FullReads

STRANGER
. Oh no, not an invention. . . . A discovery.

LADY PEMBURY
. How proud she would have been!

STRANGER
. Who?

LADY PEMBURY
. Your wife if you had had one; your mother if she had been alive.

STRANGER
(violently). Look here, you leave my mother out of it. My business is with Sir John—- (sneeringly) Sir John Pembury, K.B.E. If I want to talk about my mother, he and I will have a nice little talk together about her. Yes, and about my father, too.

(LADY PEMBURY understands at last. She stands up slowly, and looks at him, horrified.)

LADY PEMBURY
. What do you mean?

STRANGER
. A thousand a year. You said so yourself. Yes, I think it’s worth a thousand a year.

LADY PEMBURY
. Who is your father? What’s your name?

STRANGER
. Didn’t I tell you I hadn’t got a name? (Bitterly) And if you want to know why, ask Sir John Pembury, K.B.E.

LADY PEMBURY
(in a whisper). He’s your father.

STRANGER
. Yes. And I’m his loving son–come to see him at last, after all these years.

LADY PEMBURY
(hardly able to ask it). How–how old are you?

STRANGER
. Thirty.

LADY PEMBURY
(sitting down on the sofa). Oh, thank God! Thank God!

STRANGER
(upset by her emotion). Look here, I didn’t want all this. I ask you–did I begin it? It was you who kept asking questions. I just came for a quiet talk with Sir John–Father and Son talking together quietly–talking about Son’s allowance. A thousand a year. What did you want to come into it for?

(LADY PEMBURY is quiet again now. She wipes away a tear or two, and sits up, looking at him thoughtfully.)

LADY PEMBURY
. So you are the son that I never had.

STRANGER
. What d’you mean?

LADY PEMBURY
(almost to herself). The son whom I wanted so. Five girls–never a boy. Let me look at you. (She goes up to him.)

STRANGER
(edging away). Here, none of that.

LADY PEMBURY
(looking at him earnestly to see if she can see a likeness). No–and yet–(shaking her head sadly) Poor boy! What an unhappy life you must have had!

STRANGER
. I didn’t come here to be pitied. I came to get my rightful allowance–same as any other son.

LADY PEMBURY
(to herself). Poor boy! (She goes back to her seat and then says) You don’t mind my asking you questions now, do you?

STRANGER
. Go on. There’s no mistake about it. I can promise you that.

LADY PEMBURY
. How did you find out? Did your Mother tell you?

STRANGER
. Never a word. “Don’t ask questions, sonny—-” “Father’s dead”–all that sort of thing.

LADY PEMBURY
. Does Sir John know? Did he ever know?

STRANGER
(feeling in his pocket). He knew right enough. (Bringing out letters) Look here–here you are. This was how I found out. (Selecting one) There–read that one.

LADY PEMBURY
(taking it). Yes–that’s John’s writing. (She holds it out to him.)

STRANGER
. Aren’t you going to read it?

LADY PEMBURY
(shaking her head pathetically). He didn’t write it to me.

STRANGER
. He didn’t write it to me, if it comes to that.

LADY PEMBURY
. You’re her son–you have a right. I’m–nobody.

STRANGER
(putting it back in his pocket). Oh well, please yourself.

LADY PEMBURY
. Did Sir John provide for your mother?