The Sitting Room

ACT I

Scene 1

Lights come up on a London sitting room. It is March 15, 1986. The door opens stage left and EVELYN enters first, followed by BINNY. EVELYN is in her early 70s and BINNY in her early 40s. BINNY is clutching a denim jacket to her chest. The jacket is embroidered on the back with a shooting star. BINNY is obviously overwhelmed by grief: she is weeping. She drops her purse in the middle of the floor, then shuffles toward the couch, but sinks to the floor before she makes it, as if she doesn't have enough energy to make it the rest of the way. EVELYN stands over her.

EVELYN: Time for some tea, then.

(BINNY doesn't respond. EVELYN waits)

EVELYN: There are some sausage rolls in the cupboard.

BINNY: (Haltingly) I'll be sick if I eat anything.

EVELYN: If you don't eat, you'll be peckish.

BINNY: (Softly, but with an edge) Who's the peckish one?

EVELYN: Did you say perhaps you will have one?

(BINNY does not argue. EVELYN goes to exit stage right to the kitchen with a heavy sigh. She stops and turns back)

EVELYN: Incidentally, BINNY, don't answer the phone if it rings! I'm expecting a call that I need to handle. It's of a sensitive nature.

BINNY: What if Piloo calls?

EVELYN: Piloo never calls.

BINNY: What if it's the police, to tell us more about . . . (She can't finish)

EVELYN: If it's important, they'll call back.

BINNY: What if it's Ravi?

EVELYN: (Sternly) Don't answer it! (Pause) If you must know, the call I'm expecting is from an assessor. I had the flat assessed a few months back--it's a good thing to do now and again--and I wasn't satisfied with the results. So I refused to pay the first one and sought out a second opinion, which as it turns out was much more to my liking. But that, I regret to say, has made the first assessor quite angry. He has been calling incessantly, hounding me. I wouldn't want you to be subject to such unpleasantness today. (Pause) So you won't answer it?

BINNY: Bloody hell, Mum, do I look in any shape to be chatting on the phone?

EVELYN: Precisely! (She exits)

(BINNY continues weeping. At one point she holds the jacket away from her and smooths it out on her legs, looking at the star on the back, running her fingers over it, and moaning. She puts it on backwards, with the back on her front, and pulls her legs up as if in the fetal position. EVELYN enters with a brown teapot and two teacups and places them on the coffee table. She pauses a minute. When BINNY doesn't move, EVELYN pours her own cup, but nothing for BINNY)

EVELYN: Sausage rolls are warming in the stove. Remind me to check on them in five or ten. (Pause) No use lying there all dollish. I don't have a pram to push you around in anymore. And take off that jacket. It's morbid. (Pause) There will be plenty of time to wallow later, but at present, there are arrangements to be made. (Pause) Though I don't know where I'm supposed to find the money for a burial. You can't get blood from a stone, now can you? (Long pause) It's bloody robbery what they charge to put someone in the ground these days. In India, families took care of it themselves. Of course, then there's the uncivilized Indians. Wives jumping onto funeral pyres and all that. My father saw it with his own eyes once when he was out in one of the villages. When he came back, he was so disturbed he vomited for a day straight, and he was a navy man. (Long pause) I suppose we'll be forced to do something basic and simple. Like Mark Strickland's. Remember? They didn't have any money left after paying for the older boy's. A tragic case! So they had that quickie at the graveside. . . .

BINNY: No quickies! It can't be like Mark's. There needs to be a real service, with a priest.

EVELYN: Well, I know Father Valli charges a fee.

BINNY: It should be exceptional.

EVELYN: Exceptional services require exceptional funds.

BINNY: I want flowers and poetry and . . .

EVELYN: Do you have any idea how much flowers cost?

BINNY: Piloo can help. And Ravi must come from America.

EVELYN: Piloo? He doesn't believe in ceremony. An atheist, that one. He refused to watch Charles and Diana's wedding. Can you imagine? He said it was a "spectacle of diversion." (Pause) You know what he'll say? He'll say we should go to a crematorium and then we should scatter her ashes on Parliament to protest the Falkland War. No, I don't expect your brother will be swinging for flowers or for Ravi's plane ticket from America. Besides, he's flat broke, like me. . . .

BINNY: God, Mum, is money all you can think about? I'll pay if it comes to that. Let's do whatever will most honor her . . . (She breaks down again)

EVELYN: Star would be honored to know that you are taking care of it, BINNY. (Satisfied, she turns her attention back to the jacket) I told you to take that off. You already have on a jumper.

(BINNY crosses her arms tightly, holding the jacket to herself with more vehemence. This action of defiance seems to strengthen her. She stops crying)

EVELYN: It looks like a bloody straightjacket that way.

BINNY: Call the loony bin to take me away, then.

EVELYN: Going off the deep end never brought anyone back to life, you know, though I suppose many have hoped it would. Same kind of irrational thinking as the ones who think offing themselves will make everyone sorry.

BINNY: Is that why you think father? . . .

EVELYN: Your father? He never thought about anyone else at all. A tragic case! His lies caught up with him in the end.

BINNY: He had nothing left to lie about in the end, Mum. Living with that woman . . .

EVELYN: From Ethiopia.

BINNY: All they did was argue in different languages and throw frying pans at each other.

EVELYN: He always was a hothead.

BINNY: He was lonely. Working as a cleaning man in empty office buildings all night. . . .

EVELYN: No good ever comes from dwelling in the past. (Pause) Off with it, then.

BINNY: I have chills.

EVELYN: It's like the bloody tropics in here.

BINNY: I'm chilled.

EVELYN: You're probably coming down with something. Malaria, from all those backward places you travel to. (Pause) Take that off first, and you can get a woolie out of my bureau.

BINNY: No.

(BINNY holds on tight to the jacket. EVELYN goes over and attempts to uncross BINNY's arms and pull off the jacket. They struggle. BINNY pushes EVELYN down)

EVELYN: My hip!

BINNY: (Screaming) SHE WAS MY SISTER!

EVELYN: You ungrateful, spiteful! . . . I never would've laid a hand on my mother!

BINNY: She was my twin! (She breaks down again) We came into this world together!

EVELYN: (Collects herself, sits against the couch) That's about as surprising as the tide report to me. Who do you think carried the two of you and pushed you into the light of day? Twelve on the dot. High noon.

BINNY: If you really were her mother, you could never be so bloody . . . cold. Stony. You act as if today is like any other day. "Ho hum." Talking about "making arrangements" as if you're organizing a tea for the St. Peter's ladies guild. No one would ever guess that you were just at the police station today looking at the mangled body . . . (Pause as her anger dissolves into grief) She was so swollen. Everything was swollen and purple. Even her earlobes.

EVELYN: Of the same kidney, you were, but I was the only one who could tell you apart from the instant you were born. No, even before then. I could tell which one of you was giving me a kick when I was still wearing my apron high.

BINNY: Is that it? Did we kick you so hard that you exact your revenge by making us miserable all our days?

EVELYN: Don't go getting all melodramatic on me.

BINNY: Why aren't you crushed? She was your child! You lived with her. (Pause) I don't understand you. I don't even know you. You're not human. . . .

EVELYN: Perhaps someday you'll understand that humans can mourn without tears.

BINNY: That's impossible.

EVELYN: I've been doing it for . . . 50 years now.

BINNY: This isn't about you, Mum! I don't want to talk about you, or father, or anyone. I just want to think about Star.

EVELYN: I did everything I could to stop her, you know.

BINNY: Stop her? It was an accident.

EVELYN: (Picking herself up and sitting down in her chair) I could see it coming.

BINNY: Now you're going mad. Or are you "Madame Singh" with her magic crystal ball?

EVELYN: I told her not to ride her bike when she was sloshed. It's anarchy on the road out there!

BINNY: It was an accident. They said. The driver in a caravan looked down for a moment, and there was a dodgy roundabout. What was a caravan doing on the streets of London? He should bloody well be driving in the Lake Country.

EVELYN: I guarantee you she was at the Sherlock before.

BINNY: It was noontime. Why would she be at the pub?

EVELYN: She was always at the pub. She was a lush.

BINNY: You've always been like this, Mum. If anyone likes to have a couple of drinks, they're automatically an alcoholic.

EVELYN: Star drank all day. Every day. Does that qualify?

BINNY: How can you talk about her that way today?

EVELYN: It's the truth!

BINNY: You're a heartless hag!

EVELYN: Listen to me, little miss self-righteous. You haven't lived in this flat for more than ten years. You rang up once or twice a month blathering on about your life, working for the firm, traveling the world, and I would sit in this chair and watch Blythe put on an act for you. She never did any of those activites she told you about--the courses, the walks, the dates. . . .

BINNY: You're lying!

EVELYN: No, she lied. To you. When she spoke to you, she pretended she was the old Star. But then she'd put down the phone, put on that jacket, and head out without a word. Sometimes when she was down to the pub, I'd root around her room to try to find out what she was doing in there, and I could smell the brine of her breath in the air.

BINNY: So what? I don't care if she was the biggest drunk in the public house! She was my sister, and she's gone.

EVELYN: Last month, I noticed her palms had turned bright red and the whites of her eyes had gone orange. When I went into her room this morning, a carrion crow was sitting on her windowsill.

BINNY: (Covering her ears) Why are you telling me this?

EVELYN: (Raises her voice) To help you see. This might have been the most merciful way, BINNY. Better than slow death from a pickled liver.

BINNY: Better? . . . How can you say that?

EVELYN: She wasn't much use to anyone anymore.

BINNY: I see, all right. She wasn't much use to you anymore! It was you killing her slowly, not her liver. You always preferred Piloo, with his skin like yours, but we looked like father. You gave him the chuck before we were born so you could give us the British names you always wanted, then we embarrassed you with our dark skin.

EVELYN: I never treated any of you differently. . . .

BINNY: You kept Star here like a slave, your own darkie like you were still living in India. She was chained to you. She never did those classes and walks because she was too busy making your tea and heating your bloody sausage rolls!

EVELYN: Bloody hell! The sausage rolls! (She runs out of the room, exiting stage right. BINNY tries to pound her fist in anger but realizes she can't with the coat on, so she wrestles it off. Once she has the jacket in her arms again, she begins to sniff and study it. She walks over and hangs the jacket on the back of a chair, weeping again. At first she hangs it the regular way, then decides to turn it around so the back with the star is visible. EVELYN returns, empty-handed)

EVELYN: They were too far gone. One of us will have to go to the shop and get . . . (She stops when she sees BINNY looking at the chair)

BINNY: This was her favorite chair. She always liked plain, simple things. I always thought she would have made a good Quaker.

EVELYN: I'll take it to the charity box at St. Peter's.

BINNY: No, it's going to stay here, in this sitting room, for as long as I'm alive.

EVELYN: I hate to tell you this, lovey, but we might not have this place that long.

BINNY: (Pause) I told you, Mum, I'll pay for the burial. I have some savings.

EVELYN: Star paid me some rent every month so I could have a little something to live on. Without that, I'm penniless.

BINNY: I don't want to talk about this now! It's bad enough I have to witness your lack of sympathy. Now I have to watch you subtract the pound notes, like she was your boarder?

EVELYN: I'm simply trying to deal with the practical issues first so we can clear those out of the way. Between my finances and my health, I can't live here alone!

BINNY: Health? You're a tough old bird.

EVELYN: With my hip, I can't negotiate the steps alone. Bursitis and arthritis, both. What if I fell with no one here?

BINNY: We'll find you a boarder.

EVELYN: I'm too old to live with a stranger. No stranger would be able to live with me.

BINNY: What about Piloo? (Pause) No, if he ever got his hands on this place, he'd punt it away on the horses in less than a month.

(EVELYN looks uncomfortable. At this moment, the phone rings. EVELYN goes over to it, but stands there looking at it as it rings)

BINNY: Pick up the bloody phone, Mum! It might be the police.

EVELYN: (Picks up the phone) 7827. (Listens. She looks knowingly at BINNY and points to the phone) I'm afraid today isn't a good day to discuss this. I'm having a bit of a family crisis at the moment. Why don't you call back another? . . . (Listens) I do understand that you're peeved, but hounding me like this isn't going to help. If you'd provided the service you advertised. . . . (Listens for a while. Holds the phone away from her ear) Pardon me, sir, but I'm an old woman and I don't deserve to be spoken to in this manner. I have far more urgent matters to handle at the present moment. Goodbye. (She hangs up)

BINNY: It sounds like that man is harassing you, Mum. Perhaps you need to call the police and file a report.

EVELYN: (Uncomfortable) I can handle it, lovey. He's all talk.

BINNY: I don't understand why you had an assessor come in the first place.

EVELYN: What do you think I've been trying to tell you? I'm thinking of selling this place.

BINNY: You can't do that, Mum. This is our home base.

EVELYN: It's not safe for an old woman to live alone anymore, you know. The neighborhood has changed. You remember it like it was when everyone looked out for each other--the O'Rileys, the Jordans, the Stricklands. They've all retired or followed their children somewhere, and a lower class of people have moved in.

BINNY: I thought you said the prices have hit the roof?

EVELYN: They have. That's what gets my ire up. They're paying way more than I could afford, but they're a lower class of people. The me generation. Only interested in their own pleasure and gadgets, but they bring in drug dealers and robbers who want their cars and their stereos. . . .

BINNY: I can see about some sort of security system for you. . . .

EVELYN: Perhaps I'd be better off in one of those homes. (Pause) Though they're terribly expensive. We'd have to use all the money this place fetched, and more.

BINNY: Mum, you're not going to any kind of an institution. I'll sort it out. Now, let's do some thinking about the service. . . .

EVELYN: I couldn't ask you to give up your job in Brighton.

BINNY: Who said anything about? . . .

EVELYN: Didn't you say your firm has a London office?

BINNY: I can hire someone to be with you during the week.

EVELYN: A nursemaid?

BINNY: Just for during the weeks. I'll travel home on the weekends to be with you. It's a quick train ride. You saw how quickly I made it today.

EVELYN: I saw a show on BBC1 about those visiting nurse services. It was one of those hidden camera exposés, and the so-called nurses were slapping around people in wheelchairs. Those jobs attract a low class of people who can't get anything better.

BINNY: (Firmly) I'll sort it out, Mum. I'll make sure everything is spot on. (She suddenly looks deflated and sits down in the straight-backed chair) I don't want to talk about this anymore. I want us to be silent for a moment, to think about Star. Like in Israel. I was there once the day the entire country stops and is silent for a moment to remember everyone who perished in the Holocaust.

EVELYN: The whole country does it?

BINNY: Every single person.

EVELYN: What about the non-Jews?

BINNY: They do it as well, out of respect.

EVELYN: Jews can be so dramatic, can't they? I don't know what it helps, all those special days. Everybody's got to have their day now. Can't leave anyone out. Dwelling in the past, if you ask me. (Pause. BINNY closes her eyes) I guarantee you there are always a few people who keep their eyes open or think of something else.

BINNY: (Opens her eyes) Let's just try it, Mum. For one minute, 60 seconds. (She closes her eyes again)

(Long pause)

EVELYN: The silence is a splendid idea, that's why I go to St. Peter's, but I could hear my stomach gurgling and moaning. Could you pop out first for a new supply of sausage rolls? They're about 50 p. each. There's some money in the tin in the cupboard. Star always kept it there.

BINNY: (Slowly gets up from the chair) I'll get your bloody sausage rolls. (Collects her purse from the floor) I'll pay for the burial and for anything else you need. (She moves in slow motion to the door) I'll hire someone to sit with you during the week, and I'll dash home every weekend to sit with you. But when I come back, we're going to talk about the service. Nothing else. (She turns to leave, then hesitates and turns back to say one last thing) And the jacket stays. Just as it is. (She stares down at EVELYN for a time to make sure this is understood. EVELYN finally shrugs agreement casually, as if the jacket were never important to her to begin with. BINNY exits stage left. EVELYN sits sipping her tea until she's sure BINNY is gone, then she opens the paper, scans it quickly, and scoots to the phone to dial a number)

EVELYN: Piloo? I read the forecast. Are you off to the High Street shop? (Listens) Punt me an accumulator. (Listens) I'm tired of each way, I want to try an accumulator this time. (Listens) Forget Tony's, they're criminals with computers. Old fashioned intuition, strategy, and do it yourself. That's the only way to win. (Listens) I can't call Tony myself. (Listens) Well, Tony's a little peeved with me at the moment. (Listens) I'll take care of Tony. I'm going to be more flush in the future. (Listens) That's no business of yours, just do this one thing for me today. I never ask anything of you. (Listens) Do you have a pencil? Red Herring in the first and Prince Valiant in the second, 50 quid. An accumulator, got it? (Listens) And Piloo? You'd better borrow a suit. BINNY is planning a service for Star.