FullReads

MRS. HIGGINS
(taken aback). What’s this?

PHILIP
. Your wages instead of notice. Now you can go at once.

MRS. HIGGINS
. Who said anything about going?

PHILIP
(surprised). I’m sorry; I thought you did.

MRS. HIGGINS
. If it’s only a bit of breakfast, I don’t say but what I mightn’t get it, if I’m asked decent.

PHILIP
(putting back the cheque). Then let me say again, “Two eggs, ham and coffee.” And Mary can bring the ham up at once, and I’ll get going on that. (Turning away) Thanks very much.

MRS. HIGGINS
. Well, I–well–well! [Exit speechless.]

PHILIP
(surprised). Is that all she ever says? It isn’t much to worry about.

EMILY
. Philip, how could you! I should have been terrified.

PHILIP
. Well, you see, I’ve done your job for two years out there.

EMILY
. What job?

PHILIP
. Mess President…. I think I’ll go and see about that ham.

(He smiles at her and goes out into the dining-room. AUNT EMILY wanders round the room, putting a few things tidy as is her habit, when she is interrupted by the entrance of UNCLE JAMES. JAMES is not a big man, nor an impressive one in his black morning-coat; and his thin straggly beard, now going grey, does not hide a chin of any great power; but he has a severity which passes for strength with the weak.)

JAMES
. Philip down yet?

EMILY
. He’s just having his breakfast.

JAMES
(looking at his watch). Ten o’clock. (Snapping it shut and putting it back) Ten o’clock. I say ten o’clock, Emily.

EMILY
. Yes, dear, I heard you.

JAMES
. You don’t say anything?

EMILY
(vaguely). I expect he’s tired after that long war.

JAMES
. That’s no excuse for not being punctual. I suppose he learnt punctuality in the Army?

EMILY
. I expect he learnt it, James, but I understood him to say that he’d forgotten it.

JAMES
. Then the sooner he learns it again the better. I particularly stayed away from the office to-day in order to talk things over with him, and (looking cat his watch) here’s ten o’clock–past ten–and no sign of him. I’m practically throwing away a day.

EMILY
. What are you going to talk to him about?

JAMES
. His future, naturally. I have decided that the best thing he can do is to come into the business at once.

EMILY
. Are you really going to talk it over with him, James, or are you just going to tell him that he must come?

JAMES
(surprised). What do you mean? What’s the difference? Naturally we shall talk it over first, and–er–naturally he’ll fall in with my wishes.

EMILY
. I suppose he can hardly help himself, poor boy.

JAMES
. Not until he’s twenty-five, anyhow. When he’s twenty-five he can have his own money and do what he likes with it.

EMILY
(timidly). But I think you ought to consult him at little, dear. After all, he has been fighting for us.

JAMES
(with his back to the fire). Now that’s the sort of silly sentiment that there’s been much too much of. I object to it strongly. I don’t want to boast, but I think I may claim to have done my share. I gave up my nephew to my country, and I–er–suffered from the shortage of potatoes to an extent that you probably didn’t realize. Indeed, if it hadn’t been for your fortunate discovery about that time that you didn’t really like potatoes, I don’t know how we should have carried on. And, as I think I’ve told you before, the excess-profits tax seemed to me a singularly stupid piece of legislation–but I paid it. And I don’t go boasting about how much I paid.