good-humouredly.
CROUCH does not know what is going on: every time he turns downstage, the SECRETARY is in view behind him, and every time he looks upstage the gap is empty.
‘Mind your back!’
‘Out the way!’
‘Let the dog see the rabbit!’
CROUCH is bewildered.
The SECRETARY is nearing nakedness, obscured. The unseen watchers are nearing hysterical frustration.
At the climax of their cries, CROUCH backs into the path of the swing and is knocked arse over tip by a naked lady, BLACKOUT and crash of broken glass. Immediately:
VOICE (ARCHIE’s voice): ‘And now!—ladies and gentlemen!—the INCREDIBLE—RADICAL!—LIBERAL!!—JUMPERS!!’ (White spot. Musical introduction. EIGHT JUMPERS enter jumping, tumbling, somersaulting, four from each side of the stage: a not especially talented troupe of gymnasts possibly using a trampoline. Discreet musical accompaniment. Their separate entrances converge to form a tableau of modest pretension.)
DOTTY (entering): That’s not incredible…. Well, is it? I can sing better than that. I mean I can sing better than they can jump. (DOTTY wanders on to the stage in front of the now disassembling tableau. Her blonde hair is elegantly ‘up’, her white dress is long and billowy… she looks fabulous, stunning. She flaps a hand dismissively at the JUMPERS.) (Equably.) No good—you’re still credible. (Generally.) Get me someone unbelievable! (GEORGE, holding sheets of paper, has already entered behind her, and as DOTTY turns on her last word she is face to face with him, and continues without pause.) Promptness I like. (GEORGE is not dressed for a party. Flannels and shabby smoking jacket, hair awry, his expression and manner signifying remonstrance. The JUMPERS persevere, doggedly helping each other to do back-flips, etc.) I have a complaint. These people are supposed to be incredible and I’m not even astonished. I am not faintly surprised. In fact, not only can I sing better than they can jump, I can probably jump higher than they can sing.
GEORGE: For God’s sake. It’s after two a.m.
(She turns to the presumed source of music.)
DOTTY: Give me a C.
(GEORGE goes as far as to touch her arm. She turns on him with sudden obliterating fury.) It’s my bloody party, George! (GEORGE leaves.) (A JUMPER flips himself into a standing position in mid-stage.) (Equable again.) I can do that. (A SECOND JUMPER joins the first.) And that. (A THIRD JUMPER leaps on to the shoulders of the first two.) I can’t do that, but my belief is unshakeable, so get off. (To the unseen musicians.) I’ll do the one about the moon. I’m sure you know it. (A word about DOTTY’s SONG. The musicians attempt to follow her but are thwarted by her inability to distinguish between one moon-song and another, and by her habit of singing the words of one to the tune of another. The music gamely keeps switching tracks, but DOTTY keeps double-crossing it.)
(Sings.) Shine on, shine on, harvest moon I want to spoon To my honey I’ll croon love’s June Or July——
—No, that’s not it——
(Sings.) Shine on, shine on silvery moon I used to sigh In June or July How high the——
—No, you’ve gone wrong again——
(Sings.) moon, you saw me standing alone—— (The last six words have fortuitously combined the words and tune of ‘Blue Moon’.) That’s it, that’s it! (Now confident, she starts to play the chanteuse, strolling in and out among the dogged JUMPERS, moving upstage of them and turning.)
(Sings.) Blue moon You saw me standing alone Without a dream in my heart It must have been moonglow Way up in the Blue Moon You saw me standing——
No, no——
(Shouts at JUMPERS.) All right, I believe you!—you’re incredible! And now for another song. (From now until their act is terminated by events, the JUMPERS are assembling themselves into a human pyramid composed thus: SIX JUMPERS in three-two-one formation, flanked by the other two standing on their hands at the pyramid’s base. When the pyramid is complete it hides DOTTY from view.)
(Sings.) You saw me standing in June January, Allegheny, Moon or July——
(Jeers.) Jumpers I’ve had—yellow, I’ve had them all! Incredible, barely credible, credible and all too bloody likely——When I say jump, jump! (From her tone now it should be apparent that DOTTY, who may have appeared pleasantly drunk, is actually breaking up mentally. And from her position in the near-dark outside the JUMPERS’ light, it should be possible to believe that DOTTY is responsible for what happens next—which is: A gun shot. ONE JUMPER, bottow row, second from left, is blown out of the pyramid. He falls downstage, leaving the rest of the pyramid intact. The music has stopped. DOTTY, chanteuse, walks through the gap in the pyramid.) (The shot JUMPER is at her feet. He starts to move, dying, pulling himself up against DOTTY’s legs. She looks at him in surprise as he crawls up her body. His blood is on her dress. She holds him under his arms, and looks around in a bewildered way. She whimpers.) Archie…. (The pyramid has been defying gravity for these few seconds. Now it slowly collapses into the dark, imploding on the missing part, and rolling and separating, out of sight, leaving only the white spot. DOTTY does not move, holding the JUMPER.)
ARCHIE (voice only):… (The Party hubbub comes back, at a higher pitch.) Quiet please…. The party is over…
A DRUNK (sings): It’s time to call it a day… (This sets off a ripple of applause and cheers. The party noise dies to silence. The light contracts to a spot on DOTTY and the JUMPER, eerily. Frozen time, DOTTY still has not moved.)
DOTTY: Archie…
ARCHIE (off): Oh dear!
DOTTY: Archie…
ARCHIE (off): Just keep him out of sight till morning. I’ll be back.
DOTTY: Archie…
ARCHIE (off): Hush… I’ll be back at eight o’clock. (Around her, the flat assembles itself, BEDROOM, STUDY, HALL. The white spot remains—on the SCREEN now: but it is changing in character, and becomes a map of the moon photographed from a satellite… the familiar pitted circle. At the same time is heard the low tone of the TELEVISION VOICE, too low to admit comprehension. The picture changes to a close up of the moon’s surface. We are watching a television programme about something that has happened on the moon. The picture changes several times—an astronaut, a rocket, a moon-vehicle, etc. The television set in the bedroom is on. DOTTY is standing in the Bedroom. She hasn’t moved at all. She is dressed in a blood-stained party frock, holding up a corpse dressed in yellow trousers and singlet. She is composed, looking about her, clearly trying to decide what to do with the body. In the STUDY, GEORGE is working at the desk, adding to a pile of manuscript. The front door opens, CROUCH enters, using a master key. He is not wearing the white coat now, but a grey overall as worn by janitors. He is limping slightly. He is singing quietly to himself… ‘Gonna make a sentimental journey… gonna put my heart at ease… gonna take a sentimental journey…’
