NATALYA
FOREWORD

	In the 1930s there was a tendency among the English intelligentsia towards Marxism.  The First World War had left terrible scars, and despotic aspects of British imperialism sickened a generation exposed to four years of military idiocy.  Marxism was idealistic, and so it was fashionable to be pro-Russian, despite published information as to the fearsome and repressive nature of the Soviet regime.  World War II and Hitler's eastern invasion made bedfellows of Russia and the West, to be followed immediately by a stand-off between the two emergent world powers, and the Cold War.

	But idealism is not easily snuffed out.  In the new prosperity of the 60s and 70s neo-Marxism flourished.  To be on the left was de rigueur.  Every political grouping claimed to be lefter than thou (good old English puritanism conjoining by chance with the meek and gentle forbearances of the hippy movement.)  Television directors sat on expensive black sofas proclaiming power to the people.  A famous actress stood outside the Soho Poly Theatre in the rain handing out leaflets, an old scarf tied round her head like a Holocaust victim - gesture politics from a woman who had never been without a hot bath in her life.

	It was, in a way, endearing, even heart-warming to see a new generation so well-fed and unoppressed that they could play mock politics - viz the 1968 Paris "uprising" when the Comedie Francaise got trashed.  In the 1980s Thatcher said "There is no such thing as society."  Consumerism was God - well, who doesn't want a warm, dry house and toys?  And then the Berlin wall came down and the invasion of the West by the rest of the world began.  How to stop it?  Perhaps political refugees could be given acceptance, but the poor as well?  Could these invasions be legitimate? - mea culpa had been a liberal theme since the turn of the century.

	It is not fashionable to write overtly political plays nowadays.  In the 70s it was mandatory.  Those of us who chose to hide the emetic under the jam and attempted restraint from imposition were likely to be dismissed as marginal, if not reactionary.  Dramatic metaphor today is polarised between the cute and the impenetrable.  You pick your shtick - not, you hope, as laughably non-existent as the Emperor's new clothes, neither inaccessibly Manichean, that condescending mode, nor irrelevantly exciting.  Writers have many weapons - suspense, terror, titillation and humour (the most lethal and the least respected.)

	For a play about today I used the memory of a woman I once knew.  She was a Russian Jewess who, having escaped from Nazi Germany, had married a man she loathed in order to get British citizenship.  She was stunningly and exotically  beautiful, cultured, multi-lingual, highly intelligent, and cut a swathe through the 50s literary world...she had a penchant for poets.  But, underneath, there was detachment.  She suffered depressions.  And there was always the underlying contempt: "What do you know?"

	As a species we are troubled by injustice - thank God.  In the prosperous, industrialised West there is still want and deprivation for so many people.  Why?  We have the information, the solutions - enough to feed and house the world.  Perhaps all we need is love, or at least instruction on how and why to respect the needs of strangers.  In Petersburg recently a tired and respectable-looking man offered me a currency deal on the street.  I said I was leaving for London the next day and offered him cigarettes for goodwill.  He went red with humiliation and walked away.

	The real-life model for Natalya is dead.  In "Natalya" the play, she is a survivor.  Criminal of course.

Pam Gems

NATALYA

A play in two acts

by Pam Gems

Copyright © Pam Gems
Pam Gems is hereby identified as author of this work in accordance with section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The author has asserted her moral rights. 

All rights whatsoever in this play are strictly reserved and application for performance etc. should be made before rehearsal to Rose Cobbe, United Agents, 12-26 Lexington Street, London W1F 0LE, UK. Tel: +44 (0) 20 3214 0800.
http://unitedagents.co.uk/agents/rose-cobbe/. Assistant: Dan Usztan. Email: dusztan@unitedagents.co.uk Tel: +44 (0) 20 3214 0873. No performance may be given unless a licence has been obtained.
NATALYA

A London loft-style interior - possibly a view of the river.  A big sofa with pale grey loose covers and cushions, a low table, other seating and a desk, on which sits the latest I-MAC.  Before the desk is an orthopaedic chair, the sort you kneel forward on.  In a corner a stuffed moose acts as a clothes hanger and hat and scarf rack.

A sunny day.

The doorbell rings.  Pause.  Another ring.

Pause.

CAROLLE enters.  She is big and ungainly, with depressing hair, wears a jacket, a longish skirt and flat shoes.  She has a punishingly heavy shoulder bag which pulls her down on one side.  She looks around the room.

			CAROLLE
		Hullo!

She waits but there is no reply, so she has a snoop.  She hears a sound, jumps away from the desk and moves swiftly to the sofa and sits, bag on lap.

EBBA enters.  She is comely - late twenties, maybe thirty, with a lot of hair, attractively styled.  She is wearing a bath towel.

CAROLLE makes to rise but EBBA, not seeing her, crosses to the computer and starts to work.

CAROLLE rises, sits and fidgets, fearing to interrupt.

EBBA finishes, prints out - picks up paper, sees CAROLLE.

			EBBA
		Oh, hi.  Won't be a moment.

She goes.  CAROLLE rises as the front door slams.

MICHELENE enters.  She is fashionably thin, with a short trendy haircut, wears high heels and an immaculate pale green suit.  She carries a similar suit, in pink, on a hanger.

			MICHELENE
		(Calls)  Ebba!  (She looks at her watch, sees CAROLLE.)

			CAROLLE
		She just - she was - she's -

			MICHELENE
		Right.  (Assesses CAROLLE dismissively.)  D'you mind?  I need this room, there'll be a celebrity here any moment to interview Miss Marriner.

			CAROLLE
		Yes.  Sorry -

			MICHELENE
		So if you could -

She puts out an arm, to usher CAROLLE out.

			CAROLLE
		It's me.

			MICHELENE
		What?!

			CAROLLE
		There was a mix-up over dates and we go to press so I'm doing it.  Carolle Carpenter.  (She puts out a hand which MICHELENE ignores.)

EBBA wanders in, now in loose trousers and a silk top with pushed-up sleeves.

			MICHELENE
		(To EBBA)  Do you know about this?

			EBBA
		I'm sorry?

			MICHELENE
		We're pulling out.  (To CAROLLE)  Sorry about this.

			CAROLLE
		But - the photographer's on his way!

			MICHELENE
		Tough.

			CAROLLE
		It's Roger Moth!

			MICHELENE
		Roger Moth?  (Placated, to EBBA)  Photographer of the year, showed at the Biennale - where is he?

CAROLLE fishes in her bag for her mobile, talks in the background.

			CAROLLE
		Roger?  Where are you?  Crumbs, no!  Not Place - Gardens.  Can you see the river?  Oh, you're in the pub.  Turn left outside, no, left or you'll fall in, first right - two minutes - no, now - Roger please - yes, waiting - look, Roger - (but he has gone.)

While she is telephoning MICHELENE displays the suit to EBBA.

			EBBA
		New?

			MICHELENE
		Your outfit.  For the shoot.

			EBBA
		Michelene!
			MICHELENE
		It's a photocall!  For your image.

			EBBA
		You want me to look like Joan Collins.

			MICHELENE
		Who may not be Sarah Bernhardt but is Always well-groomed.

She thrusts the suit at EBBA, fishes in her bag, takes out huge, slightly tinted glasses, shoves them on EBBA'S nose.

			EBBA
		I can't look like this.

			MICHELENE
		Why not?

			EBBA
		Because I'm not mental.  What have you done with my brother?

			MICHELENE
		Brian's at the lab.

			EBBA
		Does he know you don't want children?

The doorbell rings, loud and insistent.  EBBA goes, followed separately by MICHELENE with the suit.  Voices.

			MICHELENE
		(Off)  In there.

ROGER erupts into the room.

			ROGER
		(Sees CAROLLE)  Ah, Laughing Girl.  What have we got?

			CAROLLE
		Lady novelist.

			ROGER
		Oh - dog.

			CAROLLE
		(Hisses)  Roger!

MICHELENE strides in with drinks tray.

			MICHELENE
		Roger Moth?  I adore your work...I'm Michelene Whelan - (to CAROLLE) soon to be Marriner actually, I'm marrying Ebba's brother Brian Marriner, the well-known scientist.  Now, how shall we do this?

			ROGER
		Vodka tonic please.

			MICHELENE
		(Pouring)  We're terribly protective with our novelists - (to CAROLLE) half an hour?

			CAROLLE
		I was hoping for in-depth - (as MICHELENE waves the vodka bottle at her) - sorry, could I have tea?

EBBA enters, having tidied her hair and pulled down her sleeves as a concession to the interview.

			EBBA
		Of course.  (To MICHELENE)  I'd love a cup.

MICHELENE glares at her, turns to CAROLLE.

			MICHELENE
		Indian?  China?

			CAROLLE
		Er...could I have Celestial?

			MICHELENE
		Possibly.  (At the door) There's Gunpowder.

She goes.  ROGER leaps about, setting up, gives EBBA the once-over and an approving nod.

			EBBA
		Michelene's a great publicist.  (CAROLLE looks at her.)  She's a little wired up - she's getting married.

			CAROLLE
		To your brother.

			EBBA
		Yes.

			CAROLLE
		She said.  How did they meet?

			EBBA
		(Glumly)  Through me.

She turns her head this way and that as ROGER takes polaroids and peers at them.

			CAROLLE
		Big wedding?

			EBBA
		Eight bridesmaids.

			ROGER
		Whoo-whoo!
			CAROLLE
		I didn't think people still did that - I mean real people.

			EBBA
		I know what you mean.

			CAROLLE
		Not that I've anything against marriage - families -

			EBBA
		Oh she doesn't want children.

CAROLLE is shocked.

			CAROLLE
		Why not?

Flustered, she delves into her bag, takes out two tape recorders.

			CAROLLE
		Could you - ?

			EBBA
		(Into the recorder)  Once more into the breach dear friends, once more.

CAROLLE plays it back.  Nothing comes out.

			CAROLLE
		I've got some batteries somewhere.

			EBBA
		Use the other one.

			CAROLLE
		That's the stand-by.

MICHELENE enters with tea and a big chocolate cake.  Sets it down, cuts slices.

			MICHELENE
		Let's be wicked.  (ROGER takes a large piece.)

			ROGER
		(Mouth full)  Mmmmm!

			EBBA
		(Mildly)  I was keeping the cake for Ba.

MICHELENE ignores this, bending over CAROLLE.

			MICHELENE
		You look hypoglycaemic, who's your homeopath?

			CAROLLE
		Fotini.  Well she was.  (She eats cake, looks up.)  Until she started getting terse with me, I don't know why.

			ROGER
		(To EBBA)  Just act naturally (crouching) - ignore me.  (He shoots up her crutch.)

			MICHELENE
		Who are you with now?

			CAROLLE
		Hans.

			MICHELENE
		Hans the Hunk - from Hungary?

			CAROLLE
		He says I've got sad shoulders.  I'm on hypericum.  For stress.

			MICHELENE
		Tell me about it.

She crashes her cup back in its saucer, rises.

			MICHELENE
		Right, I'll leave you to it.

She pushes the vodka bottle towards ROGER, goes, balancing the tray.  CAROLLE fiddles with the batteries.

			CAROLLE
		(Into the tape)  I've swopped over.

She plays back the tape.

			TAPE
		I've swopped over.

			EBBA
		Good - we'll start shall we?

			CAROLLE
		Yes.  Notebook...notebook, in case the tape... my specs...

EBBA takes them from the top of CAROLLE'S head, gives them to her.  ROGER crashes about, CAROLLE arranges herself, starts the interview.

			CAROLLE
		When did you start to write?

			EBBA
		At school.

			CAROLLE
		(Refers to her file.)  St Godolphins, right?

			EBBA
		Yes.
			CAROLLE
		(Brightening)  You're Catholic?

			EBBA
		No - why, are you?

			CAROLLE
		I'm a convert.

			EBBA
		(Interested)  Really?  Why did you - ?

			CAROLLE
		I'm not sure, I was lonely, I think.  I have found the virgin birth rather hard to swallow - they say it has happened.

			EBBA
		It would certainly make life simpler.

She squeaks as ROGER suddenly looms up beside her.  CAROLLE stands back and watches as he takes over, snapping, leaping about theatrically.  She sighs.  EBBA looks at her in enquiry.  She shrugs.

			CAROLLE
		I was just thinking that I'll never be famous enough for Roger to do me.

ROGER pulls a face at EBBA behind CAROLLE'S back.

			EBBA
		Why not?

ROGER crashes about.

			CAROLLE
		I do write.

			EBBA
		Yes?  What sort of thing do you - ?

			CAROLLE
		Short stories.  Well - a couple.

			EBBA
		Great.

			CAROLLE
		I expect you find it useful living with Jack Hansen.

			EBBA
		I'm not with him.

			CAROLLE
		Oh?

She grabs her notebook, leans forward, eyes gleaming at a possible scoop.
			EBBA
		I mean, I'm not published by his company.

			CAROLLE
		Oh.  Still -

			EBBA
		We try not to talk shop.

			CAROLLE
		What do you talk about?

			EBBA
		The size of his cock, usually.  (ROGER whoops, falls over.)  Sorry.  That was a joke. 

			CAROLLE
		How long have you been together?

			EBBA
		Three years.

			CAROLLE
		Not married.

			EBBA
		No.

			CAROLLE
		He's not prepared to commit.

			EBBA
		I'm sorry?

JACK enters.

			JACK 
		Hullo.

			EBBA
		Ask him.

			JACK
		Hullo, Babes.  (Bends, kisses EBBA.)  Got a surprise for you!

			EBBA
		What?

			JACK
		Da-da!

NATALYA enters.  She is very beautiful.

			JACK	
		Meet Natalya.

ROGER, knocked out, begins to take pictures.

			NATALYA
		Hullo.

			EBBA
		(Rises)  Hullo -

			CAROLLE
		(Dazzled)  Sorry - who?

			NATALYA
		Natalya Ivanovna.  (Takes JACK's arm.)  I am Mrs Jack Hansen.

BLACKOUT

Later.  JACK, EBBA and NATALYA.  They are sitting, NATALYA sprawled comfortably.  She rises.

			NATALYA
		I must make water.  (She goes out.)

Silence.

			EBBA
		Jesus.

			JACK
		What can I say?  She was in trouble.

			EBBA
		So you married her.

			JACK
		To get her out.  That was the deal.

			EBBA
		Deal?  A deal is two-way.  What do you get out of it?

			JACK
		Feelings of nobility?

			EBBA
		Oh, so you've kept your hands off her?

			JACK
		Well - no.

Silence.

			EBBA
		Auden didn't find it necessary to sleep with Erika Mann when he married her to get her out of Germany.

			JACK
		Yes, but we had to go out to the back of bloody beyond, to make it look good.  There was this blessing in church after the civil ceremony in Moscow.....God, you should have seen it, Eb... dark blue cupola against pale blue sky - pine trees - young priest with a black beard, incense.  Then at her friends' house they put us in this bedroom.

			EBBA
		And you jumped her.

			JACK
		Other way round.  She said it was only fair.

			EBBA
		(Sarcastic)  Oh well...

Silence.

			JACK
		Her background's amazing.  White Russian.  One of her grandfathers is descended from Catherine the Great.

			EBBA
		Not the Small?

NATALYA enters, takes JACK aside, talks to him quietly.

			EBBA
		What is it, what's the - ?

			JACK
		She wants our room.

			EBBA
		What?

NATALYA murmurs to him in urgent Russian.

			JACK
		It's the birch tree, outside the window.  She says it reminds her of -

			EBBA
		Oh, for God's sake take it.

			NATALYA
		Thank you.  Now I am home.  Here.  (Touches her chest.)  You have hair-dryer?

			EBBA
		In the bathroom.

			NATALYA
		(Lifts her hair.)  My hair is full of Russia.  (Goes.)

			EBBA
		Got my man.  Got my room.  If she gets pregnant I'll kill you both.

			JACK
		Oh there's no chance of that!
			EBBA
		Sure are you?

			JACK
		Yes.

			EBBA
		Are you?  (Flicks him across the face with a scarf, making him wince.  She does it again.)

			JACK
		Cut it out!

			EBBA
		Cut it out?  I'll cut it off!  (Makes to go for him again, he grabs her wrist, a tussle, he pins her down.)

			JACK
		We'll see.

			CAROLLE
		(At the door)  Sorry.  My car's been towed.

JACK climbs off EBBA, leaves with CAROLLE.  EBBA prowls, furious.  She switches on the radio.  It is Shostakovich, very loud.  JACK comes back.  She throws a vase at him.  He ducks, rugby tackles her to the floor.  They wrestle violently, grunting and gasping. 

While this is happening MICHELENE, down right, sits at a mirror trying on hats.  She tries on a huge mushroom, discards it for a pink pixie with a two-foot feather.  She tries a picture hat, a toque, goes back to the mushroom.  The decision makes her tense.  She dives into her handbag, takes a tablet, drinks from a small bottle of Evian.

Down left, as EBBA and JACK reconcile on the sofa, CAROLLE struggles with her new computer.  She consults the manual.  Defeated, she eats a KitKat.

SCENE TWO

THE LIVING ROOM.  CAROLLE, apart, works at her computer.  JACK and EBBA cuddled together on the sofa.  She leans down, looking at her book on the floor.

			JACK
		Where's Natalya?

			EBBA
		Dunno.  Gone to Tonga, I hope.  Listen. 
		(Reads) `The caterpillar of the silver-wash fritillary needs beds of violet to feed on.  Not so the butterfly itself.  For that, bramble and thistle flowers must be provided.'

			JACK
		So?

			EBBA
		First course violets, then bramble and thistle.  Makes you think.  What's the good of bliss if it doesn't last? 

			JACK
		(Kisses her)  Another year and you'll have heard all my stories -

			EBBA
		I'll get fat.  My books will go out of fashion.

			JACK
		No they won't.

			EBBA
		I'll get fat.

			JACK
		I heard you.

			EBBA
		Still.  (Leans up on her elbow.)  There must be some compensations.  Mustn't there?  For time's winged - ?

JACK doesn't answer.

			EBBA
		I suppose...I suppose having children renews you.  (Slight change of atmosphere.)  Replication.  The rebirth of a self.  Other, but connected.  (No response.)  I do feel...curious.  (No response.)  But not you.

			JACK
		Don't need no-one else.  Other women can pup.

MICHELENE, apart, tries on her white wedding dress.

			EBBA
		All except my Beta-minus publicist and sister-in-law to be.  I am never, it seems, to be an aunt.  (A thought stops her.)  Could be she hasn't got a uterus...something...putting a brave face on it.  No.  It's just not on her agenda.  I ask myself - why my brother?  Why Brian?

			JACK
		Because he's there?
			EBBA
		She did hit the ground running when there was a rumour about the Nobel for his team.

			JACK
		Why's he doing it?

			EBBA
		He feels sorry for her.

			JACK
		(Sit up)  Sorry for her?  For Michelene Whelan?

			EBBA
		I think so, yes.

			JACK
		Why?!

			EBBA
		Because she's unlikable.

MICHELENE, satisfied with the dress slips it off, leaves, with the dress over her arm -in her slip and high heels.

NATALYA enters, looking sensational, carrying parcels.

			NATALYA
		Potatoes!

			JACK
		Hi, Natale.

			EBBA
		Potatoes?

			NATALYA
		For Russian soup.  Good for consolation.

			EBBA
		I don't need consolation.  Why do I need consolation?

			NATALYA
		Is for me.

			EBBA
		You failed your test.  Jack - vodka.  (JACK goes.)

			NATALYA
		The man is stupid.  Not even impact...you know why he fails me?  His teeth fall out.

			EBBA
		Natalya.  Don't drive.  Don't even dream of becoming a motorist, cleanse it from the blackboard of your imagination.  True, my life would resume its normal course if you left us in a box, but think of the crem arrangements, the interminable immigration hassle when we want to ship out your ashes.

			NATALYA
		I must drive.

			EBBA
		Why?

			NATALYA
		Because I cannot afford taxis every day!

			EBBA
		Use public transport!

			NATALYA
		Not possible.

			EBBA
		Why not, the rest of us manage.

			NATALYA
		I am molested.

EBBA looks at her, concedes the likeliness of this.

			NATALYA
		In any case, he gives me car.

			EBBA
		Your film producer?

			NATALYA
		Nah, nah.  Porsche is from Gray-ham.  You don't know him.

			EBBA
		A Porsche?!  (Whistles.)  Who's Graham?!

			NATALYA
		Swit man - very little but so generous -ach, I leave him in Liberty House!  I am asking to him to hold tape measure, then I think - oh, my present for Ebba...I am close to Kaspia...nice shop...

			EBBA
		Hadn't you better go and get him?

			NATALYA
		De nada.

			EBBA
		He might want his Porsche back.

			NATALYA
		Too late, I already sold it.  For you!

			EBBA
		(Unwraps a huge tin of caviare.)  Natalya - caviare? - this must have cost a fortune!

			NATALYA
		(Calls.)  Jack...vodka!  (To EBBA)  You don't mind I sleep with Jack?

			EBBA
		Well -

			NATALYA
		I like so much the English gentleman -

			EBBA
		Hah!

			NATALYA
		- without class system, what is left?  Money?  Not romantic.  Duchess - Your Majesty... welcome to castle, Serene Highness.

			EBBA
		It's crap and you know it.

			NATALYA
		So the shy boy is King! - what you want from life...meaning?  Ah - Jack -

			JACK
		(Enters.)  Vodka.

			NATALYA
		(With a flourish)  Blinis...creme fraiche...plates!

			EBBA
		Oh, these are beautiful!  Where did you - ?

			NATALYA
		Thomas Goode.  Nice shop.

			EBBA
		(Admiring plates)  From Graham?  The film producer?

			NATALYA
		I borrow.  (EBBA winces.)  The film producer... verflucht.  (They sit on the floor and eat from the tin.)  He wants me for film.  Original script.  Woman who hates herself.  `Is cosmic!'  I say, in Russia we know all this, and much more...it is banal, your script.

			EBBA
		And?

			NATALYA
		(Mouth full.)  They like you to agree with them, film producers.
			JACK
		This is great.

			NATALYA
		Beluga.  The best.  Don't need lemon juice... egg, onion...only when caviare is bad.

			JACK
		Slanche!  (They drink)  Yow!

			EBBA
		My God, Natalya, do you always knock it back like that?  Your liver!

			NATALYA
		Nah, nah, nah.  All bad liver in Russia extinct centuries ago.  Only warriors survive!

They knock back the caviare, and drink some more.

			NATALYA
		(Lying back)  Oh I feel so good.  Maybe I volunteer for good works.  You think I am the type, Jack?

			JACK
		No.

			NATALYA
		(Sighs)  You see?  (To EBBA)  I tried before, but I was refused.

			EBBA
		Why?

			NATALYA
		Wrong shoes.

			EBBA
		A guy gave her a car and she sold it.

			JACK
		How much?

			NATALYA
		Ten thousand.

			JACK
		What are you going to do with the dough?

			EBBA
		(Hopeful) Down payment on an apartment?  In Honolulu?

			NATALYA
		It is sent already to Russia.  To my brother.
			JACK
		He's in trouble?

			NATALYA
		Nah, nah.  (She staggers to her feet.)  I must go to clinic.

			EBBA
		(Alarmed)  Why, what's wrong?

			NATALYA
		To sell blood.  I am rare type...one hundred pounds each time.

			EBBA
		(She is getting drunk)  Fuck, I'm only bloody boring A...he's even more boring...O.

			NATALYA
		He can sell his come.  Intelligent, tall handsome Caucasian...good sperm fetch good price.

			EBBA
		Imagine...lots of little Jacks...

			NATALYA
		Very nice.

			EBBA
		He doesn't think so.  You watch - he'll get up and leave the room.

			JACK
		It's that or fuck you both.

			NATALYA
		Later, when I am bloodless.  He can be Dracula.  (She picks up Ebba's coat, puts it on her shoulders and goes.)

			EBBA
		That's my only good coat.

Pause.

			JACK
		There's something...Bovary about her...don't you think?  Come on, you find her intriguing.

			EBBA
		A bloody great pain in the ass, you mean.  I'm not enjoying the complicity between you so don't be misled because I pretend I do.

			JACK
		A ship that passes in the night!

			EBBA
		Oh that's a good phrase, wish I'd thought of that.

			JACK
		You will, Oscar.  (Lies back.)  I'm sitting on Brighton Pier...thinking about you, of course... breathing in the good sea air...look out to sea - a boat...long way off.

			EBBA
		What sort of a boat?

			JACK
		Don't know, too far away.  Sleek...comely.  I watch it for a bit then a seagull yeeks and I throw it my cheese sandwich, and when I look up the boat is gone.  That's it.  C'est tout.  A faint memory trace.

They embrace.  She puts a leg over him.

			EBBA
		Is this me or her?

			JACK
		You.  She's all warty and freckly.

			EBBA
		There isn't a wart on her.

			JACK
		She's a hooligan.

			EBBA
		You like hooligans.

She jumps him.  CAROLLE's computer blows up.

SCENE THREE

NATALYA, feet up on the sofa, is reading.  EBBA enters, laden with shopping.  Begins to disgorge.  Toilet rolls fall out.  EBBA picks one up.

			NATALYA
		Disgusting.

			EBBA
		(Holding it up)  Why?

			NATALYA
		This colour, that colour - ach!

			EBBA
		Whole forests felled for bourgeois butts -

			NATALYA
		So boring. all these choices.  When can you think?

			EBBA
		Think?  (Flops down, lies back.)  Who thinks?  Do you think?  I don't.  Thoughts...arrive, but that's different.

			NATALYA
		Because you are lazy and corrupt.  You don't think of the depth...of what is for...only the frivolous.

			EBBA
		So what do you think about?  Back in old Petersburg.

			NATALYA
		Survival.  Bargain for parachute silk from air force colonel to make knickers, exchange for mascara.  Queue for oranges - time for thought then, believe me.

			EBBA
		Oranges?

			NATALYA
		And when it is your turn they are green, and with withers.

			EBBA
		Withered.  Shrivelled.  Withers means something else.

			NATALYA
		What else?

			EBBA
		Part of a horse...here...

She touches NATALYA on the neck.  NATALYA kisses her on the mouth.

			EBBA
		What did you do that for?

			NATALYA
		I thought you wanted.  Are you not in love with me?

			EBBA
		(Squeaky voice)  Of course not.  Why - did you think I was gay?  Homosexual?

			NATALYA
		Homosexual, heterosexual, what is the difference?

			EBBA
		You mean you'll sleep with anybody?

			NATALYA
		(Makes a hole with finger and thumb, puts in her index finger.)  Not important.

			EBBA
		Who's corrupt now?  All this pure talk about thinking.

			NATALYA
		I think so much better on back.  (She smiles up at EBBA who laughs.)

			EBBA
		You're having me on.

			NATALYA
		Have you where?  I don't understand.

			EBBA
		It's a phrase - it means, you're teasing me.

			NATALYA
		You never sell the body?

			EBBA
		Of course not.

			NATALYA
		Not from obligation?  To pay debt - for nice meal?

			EBBA
		No!

			NATALYA
		Not even as apology...?

			EBBA
		No!!

			NATALYA
		Oh well.  (She looks EBBA up and down)... maybe not.

The doorbell rings.  EBBA looks at NATALYA who shrugs.  EBBA exits to door.  NATALYA picks up a book, puts her feet up on the sofa, out of sight of the others.  EBBA enters, followed by MICHELENE.

			MICHELENE
		Look, I'm sorry.  I'll have her some other time.

			EBBA
		I've told you, it's all right.

			MICHELENE
		Anyway, Ba much prefers being with you.  It's this huge charity show and we're woefully under-handed.

			EBBA
		(Mildly)  Short-handed.

			MICHELENE
		What?

			EBBA
		Perhaps I could bring her.  To the show.  She'd love it.

			MICHELENE
		Ba?  No she wouldn't.

			EBBA
		She loves clothes.

			MICHELENE
		Sorry, I've got enough problems -

			EBBA
		What's the charity?

			MICHELENE
		Oh, some disease.  Look, my job is to -

			EBBA
		I know, thoughtless of me.

			MICHELENE
		You'd better go and see what she's doing.  Your room seems to be full of clothes, God knows what she's getting up to -

			EBBA
		Oh Lord, I forgot - Natalya's in there...I'll have to put Ba in the other - (EBBA rushes out, bowling over CAROLLE, hovering in the doorway.)

			CAROLLE
		(From the door)  Sorry.  Your door was open.

			MICHELENE
		Carolle!  How's the article coming, I had a word with Ginette.

			CAROLLE
		Giselle.

			MICHELENE
		What?  Oh.  Anyway, we thought perhaps a little more -

			CAROLLE
		She said.  More depth.  My acupuncturist is just round the corner, so...kill two birds...

			MICHELENE
		Good thinking...Ebba loves your style...Christ Almighty!

BA, Ebba's handicapped sister enters, wearing the mushroom hat.

			MICHELENE
		Take it off, what are you doing?  (She snatches the hat from BA, making her stagger.)  I left it in the hatbox in the hall, you'd think it was safe enough there!  (EBBA enters.)  She's been at my hat!

			EBBA
		Oh it's gorgeous.  Sorry.  Ba...(BA smiles.)  I've put you in the back room.  Jack and I'll go in the attic, I don't want you going up that ladder.

			BA
		I oh iy.  (I don't mind.)

			EBBA
		No darling.

			BA
		I oh or roo.  (I want your room.)

			MICHELENE
		I honestly don't think it's wise, the way you...well, she's your sister.  Don't!  (As BA picks up her large swatches.)  They have to go back to Nina's in a reasonable state.

			BA
		(Frightened)  I'm a people person.

CAROLLE seems disturbed by all this.  She hovers uncertainly, sits by BA on the sofa, dithers, offers her a cigarette.

			MICHELENE
		Oh Pl-ease!

			CAROLLE
		They are low tar.
EBBA crosses firmly with a cigarette lighter.  BA lights up with difficulty, puffs proudly.

			CAROLLE
		Sorry, I...I mean I never smoke myself, these are my analyst's.

BA has noticed NATALYA, curled up, apart.  She inspects her, is fascinated by her red shoes.  NATALYA takes them off.  BA puts them on.

			EBBA
		Oh sorry...didn't know you were here.  Natalya ...Michelene Whelan.  Michelene's with my publisher.

			NATALYA
		This one marries your brother?  (She inspects MICHELENE coolly.)

			EBBA
		Natalya's visiting, from Moscow.

			MICHELENE
		Really?  Social or business?

			NATALYA
		I cannot answer.  (MICHELENE is baffled.)

			MICHELENE
		(To EBBA)  I'm going berserk.  Nothing distressed as I asked, curtain poles with fat ends instead of thin ones - I had a nightmare last night that Emile was putting up wallpaper - figured, embossed wallpaper!  I'm supposed to be lunching with the Duchess - our patron - If she shows, and If this is still wearable - (glaring at her hat).

			NATALYA
		Hah.

			MICHELENE
		I'm sorry, I didn't get your name -

			NATALYA
		I am the Princess Natalya Ivanovna Dubetskoy.

			MICHELENE
		Oh.  How do you do?

			NATALYA
		Don't curtsey, we are here informally.  To see your Queen.  (EBBA chokes on her Evian water.)  Please be seated.  Tell me of this residence you repaint, it is where...Scotland
		...Norfolk?  Not Ireland, I hope - is for hyippies.

			MICHELENE
		Surrey.

			EBBA
		Home counties.

			MICHELENE
		My fiancé needs to be near the Imperial College, in London.  He is an eminent scientist.

But NATALYA is flipping through MICHELENE's fabric samples.

			NATALYA
		No...no...no...who is your decorator, you must fire heem.  In Venice I use only silk velvet, colour of little rabbit's bum, and grey silk voile, same colour as canals...then splash of red - I have this cabinet from the house of Peggy Guggenheim, left to my aunt, against that the Picasso and the rest white...we repaint nine times for this white, then colour is good for all times of day and evening...so important, for the flattering of women.  (She leans forward, peers into MICHELENE's face.)  Ah, you 'ave neglect your skeen!  (MICHELENE sits abruptly.)  I must go, I need to talk with Richard Branson, he asks to borrow little aeroplane but he can't have, I need...(to MICHELENE)...also remember for making old...water stains, scratch marks on doors - labradors...oil from guns, and with water closets, only Victorian...mahogany,
		brass...to be polished, and funny drawings on walls and pictures of parents looking silly in hats and skirts tucked into knickers for bathing.  But also screen by Hockney, maybe bunches of ballet shoes, I get these for you from Kirov - but not signed...you take and smell and say, oh, this is Irek, this is Altynai...ahh!  Your pearls!

			MICHELENE
		(Clutching her throat) What?

			NATALYA
		They are not rill!

			MICHELENE
		(Faint) Cultured.

			NATALYA
		Tarrible.

MICHELENE backs out of the room, making a daft sort of obeisance.

			EBBA
		Natale!

NATALYA shrugs.  Then turns her attention to CAROLLE.  Who looks like a rabbit caught in headlights.

			NATALYA
		And what are you?

			CAROLLE
		A journalist.

			NATALYA
		With humility.  That is good.

			EBBA
		Carolle writes short stories.

			NATALYA
		Help her!

EBBA looks at NATALYA, surprised.  She turns to CAROLLE.

			CAROLLE
		I dropped by for some extra info...my editor's, you know...rather...

			EBBA
		A bully.  Come on.  (Leads her out.)

			CAROLLE
		Could I use your shower?  Mine's on the blink.

BA gets to her feet in the red shoes.  She walks about, gingerly at first.  NATALYA claps as she begins to get the hang of it.

			NATALYA
		So - Ba-bar-a...what do you want?

BA looks down at her severely.

			BA
		I want to be a bride.  (She says this very clearly.)

			NATALYA
		To be married?

			BA
		Nuh.  Be a bride.

She circles in the shoes, and then, as NATALYA looks away, hobbles off quickly with her booty.  NATALYA laughs.  She stretches out on the sofa, displaying her legs.  She is not wearing knickers.

			BRIAN
		Hullo.

NATALYA sits up, looks at him.

			NATALYA
		You must be brother.  Brain...but spelt different.

			BRIAN
		I'm Brian.  (He follows her off.)

BA tries to dance in the red shoes to lazy country music.  She totters, topples - kicks off the shoes and dances barefoot, tossing her hair to the beat.  She lifts her arms in enjoyment.

SCENE FOUR

EBBA and JACK, relaxing.

			JACK
		How was the book signing?

			EBBA
		Horrible as ever.  I kept catching this little man's eye at the back of the queue.  He never stopped staring.  By the time he got to the table I felt like taking my top off for him.

			JACK
		I'll kill the bastard.  (Nuzzles her.)  So - there was a queue?

			EBBA
		Oh yes.  All morning.

			JACK
		She's good, Michelene.

			EBBA
		Yes.

			JACK
		Great publicist.

			EBBA
		Yes.

			JACK
		Somebody has to do it.

			EBBA
		Do they?

			JACK
		(Sings)  `Money makes the world go round' -

			EBBA
		What about art for art's sake?

			JACK
		Wrong century.

NATALYA enters with BRIAN.

			NATALYA
		This man is rapist.  I am concussed.  Ebba, pliz, I need bath with oil and everything nice...come and talk...wicked man!  (She goes.  EBBA shrugs, follows.)

			JACK
		Didn't know you were seeing Natalya.  How's it going?

			BRIAN
		All right.

			JACK
		Pretty stunning, don't you think?  There's something unusual ...other...about her.

			BRIAN
		Oh, that's just because her mind's not on it.

			JACK
		Oh?  (Laughs.)

			BRIAN
		Prossies are all the same.

			JACK
		Prossies?

			BRIAN
		Prostitutes.  The good-looking ones are never any good.

			JACK
		What?

			BRIAN
		Still, very professional woman.  Doesn't waste time.

			JACK
		Christ.  Bugger me.  Can't believe you go in for that sort of thing.

			BRIAN
		(Simply)  I haven't got time to take women out to dinner.

			JACK
		Sure but I mean...you don't seem - how did you get into it?

			BRIAN
		A friend of mine...we used to go fishing.  I went round to see him one night, couldn't raise anybody, tried the back door, next minute his Mum had me flat on the eiderdown - ten quid.  There's always a back door with a little woman.  It's good, you know where you are.

			JACK
		Yes...yes, I can see - I mean, I've never thought of paying for it myself.  Still.  Well.  There you are.  How about now, though?

			BRIAN
		Now?

			JACK
		Now that you're getting married.  Will you give them up...the prossies?

			BRIAN
		(Thinks, then)  No.  No, I shouldn't think so.

			JACK
		Won't she mind?  Michelene?

			BRIAN
		Michelene?

			JACK
		Michelene.  The woman you're going to marry. 

			BRIAN
		(Vague)  Oh...yes...

			JACK
		You are going to...marry her.  She is under that impression.  The arrangements on her side appear to be pretty well advanced.

			BRIAN
		Really?

			JACK
		Look...Brian...if you're not convinced that nuptials with the Maid Michelene are a good idea, shouldn't you -

			BRIAN
		No, it's all right.

			JACK
		So long as you're sure about it.

			BRIAN
		If it's what she wants.  It seems to be what she's after.

			JACK
		How about you?

			BRIAN
		Mmm.  Did you know they built married quarters on campus in the Sixties in America?  (JACK, puzzled, shakes his head.)  To encourage breeding - you need 180-plus IQs for astro-physics.  Now we need brains for biology.

			JACK
		So you want to marry in order to have -

			BRIAN
		Jack, very soon I shall be able to keep you alive for 300 years.

			JACK
		Yeah?  Hmmn.

			BRIAN
		What?

			JACK
		If you'd been able to do that 100 years ago, Victoria could still be on the throne.

BRIAN waves this away.

			JACK
		Ebba says you need a new generation every 20 years to stop it all getting ossified and corrupt.

			BRIAN
		(Dismissive)  Oh, Ebba.

			JACK
		Bright lady, your sister.

			BRIAN
		She's arts!

			JACK
		So?

			BRIAN
		Not where it's at - not since Newton.  Science is truth.

			JACK
		If you say so.  And Michelene fits in to all this, huh?

			BRIAN
		She'll do.  It's either her or some other woman.  She's competent, and she won't get into my head which is a plus.  Granted she's a shitbag -

			JACK
		Natalya certainly thinks so.

			BRIAN
		What does she know about it?  It's not for layabouts and adolescents, marriage.

			JACK
		Too grown-up for me, I'm telling  you.

MICHELENE, down right, tries on her veil - over the face - off the face, decides on off as when it is over the face she bumps into things.  Ticks it off her list on her big pink pad.

BA crosses, sees MICHELENE'S pale jacket, slips it on with a quick look round, sees MICHELENE'S smart handbag, seizes with a grunty groan of pleasure and runs off with it.

CAROLLE, down left in her corner, sits alone, watching BRIEF ENCOUNTER, sips from a mug of cocoa and sobs into a man's handkerchief.

SCENE FIVE

EBBA and NATALYA.  They are in the bathroom.

			NATALYA
		You have aperient?  I had big lunch and forgot to...(mimes putting her fingers down her throat and being sick).

			EBBA
		Natalya!

			NATALYA
		Actually I didn't forget, but I was not with toothbrush...you must brush teeth after vomit or stomach acid melts enamel.

			EBBA
		Ugh!

			NATALYA
		(Points at EBBA.)  What size?

			EBBA
		Twelve.

			NATALYA
		Ten is better.  To be fat is not acceptable.

			EBBA
		Neither's shoplifting, thieving, lying and fraudulent conversion.

			NATALYA
		Ebba - you are liberal!

			EBBA
		There is such a thing as decency.

			NATALYA
		There is such a thing as survival.  Come to bed.

			EBBA
		Nothing but a bloody tealeaf you are, matey.  And you tried to seduce me.  Which you are rotten at.

			NATALYA
		You would know, uh?

			EBBA
		Yes!

			NATALYA
		I am exciting for you.

			EBBA
		Bollocks.  You climb into my bed and when I push you out you climb back in, drink my Evian water and snore your head off.

			NATALYA
		I snore?!

			EBBA
		No.  But you do talk in your sleep.

			NATALYA
		(Alarmed)  What? - What do I say...what?  (Shakes EBBA.)

			EBBA
		Natale!  It's in Russian!

			NATALYA
		Oh.  OK.  That's OK.  Sorry.

			EBBA
		There's a lot about you we don't know, isn't there?  (NATALYA shrugs, smiles charmingly.)  You turn up here, having married my lover - you pinch my man, my bed...worst of all, my books!  I don't know why I don't put on the one pair of shoes - the unacceptable turd yellow winkle-pickers, bought when I was stoned - that you haven't scuffed - and give you a smart, hard kick in the vagina.  The only reason I don't is...I can't make up my mind.  Are you straight, or are you crooked?  Totally true, or totally and absolutely utterly false.

		There is one thing I do know.  (NATALYA looks up sharply.)  You - my Tartar friend - are up shit creek.  And you are frightened - I think very frightened - about something.  Now don't seek to make moral profit out of my liberal concern just because I'm on to you.
		You don't have to tell me a damn thing.  It might, I daresay be a hell of a lot wiser for me not to know what you're up to, where you're coming from and why.  On the other hand, I am your friend and benefactor, and I am trustworthy.  I am an Englishwoman.

			NATALYA
		(Slight pause.)  My brother is in trouble.  He needs to leave Russia.  The money I sent is for him.

			EBBA
		The ten thousand?

			NATALYA
		Is not sufficient.

			EBBA
		How much do you need?

			NATALYA
		A lot.  I have seen your papers, you do not have enough.

			EBBA
		(Reacts to this snooping, rallies.)  So you need to get him out.  Well, that shouldn't be impossible.  Does he speak English?

			NATALYA
		Yes.

			EBBA
		I'll talk to Jack.  We'll sponsor him as a translator...a new English version of Tolstoy... Gogol...Pushkin.

			NATALYA
		You can do this?

			EBBA
		I should think so.

			NATALYA
		I owe you much debt.  I was thinking, maybe he could marry Ba-bar-a but -

			EBBA
		But no.  He couldn't.  Bad enough waiting for you to leave it long enough not to look phoney before you file for divorce from my lover.

			NATALYA
		Bring Shura here I am in your debt forever.

			EBBA
		What has he done?

			NATALYA
		He is foolish boy.

			EBBA
		Not the Mafia?

			NATALYA
		Oh them.  I work for them...pussycats.  These is sods from Chechnya.  Putin should get wise with those thugs, nuke all of them.  They are louts.  (She takes out a gun.)  If you must...use this...but no...they are for making with cruel, and torturing people.  I love my brother.

			EBBA
		Is that loaded?

			NATALYA
		(Waving gun about)  You are safe.  (Throws it in EBBA's lap)  Replica.  For frighten.  Ebba, bring him here...I will repay...I promise.

			EBBA
		You're actually saying something you mean. 

			NATALYA
		It is serious business.  Help me.  I will do for you big, big favour.

			EBBA
		I don't need big big favour.

			NATALYA
		Who knows?  Maybe you will.

BRIAN, up left, in his lab, in a white coat, hums cheerily, reading print-outs.
In JACK's office, right, MICHELENE is bending over a desk getting a quick seeing to from JACK.  The fax spews out a message.  JACK leans sideways - reads - yelps.  MICHELENE turns her head.  He rips off the fax, holds it in front of her.  They both whoop with glee at the message.

SCENE SIX

THE CAFE VIOLET.  At lunch are EBBA, NATALYA and BA.  They eat in silence for a beat.  BA, head down, is eating with enjoyment and concentration.  EBBA refills BA's glass with pink lemonade.  CAROLLE enters, sees them, crosses to join them.

			CAROLLE
		Hi.

			EBBA
		Hullo.

			CAROLLE
		Having lunch?

			EBBA
		Ah...yes.

			NATALYA
		(Grabs CAROLLE by the arm.)  You got them?

CAROLLE dives in her huge bag, waves tickets.

			NATALYA
		(To EBBA)  For Ba and me.

			CAROLLE
		Tickets for the charity show.

			EBBA
		Oh Natalya!  (To BA) Carolle's got tickets, you can go to the fashion show.

			BA
		Good.  Fuck Michelene.  (They laugh.)

			EBBA
		Ba!  (To CAROLLE) Thanks, Carolle, I know they've been like gold, with the Princess coming.

			BA
		I be Princess.

			NATALYA
		Of course, darling.  We find you marvellous dress...big jewels...

			BA
		Lots...

			NATALYA
		So many you can't walk.

			BA
		That's no good.

			NATALYA
		I'm joking.

			BA
		Oh. (Her hands are sticky, she wipes them in the tablecloth.)

			EBBA
		Ba!...use your head!

So BA wipes her hands on her head.  They laugh.

BA bends her head to her food, then looks up abruptly.

			BA
		Why haven't I got a boyfriend?

EBBA and NATALYA look at each other.

			NATALYA
		Ah, who needs it?

			BA
		(Simply)  I do.

An awkward silence.  CAROLLE clears her throat, turns to EBBA.

			CAROLLE
		You were going to give me some tips...about writing...

			EBBA
		Oh.  Yes.  I'm a bit tied up at the moment...

			NATALYA
		Help her.  (EBBA grimaces at her.)  Ba...we buy hat.

BA gets up, takes food with her.  She and NATALYA leave.  CAROLLE leans forward, expectant.

			EBBA
		Oh.  Ah...would you like something to drink - never mind... (as CAROLLE takes on her drinks decision face) have some Evian.  (Pours for CAROLLE.)

			CAROLLE
		(Waving for WAITER)  They know me here.  Could I have it with a dash of Perrier, or if they haven't got Perrier, just a splash - a smidgen of Malvern water?  (Waves frantically.  The WAITER walks the other way.)

			EBBA
		Have some lemon.  (Chucks a lemon from the table display into Carolle's glass.)  Oh, sorry...(as it splashes CAROLLE).

			CAROLLE
		It doesn't  matter.  I'm not dressy.  Not anything really.

EBBA tries to think of something to say.

			EBBA
		We were going to...you were going to tell me about...

			CAROLLE
		Yes.

Another silence.  EBBA makes to start, sighs and stops.

			CAROLLE
		I realise...

			EBBA
		Sure.  (Has a go)  You want to...ah...write?

			CAROLLE
		Yes.

			EBBA
		Apart from journalism.

			CAROLLE
		I'm never going to get anywhere with that.  Let's face it, it's who you know.  And legs.

			EBBA
		Surely that's true whatever you - (she catches CAROLLE's eye, shuts up.  Pause.)  Now.  Let's see.  What books do you like?  Thrillers?

			CAROLLE
		If they're not too gory.

			EBBA
		Adventure?

			CAROLLE
		Not really.

			EBBA
		Love stories?  Joanna Trollope?  Rose Tremain?

			CAROLLE
		Oh yes.

			EBBA
		Anita Brookner?

CAROLLE pulls a face.

			EBBA
		Bit of a downer?

			CAROLLE
		What's wrong with happy endings?  It is fiction.

The WAITER leans over, refills their glasses with Evian.

			EBBA
		(After an awkward silence.)  Being a writer is a lonely life.

			CAROLLE
		Not for you.

			EBBA
		That's because you don't see me when I'm working.  (Thoughtfully)  They do say it helps if you've known pain.

			CAROLLE
		Pain?  My editor says I look like something that's happened to Julia Roberts.

EBBA laughs.

			CAROLLE
		I did have an idea.  About a woman.

			EBBA
		Go on...

			CAROLLE
		About a woman who looks after her mother.  Then the mother leaves.

			EBBA
		Did your mother leave?

			CAROLLE
		Yes.  (Slight pause) She was very good-looking.  Slim.

			EBBA
		Your father?

			CAROLLE
		He was always afraid she would walk out.

			EBBA
		Write it.  Write the story.

			CAROLLE
		I don't know how it ends.

			EBBA
		Good - it can end the way you want.  (She looks up as MICHELENE and JACK loom over her, both grinning broadly.)  What are you doing here?

			JACK
		Three guesses.

			MICHELENE
		In the bag!

			EBBA
		What?

			JACK
		It's happened!

			MICHELENE
		One big happy family!  Tara!  (Does a twirl.)

			EBBA
		What's happened?

			JACK
		Lamarr Wainthropp.  Taken over you, me, amalgamating seven companies under the Wainthropp umbrella...we're all part of the biggest international publishing consortium on the globe.

			MICHELENE
		Celebration time!  (As CAROLLE hovers)  Hullo, Carolle.

			CAROLLE
		Wow!  May I do a feature - ?

			MICHELENE
		Ring my office.  Waiter, could we have a bottle of champagne?  Krug?  

NATALYA appears with BA, who is wearing a colourful new shortie coat with silver dangly bits and carrying a striped hat box.

			BA
		Hi guys, what's cooking?  

She pulls a grotesque face at MICHELENE.

			MICHELENE
		?

			BA
		(Hisses)  I'm in my element.

			MICHELENE
		Has she been drinking?

			JACK
		(To NATALYA)  Celebration!  We've just been taken over by Mr Big - Lamarr Wainthropp... the czar of publishing...where's the bloody champagne?

			NATALYA
		Fantastisch!  My husband!  (Kisses him.)

			CAROLLE
		Won't it mean shake-out?

			JACK
		Possibly, probably.  But it means bigger capitalization, wider circulation...better deals for all our clients...(hugs EBBA) darling...if you want that place on a windy beach with a leaky beach hut - room for a mansion out back - (WAITER serves champagne.)

			EBBA
		This is good?  (BA knocks hers back, gets a refill.)

			NATALYA
		More money?

			JACK
		Yes...yes!  (To each.)

			EBBA
		(To MICHELENE) You think so?

			MICHELENE
		Way of the world.  Publishing as Gentlemen's Relish? - for the birds!

			EBBA
		If you can't beat them, join them.

			MICHELENE
		Absolutely!

			JACK
		Art's always been dependant on patrons...kings, emperors -

BA holds her glass out to NATALYA for more champagne.

			MICHELENE
		- now it's press barons.

			CAROLLE
		There's sure to be shake out.

			MICHELENE
		To Lamarr Wainthropp!  God bless his Y-fronts, health and happiness to all who sail in the new ship Conglomerate...yoohoo!

BA spews up all over MICHELENE.  

BRIAN enters his lab, switches on light.  There is a projector.  He switches on and projects slides of wriggling worms.  He twiddles the knob till he gets a close-up of a worm.

			BRIAN
		Oh, you beautiful creature!

He sits, leaning forward, gazes at the close-up of the worm.

In her corner, CAROLLE sits, slumped in her chair, depressed.  She switches on the television, can't stand the loud chatter, switches off and just sits.

SCENE SEVEN

			JACK
		(Paces in dinner jacket, calls)  Come On!

MICHELENE enters in full taffeta, one leg bare to the thigh.  Poses for his verdict.

			JACK
		Yeah! - catch up with that later - Ebba...

EBBA enters, looking beautiful.

			JACK
		Woo-woo!

			EBBA
		Shut up.

			MICHELENE
		You see?  She can - when she wants.

JACK takes their wraps from MICHELENE, hustles them out.

			JACK
		Come on, we're late...

BA tries on NATALYA'S clothes.  CAROLLE eats from a large bag of crisps.

Later.  EBBA and JACK.  They are in the same clothes.

			JACK
		I can't believe it.  Usually he's pretty foxy, he's like a lot of these money guys, he's sharp enough to keep his trap shut, but he never stopped talking to you.  What was he saying?

			EBBA
		We were talking about birds.

			JACK
		Birds?

			EBBA
		He was brought up near the seashore, like Bri and me.  Funny when you grow up by the sea... makes you claustrophobic inland.

			JACK
		Did he say that?

			EBBA
		Yes.  I said I felt the same.

			JACK
		You were on the terrace for ages.  Did he come on to you?

			EBBA
		No.

			JACK
		What about you?

			EBBA
		Me?

			JACK
		Yah - do you find him attractive?

			EBBA
		(Shrugs) For an older man.  There's the aphrodisiac of success - the power thing.

			JACK
		Rattle of the wallet turns you on, huh?

			EBBA
		No, but I recognise it.

He kisses her.

			EBBA
		Is he married?

			JACK
		Not now.  Number three wasn't the Mama Mia he was hoping for.  He wants children.

			EBBA
		Children?

			JACK
		Yup.

The telephone rings.  JACK answers it.

			JACK
		Yeah...oh, hullo sir.  Yes she is.  Certainly.  (He switches on the microphone.  A very pleasant deep American's voice.)

			WAINTHROPP
		Miss Marriner?

			EBBA
		(Starts with surprise then moves nearer mike) Mr Wainthropp?

			WAINTHROPP
		I wondered if you were free for lunch tomorrow.

			EBBA
		(Looks at JACK) Well, I...I don't...(JACK nods at her urgently)...yes, I think I could manage that...

			WAINTHROPP
		Kind of you, I appreciate it.  Twelve forty-five?  I'll send a car.

			EBBA
		Thank you.

			WAINTHROPP
		Good night.  (Rings off.)

			JACK
		You see?

			EBBA
		No, I don't.

			JACK
		It's great.

			EBBA
		No it isn't.  Get me out of it!

CAROLLE, on the telephone, files a story in an undertone.

SCENE EIGHT

EBBA alone.  NATALYA enters.

			NATALYA
		What is wrong?

			EBBA
		Nothing.

			NATALYA
		Why do you cry?

			EBBA
		I'm being silly.

			NATALYA
		No.  Not silly.  You cry for your man?

			EBBA
		No!  I was listening to the radio.  It was about the war.

			NATALYA
		You cry for your country?  This is shit.

			EBBA
		Thank you.  Thanks very much.  What do you cry for?

			NATALYA
		For me.

			EBBA
		Fuck off about my country being shit.

			NATALYA
		It is shit, imperialist pig.  Is over for you.  Bye bye.  The little fingers of Indonesia - Philippines takes your biscuit, and soon China has the trade of all the world by long nails...(she gestures.)

			EBBA
		Shut - up.

			NATALYA
		And you, little piddle island, is nowhere.  No power now - even Wales which is raining and no coal mines left, is wishing to be free and have romance and fable of itself.  You could not even fight - what Englishman would fight as we Russians fought at Stalingrad - all are brain-drain and gone, who is left to defend you?  You are shit.

			EBBA
		Oh Natalya - you're homesick!

SCENE NINE

			MICHELENE
		(Dialling out.  She gets an answering machine.)  Ohh! Brian.  This is the fourth message.  Will you - repeat will you either pick up or contact me asap.  Do you want the American refrigerator with the larger ice-making machine?  And are we to turn the north room into a gymnasium - if so, I need your input, otherwise, Emile suggests a studio - artwise - or a dark room - I'm presuming you don't want a customized laboratory.  I can't make all these decisions on my own - oh and would you transfer another five thousand into the joint account.

			CAROLLE
		(On the telephone)  Newsdesk, please.  Carolle Carpenter for Simon Chance.  Simon.  It's definite.  I babysat the handicapped sister last night.  The Marriner house.  Yes - Ebba Marriner and Lamarr Wainthropp.  They went to the minimalist exhibition at the Tate, and then Claridges.  Not until 1.50am - I left them making coffee in the kitchen.  Yes, just the two of them.  Thanks very much.  Of course I will -I'm hoping for an exclusive.  Well, if you insist.

			NATALYA
		(On the telephone)  Hullo - (laughs)...if you like - of course, why should I mind - oh, you are funny - maybe - maybe - oh you are demand - I see you in one hour, OK?  (She goes.)

BRIAN brushes his hair with two brushes, wets it down with something from a test-tube after smelling it.

A DISCO.  Flashing lights.  BA dancing in wild ecstasy.  At one point, head-shaking, she ricks her neck, and staggers, pulling a cross face.  But she recovers and dances even more wildly, arching and bending.

SCENE TEN

JACK and EBBA.  Tension between them.  They sit apart in silence.  He makes to speak, changes his mind.

DOORBELL.  Neither answers it.  It rings again.  She glares at him.  He frowns, gets up.  And lets in MICHELENE.

			MICHELENE
		Where is she?

			EBBA
		Who?

			MICHELENE
		The Russian!

			EBBA
		I don't know, I'm not her keeper.

			JACK
		She took Ba to the shops.

			MICHELENE
		Did you know?

			EBBA
		Know what?

			MICHELENE
		About her...and Brian.

			EBBA
		No.
			JACK (together)
		Yes.

			MICHELENE
		You knew - you knew she'd been seeing him.

			EBBA
		No.

			JACK
		I...well -

			MICHELENE
		Was it your idea?

			EBBA
		No.

			MICHELENE
		Obviously you feel she's a better match - Russian royalty -

			JACK
		Royalty?

			MICHELENE
		(Out of face)  If one is to believe her...

			JACK
		(Laughs) Natalya?

			MICHELENE
		I've seen her emeralds - and the brooch with the Romanov crest - she was trying to flog it to Princess Michael.  Are you saying you don't know what's been going on?

			EBBA
		Michelene, I never know what's going on!

			MICHELENE
		(Brandishing her left hand with the engagement ring) Well if he thinks he's getting this back he's reading the wrong label.  I'll flog it first.

			EBBA
		Have you two fallen out?

			MICHELENE
		Hasn't he told you?  He's broken off our engagement!

			EBBA
		What?

			JACK
		He's aborting the wedding?

			MICHELENE
		So it seems.

			JACK
		Because of Natalya.

			MICHELENE
		I presume so.  Apparently he took her down to Surrey to see the house...

			JACK
		...and she pissed on it?

			MICHELENE
		No!  She said it was charming, and hoped he'd be very happy (through her teeth).  For some reason...for some reason it's put him off!

			EBBA
		Good grief.

			JACK
		Baffling.

			EBBA
		I expect it's just -

			JACK
		He'll probably come round.  Give it time.  Natalya has an effect on people.

			MICHELENE
		Well I'm not standing for it, and you can make that clear to her.  What is she planning to do - divorce you and marry him?  It's ridiculous, I can't make head nor tail of it all...Goddam it, it's only Brian.

			EBBA
		I'm sorry, what did you say?

			MICHELENE
		I didn't mean it like that.

			EBBA
		Yes you did.  Michelene.  You caught Brian at a weak moment when he was exhausted after three years of punishing work.  He saw you making a prat of yourself, in public, and felt sorry for you.

			JACK
		Eb...

			EBBA
		You - are a scrote.  Not to mention a wuss and a jessie.  No doubt Natalya has pointed this out to him.  Whatever she may - or may not - be, she does have a clear mind.

			MICHELENE
		Whose side are you on?

			EBBA
		Nobody's.  Not even my own as far as I can see.  

			MICHELENE
		Well, he's not backing out now.  If I were to cost my time alone - I've taken your sister off your hands three times in the last six months.

			EBBA
		Only once on your own and you said that was a debacle.

			MICHELENE
		She spat on a woman's head!

			EBBA
		Because she made fun of her.

			MICHELENE
		So what was I supposed to do?

			EBBA
		(Tired)  I don't know.

			MICHELENE
		Let's face it - it's not everyone would want to marry into a family with -

			EBBA
		With what?  With what, Michelene?

			JACK
		Eb -

			EBBA
		(To MICHELENE)  Why don't you just clear off?

			JACK
		Ebba!

			MICHELENE
		This is ridiculous.  Where is Brian?

			JACK
		I don't know.

			EBBA
		Get out of my house.

MICHELENE turns and goes.  Sound of a door slamming.  Silence.

			JACK
		(Laughs.)  Natalya and Brian!  She's giving us all a seeing to - except you of course.  Look...where were we?  All I'm saying is -

			EBBA
		I heard what you said.  I still can't believe it, but I heard it clearly enough.  (She rises, stands over him.)  You're a pimp.  I've been sharing my secrets through the night with a pimp.

			JACK
		I'm being realistic.

			EBBA
		You're being opportunistic.

			JACK
		Yes, if you must.  This is the world we live in!

			EBBA
		You're talking pre-nuclear physics.  There is no `world we live in'.  Only the world we make... WE make up.

			JACK
		Sorry, I do not share your idealism...I'm out there, in that world.  You are not.  Because I'm out there you are able to...do what you do... protected -

			EBBA
		Exploited -

			JACK
		Protected...by me.  You're the best.  I honour that.  I'm prepared to give you my life, to be the back-up.

			EBBA
		But not to have children with me.

			JACK
		Which is why Lamarr Wainthropp is such a beautiful solution for us.  Goddam it, Ebba -you're a woman with a heart.  Lamarr Wainthropp's had his broken.  His first wife dies in childbirth...he marries again, his wife miscarries till she gets fed up and runs, he marries a fertile-looking Italian who turns out to be a harpy.  And then he meets you.  You can give him what he wants, a couple of kids, then an amicable divorce.  Meanwhile, I stay in the background.

			EBBA
		We are not in the same universe.  How could I have believed that we were?  You persuaded me that to be a salesman was an honest job. I've admired you for doing what I couldn't...face people... make deals.  I've been grateful.  Now I ask myself, has the job done this to you, or was I always mistaken...were you always a pander?

		I should have seen it.  She told me.

			JACK
		Natalya?

			EBBA
		No.  The journalist.  `He's not prepared to commit.'

Silence.

			JACK
		Ebba!  Come on.  There's no mileage in it any more.  Dad?  Head of the family?  Women and children first?  You don't need our protection any more, the honour code is cracked to pieces -I can't give you what you want.

			EBBA
		You mean you won't?

			JACK
		I can do better.  I can turn you towards it.

			EBBA
		I'm to marry one of the richest men in the world and give him children.  So that you can prosper in his conglomerate.  Have influence over him, over me.  You're ambitious, Jack.

Silence.

			JACK
		Will you at least think about what I've said?  Give it realistic thought.

		It needn't make any difference to us!

			EBBA
		The fact that you can say that is a knife thrust I shall never recover from.

NATALYA enters with BA.  Silence.  BA looks from EBBA to JACK and back to EBBA.

			BA
		I been fucked.

A little later.  EBBA, JACK and NATALYA.  EBBA and NATALYA are rowing.

			EBBA
		I don't believe you!

			NATALYA
		She was always in my eyes - !

			EBBA
		It's a dive!  You'd no business taking her there.

			NATALYA
		She likes to dance.

			EBBA
		Ba doesn't tell lies.  If she says -

			NATALYA
		She doesn't know what means to be fucked -

			EBBA
		Of course she knows.

			NATALYA
		Examine her.  You will see.  She drank one beer, that is all... maybe two, maybe mine as well, I don't drink this piss...

EBBA storms out of the room.

			JACK
		That's blown it.

			NATALYA
		(Shrugs.)  What if she is fucked?

			JACK
		Come off it.  Has she been?

			NATALYA
		How should I know?  (Lights up.)

			JACK
		Christ Almighty.

			NATALYA
		Is not true.  You know why she says this.

			JACK
		Why?

			NATALYA
		(Shrugs) She feels the hate in the room.  It makes her mischief.

			JACK
		Mischievous.

			NATALYA
		Whatever.  She is being wicked.  I know this feeling.  We share.  So - will she marry him?  Ebba?  The rich man?

			JACK
		I doubt it.

			NATALYA
		Hah!  Down grade for Jack hanh?

			JACK
		You could say so.

			NATALYA
		What will you do, my husband?

			JACK
		Cut it out.

			NATALYA
		I think of something.

			JACK
		I wish you would.  If she could just see...the way I figure it, we could make everyone happy...find you a billionaire on the side.

			NATALYA
		Good.  (She smokes, looks at him shrewdly.)  Did you make arrangement?

			JACK
		Sorry?

			NATALYA
		For my brother.  To come here.

			JACK
		Sorry, haven't had time.

			NATALYA
		He needs to leave quickly.

			JACK
		OK, I'll see to it.

			NATALYA
		Please do.

			JACK
		Look, I've said I'll try.  I can't promise anything.  I have some calls to make.

He grabs his cellphone and goes.  NATALYA looks after him.  She sits and thinks.  EBBA enters.

			NATALYA
		You see...she was joking with you.  (EBBA sits heavily.)  She is not fucked.

			EBBA
		(Mutters)  No, I'm the one who's fucked.

			NATALYA
		What?

			EBBA
		You heard me.

			NATALYA
		Why do you quarrel with your lover?

			EBBA
		Oh don't say you don't know...that he hasn't told you...that you haven't heard us yelling all over the arrondissement?  You think it's a good idea, no doubt - marrying me off.

			NATALYA
		I don't know.  I haven't met him, your rich man.  (EBBA broods.)  What is he like?

			EBBA
		Old.

			NATALYA
		How old?

			EBBA
		Bloody sixty.  (Slight pause.)  He doesn't look it.

			NATALYA
		What does he look like?

			EBBA
		Like a forty year old tennis player from Australia.  (Gloomily)  He's got his own teeth.  Probably capped.

			NATALYA
		You have been to bed with him?  (EBBA shakes her head.)  Maybe you should.  Not if you don't wish.

			EBBA
		He's all right.  Sane.

			NATALYA
		Does he have sense of humour?

			EBBA
		Yes.  Yes, he does.

			NATALYA
		You see?  You are involved already.

			EBBA
		(Laughs)  Not in the way you mean.

BA comes in in a kimono, flowers in her hair, twirls lazily, switches on TV, watches with sound off on her stomach.

			NATALYA
		You don't want him?

			BA
		Wan' who?

			NATALYA
		This rich man I was telling you, Ba-bar-a.  He wants to marry Ebba.

			BA
		No.

			NATALYA
		Why not?

			BA
		She got Jack.  (Goes back to TV.)

			EBBA
		I got Jack.

			NATALYA
		You know what kind of man is Jack.

			EBBA
		Do I?

			NATALYA
		You told me, you want children.  So - protect them.  My father is in Afghanistan wounded.  Useless.  No pension, no money, my mother works for bloody foreigners.  When you choose a man you choose a father for your son, for your daughter.  You can not be frivolous.

Silence.

			EBBA
		I take what you say.  The trouble is, I have chosen.

			NATALYA
		Jack.

			EBBA
		He's everything I most dislike - he's venal, calculating -

		But -

		I've had lovers - a doctor...an illustrator, an Irish songwriter who went out one day and didn't come back...

			NATALYA
		Not so many.
			EBBA
		I'm a romantic.  I have to be in love.  When I met Jack it was like coming home.  I knew all about him before we spoke.  I can't go back, start all over again.  I'm ready now.  Every month is a little death.

			NATALYA
		You are a good woman - you are deserving better.

			EBBA
		Oh come on!  Anyway, he's not all rogue.  He did marry you.  He's more of a knight errant than he knows, the silly sod.

			NATALYA
		The marriage was illegal.

			EBBA
		What?  What?!  (She bursts out laughing.)

			NATALYA
		We tricked him, my brother and me.  His Russian is tarrible.

They laugh.

			EBBA
		Oh, by the way.  Your brother.  All fixed.  (Takes papers, hands them to NATALYA.)  Airline ticket - I've asked for him asap.

NATALYA takes the papers.  She holds them.

			NATALYA
		I owe you big favour.

			EBBA
		Oh, rats.

			NATALYA
		I mean this.  (She thinks.)  You want him...Jack?

			BA
		She want Jack.  (Turns back to TV.)

			EBBA
		I want Jack.

			NATALYA
		OK.  I fix for you.  When do you see your rich man?

			EBBA
		I'm supposed to be having dinner with him tonight.

			NATALYA
		Where?
			EBBA
		(Pulls a face.)  The Ritz.

			NATALYA
		He will come here?

			EBBA
		(Shakes her head.)  I said I'd join him.

			NATALYA
		You have hat?

			EBBA
		Hat?

			NATALYA
		I need hat.  Small.  With veil.

BA kicks the hat box across with her foot.

			NATALYA
		Ba-bar-a - Angelica!

			BA
		That's not my name.

			NATALYA
		(Hugs her.)  I can wear your hat?

			BA
		Yuh, but don't mess it up.

NATALYA tries it on.  BA offers flowers.  They try.  EBBA shakes her head.  The flowers come off.

			NATALYA
		At what hour the Ritz?

			EBBA
		Nine.  Don't jump him, it won't work.

			NATALYA
		Please.  I am professional.

			EBBA
		That's what I'm worried about.

			NATALYA
		He will think me virgin - a maiden!

			EBBA
		That I doubt.

			BA
		(Points to the hat.)  Don't break it.

			NATALYA
		It will come back neat and new as before.

			BA
		Good.  (Sits up with cross expression.)  I don't want to be a smelly bride, you know.

SCENE ELEVEN

A CATWALK.  SOUNDS OF PREPARATION.  SOFT MUSIC IN BACKGROUND.
Standing are EBBA and NATALYA, heads together gossiping.  EBBA looks up in surprise as BRIAN enters and sits separately.  He is escorting CAROLLE.  EBBA turns to NATALYA.

			EBBA
		You could have found him someone more exciting.  She's not a great journalist.

			NATALYA
		Bloody tarrible journoleest, but good wide hips.  We do makeover, change the hair.

			EBBA
		I'd have liked a higher IQ.

			NATALYA
		Your brother will be spurned by clever woman.  He is chauvinist.

			EBBA
		Only by default.

			NATALYA
		Sure.  What woman can compete with his laboratory?  It's the best I can do.

She waggles her huge engagement ring across at CAROLLE.  Who comes across to marvel at it.

			NATALYA
		Many, many carats.  The price...you long to know, Carolle...is three hundred and fifty thousand pounds...special price for Mr Wainthropp.  (She lifts CAROLLE's hand, looks at CAROLLE's small engagement ring, drops CAROLLE's hand dismissively.)

		Michelene...Michelene...come and sit with me.

MICHELENE, seeing them, looks outraged.  Then joins them.  CAROLLE scurries away back to BRIAN.  Who waves cordially at MICHELENE.

			MICHELENE
		What are you doing here?

			NATALYA
		Salabrating.

			MICHELENE
		Don't tell me - ?  (Glaring at BRIAN and CAROLLE.)

			NATALYA
		Rebound.  After you give him kick out of door.

			MICHELENE
		I give him...?  (She covers.)  Well, second thoughts time.  I'm sorry, Ebba, do hope Brian isn't feeling too bruised.

			EBBA
		I hear he's given you his share of the house.  What are you going to do, sell it?

			MICHELENE
		I've already done a swap for a Notting Hill five storey with four bathrooms, conservatory, and access to private gardens.

			NATALYA
		Good condition?

			MICHELENE
		Not a decent fitting in the place.

			NATALYA
		I will advise.  Aspect?

			MICHELENE
		Backing south-west.

			NATALYA
		Very good.  Furnish moderne, but not minimal -is crap.  Good pictures...but domestic...you are not a gallery...so, nice Euan Uglow girl's bum, Rose Hilton, little Craigie Aitcheson yellow bird ...I have also some Russian painters who will be so, so valuable soon.  Simple pale walls...no false marble, no splash about with silly finish... plain kitchen - Aga I suppose.  I will assist.

			MICHELENE
		Thank you.

			NATALYA
		But you are still wearing them!  (She yanks at MICHELENE's pearls.)

			MICHELENE
		Sorry...

			NATALYA
		Jewels must be good!

			MICHELENE
		That's all very well, I don't have your advantages, Princess -

			NATALYA
		You have no money?  Look at girls coming from Chelsea Art School.  Do they have money?  They look sensashonal!  Find unfashionable shop in area where they...what is...peoples taking in things for money...

			EBBA
		Hock shops.  Pawnbrokers.

			NATALYA
		Yah.  Look and find.  For your skeen - garnets...many ropes...and yellow topaz, like your eyes.  Fire opals to give life to the face...and dye your hair red!  Be lively woman...peacock.  And cease to worry.  Take a little drugs from time to time - relax...maybe find a good protector.

			MICHELENE
		Where am I going to find a Lamarr Wainthropp, like Ebba?

			NATALYA
		He is with me now.  Ebba is with Jack.  (MICHELENE's jaw drops.)  For Ebba, moonstones, river pearls, everything pale. But you.  Never again enter chain store, not even for G-string.  Cease to be English...`oh, we don't talk of money, we are rentier living off preference of the world.'  You don't have these colonies any more.  Like Americans say - get wise.  Make Money.  You are persistent woman - sell!  Woman who can sell is rich - independent!  But first you need ten thousand for the teeth.

			MICHELENE
		Princess, where am I going to find that sort of money?

NATALYA takes off her engagement ring, hands it to MICHELENE.  Who gawps at it.

			EBBA
		Natalya!...

			NATALYA
		Sell it...get comparative price, maybe auction.  Do it well.

			MICHELENE
		I can't take this.

			NATALYA
		When The Princess Natalya offers you gift, be gracious to accept.

She waves MICHELENE away imperiously.  MICHELENE totters over to BRIAN and CAROLLE, shows them the ring.  They look across in amazement.

			EBBA
		You - are mad.  Why?
NATALYA shrugs.

			NATALYA
		I am sorry for this woman.

			EBBA
		Why?!

			NATALYA
		She is provincial.

			EBBA
		What are you going to say to Lamarr?

			NATALYA
		I lost the ring.  Buy me another.

MUSIC up a touch.  More noise from backstage.

			EBBA
		I wonder if he'll believe you.

			NATALYA
		Doesn't matter.  Tomorrow I go home.

			EBBA
		What?

			NATALYA
		I said, tomorrow I go home.  Shura is safe...you brought my brother here.  (She kisses EBBA.)  Better not to sleep with him, he is careless boy.

			EBBA
		He's adorable.  Why are you going back?

			NATALYA
		I must.

			EBBA
		Why?

			NATALYA
		Because nothing is right here.  Even the smells is wrong.  I need her.

			EBBA
		Your mother?

			NATALYA
		Mother Russia.

			EBBA
		Is he coming with you?  Lamarr?

			NATALYA
		Nah, nah, nah.  I leave early, you will drive me to the airport...here...keys of car.  For you.

They have to speak up as the music begins to surge.

			EBBA
		I don't want your car.

			NATALYA
		Sell it!  Buy good clothes - some shoes -

			EBBA
		I shall do nothing of the sort, I shall give the car back to Lamarr.  What shall I say to him?

Music up.

			NATALYA
		What?

			EBBA
		What do you want me to tell Lamarr?

			NATALYA
		Tell him...

		(Music up.)

		Tell him...Dosvedanya!

Music.  Lights.  The Fashion Show - MODELS showing outré clothes.  At the end the BRIDE sashays on to the catwalk.  It is BA.

EBBA and NATALYA watch, backs to us, and applaud.  JACK enters, stands between them, a hand on each bum.  BA moves up and down the catwalk, dancing ecstatically.