Belle Moral: A Natural History (9 page)

P
EARL
[bellowing to off]
. Wee Farleigh!

W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
. Out frolicking, Miss.

P
EARL
. Well find it and beat it. No. Put it in a sack and drown it. What’s that?

W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
[formal, well-mannered, yet somehow seductive]
. Breakfast, Miss. Earl Gray tea. Coddled eggs. Brioche –

P
EARL
. What?

W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
. A bun. Only better.

P
EARL
. Oh. [a
beat]
Well, take it away, I’m … 
[wave of nausea]
.

W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
. Feeling poorly, Miss?

P
EARL
. Do as I say.

W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
. Ay, Miss.

F
LORA
and
D
R
R
EID
enter, heading for the attic stairs
. W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
enters with a pot of coffee
. F
LORA
and
D
R
R
EID
step back out of sight, allowing
W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
to cross before they mount the stairs, resuming their conversation:

F
LORA
. I was wushin’ the poor creature in the tub–

D
R
R
EID
. The tub?

F
LORA
. In the old nursery – not to worry, it’s quite out of the way – I’d doffed ma dress, if ye maun know, down to ma linens so’s not to drench mis-sel, and scarce had I turned my back when she lifted ma keys.
[A touch of admiration.]
For a’ that she’s meek, she’s clever.

D
R
R
EID
[admonishing]
. She’s cunning. What if she’d –?

F
LORA
. There was no harm done.

D
R
R
EID
. Next time get Wee Farleigh to help you with the bathing.

F
LORA
. Wee Farleigh? That’s hardly decent.

D
R
R
EID
. And in future, confine her ablutions to the attic. Use a basin. Do not lavish upon her, luxuries to which she is insensible.

F
LORA
. Ach, I was anerly tryin to make the poor lamb presentable.

D
R
R
EID
. For whom?

F
LORA
. Why, for Pearl.

D
R
R
EID
. Need you tell her at all?

F
LORA
. She’ll have to know now she’s mistress here.

D
R
R
EID
. Not necessarily. Not if I am master.

F
LORA
. Ach Seamus, you’re old enough to be the lassie’s faither.

D
R
R
EID
. And that is what I shall be to her. A second father. I shall guide her studies and stimulate her mind to fructify as her womb never shall.

F
LORA
. Ay, but … 
[resisting tears]
I always pictured a bonnie lad. One who’d awaken her heart and bring a flush to her cheek, a sigh to her lips –

D
R
R
EID
. She’s thirty-two years old, Flora. Barren and waist-deep in the sands of time.

F
LORA
. Ay, so she’s old enough to hear the truth.

D
R
R
EID
. She’s a woman for a’ that.

F
LORA
. As am I, and have I not borne the horror of it?

D
R
R
EID
. Ay but the horror does not lurk within your very loins.

F
LORA
[stung]. How would you know the first thing about my loins? Mayhap the flaw did come from my brother’s side, he was the one with the Faery hair!

D
R
R
EID
. Not yet. For heaven’s sake, Flora, I am proposing to lift the burden from your shoulders, to shield this family from calumny and pain, is not that your dearest wish and mine?

F
LORA
. Ay …

P
EARL
is seated, leaning forward, head between her knees
. V
ICTOR
rushes on
.

V
ICTOR
. Pearl, I must have a talk with you –! What’s the matter?

P
EARL
[sitting up]
. You look like a dog’s breakfast.

V
ICTOR
. You’re white as a sheet.

P
EARL
. I am blanched with disappointment, but quite prepared to hear your apology.

V
ICTOR
. For what?

P
EARL
. You know perfectly well for what, you and your petty revenge, I had nothing to do with Father’s will, Victor, it came as just as much of a shock to me as it did to you.

V
ICTOR
. I don’t care about the damn will.

P
EARL
. Well you ought to.
[Pointedly returning to her work.]
Don’t worry, I’ll have Abbott arrange a suitable annuity for you.

V
ICTOR
. Fine. Pearl –

P
EARL
. You’ll not have a penny for liquor though, my boy.

V
ICTOR
. I’ll drink myself to death if I damn well please.

P
EARL
. Not on my money, you won’t.

V
ICTOR
. I don’t want your stinkin’ money.

P
EARL
. No brother of mine will traipse about like a bohemian; I’ll no’ give you the satisfaction of being poor.

V
ICTOR
. Do shutup –

P
EARL
. And I’ll thank you not to go rummaging among my specimens.

V
ICTOR
. I wouldn’t touch your gruesome specimens with a ten-foot pole.

P
EARL
. You were in fooling with the ear last night.

V
ICTOR
. I was not – What “ear”?

P
EARL
. This ear, here! You’re lucky it didn’t turn to jelly overnight.

V
ICTOR
. I never touched it.

P
EARL
. You did.

V
ICTOR
. I didna.

P
EARL
. Did so.

V
ICTOR
. Did –

P
EARL
. How many opposable digits are there in this household?!

V
ICTOR
. What?

P
EARL
. Thumbs! Mankind’s distinguishing tool; thumbs! wrought by aeons of natural selection; thumbs! to raise us up above the beasts.

V
ICTOR
. Where is he?

P
EARL
. Don’t worry, Victor, Wee Farleigh’s got him on a leash. At the bottom of the pond.

V
ICTOR
. I hope it does come out in you.

P
EARL
. What?

V
ICTOR
. The “flaw”, the family curse.

P
EARL
. What do you know about it?

V
ICTOR
. I heard Dr Reid talking to Auntie Flora. She wants to tell you the truth about our family, and he won’t let her. He’s up to something.

P
EARL
. I know the truth.

V
ICTOR
. You do? What is it?

P
EARL
[dismissive]
. I can’t tell you, you couldn’t take the shock.

V
ICTOR
. I could too, I’m as much a man as you. Pearl, I’ve a right to know.

P
EARL
. It’s for your own good, Victor.

Victor. Tell me.

P
EARL
. No.

V
ICTOR
. Tell me.

P
EARL
. Nay.

V
ICTOR
. I’ll make you –
[grabbing the jar]
.

P
EARL
. Give it –!

F
LORA
, P
EARL
,
and
W
EE
F
ARLEIGH
are gathered round
V
ICTOR
who goes limp on the couch
. D
R
R
EID
.
withdraws the needle from
V
ICTOR’S
arm and returns it to his medical bag
.

D
R
R
EID.
These fits are a terrible strain on the heart.

F
LORA
. Pearl, why did you let your brother look at the ear?

P
EARL
. I didn’t “let” him do anything, Auntie, he’s a grown man. What are we to do, Doctor, he can’t go on like this, what’s to become of him out in the world, hysterical and swallowing his tongue every five minutes, is there no cure?

D
R
R
EID.
For hysteria in the male? Not yet.

P
EARL
. If he were a woman you could snip out his uterus and be done with it.

D
R
R
EID.
There are specialists in Europe.

P
EARL
. Where?

D
R
R
EID
. At the Sal Petrière in Paris. They’ve had promising results with the galvanic battery, but –

F
LORA
. We’ll no’ send your brother to be keyed awa’ in a fremmit loony hoos!

D
R
R
EID.
Dear Flora, there is no reason why you should be capable of imagining the fear, the keening sorrow, the harm that awaits a patient like Victor should his illness go untreated. But I have seen it, and all too often.

P
EARL
. Doctor, I would accompany my brother to the antipodes and back if I thought it would cure him, but I cannot pin my hopes on an
asylum, whether here or on the continent –Victor would become completely hysterical if we sought to admit him for so much as a consultation.

D
R
R
EID
. Mm. Puts me in mind of an old case history I came across recently. A patient faced the prospect of living out her days in a cheerless institution, or dwelling amid her family who were quite ill-equipped to provide for her … unusual medical needs. So the physician in the case offered to take the patient in and care for her in his own home.

P
EARL
. Doctor, such an offer – if that is what you intend – surpasses generosity, but I cannot see Victor consenting to such an arrangement.

D
R
R
EID
. Nor, frankly, can I.

F
LORA
[apprehensive]
. And did he?

D
R
R
EID
. What’s that, Flora?

F
LORA
. Did the Doctor take her in?

D
R
R
EID
. oh, as it happened, he was called away, and the family was left to bear their burden alone. It ended badly, I’m afraid.

P
EARL
. Don’t worry, Auntie, I’ll not send Victor away, nor will he languish here. If we cannot go to the asylum, let the asylum come to us. We’ll import the finest therapies, regardless of expense, and rearrange Belle Moral
to suit his needs. I’ll make an artist’s studio for him in the attic, see to it he doesn’t indulge excessively in spirits, we’ll purge the estate of dogs, and Dr Reid will direct his care, won’t you, Doctor?

D
R
R
EID
. Of course. I’ll make regular house calls. In between my other commitments. And providing I am not called away to the continent.

P
EARL
. You see, Auntie? Everything will be all right.