The Portrait - the Play Acts V and the Village again

Act V. Honeymoon visit

Place: Sunnyside Cottage, Hunworth, Norfolk

 

Those involved:

 

Jan Day, Headmaster of Elizabeth College, Guernsey, aged 56

his wife, Betty, aged 53

their
son, Philip Day, doing post-doc research in chemistry in USA, aged 30

his new wife, Jean  dietitian, aged 23

Philip and Jean, (on their honeymoon) have just arrived at Sunnyside, the holiday home of Philip's parents. They've come in the front door directly into the lounge, where hanging over the fireplace is the portrait of Martha Banyer Trew. A table with wheelback chairs around it and four stuffed chairs are in the room, also a TV on a trolley in the corner.

 

Philip: Come on in, Jean. They never lock the door - so they might not be here, but we can go in anyway and make a cup of tea.

Jean: Gosh it's cold in here.

Philip: Well, they wouldn't have a fire in August. You should have brought more warm clothes. Hello - anyone here?

Betty: (Coming in from the back of the house. She has a cigarette dangling from her mouth, which she takes out momentarily to kiss Philip) You made good time. I wasn't expecting you for half an
hour yet.

Philip: Hardly any traffic. And we had an early start from Dorset. Where's Dad?

Betty: I don't know. Nor do I care. Out in the garden, I expect. He'll come in soon for tea. Bring your things in. You'll be in the long room over the garage.

(Philip goes out again, and returns a minute later with two cases.)

Jean: Can I help with anything?

Betty: No. Just sit down. You look perished. Didn't you bring any warm clothes with you?

Jean: Not many. I thought it would be the same sort of weather here as I am used to at home.

Betty: How ridiculous. Surely you must have known that England has cool wet summers.

Jean: Philip bought me a picture book of England, and the sun was always shining in every picture. I guess I got the wrong impression. I haven't stopped shivering since we arrived two weeks ago.

Betty: You'll just have to go and buy some sensible clothes. There's a good shop in Blakeney where you can get a Guernsey. That'll keep you warm.

Jan: (Coming in the back door.) I thought I heard voices. Welcome, my dear. (He goes to Jean and gives her a warm kiss on each cheek. He then goes and shakes hands with Philip.)

Jean: Thank you Pa.

Jan: And how are you enjoying this beautiful country of ours? Let's see - you have been to Scotland, Oxford, Dorset, and probably via Cambridge on your route here, is that right?

Jean: I guess so. I get pretty confused.

Philip: Jean is not quite ready to admit anything good about England, yet. When we went by the Cambridge colleges she said she couldn't understand why anybody could get so excited about a bunch of dirty old buildings.

Betty: (sneering) Typical bloody American attitude.

Philip: And when we went to Stonehenge, she wasn't in the least impressed. I think she was hoping there would be a souvenir stall and a McDonalds or at least an ice cream stand there - not just a pile of old rocks.

Jan: Don't you worry, my dear. He's only teasing you. I have lots of suggestions for places around here you can go to - and we must get down to the sea. You'll love the sea around here.

Betty: She doesn't have any suitable clothes. I expect you only brought shorts and sun tops.

Jean: Well, I did bring a few summer dresses and a suit that we wore for the reception. Thank you again, for that, by the way. It was very kind of you.

Betty: You looked totally overwhelmed. You hardly said a word.

Jan: She probably didn't get a chance to - and besides perhaps she couldn't even understand our accents.

Betty: We certainly couldn't understand hers. Well, I'll go and make the tea, so you better sit down. Philip, you can come and help me load the trolley.

Jan and Jean sit down in the easy chairs in front of the fireplace.

Jean: Who is the woman in that portrait?

Jan: That, my dear, is my great great great grandmother. Her name was Martha Banyer Trew and she actually came from here in Norfolk.

Jean: From this area?

Jan: No, more towards Norwich. But still in Norfolk. I have always said that I want to retire to Norfolk. We lived here before, you know - and Philip and his brothers went to school at Gresham's in Holt. I was housemaster there before we went to Guernsey. I hope there will always be a Day living in Norfolk

Jean: So will you move to this house when you retire?

Jan: That is the plan, and I rather expect it won't be very long now. Betty can't wait to come back here. She never has taken much to Guernsey.

Jean: Did you live here as a child?

Jan: No, I was actually born in Malaya - where my father was a mining engineer. And then they moved to Capetown for awhile but it was the start of the First World War that brought them back. My mother and brothers and I lived in Worcester, with my grandmother, during the war. Then when my father came back, he wasn't well, and had to find a job that didn't involve any stress. So they took over a chicken farm in Ryhall, Rutland.

Jean: I don't have any idea where that is.

Jan: Maybe Philip could take you there when you are en route to the airport. It's a lovely little area - the sort of place that George Elliott used as the basis for her books.

Jean: I don't know who that is.

Jan: Well, I expect when you come to live here, next year, you'll have time to read all her books, and many more that perhaps are overlooked in America.

Philip and Betty come back in, with Philip wheeling a red plastic topped trolley, with the white cups and saucers on the top, and the plates and tin of biscuits underneath.

Betty pours the tea, and Philip takes the cups around.)

Philip: Jean doesn't really like tea much.

Betty: Well, she had better learn to like it. What do you normally drink then, coffee?

Jean: Yes, but don't bother for me. I can drink tea if I have to. And I don't much like the coffee you have here anyway.

Betty: Well, you certainly do have a lot to learn.

 

Epilogue in the Village

 

 

Scene  As before, but the ground at the picnic area is now covered with snow.

Time: December 20.

Those assembled:

Jean

Jane

Brian

Peter

Bee - budding scriptwriter

David (comes in late) - writes mainly comedy sketches

Again, everyone is seated at the picnic table, which they first had to clear of snow. All are warmly dressed, but look decidedly cold and anxious to be away.

Jean: Gosh, thanks for coming again. I know it must have taken an effort in this weather. (looking at Bee) I don't think we've seen you around here before. But thanks for taking an interest in reviewing my play. What sorts of things do you write?

Bee: I mostly write drama mixed in with a sprinkling of horror, fantasy and sci-fi. And I wanted to say, about your work, it might work better as a short story as the extended dialogue and description
doesn't really suit the TV script format. I liked some of the dialogue. Try downloading a sample script from the BBC writers' room for a good example on correct script format. 

Jane: It's a shame so few of us have shown up, but I guess you can excuse people for giving it a miss, considering the snow and all.

Brian: This is not my idea of the most comfortable way of spending an afternoon, if you get my drift.

Jean: Well, let's keep it brief then. What did you think of the play?

Brian: I only managed to read the first act. I prefer the poem - which I suppose is to be expected.

Jean: Oh, you mean, that after encouraging me to write it out in prose, I have, in fact, wasted my time.

Brian: Nevertheless it's a worthy extrapolation.

Jean: That sounds a bit like damning with faint praise.

Peter: The first act was pretty stiff and confusing with all the details but it got better in the later acts. The dialogue was natural, and we had tension between the characters.

Jane: I haven't had much time, so I sort of scanned the bits that I did read. I loved the dialogue, the various characters really shone out as they spoke. I was so impressed with the way you made them so real in just a short piece. You do this sort of thing so well.

Jean: Thanks, Jane. I do value your opinion.

Peter: I'm afraid Act IV was again a bit too much - and I know you were excited to put it in, having just found out about this family link with the aristocracy, but it seemed a bit forced in some parts.

There is a pause as David rushes on the scene.

David: Sorry to be late, folks. I did manage to catch the play. But I did almost feel the need to start drawing up a family tree! The similarity of names sometimes requires stopping and checking back, just to confirm we’re all talking about the same person – particularly when it is revealed that the last baby has been named Martha Banyer, after her Grandmother – which Louisa describes as “fitting”, rather than perhaps “intriguingly confusing”! I like the way the portrait links the various family
members, as well as the attitudes and priorities relating to the workhouse (notably where they are juxtaposed with the portrait). The evolution of the workhouse (to which you make reference) is an
interesting subject in itself, and the period in which this piece is set does not come long after some fairly vociferous debates concerning its merits. Notably the issue of diet, where it was found,
on occasions, that the bones which the inmates were required to crush for fertiliser, were actually being used by them as food, by sucking out the marrow. Anyway, Jean, you covered some fascinating subjects, and good interaction between the characters.  

Bee: I agree there was some nice dialogue and a bit of drama. I did feel at times as if I was reading a play and that's how I imagined it in my head.  But I have to agree that there are quite a few
characters to keep track of.

Peter: There is much for us to learn from the past, and this chapter highlights the difficulties children and families had in the 18 and early 19 hundreds. 

David: I agree with Peter. Extraordinary the amount of detail you manage to include in a relatively short piece. And then you suddenly bring us into another world of Eton and Oxford. Also interesting to hear their attitudes towards certain distant corners of the Empire, notably in the previous Act. Fascinating stuff, Jean.

Jean: And what about Act V - the one that was written about me?

Peter: I had to laugh at the bits where you were talking about how you couldn't understand your new relatives. When I visited USA, one fellow said of me, "I do not understand what he is saying." 

His friend said, "He is English, but his language is not." 

I thought this chapter was handled well. 

David: You seem to have displayed remarkable restraint here, Jean, in light of the comments of the condescending old cow. Did you later appear in an evening dress depicting the stars and stripes? This was the best Act so far, dialogue-wise, probably because you remembered it all quite well. I trust you have now learned the crucial importance of English etiquette, like making tea by warming the pot first.

Peter: What does happen to the portrait?

Jean: Well, I thought of donating it to the museum in Axbridge where her husband's portrait is displayed - but who would want something that first needed an expensive repair, which I'm not prepared to do? And it wasn't as if she was famous in her own right. So I guess the answer to your question is that she will stay on top of a wardrobe in my new house, and hopefully the next generation, when they clear it out after I die, will read my play, which I will leave near it, and
so perhaps learn a bit about her happier days.

David: Good luck with it. For me, I am off to New York but I wish you all well.

Jean: Thank you everyone for your help.