Humble Boy (3 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Jones

BOOK: Humble Boy
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Flora
   I take it she's not a fan of the big band.

George
   Christ no! I love her to bits but she's like her mother. Born without an ounce of swing.

Flora laughs. Pause.

George
   This is good, Flora. Being out here with you.

Flora
   Yes.

George
   I could get used to this. Flora –

Flora
   (
interrupting
) You haven't said anything, George.

George
   Eh?

Flora
   The bruising's completely gone down now.

George
   What?

Flora
   My nose.

George
   (
mock surprise
) Bloody hell!

Flora
   What?

George
   It's magnificent!

Flora
   You hadn't even noticed.

George
   I had. I was just savouring it. It's bloody tremendous. It's positively Roman.

Flora
   It's not Roman. I didn't ask for Roman.

George
   When I say Roman, I mean … Neopolitan.

Flora
   Neopolitan?

George
   Yes! The Neopolitan nose is soft, with delicately flared nostrils and a certain very appealing button-mushroom quality. As far as noses go, it's a bloody classic. It's the Lamborghini of noses.

Flora
   Yes, but is it me?

George
   Let me see … And the other side. Yes. It's definitely you.

Flora
   I mean, does it suit me?

George
   You're a vision of loveliness.

Flora
   I don't think I like it.

George
   Oh bun! After all that.

Flora
   Oh, I mean the nose is fine. The nose is quite pleasing, but I'm not sure if my face lives up to it. Somehow it makes the rest of me look – tired. I might need a little lift.

She pulls her skin back and up. George takes her hand away.

George
   You look fine to me.

Flora
   Well, you're biased. Hand me my cream before my wrinkles reach the point of no return.

George
   Let me. (
He puts sun-cream on her face.
)

Flora
   Ah yes, anoint me. That's nice.

George
   Oh Flora.

Flora
   Please don't get ardent, George. It's only half past twelve.

George
   You know what I want, damn it. I know it's too soon, but, I mean bloody hell. I've been waiting in the wings for a long time now.

Flora
   I know.

George
   And it doesn't come naturally to me. I'm not a back-seat driver, Flora. It's a terrible shame, a shock about James and everything but you've been worrying about telling him for so long, I think we should just do it. Grab it by the balls. We can wait a few months, but let's not piss about, the sooner the better, bun. Anyway I've already got you the ring.

Flora
   Really?

George
   I'll make you bloody happy. The words ‘pig' and ‘shit' spring to mind. In a more classy sort of way.

Flora
   You're such a romantic, George.

George
   How do you want me to do it? On bended knee?

Flora
   Please don't, George, you might never get up again.

George
   I'll swing from the ruddy trees if you want. Shout it from the rooftops, thatched or otherwise.

Flora
   This is a small place, George.

George
   I don't give a bishop's bollock what anyone thinks.

Flora
   George!

George
   I mean bloody hell, Flora. It's not as if you were happy with him.

Flora
   Please don't talk about that.

George
   He was dull. You told me he was dull.

Flora
   That was the wrong word to use.

George
   Look, lover, we've both paid our dues and neither of us is getting any younger.

Flora
   I don't need reminding of that.

George
   (
pleadingly
) Bunny, please …

Flora
   Show me the ring.

He takes the box out. She looks at it.

George
   It's a black opal. Bloody unusual, apparently. I can change it if you don't like it.

Flora
   Is it old?

George
   Antique.

Flora
   Mm. What sort of ring did Mary have?

George
   I don't remember, it was years ago, some cheap thing, we were completely brassic at the time –

Flora
   I'm not ready for another ring.

George
   It's not Mary's ring. Rosie has that.

Flora
   I don't like the idea of someone having worn it before.

George
   I can change it, get a new one. I knew I should have let you choose. I've got bugger-all taste.

Flora
   A diamond might have been nicer. (
She closes the ring box and hands it back to him.
)

George
   Is this a no?

Flora
   No. I'll have to think.

George
   Is this a provisional yes?

Flora
   We'd have to wait a bit. Till after – till the end of summer.

George
   You're a star.

Flora
   You'd have to make an effort. With Felix. I know he's – but I don't want any more upset. I can't take it.

George
   I like Felix. We just got off on the wrong foot.

Flora
   What about Rosie?

George
   She wants what I want.

Flora
   But after what happened between her and Felix?

George
   Water under the proverbial.

Flora
   I haven't ever spoken to Rosie. Properly, I mean.

George
   Rosie's not a problem. She wants her old dad to be happy. They're both old enough and wise enough –

Flora
   Yes, I suppose so.

George
   We'll have a little party, invite them all.

Flora
   Nothing showy.

George
   No, no, discreet. My middle name.

Flora
   Yes. It's about time we all got civilised.

George
   Absolutely.

Flora
   This is not a yes.

George gets the rose he picked earlier and gives it to her.

George
   It's enough.

She takes the rose, smiles and smells it. Felix enters the garden. He watches his mother. He is wearing his cricket whites but with an old-fashioned coloured tank top over them.

Flora
   That's funny.

George
   What?

Flora
   Doesn't smell of anything.

He takes the flower and smells it.

George
   'Course it does.

Flora
   No. It doesn't. (
She goes to the bush, smells the rest of the flowers.
)

Felix
   Mother?

Flora
   Felix! Darling. You made me jump. Come and join us. Felix, you remember George Pye, Rosie's father?

Felix
   Yes. I do.

George
   Felix. I was just offering my condolences. I'm very sorry about your father's –

Felix
   Yes.

Flora
   Thank you, George. (
to Felix
) You're back very early.

Felix
   Half-day closing.

Flora
   On a Monday?

Felix
   Jean is a very whimsical woman.

She looks at him oddly.

Flora
   What is that top you're wearing?

Felix
   Perk of the job.

Flora
   It doesn't suit you, darling. Felix has been helping Mercy out at the charity shop. I'm not sure why.

Felix
   Apparently I'm a natural. Jean says I've got a job for life, if I want. I shifted more in two hours than Mercy does in a week.

George
   Oh yes?

Felix
   But then it's for a good cause. The Romanian orphans. And I have a particular affinity with them, being half way to orphan status myself. I like the secondhand nature of it all. Used goods do have a special appeal all of their own, don't they? (
He spots the jug of drink.
) Ah, nectar! It's a scorcher today, isn't it? Of course it's the summer solstice. The longest day. It's all downhill from now on. (
He helps himself to a drink.
)

Flora
   (
a slight edge
) You're very honey-tongued today, Felix … But I think you should calm yourself, don't you?

Felix
   Oh I am calm. I am wonderful. And you are looking ravishing, Mother, if I may say so.

Flora
   Thank you.

Felix
   Not even a hint of widow's weeds.

Flora laughs.

Flora
   (
a little forced
) He's only joking.

Felix
   Oh yes, it's all in jest. Now how are you? How is your fleet, George Pye?

George
   What?

Felix
   Pye's Coaches.

George
   Well, I'm semi-retired now. Some other bugger does the dog work for me. I still do the odd Oxford run though, if we're short. I'm not proud. Can't quite hang up the old driving gloves, you see.

Felix
   No, I bet you can't. What was the legend now? ‘Travel Pye –' don't tell me – ‘travel Pye –'

George
   (
pleased
) ‘– if you want to fly.' ‘Travel Pye if you want to fly.'

Felix
   Ah yes. A fleet of Flying Pyes. Did you come up with that?

George
   I did, as a matter of fact.

Felix
   Genius. Absolutely inspired.

George
   Thank you very much.

Felix
   Only thing is, I remember being rather disappointed the first time I travelled on one of your coaches. It was all curiously earthbound, you see. Not at all P–pye-in-the-sky-ish. But then you weren't driving. Perhaps they needed George himself at the helm to really make them lift off.

Flora
   It's just as well, Felix. You don't really have a head for heights.

George
   When are you going back to your – erm, studies?

Flora
   He hasn't completely decided, have you? A little break will do him good.

George
   Astrology, isn't it?

Felix
   What?

George
   Your bag. Astrology.

Felix
   No.

Flora
   It's like astrology, darling. It's not a million miles away.

Felix
   Theoretical astrophysics. I think the differences between the two could be measured in light years.

George
   It's all the same to me.

Flora
   And me. But he's a clever boy.

George
   Don't believe in it myself, anyway.

Felix
   What?

George
   Horoscopes. A load of balls.

Felix
   Really? I bet you're a Taurean then, aren't you?

George
   (
as if he is getting the joke
) Ah! Yes! Good one.

Felix
   Yes, definitely Taurus, the b–bull. Born in the month of May. When's your birthday, George Pye? When's his b–birthday, Mother?

Flora
   Well, you know, it is May. It is May, isn't it, George? But you could be on the cusp.

Felix
   Bullseye. Perhaps you're right, George Pye. Perhaps astrology is, after all, my b–bag. Here I was thinking that all the other sciences were woolly and descriptive, that there was something p–pure and exact and fundamental about theoretical physics, that it would unveil for me the secrets of the universe but now I see I was mistaken. I should have got myself a sparkly waistcoat and a pair of coloured contact lenses and started b–bandying a few predictions about. At the summer solstice, with the happy conjunction of Venus and Saturn, all Taureans born on the cusp will find themselves going out on a romantic limb.

Flora
   Stop it, Felix.

George
   Look, son –

Felix
   I am not your son. Did you know my father well?

George
   In passing … Your father was a very decent man.

Felix
   Decent. Decent? Yes. I'm compiling a list of adjectives, you see. My father's true nature is proving very difficult to pin down. Decent. Upright. Upstanding. Clean-living. Respectable. But not b–brave, no, we wouldn't go as far as b–brave. No, brave doesn't come into it. Just outside the spectrum. Although there is passion there, yes, give him his dues, he was passionate about his bees.

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