Night Must Fall | Page 5

Emlyn Williams
and goes to the right window. HUBERT _hurries into the
sun-room._ MRS. BRAMSON is wheeled back from the kitchen by
MRS. TERENCE, _to the centre of the room. She_ (MRS. BRAMSON)
_has found the pretext for the scene she has been longing to make since
she got up this morning._
MRS. BRAMSON: Fetch that girl here. This minute.
MRS. TERENCE: Oh, leave the child alone.
MRS. BRAMSON: Leave her alone, the little sneak-thief? Fetch her
here.

MRS. TERENCE (_at the top of her voice_): Dora! (_Opening the
front door and calling into the trees_) Dora!
OLIVIA: What's Dora done now?
MRS. BRAMSON: Broken three of my Crown Derby, that's all.
Thought if she planted them in the rose-bed I wouldn't be well enough
ever to see them, I suppose. Well, I have seen.
MRS. TERENCE (_crossing and calling to the bedroom_): You're
wanted.
DORA'S VOICE: What for?
MRS. TERENCE: She wants to kiss you good morning, what d'you
think....
_She collects the table-cloth, fetches a vase from the mantelpiece, and
goes into the kitchen._ DORA _enters gingerly from the bedroom,
carrying a cup and saucer on a tray._
DORA: Did you want me, mum?
MRS. BRAMSON: Crown Derby to you, my girl.
DORA (_uncertain_): Beg pardon, mum?
MRS. BRAMSON: I suppose you think that china came from Marks
and Spencer?
DORA: Oh.... (_Snivelling_) Oh ... oh ...
OLIVIA (coming between DORA and MRS. BRAMSON): Come
along, Dora, it's not as bad as all that.
DORA: Oh, yes, it is.... Oh....
MRS. BRAMSON: You can leave, that's all. You can leave.

_Appalled,_ DORA _drops the tray and breaks the saucer._
That settles it. Now you'll have to leave.
DORA (_with a cry_): Oh, please I ... (_Kneeling, and collecting
broken china_) Oh, ma'am--I'm not meself, you see.... (_Snivelling_)
I'm in a terrible trouble....
MRS. BRAMSON: Have you been stealing?
DORA (_shocked_): Oh, no!
OLIVIA (_after a pause_): Are you going to have a baby?
_After a pause, DORA nods._
DORA (_putting the china in her apron_): The idea of me stealing.... I
do go to Sunday school, anyways....
MRS. BRAMSON: So that's the game. Wouldn't think butter would
melt in her mouth.... You'll have to go, of course; I can't have that sort
of thing in this house--and stop squeaking! You'll bring my heart on
again. It's all this modern life. I've always said so. All these films and
rubbish.
OLIVIA: My dear auntie, you can't have a baby by just sitting in the
pictures.
MRS. BRAMSON: Go away, and don't interfere.
OLIVIA goes to the left window. DORA _rises.
(Triumphantly_) So you're going to have a child. When?
DORA (_sniffling_): Last August Bank Holiday....
MRS. BRAMSON: What?... Oh!
DORA: I 'aven't got a penny only what I earn--and if I lose my job

'ere--
MRS. BRAMSON: He'll have to marry you.
DORA: Oh, I don't think he's keen....
MRS. BRAMSON: I'll make him keen. Who is the gentleman?
DORA: A boy I know; Dan his name is--'leas' 'e's not a gentleman. He's
a page-boy at the Tallboys.
MRS. BRAMSON: The Tallboys? D'you mean that new-fangled place
all awnings and loud speakers and things?
DORA: That's right. On the by-pass.
MRS. BRAMSON: Just the nice ripe sort of place for mischief, it
always looked to me. All those lanterns.... What's his character, the
good- for-nothing scoundrel?
DORA: Oh, he's nice, really. He done the wrong thing by me, but he's
all right, if you know what I mean....
MRS. BRAMSON: No, I don't. Where does he come from?
DORA: He's sort of Welsh, I think. 'E's been to sea, too. He's funny, of
course. Ever so open. Baby-face they call him. Though I never seem to
get 'old of what 'e's thinking, somehow--
MRS. BRAMSON: I'll get hold of what he's thinking, all right. I've had
my knife into that sort ever since I was a girl.
DORA: Oh, mum, if I got him to let you speak to him--d'you think I
could stay on?
MRS. BRAMSON (_after a pause): If_ he marries you at once.
DORA: Shall I--(_Eagerly_) As a matter of fact, ma'am, he's gone on a
message on his bicycle to Payley Hill this morning, and he said he

might pop in to see me on the way back--
MRS. BRAMSON: That's right; nothing like visitors to brighten your
mornings, eh? I'll deal with him.
DORA: Yes.... (_Going, and turning at the kitchen door--in impulsive
relief_) Oh, ma'am--
MRS. BRAMSON: And I'll stop the Crown Derby out of your wages.
DORA (_crestfallen_): Oh!
MRS. BRAMSON: What were you going to say?
DORA: Well, ma'am, I was going to say I don't know how to thank you
for your generosity....
_She goes into the kitchen. The clock chimes_.
MRS. BRAMSON: Olivia!
OLIVIA: Yes, auntie?
MRS. BRAMSON: You've forgotten again. Medicine's overdue. Most
important.
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