She Shall Have Music

8/9/2019 She Shall Have Music

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SHE SHALL HAVE MUSIC.

A PLAY FOR THREE ACTORS

BY

T.J.COLLETT.

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CHARACTERS:

MOSS: 45YRS

NICOLE: 37YR

OTTO: 42YRS.

LOCATION: LONDON PARK.

TIME: PRESENT.

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Act One. Scene One.Early morning midsummers day. Moss, Nicole and Otto are sitting on a park bench.

Behind them are trees and shrubs. Nicole is clothed in a black dress just above her knees.She is slim with dark hair. Moss is balding and plump, but not fat and is dressed casual.

Otto is thin and stern looking. He is dressed in a white shirt and blue trousers.

Moss: The best park in London. I come here every Sunday.

Nicole: Todays Friday.

Otto: He doesnt know what day of the week it is. He never works.

Moss: I paint. Thats work.

Nicole: Fridays always remind me of fish.

Moss: I paint when the mood takes me.

Otto: He paints as others have holidays, a few weeks of the year.

Nicole: Fish and mass and the Virgin Mary.

Moss: The smell of paint drives me to higher levels. Its like intoxication.

Otto: I think hes lazy. Painting should be hard work.

Nicole: The nuns made us eat fish and go to mass every Friday.

Moss: I could paint the Virgin Mary if it inspired me to do so, but it doesnt.

Otto: Nothing inspires you. You're too idle to get inspired.

Nicole: They frowned when I told them about my guitar playing. Said I was

wasting my time with trivialities.

Moss: I wanted to paint like Raphael, but I couldnt manage it.

Otto: He paints like a child. A blind child at that.

Nicole: Moss paints nicely. Ive seen his work. (Stands up and stretches her arms.

She looks round at Otto.)Like your sculptures: they need patience to appreciate.

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Otto: Patience is a virtue. Nothing virtuous about his art. (Stands up next toNicole and stretches his arms out like a crucified man. Nicole sits down again.)

Moss: I learnt my skills from the Masters. Nothing wrong with my art. Your

sculptures however are nothing but badly shaped stones.

Otto: Ive sold more sculptures than you have paintings.

Moss: More fool them.

Nicole: I sang in the tube station last night. Made next to nothing. A few

pounds and a couple of proposals

Otto :( Sits down again.) My sculptures will stand the test of time.

Moss: Heaps of stone arent necessarily called sculptures.

Nicole: A girl made suggestions, which I never took up.

Otto: Is it safe? You in the tube station at that time of night?

Moss: Youre no Michelangelo.

Nicole: A druggie tried to steal my hat and coins.

Otto: It would be better if you played in the park.

Moss: Nor Barbara Hepworth.

Nicole: I want to sing in the club again.

Moss: Club? They took advantage of you. Paid you peanuts.

Otto: And youre no Piccaso. Why do you paint?

Nicole: I can sing better in the club. The acoustics is wonderful.

Moss: They take advantage because you're a woman. And the smoke. And

the men leering. No place for you.

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Nicole: Men leer wherever I sing. Men are born leering, I think.

Moss: Id have you as my model, but you refuse me. I could pay you more

than you earn singing.

Otto: You sleep with your models, which is why they dont last.

Moss: I dont force them. They're obliging.

Nicole: I dont want to be a model. My mother would never forgive me for

that. Its bad enough, she says, that I sing and live in London. To model

would be too big a sin for her to accept. (Pause. Each looks about them.) I would

model if I had no other choice, but I do. I sing.

Otto: His models sleep with him because they think him sexy. However,they are fools. Pretty, but fools.

Moss: You're jealous because your models would rather sleep with a dog

than you.

Nicole: I sing because it makes me happy. I'm happy to sing.

Otto: If I want to sleep with a woman, I sleep with a woman. I dont need

models for that.

Nicole: Otto is kind. He lets me sleep in his studio and doesnt expect me to

sleep with him.

Moss: You're too good for the likes of him. Too beautiful. If I could paint

you all the world would see your beauty.

Otto: It would be a disaster. Hed paint you with two faces and blue hair.

Nicole: Ive not slept with a man since that Dutchman two months ago.

Moss: He used you. He wanted you for himself.

Otto: He wont bother you again.

Nicole: He drank too much. He didnt know his own strength.

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Moss: Hes lucky Otto didnt break his neck. Otto can be vicious when the

mood takes him.

Otto: I can't understand men who hit women. I hate it. It makes me angry.

Id have chiselled him.

Nicole: Now Im free. (Takes Ottos hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.)No more

Dutchmen. No more bloody Dutchmen.

Moss: I paint only when I need to paint. I feel the time to paint.

Otto: Nicole is like a sister to me. I hate those who hurt her.

Nicole: Those ducks would make a nice meal.

Moss: I can paint for weeks on end, then nothing for weeks.

Otto: When I saw the bruises on her body, I was very mad. Bruises on the

body, I ask you. What man does that?

Nicole: I love duck. My mother used to make it for us as children. Duck in

orange sauce. Lovely. She could cook like an angel.

Moss: If you'll let me paint you Nicole, it would be a pleasure for us both.

Like the Mona Lisa all over again.

Otto: If only it were so. Hed paint you like a monster. Two heads, four eyes

and a mouth where your ear should be.

Nicole: Nicole, she would say, you must learn to cook duck in orange

sauce for your husband when you marry. She doesn't forgive me not

marrying. I shall be an old maid, she says.

Otto: No, you will marry. Not an old maid. Not in a thousand years.However, there is no hurry. Why hurry?

Moss: I could paint you for posterity. Forever to bring joy to men. To see for

all eternity what we see today. People will flock to view it. It will be

honoured on the walls of any gallery. You'll be blessed.

Otto: How he dreams. His paintings will rot in his studio after his death.

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Nicole: Hush. You're too unkind to each other. Both of you will be famous

and remembered. Ill be as nothing. A mere singer of songs.(Pause. Each rises from the bench and they walk off stage right.)

End of Scene One.

Act One. Scene Two.A short time later. They sit on another bench. Behind them a view of the park. Nicole is

between the two men.

Moss: My father was a motor mechanic. A mender of car engines. He

always seemed to smell of oil and petrol. I used to sniff his overalls when he

came home like a friendly puppy and he would say Aren't you a little too

keen to see me, Moss? Go find a bone.(Pause.)My mother read fortunes. She

had gypsy blood in her veins.

Otto: At least she had blood in her veins. You have water.

Nicole: I had to attend mass in the church on Fridays even in the dead of

winter. Sometimes the holy water would freeze and wed stump our fingers

in the stoup.

Moss: My father is sixty-six now and still tinkering about with cars. He

thinks cars, breathes cars and no doubt he gives my mother an oil change at

bedtime.

Otto: My father was born in 1940. He was the son of a German soldier whodied in Russia. My grandfather is a mere myth. No one knows where he's

buried or what became of his body. My grandmother had to bring up her two

sons on her own in hard circumstances after the war. My Uncle Hans still

lives in Hamburg and is a retired police officer.

Nicole: Become a nun, my mother would say. Take the habit and be

blessed by God. I didnt and she remains disappointed to this day.

Moss: Art is for idiots and layabouts, my father would say. You need a

proper job. He arranged for me to work with a friend of his in the building

industry as an apprentice painter. Not quite what I had in mind when I

mentioned being a painter. (Pause.)Art to me is the essence of my existence.

The reason I was born. With a brush in my hand, I am fulfilled.

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Otto: Some days I think of my grandfather alone in Russia frozen to the

bone, lying somewhere lost to us his heirs.

Nicole: My father wanted to be monk. He tried, but was unsuccessful. His

vocation lay elsewhere the abbot told him. Therefore, he married my mother

and had me and my brother Kirk. He always seems otherworldly, as if part

of him is still searching for that place of sanctuary. (Looks at Moss.)Are you

looking for a place of sanctuary?

Moss: No. Im looking forward to creating my masterpiece. A painting so

good I could retire and sit on the beach and stare at the waves.

Otto: That day will never come. You might as well sit there now and save

yourself time.

Moss: What of you and your stone chipping. You hammer away like a

woodpecker with a beak of steel. Nothing of any worth will come out of

your studio. Even the flies in your windows die of boredom.

Nicole: I would have been a nun if I didnt like sex too much. It was too big

a thing to surrender.

Otto: A child with one finger and one eye could create a masterpiece before

you ever do. A baby dribbling has more sense of pattern than you do.

Moss: Your father, Nicole, probably thinks himself as a secular monk. I

knew a man who had been a priest some years back, and he felt he was a

better man outside the priesthood than within it. Said he had a mistress as a

priest. Too hard without the sex, he said.

Otto: My sculptures are an extension of myself. They're an external aspect of

what I see and feel. (Otto looks at Nicole and smiles.)I sold one last month with

great sadness. I had become attached to it. It was like a child to me.

Moss: I've sought nothing in religion. Art is my religion.

Nicole: Otto has the face of a monk. Pure and wise.

Moss: His face is enough to scare little children into believing in goblins.

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Otto: Nicole is like the younger sister I never had. My brother and I rarely

speak. He thinks I'm an odd fish and does not think I'm worth his time and

affection. My mother still lives in Hamburg with my Uncle Hans. We're not

too close now.

Nicole: There is something pure about sculptures. Something holy.

Moss: Stones and sculptures aren't the same things are they Otto? You think

they are, but there's a difference lost to you.

Otto: Nicole, my dear, when you meet the man you wish to marry, bring him

to me, so that I may see if he's worthy of you. If he isn't, then I'll tell him go

take a jump in the Thames.

Nicole: How sweet you are, Otto. (Pause.) Look at that couple kissing overthere. (Points out into the auditorium.) How romantic it is. Such is the way of

humankind.

Moss: Kissing leads to other things, and other things lead to babies and dirty

nappies and sleepless nights and headaches and all because of a kiss.

Nothing romantic about that.

Otto: He and she are probably secret lovers. He has a wife in the suburbs

that he thinks a bore and she thinks the sun shines out of his backside and so

here they are kissing on the grass in the park on a Friday.

Nicole: Why do you two see things so cynically? Have you no romantic

bones in your bodies?

Moss: Romance is for women. Men are made of firmer stuff.

Otto: Romance is for women and the Latin race. We Anglo-Saxons aren't

made as such. We're for war and creativity.

Moss: The girl has nice legs though. Kissing has its plus points.

Otto: See one pair of legs you see them all. They start at the toes and end at

the Kingdom of Joy. Nothing new. Old hat.

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Nicole: (Shakes her head.)Shame on you two. And I thought you two were men

of nobility.

Moss: Compared to some youll meet, we are.

Otto: We will be as saints compared to some.

Nicole: Well my noble saints, what is the plan for today?

Moss: Plans are for generals and politicians, we have no plans. We drift with

the tides of life.

Otto: We drift wherever the tides go and they sweep us along on the stream

of our consciousness like pieces of driftwood or flotsam.

Moss: Well at least I do. Im not sure where Otto drifts. Hes like snow, but

less pure. Cold and white. Apt to be there when you dont want him and not

there when you have a need for him.

Nicole: Plans are necessary even for us. Else, were going to waste time.

Otto: Time is a fiction, Nicole. Time past and time future are fictions. Only

now has any meaning. The here and now. The present moment that is gone

before you can handle it or decide what you want to do with it. Gone. One

stands around like a tree in a storm wondering whether one is going to

remain or fall. (Stands and looks up at the sky.)The birds dont concern

themselves with concepts. They live. They eat. They drink. They die.

Moss: I used to bird watch when I was young. When I stayed with relatives

in the country, I was always out in the woods or fields, studying birds and

their mating habits.

Otto: I wondered where you learnt your sexual philosophy.

Moss: I saw birds so beautiful that Id stare at them enthralled. Time passing

me by, and me with not a care in the world. (Stands up and looks up at the

sky.)Look, how free they are!

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Nicole: Have you two been drinking already? (Stands up and looks at the

sky.)The clouds foretell a fine day. The birds are happy. And we are lost for

anything to do. (All sit down again and look ahead.)Ive not been lost for

anything to do before. This is a new experience for me. Its as if time were

of no consequence.

Otto: It isnt of any consequence. Its a man made concept to divide ones

life into small digestible pieces.

Moss: The robin has always been my favourite. The colouring. The way it

has so much courage and fierceness.

Nicole: When I was a child sitting in the cold church listening to the nuns

chanting away in Latin, I would wish time to hurry by and allow us girls to

be free, and go off to the common room and hang around the fireplace to getwarm again. (Pause.)I used to associate Latin with coldness. I used to think

mass was another word for freezing fingers and toes. My mother thought I

was happy there, but I loathed it there.

Otto: Nietzsche had the idea that time would repeat itself. Not just once or in

a similar way, but repeatedly in exactly the same way. What a concept. What

a nightmare. No wonder he went mad. (Pause.)Imagine returning to the life

youve had repeatedly with out change or end. A good concept of Hell if

ever there was one.

Nicole: My mother was disappointed when I left and refused to be a nun. It

wasnt a religion thing, but a matter of knowing I wanted something

different, something more.

Moss: Mothers expect things from their children because they suffer so

much in bringing them into the world. As if it was payback time. My mother

would take my hand and read my palm. Youre going to marry late in life,

she would say. Youll not be famous, at least not in your lifetime. A

bundle of laughs my mother.

Otto: (Looks around at Nicole.)Mothers are, with the odd exception, the best

friend one will ever have. We're so much a part of them. Come from their

bodies. Exist in their bodies for nine months. The matter of our early

survival is with them. (Looks at his hands.)Therefore, we can love them or hate

them. Depending on our lives. Our fate.

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Nicole: My mother makes me feel guilty. I only have to look at her and I'm

ready to confess to almost anything.

Moss: Tealeaves were her speciality. She would read my fathers cup and

say things to him and he would say, I dont want to know any of that. I

want to remain ignorant of my future. However, she would always tell him.

(Pause.)However, she would never tell him who was going to win the Derby.

And that really made him annoyed. He loves his horses.

Nicole: She made me go to confessions every week. I had to squeeze my

brain to think of sins I had committed and if I couldnt think of any, I would

make some up for good measure. (Pause.)I would be there hours if I went

now. The confessional that is.

Moss: You can confess to me anytime.

Otto: Look on us as your father confessors. We will absolve you from all

your tiny iniquities. Even those too small to see with the naked eye.(Nicole smiles. Otto and Moss make the sign of the cross over her head, and then they too

smile. They rise and led by Otto wander off casually stage right.)

End of Scene Two.

Act One. Scene Three.

A little later. Moss, Nicole and Otto are sitting at a small table in an outside park caf. Inthe background is the park scenery with trees and shrubs. The table is one of two. Theother table is empty. They are drinking coke.

Moss: The price is astronomical in these places. I darent ask the price of

their ice creams.

Nicole: I remember as a child going to the seaside and thinking an ice cream

was the be all and end all of the day. Look at the state of you, my father

would say. And Id be covered with it. Especially if it was a hot day and the

ice cream ran all down my hands and all around my mouth. Funny how

things have a special importance when one is a child.

Otto: Childhood should be like the unfolding of a bud. Slowly opening up to

reveal a thing of beauty. But it seldom happens that way. Usually the bud

opens up quickly and reveals a small flower of immaturity or riddled with

disease. Or it fails to open at all and remains a rotting bud of no real

significance.

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Moss: Trust you to be philosophical on a day like this. Here we are with the

sun out, nice and hot and the clouds almost like soft cotton wool, with birds,

flowers, butterflies and here are you sprouting your philosophy when all

most people want is to relax and enjoy the day.

Otto: Some of us like to think. Those of us that can think.

Nicole: My mother was very concerned about me bathing on the beach. No

bikini for me. Youll not go showing yourself off to all and sundry, shed

say. And I had to wear a swimming costume that my grandmother must have

worn. Talk about embarrassment. Why do parents have to embarrass one so

as a child?

Moss: I used to have a bucket and spade which I packed every time we went

to the seaside. I scratched my initials on the bucket. Then when I wasfourteen, I lost it at Brighton. It was as if my whole world had a hole in it.

No bucket. What is a spade without a bucket? Then years later, when I

began painting seriously, I did a series of paintings with buckets in them. All

sizes and colours. Viewed from different perspectives and different angles. I

was like the Picasso of the bucket painting. My bucket period.

Nicole: My brother Kirk is in the West End at present. Hes in some play. I

cant remember what its called. Its only a small part. However, he's happy

to be working again. A small part is better than no part at all, he told me

last month. He wants to play Hamlet one day.

Otto: Hamlet? Oh, oh, that will either make him or break him.

Moss: My sister Shirley modelled for me for a short while. She had the

figure and face of an angel. However, shes married now to some fellow in

the City. Shell not mention about the modelling days. I think she sees it as a

dark chapter in her life. A primeval period of her existence. (Pause.)I did this

painting of her at a window. Shes peering out at the Thames. Look at the

size of my backside, she said when she saw it later. Why havent youshown me face on or at an angle showing my best side?

Nicole: Hes very good. He has presence. He has a quiet confidence.

Otto: King Lear. Now theres a part to get your teeth into. Id love to do that

if I were an actor.

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Moss: Maybe you can act better than you can sculpt. Now theres a thing. A

way out for you, Otto.

Otto: I am a sculptor first and foremost. Ive no doubt of my talents.

Moss: Being blind to ones failings are a common error.

Otto: Do you say that from your own experience?

Nicole: Boys, boys. Please not so much arguing. Anyone would think you

hated each other.

Otto: Hatred requires passion. He inspires me with no such passion at all.

Moss: To think I wanted to do his portrait once upon a time.

Otto: Portrait? By you? Id sooner have my eyes boiled in cats pee and

eaten.

Moss: They look like theyve already been treated to it. Your eyes have that

odd look about them.

Otto: To my eyes, all of you looks odd. Call yourself an artist? A child of

five paints better than you do.

Moss: Go stick your chisel somewhere dark.

Otto: In your soul?

Moss: Dont speak to me of souls. My mother never stopped speaking about

them.

Otto: Im surprised she spoke to you at all.

Nicole: Hush or Ill walk off without you. I dont like this pecking at each

other like a couple of hens. Peck, peck, peck. Whats the matter with you

both?

Moss: He stole a girl of mine.

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Otto: As if I would need to steal a girl off of you. (Pause.)She said you were

too self-conceited.

Moss: You stole her from me.

Nicole: Who was this girl and how long ago are we talking about?

Otto: Long before you came along, Nicole. Its history. (Pause.)Ancient

history.

Moss: The fact still remains, no matter how long ago it was. Youre a thief.

A girl stealer.

Nicole: And who was she?

Otto: A model who wanted work. I provided her with some work. He said I

stole her from him. She came of her own accord. She wanted a decent job,

not posing about for hours in all positions and getting stiff. (Stares at Moss and

then smiles.)And what was the result? A two headed woman with three eyes

and a mouth like a hole in the wall.

Moss: Liar. It was one of my best paintings. A masterpiece.

Otto :( Shakes his head.)A comedian as well. (Pause.)She liked it better with me.

Moss: What? Certainly not your sculptures. Did you get her into your bed?

Nicole: Spare me the sordid details. (Pause. Both men look at Nicole and then look

away.)I thought we were friends. I didnt come out with you two to be

subjected to this squabbling. Life is more than that. Life has more to it than

who did what to whom and why. Think about others. Feel the vibrations of

nature around you. (Pause.)Now if youve quite finished, perhaps we can go

see the ducks and swans.

Otto: All right, Nicole. However, for the record I didnt get her into my bed.

And yes, lets go see the ducks and swans.

Moss: I knew she had more sense. Your bed indeed. (Pause.)Sorry, Nicole.

Nicole: If you wanted to confess something whom would you confess to?

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Moss: You. (Pause. He looks at Nicole and sighs.)No one but you.

Nicole: Why me?

Moss: Why not you? Who else?

Nicole: You trust me that much?

Moss: More than anyone else I know.

Nicole: Have you anything to confess?

Moss: Many things, but not here. Not in front of Otto.

Otto: I wouldnt want to know your secrets anyway. So confess when youlike.

Nicole: And you, Otto, whom would you confess to, presuming you have

things you might want to confess?

Otto :( Looks at Nicole seriously.)What human being doesnt have something to

confess? I'm no different to others in that respect. I too have things hidden

that could well do with bringing to light. But to whom? I confessed to my

father once about something I had done and he beat me. Makes you

somewhat careful about confessing things.

Nicole: I promise not to beat you if you confess to me.

Otto: Now you disappoint me. I thought you could be relied upon for at least

a little beating. (Smiles.)No, I joke. I think probably I would confess to you.

At some time or other. Maybe, if I was dying. Or if I was drunk. Or

(Sighs.)What is this talk of confessions? Are you missing your priest? Have

you yourself something to confess? Some dark secret that lurks in that sweet

soul of yours? (Pause. Looks at Moss.)Dark secrets Ive no doubt linger in yourblack soul, Moss, but you, Nicole, no, no, no. (Takes hold of Nicoles hand and

kisses it gently.)Your soul is as pure as the falling snow.

Nicole: I wish it were. I wish I had no secrets.(Moves her hand from Ottosgrasp.)

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Moss: What secrets could linger in you, my sweet one? (Looks at Otto.)What

secrets could there be, Otto, in her lovely soul?

Otto: That is the mystery, Moss. That is the mystery. Will she confess to

either of us? If so, whom? You or me?

Nicole: Why do you presume I'm pure and innocent?

Otto: Maybe because we wish it so.

Moss: Yes, we do, I think. Wish you to be pure, innocent, and untouched by

the worlds foul fingers.

Nicole :( Looks at the sky.)When I confessed to the priest as a child, he would

seem to look right into my very soul and search the tiny corridors of mymind for any dark sins or secrets. It was as if he could actually see things

that werent there. He wanted them to be there. He wanted them there so he

could frighten me with Hell or Purgatory. A child fears these things. Have

nightmares. I did. For years, I feared hell or Purgatory. (Pause. Looks at

Otto.)My mother would confirm these fears by her own words. Youll go to

Hell, Nicole if you tell lies or swear or do things with boys outside of

marriage. Some nights I would cry myself to sleep. Other nights Id not

sleep at all in case I woke up in Purgatory or the other place. (Pause. Looks at

Moss.)Bless me, father, for I have sinnedThe words linger. They haunt.

They haunt me like ghosts.

Moss: Time for ducks and swans.

Otto: Bless us, Nicole, for we have sinned. (All rise and walk off stage right.)

End of Scene Three.

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Act One. Scene Four.Half an hour later. Moss and Nicole are sitting on a bench near a pond. Moss is lookingahead and Nicole is looking at her hands resting in her lap.

Moss: Otto always argues with the speakers back there. He especially loves

to argue with the communists. He baits them. He draws them into a falsesense of security then he lets them have it. Both barrels. Bang, bang. The

argument is really a tonic to him. It releases his demons. Allows him to let

off steam. Get out those worries and concerns he has about his work. Those

sculptures of his. (Pause.) He's never forgiven the communists for his

grandfather's demise. The frozen corpse in the vast plains of Russia during

the War. I think he imagines it's still there somewhere; a frozen body packed

in some field forgotten about for over sixty years. Strange isn't it, what the

human mind can imagine?

Nicole: He calls out in his sleep sometimes at night. I hear him in the other

room. When I first moved into his studio, I thought he was calling me and

went to investigate, but he was fast asleep. Kept on calling out a name,

which I didnt quite catch, and tossing and turning.

Moss: Hes quite a one for the girls; Im surprised hes not made some

advances towards you during that time.

Nicole: Oh, no, hes never as much looked in my direction once Ive

undressed ready for bed. I was rather cautious when he first said aboutstaying with him after my landlord threw me out for falling behind with my

rent, but hed been really good. Quite surprised me too.

Moss: Yes, hes good at surprising people. Hes made it a work of art, which

is more than can be said for his sculptures.

Nicole: Why are you and he so against each other?

Moss: Because hes a fraud and twenty-five percent German.

Nicole: What do you mean hes a fraud?

Moss: He pretends hes a sculptor, when he hasnt the slightest clue what

sculpture is all about. Hes a ponce. He's a rogue.

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Nicole: I think hes nice. And his sculptures have a certain quality to them.

Moss: Nice? Tell that to the Dutchman. Tell that to his girls. The mans

dangerous when hes roused. Must have that Teutonic blood rushing through

his veins like firewater. (Pause.) He punched me once for nothing more than

sniffing at a sculpture hed done. Punched me. Wham. Right on my nose.

Nicole: You must have upset him for him to do that.

Moss: Upset him? He has the skin of a rhino and the memory of an elephant.

Dont talk to me about upsetting him. He nearly broke my nose. Did nothing

for my features for weeks afterwards. (Pause. Looks at Nicole. Smiles.)However,

to be fair, he did come to my rescue once when these two muggers off

Trafalgar Square set upon me one night. Came in like a charging bull and

knocked one out and sent the other racing on his heels like a frighten cat.(Laughs.)Hes not all bad. Does have his good points. Drinks like a German

though, which, no doubt, youve noticed.

Nicole: He has been a little merry now and again. Danced with me around

his studio the other night, then fell over and went asleep on the floor where

he lay. I just put a blanket over him and left him there.

Moss: Best thing to do with the drunken sod. Let him lay where he falls.

Nicole :( Looks off stage left.)He seems to be having a right go with that

speaker now. (Moss looks left too.)His finger jabbing away like a spear.

Moss: Yes, that his way. Hope the speakers minders dont get involved. He

says things to rouse people then gets surprised when they lash out at him.

(Pause.)Hed make a good speaker himself. I dont know why he doesnt get

himself a wooden box, stand up there, and blast away until hes hoarse. Get

it all out of his system, the miserable bugger.

Nicole: Is his father still alive?

Moss: He doesnt say much about his father. Mostly his mother he talks

about or his mythical grandfather.

Nicole: I suppose we all have our skeletons in the cupboard, dont we?

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Moss: Yes, I suppose we do.

Nicole: Things wed rather not talk about.

Moss: People we prefer not to mention. Dark places best kept dark.

Nicole: Fears. Sins. Deeds done were ashamed of, but cant mention. (Pause.

Looks at her hands.)My mother would disown me if she knew half what Ive

done since leaving home. Im sure she thinks Im still a virgin. At least she

wants to think I am. And my brother Kirk has to pretend hes living with me

to keep her happy. Whereas in reality hes with his friend Douglas in a small

flat in Southwark. If she knew, there would be hell to pay. Wed be cast out

into the darkest regions of Hades. And Douglas is such a nice young man. A

waste really. Id quite like him for myself.

Moss: Oh, I see. Mummy would not appreciate that.

Nicole: No. Not at all.

Moss: My fathers none too happy about me being an artist. Thinks its all a

waste of my talents. I could earn more, he says, painting houses than bits of

canvas and cardboard. All that arty stuff is unreal, he told me the last time

I saw him. No good will come of you all the time youre shut up in that

studio place of yours, with your paint pots and brushes and weird friends.

And Shirley rarely has good word for me. Looks down at me now with her

posh town house and highbrow friends. However, she wasnt too proud once

upon a time to model for me and sometimes nigh on nude.

Nicole: I saw a picture in your studio of a woman semi-nude with a yellow

face and green eyes, was that her?

Moss: Yes, thats her. She didnt like it. Said it made her look like a circus

freak. I though it was good. Showed her inner self.(Pause. Smiles.)If my father

knew she posed in the way she did hed have belted us both. Shes anotherfraud. Pretends she better than she is. Forgets where she came from and who

she was. What she did. What she said when she was drunk.

Nicole: What did she do and say?

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Moss: She posed completely nude once for some female artist and said shed

slept with her. Not that I cared one bit. Alls fair in art and love. However, to

pretend now that shes almost a saint and her poo dont smell is too much.

Nicole: That painting thats on your wall above the old fireplace, what that

about?

Moss: That, my dear, is the mental image of my Aunt Flo.

Nicole: How do you know?

Moss: My mother says so.

Nicole: Has your mother seen the picture?

Moss: Yes. She saw it when she visited me last year. Thats Flo, she said.

Thats your Aunt Flo, who died of cancer three years ago. A mental

image. I painted it in a kind of trance. Now its in a special place so that I

can see her every day if I want to. Say hello to her. Thank her for letting me

stay in her house in the country when I was a kid.

Nicole: Strange. (Pause.) Maybe Ill let you paint me someday.

Moss: My pleasure.

Nicole: If you promise to be good and not take advantage of me.

Moss: You have my word. Not a finger shall touch your flesh. Not an eye

shall seek out your lovely body with lust.

Nicole: Not sure when. Soon perhaps.

Moss: Dont tell Otto. Hell only get jealous.

Nicole: I cant lie to him.

Moss: Just say nothing.

Nicole :( Looks off stage left.)Ottos coming back. And hes smiling.

End of Scene four.

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Act One. Scene Five.

Half an hour later. Nicole and Otto are sitting on a bench in the park. They are lookingout at the auditorium.

Otto: While Moss is looking for somewhere to relieve himself, I want to say

a few things about him.

Nicole: Is that fair, talking about someone while he's not here to defend

himself?

Otto: Didnt he talk about me while I was away talking to that communist?

Nicole: Yes, I suppose he did. But that doesnt mean he set out to talk about

you, it just came about as we talked.

Otto: Nonetheless, you talked about me.

Nicole: Yes. Nothing unkind or critical. Just things. And we talked about

ourselves most of the time. Things about our own lives. Our own fears and

anxieties.

Otto: And what fears and anxieties does Moss have? His art? His paintings?

Give any human being a paintbrush, and most will be able to dab a bit of oil

on canvas, and make a reasonable effort to create something recognisable.

Moss makes no such effort. Its all pretence with him. A woman ends uplooking like something out of a Dracula film or a childs nightmare. He

should have been a decorator like his father wanted him to be.

Nicole: Thats unfair. Moss paints well. When he makes the effort, his works

are delightful.

Otto: Delightful is not the word I would use. And effort is not something he

makes much use of. He stands in front of his canvas with his brush and

thinks where can I dab this colour? Shall I make this a round shape or shall Imake this face like a turnip or an orange.

Nicole: Why do you two make such comments about each others work?

Youre both artists. Youre both in the same field of creating beautiful

objects, so why be unkind to each other?

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Otto: Art should be truthful. It should be honest in what it represents and

aims to present before the world. Moss knows only falsehood and sham.

Hes fraudulent and dishonest in all that he does.

Nicole: Funny thing is he said the same about you.

Otto: Well there you are. What he does is project his own failings onto other

people and claims its they who are fraudulent and not he himself. The man

cant be trusted. Id not want to leave you alone with him for too long. Hes

a woman chaser. Always trying to lure them into his bed, even at his age.

Nicole: He said that about you too.

Otto: Did he now? (Pause.)What else did he say?

Nicole: That you saved him from muggers and that you have your good

points. Although he didnt mention what they were.

Otto: Yes, I remember that. Two of them jumped him and I was following

up behind after a short row and I saw red. I wasnt sure whether to join them

or hit out at them. I decided they were worse than he was and thumped into

them without thinking.

Nicole: Very commendable.

Otto: If theres one thing I dislike more than dishonest artists its criminals.

It was the choice of the least of two evils. (Pause. Smiles mildly.)However, to

be fair one has to take into account his background. His father is a narrow-

minded mechanic and his mother is a fortune-telling spiritualist. What can

one expect from such a soil? His mother claims Im the reincarnation of a

Nineteenth Century Scotsman called Angus McFlintock who, she said, was a

little known sculptor from the Highlands of Scotland.

Nicole: Sounds impressive.

Otto: Sounds fraudulent to me. Like the time she read my palm and said I

was going to marry at the age of forty-five to a woman with brown eyes and

fair hair.

Nicole: So you might, you never know.

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Otto: There are thousand of women with brown eyes and fair hair who I

could meet daily in London and not want to marry any of them. The

womans a fraud like her son.

Nicole: And your father, whats he like?

Otto :( Looks into the distance. Breathes in heavily and exhales hard.)I dont want to

talk about him.

Nicole: Why not?

Otto: Because I dont. I dont need to speak about him and I wont. (Ottolooks down at his hands. Nicole looks up at the sky. A few moments of silence descend.

Otto sighs.)Do you want to reveal all your dark secrets, Nicole? Are there not

areas of your life youd rather not speak about?

Nicole: Yes, I suppose there are. I didnt mean to pry. I didnt mean to upset

you, Otto.

Otto: Some things are best kept in the dark. Some people are best not spoken

about. They dont deserve the right. (Pause.)My mother has never been to this

country. I came here as a student in 1981 to study art and sculpture. I

obtained the necessary papers to remain here and so I have stayed. My

mother hates the British; she hasnt really forgiven me for coming here. In

addition, for studying here in the country that won the World Cup in 1966.

And my Uncle Hans refuses to speak to me since I came here. Therefore,

were not a happy family. In fact, you and Moss are the only family I have

of any importance. Even Moss means something I suppose.

Nicole: How sad.

Otto: Life is sad. Sad for millions of people every day. Except for us

privileged few in the modern world of the West.

Nicole: Are you religious at all?

Otto: Not in any ordinary way of the word. I dont believe in any of the

established religions. All false and outdated. A huge sham. However, I do

think there is something more important and everlasting than the mere short

life span we exist in.

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Nicole: Which is?

Otto: Ive no idea. I just think there is. Something more than this existence.

Nothing to do with morality, judgement, punishment, everlasting heaven, or

hell. Just something beautiful and endless.

Nicole: Sounds like heaven to me.

Otto: Take what you like of it and give it a name. Thats what is done

anyway.

Nicole: My mother made me pray every night before I went to sleep until I

was nearly sixteen. Then I pretended to pray. Eventually I gave it up and

pretended I was pretending to pray.

Otto: Sounds complicating. (Pause.)My mother prays everyday. She still

believes in all that she was taught as a child. She still finds Jews a problem.

Shed not like Moss at all.

Nicole: Moss is returning. (Looks intently to stage left.)He must have found

somewhere because hes walking normal now. When he went off to find a

loo, he was walking like Charlie Chaplin with a bad leg.

Otto: (Looking stage left too.)The man walks like a homosexual. He has a way

of swaying his hips when he walks, as if hed forgotten which gender he

belonged to.

Nicole: He walks quite normal.

Otto: Eyes can be deceived as well as brains can. Hes getting fat and middle

aged, sour, and grumpy.

Nicole: Arent we all, Otto, arent we all? Isnt life speeding past us too

quickly?

Otto: Too soon. Far too soon, my dear, Nicole. (Pause. They stare stage left insilence.)

End of Scene Five.

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Act One. Scene Six.

In the afternoon. Moss and Otto are standing looking into the auditorium.

Moss: Would you ever consider taking her to bed? (Looks at Otto.)

Otto: Who?

Moss: Nicole. (Raises his eyebrows.)

Otto: No. (Stares at Moss with stern eyes.)

Moss: Not even if she wanted you to?

Otto: Would you sleep with your sister if she wanted you to?

Moss: God forbid shed ever be that mad, but no, I wouldnt. Nonetheless,

Nicoles not my sister. Shes a pretty woman of thirty-seven with lovely legs

and fine figure.

Otto: She like a sister to me. I see her as such. And so should you, you

moronic numbskull.

Moss: Shes nothing like my sister, thank the gods. If she were, I might find

incest an interesting proposition.

Otto: Youre just not worth talking to at times. Youre just a sex maniac

with the brain age of a child of fourteen and the morals of a rat.

Moss: I didnt say I would go to bed with her, just that it wouldnt be

impossible to imagine.

Otto: If I hear of any news of such a thing, youll find it hard to walk again.

Moss: Just a thought I had thats all, nothing to get yourself all grumpy over.

Otto: Has she said anything to make you think she might?

Moss: No. (Shakes his head with a sad expression.)

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Otto: Then dont even think about it. Think of your good health and the sight

of your eyes and the use of your hands and fingers.

Moss: All right, all right. It was just something I had to ask you. No need to

get all angry over the mere mention of it. After all, youre no monk. Youve

had as many women in your bed as I have.

Otto: Not Nicole though. Not her. (Breathes out deeply.)

Moss: Shes pretty though, dont you think?

Otto: Beautiful. However, so is a rose in full bloom, but I admire it for what

it is. I dont go and cut it down and put it in vase to satisfy my lust for its

beauty.

Moss: All right. Subject closed.

Otto: So it ought to be.

Moss: So it is.

Otto: Thats all right then.

Moss: Yes. (Pause.)Weather looks unsettling. Might be rain.

Otto: Best park in London come rain or shine.

Moss: (Smiles.)Here comes, Nicole. (Both men wave.)Best woman in London,

come rain or shine. (Both men smile. Otto nods. Silence.)

End of Act One and Scene Six.

Act Two. Scene One.

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Two days later on a bright Sunday morning. Nicole and Otto are sitting on a bench in the

park. Nicole is holding a guitar on her knee. She is wearing a red knee-length dress andsimple black shoes. Otto is wearing an old grey shirt and jeans.

Nicole: No sign of Moss.

Otto: Sign of a good day, then. Better than the promised heat wave.

Nicole: He said hed meet us here. Said he was going to bring me

something.

Otto: Beware of Jews bearing gifts.

Nicole: I thought it was Greeks bearing gifts.

Otto: So rumour has it, but Im sure it was the Jews.

Nicole: You sound anti-Semitic. I never saw you as a man of prejudice.

Otto: Only in Mosss case.

Nicole: Hes not as bad as you make him out to be. Hes quite sensitive.

Otto: The mans a fake. I cant abide fakes.

Nicole: Arent we all fakes to a degree?

Otto: Am I a fake do you think? Me? You think Im a fake? (Pause.)Theres

nothing fake about me, Nicole. Ive never pretended to be what Im not.

(Pause. Otto looks out over the auditorium.)See these people going about their

private journeys? They all think theyre genuine. Think theyre important.

Think theyre worth something in the grand scheme of things. But

ultimately, theyre not worth a thing. Theyre not important at all. In a

hundred years, no one will miss them or even know they existed. Dust to

dust, ashes to ashes, sort of thing. Theyre fakes, most of them. Puffed up

with their own importance and ideals. Fakes.

Nicole: Thats a bit harsh isnt it? I mean theyre just ordinary people doing

what ordinary people do. What ordinary people have done for centuries.

Otto: Dont be blinded by what you read in books and newspapers, Nicole.

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The whole scheme of things is one big sham. (Pause.) My maternal

grandfather was an opera singer. He was quite good in his day, so Ive been

told. Had a bright future. Could have been a famous Wotan or some such

role, but the War took him off and made an invalid of him. My mother says

he would sit in his wheelchair staring into space most of the day. His dreams

had gone. His hopes dashed. He saw through all the sham and saw how fake

it all was. (Pause.)Then, in 1967, after seeing a performance of

Gotterdammerung, he went home and committed suicide.

Nicole: How sad.

Otto: Sadness is the reverse side of the coin of life. All life is made up of the

tossing of this coin. Depending how it falls and on which side it falls, ones

fate is dependent on the random toss of the coin and the results that follow.

Nicole: And where does God come into all this? Or doesnt He come in at

all?

Otto: Do you think God is the one who tosses the coin? That its He who

decides the fate of millions on the toss of a coin?

Nicole: Im not sure about God anymore. I used to think like a good catholic

girl, but now Im unsure about any of it. God, church or religion as a whole.

However, if I did believe in God, I dont think He would depend on a tossed

coin to make decisions about the fate of millions.

Otto: He might as well have done seeing the way the whole world is now.

Nicole: No, Otto, you cant say that. Youre too blinkered by your own

unhappy past. Lifes not as dismal as you think. Many millions of people are

quite happy with their lives and what they have.

Otto: Nonsense, Nicole. Utter bilge. People are contented because theyve

been programmed to be contented with what they have.

Nicole: Programmed? You sound like George Orwell and his 1984.

Otto: He saw things more clearly than most. (Pause.) Nothing fake about

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Orwell. (Pause.)Moss, however, is one huge fake. A painter of mediocre

pictures who believes hes the next Picasso. Pretends he knows the key to all

art. Pretends his life is only important because of his art. Pretends his

pictures are worth the canvas theyre dabbed on. (Pause. Sighs deeply.)He

paints like a child. He has the mind of a child.

Nicole: Hes kind to me. He wants to make me happy. He goes out of his

way to do things for me.

Otto: Be careful of him. Hes a rake.

Nicole: Not to me he isnt.

Otto: In time he could be. Given a moment of weakness. (Pause.)Lust waits

its chance.

Nicole: Are you jealous of him?

Otto: Of Moss? (Laughs.)Only a fool could be jealous of him. He has nothing

that Im jealous of.

Nicole: Jealousy is the fear of losing what you already have to another.

Youve mistaken jealousy for envy.

Otto: I fear nothing about him nor envy what he has.

Nicole: Do you think he may try to get me into his bed before you do?

Otto: Thats not true at all. Ive never seen you in that light. Never seen you

as someone to lust after.

Nicole: Why? Am I not pretty enough for you?

Otto: I see you as a good friend. A beautiful person. Never have I lustedafter you. Unlike Moss who no doubt dribbles in his dreams at night.

Nicole: As he said as much? Has he given you any reason that he might feel

like that? (Otto sniffs angrily and rises from the bench.)Has he, Otto?

Otto: Not in so many words. However, I know him. Know how his mind

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works. Know how his eyes look. I can feel his lust from where I am when

youre about. Its in his pores. In his stinking Jewish pores.

Nicole: Otto! Thats enough. (Pause. Otto walks downstage to the edge of the stage

and peers out, breathing heavily.)I wont have you calling him things like that.

Hes a human being, not some rag doll to be tossed about and trod on. (Pause.

She rises and walks downstage and stands beside Otto.)Hes human. Not an insect to

be looked down upon or disposed of. Hes flesh and blood like you and me.(Pause. She touches Ottos arm. Otto looks at her briefly, and then looks outward with a

stern face.)If he does lust after me, then hes kept it well hidden from me. Ive

not seen it in his looks nor heard it in his words.

Otto: Youre too pure to see any of it. He would bed you any moment you

gave a hint of it.

Nicole: Would he? And is that the same as raping me?

Otto: I didnt say he would rape you. I said he lusted after you.

Nicole: Did he say he did?

Otto: Its there in what he says even if he doesnt say it as such. (Looks at

Nicole again.)I only want to protect you from him and men like him. I mean

no harm.

Nicole: Im no virgin. Im no pure child of twelve.

Otto: I know. (Pause. Looks at Nicoles hands. He holds one to his lips and kisses

it.)However, to me youre as pure as the morning mist. (Releases her hand.)And

Moss is as foul as bad eggs sitting in a bowl of vomit.

Nicole: And youre the saint of saints are you? No thought of sex enters your

mind when I undress in your studio at night? No idea of what it would be

like to have me beside you in your bed?

Otto: Never. Not at all. (Pause.)I may love you, but in a way I would a sister.

But never in the way you may think.

Nicole :( Looks at Otto and touches his arm again.)My big brother. My big sad

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brother with the eyes of a bloodhound. (Otto smiles weakly.)But Moss is

brotherly too. Though in a different way to you, Different in a way.

Otto: Youre mistaken there.

Nicole: Am I?

Otto: Yes, very mistaken. (Pause. Nicole moves away and sits on the bench again.)

Nicole: Hes going to paint my portrait.

Otto :( Turns and stares at Nicole.)You want that?

Nicole: Yes.

Otto: Why?

Nicole: To please him. To make him happy.

Otto: And me? Would you have posed for me?

Nicole: I would now. If you wanted me to.

Otto: I could at least capture your beauty. He will make a mockery of you.

(Pause. Otto shakes his head.)How can you allow him to lust over you?

Nicole: He only wants to paint me. Hes going to do me in oils. I shall be up

there on his walls until someone buys me.

Otto: What a dream. What a nightmare.

Nicole: You are jealous. I can hear it in your words.

Otto: I have to go. If he doesnt turn up, Ill meet you later. (Otto walks offstage right. Nicole watches him go, then looks out at the auditorium. Silence.)

End of Scene One.

Act Two. Scene Two.

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A little later. Moss and Nicole are sitting at a table of an outdoor caf in the park. They

have a glass of coke each. Nicoles guitar is by her chair. Moss is wearing an opennecked white shirt and black trousers.

Moss: Did you tell him?

Nicole: Who?

Moss: Otto.

Nicole: Tell him what?

Moss: About us?

Nicole: No. (Pause.)Not in so many words. I couldnt actually tell him.

Moss: Very wise, I suppose. But hell have to know soon.

Nicole: You tell him, then.

Moss: Im a coward at the best of times. Today Im feeling very cowardly.

Nicole: I told him about you painting me. I said that much.

Moss: What did he say?

Nicole: He wasnt happy about it. (Pause. She sips from her glass.)

Moss: Do you think he suspects?

Nicole: What about us? No, I dont think so. (Pause.)He warned me about

you.

Moss: What about me?

Nicole: Said you werent to be trusted. (Pause.)Said you lusted after me.

Moss: I see. (Pause. Moss sips from his glass. Looks at Nicole.)Do you think I do?

Nicole: I dont know. Do you?

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Moss: No, not in the way he thinks. (Pause.)He always thinks the worse of

me. He thinks Im no better than a lust-filled moron.

Nicole: I cant understand why you two are so against each other, yet mix so

much together when you dont have to. You must both be masochists or

sadists.

Moss: A little of each I suspect. (Pause. Sips his drink.)How are you?

Nicole: Tired.

Moss: What time did you get back to the studio last night?

Nicole: About quarter to one this morning.

Moss: Did Otto say anything?

Nicole: No, he was asleep. (Pause. Sips her drink.)At least he seemed to be

asleep. He may have been faking it of course. Pretending to be asleep.

Moss: No, thats not his way. Hed have been up and waiting if hed been

awake. Did he say anything this morning?

Nicole: No. (Pause. Looks away from Moss. Sighs.)I cant deceive him.

Moss: Hes not your husband or father.

Nicole: No, I know, but I cant deceive him. Hes not the type of person one

can deceive. (Pause. Looks back at Moss.)Hes unhappy about something.

Moss: Arent we all, dear. Lifes a bugger at times. (Pause. Sips his drink and

stares at Nicole.)So whats bothering him do you think? Age? His work?

Jealousy?

Nicole: I dont know. Something deeper than that.

Moss: Deeper? What can he possibly get moody over thats deeper than you

or us or age or life itself?

Nicole: I dont know, Moss. If I did know, Id not ask you would I?

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Moss: Oh, hes like that at times. Hes a moody bastard. Nothing more to

say. Just him. The way he is. Always has been since Ive known him.

Nicole: Friday night he said he wanted to tell me something that was

troubling him.

Moss: And did he?

Nicole: No. He was going to, but he stopped. Clamed up. Went all silent.

(Pause. She sips her drink.)I wish hed told me whatever it was he was troubled

over. Now hes in a dark mood.

Moss: Has he tried to get you into bed?

Nicole: No, I told you that yesterday. Hes never made any attempt at all.

Moss: Good. (Pause. Sips his drink. Looks at Nicole intensely. Looks away. A fewmoments of silence.)

Nicole: I didnt mean it to happen last night.

Moss :( Looks at Nicole.)Have you any regrets?

Nicole: Im not sure.

Moss: Thanks.

Nicole: No, I mean, it all happened so quickly. I didnt mean for it to happen

in the way it did.

Moss: How did you mean it to happen?

Nicole: I didnt realise quite what or how I really felt. (Pause.)That sounds abit of muddle doesnt it?

Moss: Thats how women are. Muddled thinkers. They feel, never think.

Nicole: Thats not fair. I do think. About lots of things.

Moss: Do you regret making love?

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Nicole: No. I never regret that. Its what follows on from that that worries

me.

Moss: Follows on from what?

Nicole: What happened last night.

Moss: Dont you feel anything for me?

Nicole: Yes, of course I do. But I dont want things to be rushed.

Moss: Rushed? What do you think Im going to do rush off and arrange for

us to get married?

Nicole: I dont know. I just dont want things to get beyond my control.

Moss: Are you frightened of close relationships? Frightened of getting too

close to people?

Nicole: I just dont want things to get beyond my control or me. (Pause. She

sips the last of her drink and pushes the glass away.)I got pregnant once.

Moss: Pregnant? When was this?

Nicole: Ten years ago. I was twenty-seven. Got pregnant with this

Spaniards child.

Moss: Well, theres a thing. Little Miss Purity isnt so pure after all.

Nicole: I didnt say I was. It was you and Otto who assumed I was. I said I

wasnt many times. Only neither of you believed me.

Moss: So, what happened to this child?

Nicole: She died. (Pause.) In my arms. Two days old. (Pause. She looks away and

sniffs.)I held her in my arms for quite some time. Thought that if I held her

long enough shed come back to life and prove them all wrong. (Pause.)But

she didnt. She just became colder. I didnt want them to take her from me.

Didnt want her not to be in my arms anymore. (Pause. Sniffs again.)And then

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she was gone. My little Judy was gone. (Pause. She looks at Moss. Her eyes are

tearful.)Pain is not something you can forget so easy. You think you can, but

then on certain days all the pain comes rushing back and hits you like a

punch in the stomach so hard youre knocked sideways by it. (Pause.)Some

nights I dream Im holding her again. Holding her and her eyes open and she

smiles. And for a few moments, Im happy and overjoyed, but then it hits

me that its only a dream. A poor dream at that. (Pause.)A damned poor

dream.

Moss: What did the father say?

Nicole: He didnt want to know. He said it wasnt his and even if it was his,

he wasnt interested.

Moss: Does Otto know?

Nicole: No. Ive told no one but you.

Moss: I see. (Pause.)I dont suppose your parents know?

Nicole: I could never tell them, theyd be so ashamed. My mother would die

of shame. A thousand Hail Mary or Our Fathers would make no difference

to the sin as far as she would be concerned.

Moss: Did you have the baby buried?

Nicole: Yes. Little Judy had a small service. (Pause. Sighs.)Only me, the

clergyman, and a nurse from the ward. Sad little coffin. White wood. (Risesup and stares at Moss. The she picks up her guitar and rushes off stage left. Moss looks at

her rushing off. He stands but doesnt follow her. He sighs. Sips the remainder of his

drink and then walks off stage left slowly.)

End of Scene Two.

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Act Two. Scene Three.

Some time later in the park. Moss and Otto are standing on the edge of the stage lookingover the auditorium.

Otto: Wheres she gone?

Moss: Who?

Otto: Nicole.

Moss: She went off across the park.

Otto: Didnt she say where she was going?

Moss: No. (Pause.)She was upset about something.

Otto: What did you say to upset her?

Moss: Nothing. (Pause.) She was concerned about something.

Otto: What have you done to upset her?

Moss: Nothing. What do you take me for?

Otto :( Turns and glares at Moss.)I wouldnt want to say. Something isnt rightwith you and her. Youre up to something.

Moss: Shes the one with the problem not me.

Otto: Youre a liar.

Moss: She went off after telling me something. She was upset.

Otto :( He grabs hold of Moss by his shirt.)If youre lying to me, Moss, Ill breakyour neck. She wouldnt just run off without a reason. What happened? She

was all right when I saw her last. (Releases Moss from his grip.)You hurt her?

Moss: No. (Brushes down his shirt.)Nothing I did. She got pregnant once and it

rather upset her to bring it all up.

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Otto: Pregnant? Nicole? When?

Moss: Ten years ago, she said.

Otto: Why did she tell you this?

Moss: How do I know? She just came out with it. Spewed up her past like it

was vomit.

Otto: So, what happened? (Pause. Moss looks at Otto with uncertainty.)To the

baby?

Moss: It died. (Pause.)Died in her arms. It was only a few days old. Kind of

broke her up. Well it would wouldnt it. I mean women are like that arent

they?

Otto: She never told me this. Never mentioned anything about it.

Moss: Well I never knew until she told me a while ago. It just came out of

her. Then she was off. (Pause.)Maybe shes at your place.

Otto: Why would she go there?

Moss: Well its her home isnt it. They go home to cry dont they?

Otto: Whos they? Whom are you meaning by they?

Moss: Women. Theyre all the same. Tears and emotions.

Otto: Havent you ever cried? Havent you ever had a pain so hurtful that

you need to cry?

Moss: Yes, I guess. (Pause.)So where is she? Do you think she might be at

your place?

Otto: If youre lying to me Jew boy, Ill kill you.

Moss: Not so much of the name-calling, Krauthead.

Otto: (Smiles weakly.)Sure. She may be at the studio.

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Moss: Lets go see. (Pause. Moves upstage a few paces, then stops.)Aren't you

coming?

Otto: Yes, in a moment. Whats the rush?

Moss: She was pretty upset; Id like to see how she is.

Otto: Do you think I dont? How comes she runs off when youre about and

not when she was with me?

Moss: The way it is, I guess. She confided in me.

Otto: What have you done to her? (Becomes menacing again.)She doesnt just

run off because of some child way back. You must have done something.

Moss: No. (Looks at Otto with anxious eyes.)All right, all right. (Pause. Moves

further upstage and stops.)We slept together Saturday night. (Pause. Watches

Otto.)She was willing. I never forced her in anyway.

Otto :( Moves upstage towards Moss, but stops and stares at him.)I knew. Youd do it

with your own sister if she were willing. Youre an animal. A bloody

animal.

Moss: Oh, sure, as always you blame me. I never forced her. She wanted it

as much I did. She was all over me. (Pause. Moss looks at Otto who is a few paces

away.)I like her. Shes cute and warm and cares about me.

Otto: You disappoint me. (Pause. Otto walks back downstage and stops on the edge

of the stage peering out at the auditorium.)I thought that this time it would be

different. Thought maybe youd found someone who was more than a

bedfellow. More than a sleeping partner. (Pause.)Was it good? Was it worth

it? (Pause.)What was it like? Was she good at it? Is she what you expected?

Moss: Dont say those things you make it sound cheap.

Otto: Dont tell me you actually thought about it in any other sense than pure

sex?

Moss: Shes not a whore. Shes our friend. Shes Nicole. Remember her?

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Otto: Sure. (Pause.)Not so pure though. Not now. Kind of dirtied the waters a

bit havent you? You always manage to spoil things. You touch and taint.

Moss: Shes still the same person. Still Nicole.

Otto: Yes, of course, she is, but youve rather messed with her havent you.

Made her a piece property. Your property.

Moss: That isnt true. Shes our friend. Good old Nicole the folk singer.

Otto :( Sighs.)I had a girlfriend when I was young and I thought she was

special. We went everywhere together. Always in each others company and

sharing things and loving the same things and I thought she was the one I

wanted to marry one day and have my children with. (Pause.)Really thought

she was the one. Thought she was kind of pure and honest. (Pause. Sighsdeeply.)Then one day I came home early to my parents house and she was in

bed with my father. Actually in bed with the bastard. (Pause.)I thought I was

seeing things. Thought it was some kind of weird dream. I stood there and

watched for a few minutes because they didnt know I was there and then I

went for them. Like a crazy man I was, like a mad man. (Pause.)My father

went off with her. He and she were pretty beat up, but I didnt care. I felt

betrayed. She was just a seventeen year old like me. Off they went. My

mother blamed me. Strange isnt it how people react to things. I was to

blame. I was the outcast. Exiled to England. (Pause.)My girlfriend Karla left

him some months after and later married some one from Berlin. My father

was last heard of in Dresden. Good riddance to him. Good bloody riddance.

Moss: I didnt know about that Otto. Sorry. (Pause.)Didnt mean to hurt you

or betray you in any way.

Otto: Where is she do you think?

Moss: Your place most likely.

Otto: What makes you think that?

Moss: Because she thinks a lot of you.

Otto: So you say. But youre a liar.

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Moss: No, she says so. She says she (Pause.)Loves you.

Otto: Liar! Damned liar! (Otto moves upstage and Moss moves further upstage.)

Moss: No. Im not lying. Find her and ask her. See what she says.

Otto :( Stops. Pause.)If youre lying, youll never paint again. Unless you paint

with a brush up your backside.

Moss: Find her and see. Just wait and ask her. (Moves towards Otto cautiously.The two men meet and stare at each other. Otto sighs. Moss sighs. They move downstage

together.)You can show me your latest work.

Otto: Do you think Id let you put your eyes on my work?

Moss: Isnt it good enough for me?

Otto: Too good. Its a work of art.

Moss: Thatll be a change.

Otto: Change is as good as a rest they say. As good as a rest. (Both men walkoff stage left. Silence.)

End of Scene Three.

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Act Two. Scene Four.

Two days later in the park. A warm morning. Moss, Nicole and Otto come jogging onstage right and come to a stop by a bench. They stand apart out of breath each bending

over with their hands on their knees. All are dressed in jogging bottoms and Tee shirts.

They stand and look at each other for a few moments, then one by one they sit on thebench. Moss is on the left; Nicole is centre and Otto on the right.

Moss: Whos bright idea was this?

Nicole: Keeps you fit. Makes you more wide-awake for what you do.

Painting in your case. And sculpturing in Ottos case. (Pause.)And I just want

to keep fit and trim.

Otto: Youre already fit and trim. Youre fitter than we two are.

Nicole: Well take me as a kind of inspiration.

Moss: Ive not run so far, since Maggie Marshals husband chased me one

winters morning when I lived in Camberwell Green. (Pause.)Almost caught

me as well. Missed me by a cats whisker. Jumped on a bus. (Pause.) I had to

creep back that night to my lodgings and collect my belongings and move to

a friends place in Chelsea. He was a big feller. Hands like shovels.

Otto: Shame he missed you.

Nicole: What did you do with this Maggie Marshal?

Moss: He was a part time model. He found out and thought there was

something going on.

Otto: And was there?

Moss: In a way there was. Only part time though. Nothing full on or

anything serious.

Otto: Never is with you. Youre one big part time showman. And painter.

Nicole: Moss has started on my portrait.

Otto: Has he? Well miracles do happen do they?

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Moss: I said I would and I have.

Otto: Thats not all youve started is it?

Nicole: Otto, lets not go down that road again.

Otto: Im entitled to have my say.

Moss: None of your business.

Otto: Youll have no business if I deal with you.

Nicole: Stop it you two. I wont have it. (Pause.)It was an error of judgement.

Moss: Yes, listen to the lady.

Otto: You and that mouth of yours are like an old married couple.

Moss: Youre just a failed stone chiseller.

Otto: Youre a mediocre painter with the talent of a two year old.

Moss: Youre a lost cause.

Otto: Youre a bone shaking paint peddler.

Moss: And youre a windbag.

Otto: Youre a Jewish ham-sucking painter.

Moss: Youre a Kraut headed fire breather.

Nicole: Stop it! I cant put up with this nonsense. (Pause.)I love you both.

Each for different reasons. Each in a different way. I made the mistake insleeping with Moss. It was a mistake. He and I know that now. Im still with

you, Otto. Still in your studio sleeping. Still there. (Pause.)Lets try to make

this relationship work. Were supposed to be friends. We need friends.

Moss: Theres a limit to friendship.

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Otto: Theres a limit to how much one can stand of you, too

Nicole: Youre not listening to me. Youre off on some personal vendetta.

This has nothing to do with me. I dont want to get involved in any of that.

Moss: I dont want anything to do with it either. Its him. Its Otto with his

idea that Im worth picking a fight with for some reason known only to him.

Otto: Youre a fake thats why. A damned fake. A fake in your art and in

your life.

Moss: I love my art and engaged in it with all that I have and am.

Otto: And still youre a fake.

Moss: Am I a fake, Nicole?

Nicole :( She stands up, walks to the edge of the stage, and stares out over the

auditorium.)Were all fakes to a degree. Were all bogus in our dealings with

other people at times. We sometimes play phoney roles as if we were actors

on the worlds stage. We pretend were honest or kind or love someone, but

sometimes deep down were just counterfeits. (Pause.) However, I dont think

youre anymore fake anyone else, Moss. (Turns and looks at Otto.)Why do you

say hes a fake, Otto?

Otto: Because he pretends hes something he isnt.

Moss: What do I pretend to be, then?

Otto: An artist. You pretend to be an artist, but in reality, youre just a

painter of mediocre pictures. A picture painter. Nothing more nothing less.

Moss: I learnt the techniques of painting in college, but I am an artist by

instinct, by birth.

Otto :( Laughs to himself.) Hear that, Nicole? By birth. By instinct. The mans

a fool.

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Moss: Maybe I am a fool. Maybe Im not the kind of artist you admire, but

Im still an artist. (Rises up quickly, goes, and stands next to Nicole. Otto shakes hishead.)

Otto: Shame your parents never thought the same. Your father thought you a

fake too.

Moss: Liar!

Otto: He said so to me.

Moss :( Turns around and glares at Otto. Nicole also turns and stares at Otto.)My

father wouldnt know an artist if it was tattooed on my forehead in large

letters with the confirmation of Picasso to boot. He sees no further than a car

engine. If a thing doesnt have four wheels and an engine, hes notinterested. (Pause. Sighs deeply.) He only sees the mundane and ordinary. He

always puts me down. Saying Id achieve nothing. Said I was all mouth and

no content. (Pause.)Yet I loved him. Thought the world of him. Even when I

was an artist and he saw my paintings he would criticise because Id not

become a decorator nor had a real job. And even my sister, who at one time

supported me and modelled for me. (Pause. Looks away.) And loved me,

betrayed me eventually. One can only take so much betrayal. Shirley

betrayed me at a time I needed her most.

Otto: Your sisters a snob. Shes settled for a fake life.

Nicole: Youre an artist, Moss. Ive seen your paintings. Theyre good.

Theyve got meaning, theyve truthfulness written large all over them.

Otto: Some arent too bad, I guess. (Pause.) That large one on the wall by the

fireplace is quite good. Has a touch of artistry about it if one looks at it hard.

Moss: Shirley was my inspiration. My fix. My Mona Lisa. Id paint her a

thousand times and never get tired of it. (Pause. Moves away a few paces.)Shehad the features that would haunt me and keep me awake at night. I would

paint her repeatedly in different poses, in different ways and angles and

never once was I sick of seeing her. (Pause. Lowers his head and stares at his feet.)I

thought it could go on forever. Thought shed stay with me until we were

old and infirm, but she left. Left me stranded high and dry. (Pause. Looks at

Nicole.)Ive painted nothing worth a thing since shes been gone.

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Nicole: Whyd she leave, Moss?

Moss :( Looks at Nicole deeply.)She said we were too close. (Pause.)Said we

were too near to each other and that it was becoming dangerous. (Pause. Looks

away from Nicole.)So she left.

Otto: What did she mean too dangerous?

Moss: She was frightened we might cross the barrier.

Nicole: What do you mean? What barrier?

Moss: She used to creep into my bed at night sometimes if the studio got

cold and wed just sleep together, but not doing anything, not do anything at

all, just cuddle up close and sleep like we did as kids.

Otto: Thats not good, Moss.

Nicole: Thats a little too close. (Looks at Moss with a gaze of uncertainty.)She

was wise to leave when she did. You were too close, Moss. Too close.

Otto: So nothing happened?

Moss: No, what do you take me for? Do you think Id do something like

that? My own sister? Id rather cut my throat with a knife.

Otto: Did she think it would happen?

Moss: I never thought about it in that way. Never thought anything about

that side of it. Thought we were justBrother and sister who loved each

other. No more than that. Until she said, it had not even occurred to me.

(Pause.)Now shes married to the big rich guy and has it all.

Otto: Strange. Really strange. And I thought I knew you. Guess I dont knowyou at all. And to think your sister kissed me once.

Nicole: Dark secrets are best kept locked away. Locked away in some dark

room inside our minds. Each of us has things that haunt us. Let them unite

us. (All nod and look at each other for a few moments. Then all leave stage right.)

End of Act two and Scene Four.

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She Shall Have Music