Belle Moral: A Natural History (11 page)

P
EARL
. Winkles.

F
LORA
. Winkles?

P
EARL
. I must have them, tell Wee Farleigh – or no, I’ll tell him myself.

F
LORA
. What’s the matter with the lass? Queasy one moment, craving winkles the next, it’s almost as though she were … Seamus, you haven’t!

D
R
R
EID
. of course not, Flora.

F
LORA
. Then …?

D
R
R
EID
. It is just possible that Pearl is exhibiting early signs of a psychosomatic ailment.

F
LORA…
. How did she catch it?

D
R
R
EID
. Dear Flora. There is every reason to hope that Pearl’s symptoms will disappear once she is wed, and at last free from the shadow of her well-intentioned father.
[Taking her hand.]
I’m sorry if I was hard on you, old friend. I must be cruel to be kind.

F
LORA
. Seamus, how do you aim to keep your promise?

D
R
R
EID
. What promise?

F
LORA
. You said you’d show her where you got the ear.

D
R
R
EID
. Pearl can be made to know what, without having to know who.

T
HE
B
RIDE
. Look what I found at the top of the Caucasian steps.

V
ICTOR
. Aonaibh ri cheile.

T
HE
B
RIDE
. I would, but it’s too blurry.

Next morning
. P
EARL
lies, dishevelled on the couch, a cold cloth on her forehead
. V
ICTOR
enters, pristine and jaunty, in travelling clothes
.

V
ICTOR
. Well, I’m off. Goodbye, Pearl.

P
EARL
. Victor –
[moving to sit up, but finding it advisable not to]
.

V
ICTOR
. You look like you’re about to upthrow, shall I fetch a bucket?

P
EARL
. Don’t you dare go off down to the pub again, you’re terribly ill. Tell Wee Farleigh to bring me a basket of brioches. And a pickled egg.

V
ICTOR
. Don’t worry, Pearl, I’m not off down the pub, I’m just off. I’m leaving.
[calling off]
Wee Far –

P
EARL
. Shush – wait – what? Why?

V
ICTOR
. I’ve a good deal of work that needs avoiding. I may even begin not-writing my novel.

P
EARL
. You can do that here. We’ll make you a garret as drafty and uncomfortable as you like.

V
ICTOR
. My mind’s made up.

P
EARL
. You’re not planning to leap into the sea, Victor, promise me –

V
ICTOR
[jovial]
. I’m not deep enough for despair, Pearl, the most I can muster is a cheerful self-loathing. I promise to kill myself very, very slowly.

P
EARL
. You’ll need money, if you wait a few weeks I’ll be able to –

V
ICTOR
. Thanks, but I’m a boyishly handsome, shite-talking Scotsman with a well-endowed mythopoetical faculty. A mirror for the folly of others, a delightful extra man at table. There’s always men willing to stand me drinks, and women … well I’m no’ proud of it.

P
EARL
. What about your phobia? What if you run into a dog?

V
ICTOR
. I’m not convinced it’s the dogs, Pearl. I think I’m allergic to this house.
[Sniffs, will he sneeze?]
So I’ll take me chances. Besides, all the best artists have fits. If I can’t have the talent, at least I’ll have the temperament.

P
EARL
. Where will you go?

V
ICTOR
. Australia? Canada? A lot of worthless young men do quite well out there.

P
EARL
[fierce]
. Victor, this is my house and I damn well give you half. Don’t go.

V
ICTOR
. I love you, Pearl. [a
beat]
Good luck with the natural history. And the unnatural history. Thank you for the puppy. Sorry about the ear.

P
EARL
. So it was you.

V
ICTOR
. It wasn’t, but I’m willing to sign a blank cheque of apology.

P
EARL
. Well if it wasn’t you, then who –?

D
R
R
EID
. Good morning, Pearl, good morning Victor.

V
ICTOR
[congenial]
. Good morning, Dr Jekyll.

D
R
R
EID.
Don’t get up, my dear.

P
EARL
. I must look a fright.

D
R
R
EID.
You look lovely.

V
ICTOR
. She looks like a dog’s breakfast.

D
R
R
EID.
Did you take the powders this morning as I prescribed?

V
ICTOR
. I sold them to an itinerant drug fiend.

D
R
R
EID
. How’s the nausea?

P
EARL
. The nausea’s fine, excellent.

D
R
R
EID
. Good. No … cravings?

P
EARL
. None.

V
ICTOR
. Shall I fetch a haggis with the brioches?

D
R
R
EID
[handing her the bouquet]
. These are for you.

P
EARL
. Oh, Dr Reid, they’re lovely.

V
ICTOR
. They’re poppies.

D
R
R
EID.
From my own garden.

F
LORA
. This brew always restored your mother when she was –
[sees the others]
.

V
ICTOR
. Auntie, farewell.

F
LORA
. You’re never leaving us?

V
ICTOR
. Duty calls, I’ve taken a commission in the Queen’s Own Rifles.

D
R
R
EID.
You have?

V
ICTOR
. I’ve done no such thing.

F
LORA
. What is it, Pearl? Do you smell something? Is it the painting again?

P
EARL
. I’m perfectly well, if a tad forfochen; that woman kept me up half the nicht. Night.

F
LORA
. What woman?

P
EARL
. The woman weeping. I looked out my window but couldn’t get a glimpse of her. A woman from the estate, no doubt; drunk and disorderly.

F
LORA
. I didna hear a woman.

P
EARL
. You must have.

V
ICTOR
. You heard my dream, Pearl.

F
LORA
. You heard the banshee.

P
EARL
. The banshee?

F
LORA
. The banshee only sings to a chosen one.

V
ICTOR
. chosen for what?

F
LORA
. To receive a warnin’ of the great change.

P
EARL
. Menopause?

F
LORA
. When the banshee wails, it means that someone will soon cross over to the other side.

V
ICTOR
. I dreamt it was your dream, Pearl.

P
EARL
. Shutup, Victor.

F
LORA
. Your ancestors are tryin’ to tell you something.

V
ICTOR
[to F
LORA]
. That’s ‘cause
you
never tell us
anything
.

D
R
R
EID.
Pearl, a degree of correspondence in dreams is not unheard of. You are siblings, after all, and have recently shared the ordeal of your father’s death, and the aftershock of his will.

P
EARL
. Thank you, Seamus.

V
ICTOR
. It’s “Seamus” now, is it? Since when?

P
EARL
. Victor. Doctor Reid has asked me to marry him.

V
ICTOR
[to D
R
R
EID]
. I didn’t hear you ask my permission.

P
EARL
. Don’t be ridiculous, Victor.

V
ICTOR
[alarmed]
. Don’t marry him, Pearl.

P
EARL
. I’ll marry whom I please.

V
ICTOR
. He’s tryin’ to creep into Father’s shoes and your bed besides.

P
EARL
. You’re disgusting.

V
ICTOR
. He wants to wrap you in his formaldehyde embrace and put you in a jar on his laboratory shelf.

P
EARL
. If it wasn’t for Dr Reid, you’d be walking about dead right now, he’s your best friend in the world!

V
ICTOR
. He’s a corp-liftin’ ghoul and he’s bullied Auntie Flora into league with him! Has he given you a ring? Or has he got a different gift tucked away for you in his bag of tricks? Perhaps one of his magic potions he’s been longing to prick you with!
[Snatching
DR R
EID
’s medical bag.]

P
EARL
. Victor –!

V
ICTOR
[rifling it]
. Ha-ha!
[Holding up a scalpel.]
Performed any field surgery lately? As well to have it on hand in case you encounter a promising two-headed calf, eh?

D
R
R
EID.
Victor, my boy, give me the scalpel.

V
ICTOR
[dropping the bag, brandishing the scalpel, deadly earnest]
. Tell me the truth.

D
R
R
EID.
I don’t know what you –

V
ICTOR
. The truth about my family! The “burden”, the “horror”! I heard you on the attic stairs, there’s not a corner of this house you’ve no’ pissed in and defiled, tell me or I’ll cut your throat!

P
EARL
[enraged]
. I’ll tell you the secret, Victor! It was your precious mother. She was mad, and it’s coming out in you, and it would come out in my curs’ed progeny. Dr Reid wants to marry me to shield me from it; to be on hand when you spiral into the pit, so that you may rave within the confines of Belle Moral and not some forsaken madhouse!

V
ICTOR
[stricken]
. Is it true, Auntie?

Was she mad? According to whom? To you, Doctor? And what did you do? Put her away in your asylum? Why? Did you want her for yourself? Did you have her?
[grief-stricken]
Did she die there?

D
R
R
EID
[approaching with needle]
. Victor, lad –

F
LORA
. Victor, sweetheart –

V
ICTOR
[fending her off with the scalpel, furious]
. No!

F
LORA
[running after him]
. Victor –!

D
R
R
EID
[alarmed]
. Flora, no!

P
EARL
. Auntie!

F
LORA
. He’s like to drown himself in truth this time –!

D
R
R
EID
. We’ll see that doesn’t happen
[pulling the bell cord]
we’ll send Wee Farleigh.

P
EARL
. Doctor … if I go mad –

D
R
R
EID
. You won’t –

P
EARL
. If I go mad I want you to promise me –
[covering her nose and mouth] –
I know you can’t smell it. I know what’s happening to me.

D
R
R
EID
. My dear, you’ve been under a terrible strain –

P
EARL
[controlling her terror]
. It’s in me too – the flaw – and it will out. It’s begun already.

D
R
R
EID
. Pearl –