ACT 2
Scene 1 Front of Stage
Munro is sitting at desk left.
When I finally got to hear of that little ‘altercation’ at Greenstraight, I’ll be damned if I could find anyone willing to talk about it. In the end, this was all I was able to write: [reads, with some irony]
“It was on New Years Day 1902 that the fishermen aroused themselves to take energetic action. They amalgamated with the men of Beesands, a village nearby also affected, and declared that they would not permit the dredger being used. The threat had the desired effect, and the dredger was seen no more on that part of the coast.”
In fact, although the villagers didn’t know it, the Board of Trade had already written to Sir John Jackson revoking his licence, which is probably why they never felt the long arm of the law. And then, when the dredging had stopped, something unexpected began to happen…
The room is sparsely furnished, with three armchairs. Edith is sitting in one, surrounded by dolls and toys, absorbed in sewing and fitting clothes to a doll. Her back is turned to the door, so she does not see Tom enter. He watches her in silence, shaking his head.
Tom: Evening.
Edith: [Looks at him briefly, then returns to her sewing]. Hello Tom.
Tom: Is that another new doll?
Edith: No.
Tom: I don’t know what you’re doing with so much of this stuff. Can I take some of it upstairs?
[He picks up a few toys. She gives him a hostile look and he puts them down again]
Have you been down the beach recently?
[She shakes her head.
He takes hold of her, puts the doll down and kisses her]
You shouldn’t be spending all your time in here, you know. I was looking at the beach as the boat was coming in – it looks different from the sea – and I noticed what some o’ them have been saying, that the sand seems to be coming back. You remember that great hole they left next to Wilsons’ Rock? It’s filling up again – not quite like before but I was looking at it, thinking…maybe we’re going to be all right…eh? [kisses her again]
Edith: So your Da were right, then? [Standing up] Er still not talking to ‘ee?
Tom: No, he isn’t.
Edith: Ee could always try talking to ‘im.
Tom: He started all this. It doesn’t bother me if I never speak to him again.
Edith: Don’t it?
Avoiding a reply, he picks up a book and begins to read
Tom: What’ve you got for tea?
Edith: I were gonna do that conger, when I be finished.
Tom looks as though he is about to say something sharp, then
stops himself and returns to his reading for a few moments. Then, unable to concentrate, he watches her
working on the doll.
Tom: Edie?
Edith: Yiss?
Tom: I saw your cousin Jack today.
Edith: Ay?
Tom: It seems he and Bessie are having a hard time of it at the moment. Bessie han’t been too good lately, and now his boat’s laid up. He were down here working for Jim Trout. Takes a lot, to feed ten mouths.
Edith: Ay.
Tom: Edie? Are you listening to me?
[She looks up]
He knows our situation.
Edith: Don’t everyone?
Tom: I think he had another reason for working Hallsands today. It came out a bit strange but…he had a suggestion to make. [Waits for her to respond, which she does not] Have you seen Freddie, their youngest one?
Edith: Erm, think so…when er was a baby.
Tom: He was wondering, whether he might not be better off brought up by someone else. Like you and me, for example. [She puts the doll aside and looks at him] It’s been five years now, han’t it?
Edith: Five years…
Tom: It wouldn’t stop us trying…well say something…you’d need to go and talk to Bessie…Edie?
Edith: Wha’?
Tom: D’you feel up to this at the moment?
Edith: [Stands, looking dazed] I’ll go make tea.
He walks over and puts his arms around her
Tom: Will you think about it?
[She looks up at him and nods. He picks up one of the dolls, kisses her on one cheek then the doll ‘kisses’ her on the other]
And I don’t suppose he’ll be wanting these.
She smiles uncertainly at him as the lights fade.
Scene 3 Tom
& Edith’s Front Room 1903
Tom is sitting reading, under a lamp. There is a storm outside, with waves sometimes
containing shingle, crashing against the house. Edith enters, picks up a child’s clothes which she is repairing,
and sits down.
Tom: Has he gone to sleep?
Edith: ‘Is lill eyes were jest closin’ when I left ‘im. Er don’t like the storm – er were talkin’ ‘bout a sea monster eatin’ im. That must be all they stories ‘ee keep telling ‘im. I said ‘e’d be all right – sea monsters like their food clean. Actually, I shouldn’t o’ said that – er’ll never wash behind ‘is ears now!
Tom: Sea monsters! [Smiles and walks towards the front] We might stand more of a chance against them. Just listen to that. I saw it in their eyes this afternoon, when we were pulling up the boats. Everyone thinking the same – and no one saying it: how much longer? It’s getting worse, you know – coming closer.
[Looks at Edith, who is noncommittal. There is a single bang on the door]
What was that?
[Several knocks on the door]
Who on Earth…
[He exits]
[From offstage]: Oh my God!
[Re-enters with Mrs Spital carrying a loose bundle of clothes. She is wet, shaking, and looks in a state of shock]
Edith: Mrs Spital! Wha’ ‘appened?
Spital: The door was jammed…
[Mrs Spital looks unsteady. She drops the clothes. Tom moves to support her]
I’m sorry…
She stoops, with difficulty, to pick up the clothes
Tom: The door?
Spital: It was the only way out.
Tom: Don’t worry, I’ll do that. Come and sit down.
Edith: Can I get ‘ee ort? A hot drink?
[Mrs Spital shakes her head.
Tom guides her to the third chair.
She sits down, still shaking]
Let me get ‘ee a blanket.
Exit
Edith
Spital: You don’t mind if I…if I stay just for tonight?
Her eyes are fixed on the front
Tom: Course not. What’s happened to the Inn?
Spital: There was this crash, and then the front door was jammed. I was pushing and I couldn’t shift it…
Tom: So, how did you get out?
Spital: The cellar – there was water everywhere, then I tripped and I couldn’t see…everything crashing…
Edith returns, passes a blanket to Tom who lays it around Mrs
Spital’s shoulders, then goes to whisper something to Edith, who exits. Tom returns to comfort Mrs Spital.
Tom: You can sleep in Freddie’s room tonight. He’ll be all right with us. Edie’ll help you out of these wet clothes. You’ll be all right with us.
He takes hold of her and she looks up at him,
still shaking as the lights fade
Scene 4 Front
of Stage
Munro: [At desk left] Most of the time, in this job, you write what you’re told to write. Don’t get too involved, my old editor used to say. And most of the time, I don’t. [Reads]
‘Our representative…’ that’s me, ‘again visited Hallsands on Monday and found that the havoc wrought by the gale is terrible. At the extreme west of the village a cottage was on Sunday morning so weakened by having its foundation sucked from under it, that part of it has been completely swept away by the sea. A portion of the front premises of the London Inn has likewise been so undermined that the usual means of access has been cut off, and customers have to go through the cellar. In the face of what has recently transpired, the prevalent belief is that nothing short of a substantial strengthening of the quay wall, to form a breakwater, will meet the requirements. In the interests of both life and property… matters cannot be allowed to remain as they are.’
Jim Trout is standing in the centre of the room. Tom enters right.
Tom: Hello Jim. Just thee and me?
Jim: Yiss.
Tom: You haven’t asked my father, then?
Jim: Us’ll be better off wi’out ‘im.
Enter Munro and Hansford Worth who is carrying documents and a glass jar containing shingle.
Munro: Mr Worth, let me introduce you to Jim Trout…Tom Wills.
[They shake hands and sit down around a table]
Mr Worth is here at Colonel Mildmay’s invitation, though I gather this is not your first visit to Start Bay?
Worth: I have been sailing this bay since I was a boy, and fishing here – though not like you professionals…[smiling at Jim] My father studied the geology of the beaches along this coast. I never imagined I would follow quite so directly in his footsteps.
Munro: Mr Worth is both a geologist [Jim looks uncertainly at Tom] and an engineer…
Worth: And both disciplines have a bearing on the matter we are here to discuss. [Lifts the document] I have perused the report of Dr. Kyle, a most eminent authority on the subject…at least in his own opinion. At the risk of further denuding your beach, I have taken a sample [indicates the jar] which I am confident will dent his reputation somewhat. Now, before we talk of possible solutions, I have a question for you gentlemen. The Board of Trade maintains that this is not the first time the sea has undermined the village, and they are supported by the evidence of a certain erm…[looks at the document] George Wills [Jim snorts. Worth looks at Tom]. Is he any relation to you?
Tom: He was.
Worth: So, Mr Trout, is there any truth in their assertions?
Jim: There be some fishermen neast seventy year old, and them ant seed nort like it.
Tom: And there is one piece of hard evidence, Sir. In the quay wall there is a stone with the initials of the original builder and the date of 1841. Whatever’s happened to the beach, that wall has stood for over sixty years.
Worth: Excellent! Can you show it to me, when we have finished?
Tom: With pleasure.
Worth: Now gentlemen, I have some good news for you. Colonel Mildmay, who continues to press your case with the Board of Trade, has most generously offered me an advance of a thousand pounds to begin work on new walls to protect the village.
Opens plans on the table.
Jim: I think it be a waste o’ time, meself.
Worth: Really? So what else do you propose?
Jim: Noo ‘ouses ‘way from the sea.
Worth: I would agree with you if sufficient funds were forthcoming, but I do not believe that to be very likely. What do you think Mr Munro?
Munro: If there’s one thing tighter than a Scotsman with his money, it’s a politician with someone else’s!
Worth: [Laughs] Aptly put, Mr Munro, aptly put! What do you say Mr Wills?
Tom: Will it work? Will they be strong enough?
Worth: [Hesitates] I believe they will, providing we are able to start without delay. I myself am willing to work without payment unless and until compensation can be secured. So will the village support it?
Looks at Jim and Tom
Jim: Don’t look like us ‘ave no choice!
Worth: I believe not. Now, Mr Munro, if we are to persuade the politicians, we must first enlist the support of those who elect them. Can you help us with that?
Munro: Well I’m not the editor…but I can try.
Worth: Good, so we are agreed. Now, Mr Wills, can you show me this quay stone?
Exit Worth followed by Tom and the others
Scene 6 Front
of Stage
Munro: [Sitting at desk left] Altruism, charity, a concern for the common good – these are not qualities I would normally associate with my editor, so I have to confess a little surprise at his response on this occasion [reads]:
“The accounts given in our last issues, and the pitiable plight to which the fishermen are reduced, will no doubt have prepared our readers for the announcement we make this morning – the opening of a Hallsands Fishermen’s Relief Fund. We cordially invite the generous contributions of our readers, and the public generally…”
So while Mr Worth began his work on the new walls, and Colonel Mildmay argued with the Government over who was to pay for it, letters like this one arrived in my office from all over the County:
“Those of us who sleep warm and dry in their beds every night will perhaps think of these poor people driven out of house and home, and although times are bad with many I feel sure few will grudge a trifle towards helping them. I beg to enclose cheque…ten pounds!
Signed: A. fisherman”
Lights fade – music mingled with the sounds of a storm. From
behind the curtain come noises of furniture being dashed by the sea.
Scene 7 Reading Room 1904
The room is in a state of partial collapse. Furniture and books are scattered across the
floor. Tom enters right, stands at the
side, surveying the wreckage, then walks in, picks up a damaged book, reading
its title.
Tom: Damn them…Damn them!
He hurls the book against the wall. George Wills enters right. The two regard each other in silence for a few seconds until Jim Trout and Mrs Spital enter behind him. After the initial shock, all four begin tidying the room in silence.
Spital: Shall I go and find a mop, and a crate for the books – what’s left of them?
The others murmur assent and she exits right. Munro enters right.
Munro: Good Lord!
[He walks in and looks around. The others ignore him as they continue their work.]
Did all this happen last night?
Tom: [To
Munro, who is standing in his way.]
Excuse me! [Munro moves aside, Tom gives him a chair]
Munro: Ah, Messrs Wills Senior and Junior – perhaps you can give me the view of two generations on what’s been happening here? Tom, is it not?
Tom: Ay.
He carries on working, as Mrs Spital returns with a mop, which she begins to use, and a crate into which Tom begins putting the books.
Munro: What d’you think will happen to the village now?
Tom: [Stops, holding a book] I reckon it’ll fall into the sea.
Munro: Do you no think the new sea walls’ll protect the village?
[As Tom does not answer, he turns to George]
Mr Wills?
[George stops what he is doing and approaches them. Tom looks at the damaged book he is holding, then drops it from waist height into the crate.]
Tom: Excuse me, some of us ‘ve got a living to make.
As he exits right, Mrs Spital observes the hostile glances between Tom and George. As the lights fade, Munro moves towards the front and the desk. At the same time, the Official enters and sits at the desk right.
Munro: [Writing a line, then reading]: “Extraordinary though it may appear to the reader, there really is no excitement whatever in Hallsands. Yesterday, a number of men were discussing the prospects of the whole village being eventually swept away. Perhaps the inherent fortitude of their race and calling come to their aid, and cause them to observe this outward show of remarkable calmness. The Hallsander is a study for the psychologist at the moment. The man is in deadly peril – he says so himself – and all the while he goes about his daily task with consummate indifference.”
Official: We have received two further communications. Kingsbridge Rural District Council complains of damage to the road in Hallsands. They are refusing to sanction any agreement without an indemnity against future costs. And we have another of Colonel Mildmay’s missives [reads, with disapproval]:
“It appears to me the refinement of cruelty to interpose these fresh obstacles while the fishermen themselves are as yet defenceless against the winter gales…I appealed to Sir John to increase his contribution, but he answered that if the fishermen had a legal claim on anyone (which he was not of course prepared to admit) it was upon the Board of Trade…”
[He lifts the letter, hesitates, then reads as he writes]: “It must not be assumed that this is an accurate statement of the case…at least as far as the Board of Trade is concerned.”
The room has been tidied but signs of storm damage are still evident. The Official and Brooks are sitting behind a table with George, Jim and Mrs Spital facing them. Tom is standing to one side.
Official: [Stands and reads]: “We the undersigned, owners of property at Hallsands, agree to accept the sum of three thousand two hundred and fifty pounds as a full and final settlement of all claims direct or indirect against Sir John Jackson or any Government department. This payment is not to be regarded as a recognition in any way of legal liability on his part, or that of any Government department. As far as Sir John Jackson is concerned, it is given purely as a matter of good feeling towards men with whom his firm has been brought into contact…”
You all understand this?
Sullen murmurs from the villagers.
George goes up first to sign, followed by Jim who picks up the pen, then
hesitates.
Official: Sign there.
Jim: I can’t.
Official: Whyever not?
Tom: [Stepping forward] Sir, you have inflicted enough humiliation on these men. Can he make a mark, if I witness it?
Official: Are you a property owner?
Tom: No, I’m not.
Official: I’m afraid the mark must be witnessed by an owner of property.
George Wills steps forward. Jim puts a cross on the paper, then George signs beside it. Jim steps aside to allow Mrs Spital to approach the table.
Spital: [Picks up the document and reads, shaking her head] No. I cannot sign.
Official: [Inviting him to countersign again] Mr Wills?
Spital: I mean, Sir, that I cannot put my name to a statement which I know to be false!
[She turns to address the villagers.]
The sea walls alone will consume more than half of this award. And the rest – a few hundred pounds – is offered as compensation for boats, personal property, six houses entirely destroyed and, of course, the London Inn.
[The others regard her impassively. She turns towards Brooks]
If this is a measure of your master’s ‘good feeling’, then I for one am willing to risk his ill-feeling in a court of law.
Official: Let me be quite clear – this offer is the result of many months of negotiations. It is conditional upon the signature of every property owner in the village. Are you willing, Madam, to put the safety of your neighbours at risk, to pursue a personal whim?
Spital: ‘This bond doth give thee here no drop of blood.’
Good day to you, Sir.
Official: Gentlemen, will you leave us now.
Brooks: Was that the poisoned widow who offended the District Council?
Official: The very same.
Brooks: Sir John will not be pleased. How do you think we should proceed?
Official: I shall draft a report and leave that question to my superiors. Would you concur with the following [reads]:
“Mrs Spital is a housekeeper, an uneducated woman and has no resources to go to law. Is it not possible to ignore her?”
Brooks nods as the lights fade.
Mrs Spital is sitting waiting for Tom, who enters right, and kisses
her.
Tom: Hello, good to see you.
Spital: How’s Freddie?
Tom: On the mend now.
Spital: I thought I’d better meet you here, anyway. I’ve come to say goodbye. I’m going back to Salisbury.
Tom: Oh, for how long?
Spital: For as long as the good Lord decides to keep me on this Earth, I expect.
Tom: Oh no!
Spital: You will always be welcome if ever you venture so far.
Tom: What will happen to the Inn?
Spital: When the sea walls are complete, I shall have it repaired and then put up for sale.
Tom: Is it true Sir John Jackson paid you five hundred pounds?
Spital: Plus costs.
Tom: That’ll be one in the eye for my father!
Spital: Your father has taken so much in both eyes this past year, he has ceased to notice. Tom…do you not feel the time has come to bury the hatchet…[smiles], or the rake?
Tom: Hmm – he’s the one who’ll have to do the digging. Anyway, whose side are you on?
Spital: Taking sides and allowing them to colour your judgement is one vice of village life I intend to leave behind…as I hope you will before too long.
Tom: If it were only me…
Spital Is that so? And as for your father – I don’t think there’s anyone left on his side, which is why I hear he is planning to leave.
Tom: Is he?
Spital: You weren’t aware of this?
Tom: No, but it doesn’t surprise me. He has bought the cottages of three more honest fishermen, with his ill-gotten gains. And how many gentlemen of leisure choose to live amongst the rotten fruits of their past labour?
Spital: I don’t seek to excuse what he has done, but in my experience, the fault in a feud rarely lies on one side alone.
Tom: In what way have I wronged my father? You yourself said I was right to march with the other men.
Spital: I was not thinking of any specific action. Try to imagine how things might seem from your father’s perspective, and remember, you will have longer than he to live with the poisoned memories of all this. [Takes his hand and looks at him directly] So if you’re not prepared to act for his benefit, then do it for your own.
Tom: [Hugging her] What will I do without your words of wisdom?
Spital: Learn to articulate your own. I know they’re all in there…[stroking his head] somewhere.
George enters and lets out a stilted cry of
surprise, causing them to pull apart.
Mr Wills…
George regards them fro a moment, then exits right. Mrs Spital shakes her head, looking towards the exit; Tom looks the other way as the lights fade.
© Steve Melia 2003