leave nothing.
KEN Assuming they’d ever find a way to blow up -
JOE They will because they need to. (JOE STUMBLES, CLUTCHES AT KEN) Ah, for example, at first - I hold onto you for support, then there’s a split-second...bugger it, I think, if I’m going, I’ll have company.
JOE FALLS, KEN REMAINS STANDING.
KEN Please go home.
JOE (ON THE GROUND) I’m told another distressing experience is to contemplate one’s life in, oh, (cont’d)
83
JOE (cont’d) twelve months time - and to be unable to see oneself in it.
KEN This is all you is it? All this?
JOE “The moon is of monster size, and the sky is full of mad astronomy.” Comforting, though, that the stars look better from down here.
KEN Exactly. That’s what you always would do - blankets of words and beer. No one could budge you.
JOE Not even an elephant.
HE MAKES A DRUNKEN GRAB AT KEN’S LEG.
KEN Get up.
JOE Just remember, one day you’ll know... the-insidious-allurement-of-the-will- to-failure.
KEN For Christ’s sake. Come on. You’re less and less amusing you know.
JOE Thank heaven for that. Thank heaven for that.
84
KEN HEARS THE SQUEALS AND LAUGHTER FROM THE FOLLOWING. MABEL IS STANDING ON THE “HARBOUR WALL”. FRANK IS A SMALL DISTANCE FROM HER. THEY HAVE HESSIAN BAGS WITH THEM (FOR FISHING). HE RUNS, GRABS HER AND PRETENDS HE’S GOING TO THROW HER IN.
FRANK In the drink! In the drink!
MABEL SQUEALS AND PROTESTS.
MABEL I knew you wouldn’t.
FRANK Why’s that?
MABEL Because I’ve got the best line. (IN HER HAND) You wouldn’t’ve let that go.
FRANK Sat up all last night getting the tangles out.
MABEL It was a good feed I got for you, but.
FRANK
Here’s one - do you know that a single fly lays four million eggs in a season? ...Cripes, what about the married ones?
85
MABEL Wonder what the fish make of all the lights. Look at that.
FRANK “Nice place to visit, but not where we belong.” Buzz back out in the centre. Like us. (PAUSE) It’s the space, in the long run. Very difficult for people like us who’ve had space, not to have any. Oh, I didn’t tell you, we had rain.
MABEL Oh, that’s real good.
FRANK Three years. Eh, on the first day of rain out your way, do you get those tiny little green frogs just come out of nowhere? Funny, isn’t it, they jump around for a day or two, and then they’re gone. (PAUSE) You let me know if you decide to go back sudden.
MABEL I’m not packing it in. I just know - it won’t be long, something good’s going to happen.
FRANK That’s what I thought two years ago. (LOOKS AT HER) Took a while.
MABEL I never really liked all that space.
86
FRANK Oh well, we’ve got trees. Nice lot of trees...
SILENCE.
FRANK Big ship. Off she goes. Where do you reckon that one’s from?
MABEL (PEERING) Sweden. Very clean apparently.
FRANK You’ll have to pack it in soon.
MABEL Well, I don’t mind eating fish all the time, and the landlady forgets about the rent, if I listen to her organ recital -
FRANK Eh?
MABEL ...liver, kidneys, gall bladder, veins...
FRANK I’ve been having a good think about my place up home. I reckon somehow with some new machinery - a lady’s touch around the place - I reckon two might make a go of it.
MABEL Got ‘im! Got ‘im!
FRANK Gawd. Give it a tug, like - (HE ASSISTS, THE FISH ESCAPES)
87
MABEL Guess he knew where he was headed and thought twice. Which is more than what I’m doing at the moment.
FRANK (PUTTING HIS ARM AROUND HER) Now, you’re just not feeling settled, that’s all. Not yet. You just need a place that feels like home. Not just a “sticking it out” type of place, which is why you feel a bit funny at the moment. We’ll get you sorted out, don’t you worry.
JOE RUNS ON, CARRYING AN ARTIST’S SKELETON, WHICH HE PLACES IN A POOL OF LIGHT.
JOE Ken! Ken!
KEN LOOKS DOWN.
88
KEN Alright, I get the message. You need a good meal... My shout. Or are you sketching “en plein air”? Wouldn’t have thought the light was right, but what would I know about art? Hello.
*JOE My landlady! Wonderful. Makes life worth living. Roie Norton did a midnight flit. She left some paintings behind. Too big to carry. Landlady goes in to clear out her room. Out she comes, dead white. “Right!” She’s screaming on the landing. “That’s it. I’m kicking all you artist types out!” I stick my head out. The two blokes living together on the first floor are standing there trying to look innocent. “No artists. I’m having no artists here. That goes for you two too.” “Come off it,” I say. “They’re two poofs working the porcelain department in Prouds. I hardly call that being an artist.”
KEN That was very sensitive of you.
89
JOE
“I’ve got eyes,” she says. “They’ve got a touch of the flamboyant in them. Fancy shirts, scarves. I’ve got eyes.” “Purquoi the pogrom?”
KEN You said?
JOE Yes. “That’s right,” she says. “Sling off. I don’t want the shock I’ve had this evening ever repeated ever again. I’ve put up with that Roie Norton witch woman - it’s one thing to tolerate strange habits, it’s another to deal with the stuff she leaves behind.”
KEN What was it? What did she leave?
JOE “Those paintings. The filth in those paintings.” (BIG BREATH) “Two naked women and a big black dog. Go ahead and have your smirk. All of yez, pay up, you’re out by Friday. And you...”
KEN You?
JOE Yes. Yes! “I’ve been in your room,” she says. “Don’t think I haven’t. I didn’t come down in the last shower. I know you’ve got a skeleton in your cupboard.”
KEN Where will you go? ...I suppose you’d like me to mind him?...her?...it?...
90
SPUD AND CORA BEGIN TO SNEAK OUT OF THEIR FLAT. THEY CARRY SUITCASES. UNDERSCORING BEGINS.
CORA Eh, Mrs O’Leary? Gawd hearing like a bat. (SHE MOTIONS TO SPUD TO HIDE. SHE SPEAKS TO MRS O’LEARY THROUGH A DOORWAY) Yes, it’s me. Cora. Cora, yes. Oh, Mrs O’Leary, do I look the type to do a midnight flit?
CORA (STILL CAUGHT AT THE DOORWAY) This? (SUITCASE) My sister’s just had a baby, I’ve been up embroidering for weeks. Look I’d love to chat but I’ve got to get to the hospital, the poor kid hasn’t got a stitch to wear.
CORA Is the rent overdue? Gawd my husband’s absent-minded, we’ll get you a couple of bottles of very nice drain to make up for it. ...Ah, get off your high horse you stupid old bag.
91
MOVING DAY AT MIDNIGHT
When it’s moving day at midnight, And the boarders bolt their doors, When the watchmen blink and the gunmen wink, And the Darlinghurst landlord snores, Oh, it’s then that we climb from windows To take the moon for a ride, Or fumble and drag at a Gladstone bag, With a couple of shirts inside. There’s a rope from the second storey, There’s a phantom hand below, But little of ghosts who slide down posts Does the soul of the landlord know; O little he thinks of moonlight And little he reeks of rent, But he mutters and moans as he dreams of loans At a hundred and five per-cent. For we go like Ancient Arabs, Whenever the mood invites; We haven’t a tent, but we don’t pay rent - Hooray for Arabian Nights!
92
SILENCE. MABEL WALKS. SHE CAN HEAR FOOTSTEPS BEHIND HER. WHEN SHE STOPS, THEY STOP.
MABEL If Dad asks again, tell him I’m safe. (SHE LOOKS BEHIND HER AND QUICKLY ROUNDS A CORNER)
SUDDENLY CORA APPEARS, WALKING QUICKLY, LOOKING BEHIND HER.
SPUD You bitch, Cora.
CORA Shut your trap. Do you want the world to know you’re a nut-case? Leave me alone, I’m walking off my dinner.
SPUD CATCHES UP WITH HER AND GRABS HER ARM.
CORA If you want to have a conversation you let go. And get back. Further. Alright - may I help you?
SPUD* Honey, this is a big big haul. The ship’s in in the morning, I need some capital. Then that’ll be it.
CORA What happened? The bottom fall out of the suit market.
SPUD I’ll ask you again, how much’ve you got stashed?
93
CORA
I’m laughing. I’m laughing.
SPUD Why’d you go so pale when I said I found it?
CORA What do you think? I thought you meant something else.
SPUD (APPROACHING HER) What. What else?
CORA Don’t make me tell. Alright. I suppose I’ll have to. ...The presentation pack of Minties I was saving for your birthday.
SHE TURNS TO GO. HE PRODUCES HIS KNIFE. SHE MOVES ONLY A FEW STEPS AND SHE TURNS TO SWIPE AT HIM.
CORA Don’t follow me - (SHE CONNECTS WITH HIS KNIFE, CUTTING HER HAND) Oh, Christ. Christ. (SHE LOOKS AT HER HAND, THEN AT HIM) Just for that I’m keeping the Minties.
SPUD Jesus.
HE BUNDLES HER AWAY.
94
UNDERSCORING. GENERAL MOVEMENT. FRANK AND MABEL LEAVE THE HARBOUR.
ROSE (SEARCHING FOR A DOORWAY, WITH A BAG IN WHICH SHE HAS SOME JEWELLERY) Why in God’s name can’t an establishment stay in one building for more than a week? I’m all for change, but I can’t find anything.
KEN AND FRANK AND MABEL ARE ON DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE STAGE.
ROSE (TO HERSELF) Things change so quickly, how are we meant to find things. (SMILES AT KEN) I wonder. (KEN NODS POLITELY AND KEEPS WALKING. HE TURNS TO SEE FRANK AND MABEL HALT)
ROSE Where is the bloody place?
MABEL Um, what are you after?
FRANK Gawd.
ROSE There was a shop, a - what’s the word - pawnbroker’s? Here for a while. It was here last week.
FRANK No. There’s never been one here love. All well and truly over that way.
95
ROSE Oh, is that right? Well, I know! I might just have to get rid of some ballast. (OPENS PURSE. WE REALISE THAT IT’S JEWELLERY) You’re very pretty, I suppose he tells you that all the time? The first item your fingers touch...yours to keep.
MABEL Oh, no thank you. Oh dear. They’re your things.
ROSE There are some very lovely pieces. Someone’s family heirlooms, probably.
FRANK You want to go home, someone’ll bump you on the head.
ROSE (TO MABEL) Why not? I’d like you to -
MABEL If you’re upset or something - you mustn’t give things away. We can walk you home, you live near me, you’ve got that car...
ROSE God! Close your eyes -
FRANK Look she doesn’t need any jewellery, or whatever you’ve got. Buzz off.
96
ROSE
Well, of course not. Not when she can live on thin air and love. Am I right? You very silly little girl. If you think I’m mad for throwing away a few bits of gold, you -
FRANK Right.
FRANK TAKES HER ARM AND IS GOING TO HOLD HER WHILE MABEL PASSES. MABEL CONTINUES TO LISTEN.
ROSE Love is gentle, love is kind. Love is all-forgiving - pull the other one. I’ll tell you. The trip downwards is not terribly pleasant.
FRANK Come on!
ROSE Pulls you down, seeps into your ears until you can’t hear a thing. It -
FRANK Mabel -
MABEL PASSES HER.
ROSE You silly girl. You can’t eat love.
MABEL Hope you find the - what you were looking for...
97
ROSE
(PAUSE) I really must reveal my true identity - I’m actually a plain clothes member of the Salvation Army, sent out to minister to lost sheep. Same time next week? I’ll bring you a War Cry. Ha!
ROSE DISAPPEARS. JOE IS ON HIS LEDGE. KEN LOOKS UP AT HIM.
JOE I’ve got this idea for a cartoon.
KEN (REMEMBERING) There’s a man sitting at the Gap, looking over the edge...
JOE A copper approaches. “What’s up with you digger?” “Everything. The wife’s run off with a cobber of mine, the shop’s gone to the pack, and I’ve lost me false teeth.” “Go-orn,” says the copper. “So, I’m going over the Gap.” “Well, mate, you may well be, but we’ll have a talk about it first.” So they sat down and had a talk about it. Then they both went over the Gap.
JOE PLAYS.
KEN You were sketching the Bridge being built, and, you said, just as you looked up, a workman fell.
JOE He waved to me as he fell.
98
KEN
In your mind. What sort of person would wave as they fell?
MUSIC OR SOUND.
JOE “Memories are hunting horns -
KEN Whose sounds die on the wind.”
JOE Ken, my memories are getting louder, shrill. People I haven’t seen for years come visiting. I wake up in a panic because I can’t remember anything that was said. Heroes, they say, in moments of crisis hear angels’ voices. Haven’t had those yet.
MABEL Tell Dad I’ve got a job. It’s in a big store. I’m on trial for a while and they say I’m real good. (TO FRANK) And this morning they said to come upstairs and fill out a personnel form. My religion and where I lived. Methodist was quite good, but when I told her Kings Cross, she went quiet. She asked me again, and I told her again. Then she said, are you sure? Then she said, this is most embarrassing, this is a respectable firm. Well, I’m respectable. Would I be prepared to move? I said, no thanks, I really like it there. Some claptrap about it not being safe.
99
FRANK
Cripes, you weren’t being very bright.
MABEL Suppose not.
FRANK Weeks and weeks trying to find - times are getting bad.
MABEL I just didn’t think.
FRANK And anyway you should watch yourself. I’ve been meaning to talk to you. You can’t just go walking wherever you like.
MABEL I don’t. I know what bad types look like - they’re only out for each other.
FRANK Look, you’re very -
MABEL You’re not my father.
FRANK Now, Mabel...
100
MABEL Well, you’re not. And I’m not stupid. (PAUSE) Just so long as you know, that’s all.
THE SET IS BY NOW TRANSFORMED INTO CHOKER’S LANE. “CHOKER’S LANE” PLAYS ON ACCORDION.
ROSE (TO JOE) Would you answer a question for me? Would you be so kind?
JOE Of course. What...
ROSE Am I invisible? Am I invisible? Did I die and no one told me?
JOE No, no. You’re right.
ROSE
Well, why won’t these crooked bastards listen to me. Herbalists, I’ll expose the lot of you. Gentlemen, I am a regular customer. You don’t realise this because I used to be driven here in my...
CHOKER’S LANE MUSIC CONTINUES, SPUD HELPS CORA STRAP ON THE SMITH AND WESSON.
101
CORA I don’t like the job, and I don’t like this going off separate to Katoomba either.
SPUD* Sweetheart you just worry about your reflexes. First sign of any trouble you’re out in Choker’s Lane backing me up. Of course there won’t be, and afterwards it’s just better we clear off separate. (HE ADJUSTS HIS TIE) We’re cleaning up baby - the big boys want that snow...
CORA (THE GUN) I always hate this thing.
SPUD Shuttup. Go on, off you go - just set yourself up at the top of the Lane. You look perfect - just another girl on the game. A cinch.
CORA Tomorrow. At the Three Bloody Sisters. Gawd you better turn up.
SPUD Baby.
KEN You took to walking home via Darlinghurst’s darkest streets, the murkiest lanes in Woolloomooloo. Testing your nerves. What are you testing them for?
102
CHOKER’S LANE
In Choker’s Lane the doors appear, Like black and shining coffin lids, Whose fill of flesh, long buried here, Familiar visiting forbids. But sometimes when their bells are twirled, They’ll show, like Hades, through the chink, The green and watery gaslight world, Where girls have faces white as zinc. And sometimes thieves go smoothly past Or pad by moonlight home again For even thieves come home at last, Even thieves of Choker’s Lane. And sometimes you can feel the breath Of beasts decaying in their den - The soft unhurrying teeth of Death With leather jaws come tasting men.
103
THE SONG IS UNDER THE FOLLOWING, LIKE A DISTANT PHONOGRAPH. SOME MOVEMENT AMONG THE SHADOWY FIGURES. SPUD WALKS THROUGH, A DUSTBIN LID FALLS. HE WAITS, SENSES SOMETHING GOING ON ABOUT HIM. LOOKING THROUGH THE GLOOM, HE’S HOLDING HIS PARCEL. HE HEARS A NOISE, THEN ANOTHER. HE REACHES FOR HIS GUN AND IS SHOT IN THE ARM/HAND. HE EITHER DROPS HIS GUN, AND/OR STRUGGLES TO GET IT OUT OF HIS COAT, AND LOOKS DESPERATELY TOWARDS CORA FOR HELP. EITHER WAY HE IS NOT SUPPORTED BY CORA, AND IS SHOT AGAIN.
CHOKER’S LANE
ROSE And sometimes you feel the breath Of beasts decaying in their den - The soft unhurrying teeth of death, With leather jaws come tasting men.
104
FIVE BELLS MUSIC.
JOE The leather jaws of death continue to nibble at my father. Another letter.
KEN ...We argued about blowing up the world, But you were living backwards... And they were living all of them, those frames And shapes of flesh that had perplexed your youth, And most your father, the old man gone blind... The graveyard mason...
JOE He writes to me in pencil, he won’t trust himself with an ink bottle.
KEN That’s to be expected, he’s old.
JOE I don’t know what to write back to him. He is writing to tell me that only now, at the end of his days, does he realise that he has lived an ordinary, a second-hand life. Carving headstones for the dead.
KEN He gave monuments to lives that mightn’t otherwise have had one.
JOE I don’t know what to write back.
KEN He’s old, he might have even forgotten that he’s written it.
105
JOE*
God. To find something that would change you utterly. Throw you, even you, off balance.
SNOWDROPS MUSIC. ROSE IS CATCHING “LEAVES” FALLING FROM A TREE. HER DESPERATION BUILDS. KEN AND JOE WATCH.
KEN I know what she’s doing. A German custom - if you catch ten leaves before they hit the ground you get a wish. (THEY WATCH) She’s nowhere near it.
ROSE Am I invisible, that’s all.
106
SNOWDROPS
ROSE, KEN, JOE The Snowdrop Girl in fields of snowdrops walks, Whiter than foam, deeper than waters flowing, Flakes of wild milk gone blowing, Snowing on cloud stalks. The Snowdrop Girl goes picking flowers of snow, Blossoms of darkness bubbling into dreams, In a strange country, by the shadowy streams Where the cruel petal of the Coke-Tree grow. From the smoke and the fume of a backyard room, Where proverty sits and gloats, On runaway feet from a dirty street To a field of snow she floats; And tickets to hell have a curious smell And a dangerous crystal whiff Where men hawk Death in a snowdrop’s breath At a couple of shillings a sniff.
JOE, KEN, ROSE Snowdrop Girl in fields of snowdrops dwells, Whiter than graveyard stones, Over her sleep there tosses A wilderness of bells. Oh, Snowdrop Girl, picking your blossoms here, The road grows dark and bitter further on Where other lonelier Snowdrop Girls have gone, Lost in the poisoned snow of yesteryear. Beware, beware those petals of air - There’s never a flower in slums. You’re caught in a cage, in a cage. But wait ‘til the Snowman comes!
JOE, KEN, ROSE (cont.)
Then the arclights blaze as you walk in a daze, And the hags of the pavement grin, And Snow, no doubt, will let you out, But the grave will suck you in!
107
TIME PASSES. CORA WALKS THROUGH.
KEN* The night editor just asked me to have a word with you, that’s - (RUNNING AFTER JOE) Joe, wait! Wait!
JOE Keep away from me, I’m contagious.
KEN They think your cartoons are getting too dark, too pessimistic, that’s all.
JOE Isn’t that remarkable? Everywhere I look I see people chasing their own tails, terrified that if they stop averting their eyes they’ll know. Know that they’re merely suspended over nothingness, held by...What? A thought, a whim? ...Merely suspended over - nothingness. Very difficult to etch your name in thin air. You know.
KEN No. No, I don’t. I don’t know. Lay off the grog. Do something.
UNDERSCORING. CORA APPROACHES KEN. *SHE SEEMS DRUNK, DOPED... LOST...
CORA Oi. Kenneth. Do you still see your mate?
KEN Hello. Yes. Yes.
108
CORA
Yeah, well, you might like to say hello to him for me. (PAUSE) Tell him I’m well and truly on the straight and narrow.
KEN Is that right...Cora... well - he’ll be pleased.
CORA Away from all me old influences type of thing.
KEN Will I tell him what you’re doing?
CORA *(LYING) Actually quite a lot of mannequining. Quite a lot. Some very well-to-do fashion joints. Something I’ve always wanted...it’s good, I do it all over the place. Lots of luck in it, right time right place - you know.
KEN Well, that’s very good.
CORA Oh yeah, it’s good alright.
KEN I’ll pass on the message, then. Good luck.
CORA Yeah, of course, you can’t have too much of that. My mother used to say, “Luck’s never something run in our family. ‘If it was raining palaces, we’d be hit on the head by a dunny door.’” Ta darling.
109
KIMONO CORA
CORA She wears a pearl necklace, her rubies are reckless, You’d never suspect they were glass... Sour perfume still lingers, there’s dirt on her fingers, And grease on the edge of her shirt... Kimono Cora’s come back. Kimono Cora’s come back. To her dirt and her debts and her stale cigarettes, And a pile of foul plates in her track, Well, stars are reflected in quagmires And wines don’t depend on the cup, And Cora emerges in satins and serges, From mystery seven floors up. Kimono Cora’s come back. Kimono Cora’s come back. And stars are reflected in quagmires And wines don’t depend on the cup.
110
FRANK AND MABEL.
FRANK I read this cartoon, would’ve been a good while back. It goes...the girl - they’re courting on a farm, she’s thinking of rings, she’s staring at her ring finger, “How do you feel about platinum?” He’s a real Dave, gazing off into the paddock. “Well,” he says, “It takes a lot of time, but it sure makes their tails look nice.” Well, Mabel...How do you feel about platinum?
MABEL (TURNING TO FACE HIM) Frank...
JOE IS HOLDING A JOURNAL.
JOE Had a few things knocked off from my room. Finding somewhere else.
KEN Nothing wrong?
JOE No. I’m off the grog.
KEN What’s this?
JOE Oh, bits and pieces. A few sketches I’m fond of.
KEN (TURNING PAGES) May I?
111
FRANK
...I mightn’t seem like real good prospects, I realise that, but I’ve got my sights set. I’m going back to make a go of it - you and I got hitched, well...it’d make a lot of sense. (PAUSE) By crikey I’ll look after you. You won’t know yourself...
FRANK (cont.) (PAUSE) You’re meant to say something.
KEN (READING) The lock’s been sawn off...
JOE My dark old drinking days.
KEN (READING) Ways to describe the Cross. You don’t mind?
JOE Go for your life.
KEN “A golden egg was mysteriously laid, and out we burst... William Street, and Darlinghurst on wet and shiny nights...”
JOE “...People stepping on their own reflections...”
MABEL Frank, I wouldn’t be any good, you want someone stable - not like me...
112
FRANK
No. I want you.
MABEL I’m not ready to go back, or something. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, but I’m sorry...I’m not ready for a double harness (MANAGES TO GET A SMILE OUT OF HIM) I’m real sorry. Maybe you’re the right fella, but -
FRANK What, is it because I’m not flush. You won’t want for a thing.
MABEL
It’s got nothing to do with that.
FRANK You want me to wait or something.
MABEL No Frank, I’m sorry.
FRANK Right, well I imagine I’ll head up home. Actually might all work out for the best. Girl in the Star Cafe back home’s been pestering me with letters just lately, hadn’t thought about her for a while, but - any rate, probably all just as well. Look after yourself.
MABEL Look after yourself, Frank.
113
JOE Could you hang onto it for a bit? (THE JOURNAL) Just until I’m settled?
KEN Well, yes. “She clings to the tatters of uncomformity. The Cross was - was? - safe and beautiful and she loved us ...The red pulsating arrow, top o’ William Street...”
JOE Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.
MABEL IS BACK UP AT HER FLAT. SHE WATCHES FRANK WHO IS ABOUT TO LEAVE. UNDERSCORING. FRANK TAKES OUT CHALK. WRITES ON THE GROUND. “I WAS HERE”. KEN WATCHES, HOLDING JOE’S JOURNAL. JOE DISAPPEARS. (KEN MOVES DS - SEE WHAT FRANK HAS WRITTEN.)
KEN (READS FROM JOURNAL) “Brassy and respectable, a refuge for a wound-licking...” *(READS THE FLOOR) “I was here.”
114
MABEL
(WRITING) You see, the day I arrived here I knew I was in a special place at a special time, and that if I turned round it’d all disappear. I’ve never felt in the centre of anything before, and now I am. (SHE LOOKS DOWN) I could fly to work I’m that close. I’d be happy if it went on and on forever, I would.
Five stories down, a fiery hedge, The stars of Sydney loom, But the stars burn on the window ledge Up in Mabel’s Room. There Mr Neon’s nebulae Are constantly on view, The starlight falls entirely free, The moon is always blue. A burning sword, a blazing spear, Go floating down the night, And flagons of electric beer, And alphabets of light. The moon and stars of Choker’s lane, Like planets lost in fume, But you - you’ll never see these things Up in Mabel’s room...
115
MUSIC. FIVE BELLS. JOE SLOWLY FILLS HIS COAT POCKETS WITH BEER BOTTLES.
JOE Come to the party. We’re taking the last ferry to Mosman. Very literati, possibly lunatici. Topic for the evening is...humorous battle cries of Imperial Rome. Come on.
KEN No, I don’t think so. You didn’t invite me. Not like that.
JOE Come on!
KEN Wait! (PAUSE) You were just sitting on the rail, with your pockets full of bottles? Did you say you could swim there faster? Why try to swim with...
JOE Come on.
KEN You won’t make it to the quay, it’s nearly ten.
JOE I knew you wouldn’t. Loan me the cab-fare.
KEN What? No.
JOE Just five bob. Undo!
KEN (AS HE DOES SO) No.
116
JOE
Just for that I’ll wave to you when we round the point. I’ll see you in your window and wave. (AS HE GOES) This is a land meant for great poetry - one day you’ll surprise yourself.
KEN Why are you telling me this now?
JOE Because you’re not coming to the party.
JOE LEAVES. MUSIC. HE STANDS IN THE HARBOUR.
KEN Was it what you expected? Was it a surprise when...when you...hit the water? The memory of some bones, shoved away and sucked away in mud.
Where have you gone? The tide is over you, As time is over you, And memory, the flood that does not flow, And you are only part of an Idea.
THE HARBOUR BEGINS TO BE LIT. THE LIGHTS OF THE CROSS, OF MABEL’S ROOM, TAKE OUR ATTENTION, TAKE KEN’S ATTENTION.
117
JOE WAVES. MUSIC.
KEN I felt the wet push its black thumbballs in, The night you died, I felt your ear-drums crack, ...But I was bound, and could not go that way ...But I was blind, and could not feel your hand.
THE LIGHTS OF DARLINGHURST DISAPPEAR.
(SUNG) I looked out of my window in the dark At waves with diamond quills and combs of light That arched their mackerel backs and smacked the sand ...And tried to hear your voice, but all I heard Was a boat’s whistle, and the scraping squeal Of seabirds voices far away, and bells, Five bells. Five bells coldly ringing out.
THE END
