I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

A short play in one act

By

NBG

Nov. 2001

SETTING: A country home in Connecticut, sometime in the early 1960’s.

CAST:

Randall…………….a young naïve law student, felicity’s fiancé.
Felicity…………….young woman, she met Randall at University
Bert Clarke……… Felicity’s eccentric father, a retired British Colonel of the Coldstream Guards
Joan……………….Felicity’s mother, an American heiress
Harry……………..the gardener/handyman
Radigan…………..the British butler
Mrs. McAvery……the cook/housekeeper

AT RISE:

The back yard of the country home of Felicity’s parents, a flagstone covered garden, strewn with patio furniture, potted plants, a barbeque fireplace and an outdoor bar. It is late afternoon on a Saturday in July, on a bright, sunny day. The birds are singing, and the roses are in bloom. HARRY is busily tending the roses, cheerfully humming away, when RADIGAN enters and begins setting up the bar. There is door leading from the house to the patio, is upstage center. There is a path leading around the house and gardens, both stage left and stage right. The lawn is downstage center.

RADIGAN: Tell me, Harry, are you pretending to be a bee?

HARRY: (Continues working) What? You mean, as in, ‘busy as a bee’? Oh, that I am, Radigan. These roses won’t tend themselves ya’know. Delicate things, roses, have to treat ‘em just right…

RADIGAN: No, I was referring to your humming. For a moment there, I thought I was being attacked by a mob of angry wasps.

HARRY: (turns) Well if you don’t like my hummin’, fancy-pants…

RADIGAN: (Ignores Harry’s outburst), The party will be starting shortly, and I’ve bet you’ve not even set up the barbeque yet! Felicity is bringing one of her posh university friends over, and the Colonel wants everything to be perfect. Where’s Mrs. McAvery? I thought she was going to bring out the condiments for the bar? I can’t tend bar, wait on everybody and prepare the food too! The cooking and cleaning is supposed to be her job. Yet, I seem to have to do everything myself these days, not a one of them normally a part of my position. Why only yesterday, the Mrs. asked me to go to clean up after the dogs, as if I was some ordinary house boy. I should have stayed in London.

HARRY: Yes, that would have been nice.

RADIGAN: Are you going to help with the party, or are you going to preen your roses, or pick your nose, or whatever it is that you are doing?

HARRY: That’s prune the roses, and for your information, I already set up the barbeque. I only thought...

RADIGAN: Ah, see? There’s your problem then.

HARRY: What?

RADIGAN: Thinking. You’re not getting paid to think. You’re getting paid to tend the gardens and do odd jobs…like setting up the barbeque and then staying out of sight until you are needed.

HARRY: I’d like to make you disappear…

RADIGAN: The Colonel mentioned that they were to play some croquet after the party, have you set that up yet?

HARRY: Croquet? Huh. Why not just lie down on the lawn and take a nap? Same thing if you ask me….

RADIGAN: I wasn’t asking you about napping, though I imagine you’re quite the expert, I was asking if you’ve…

HARRY: I’m not deaf, and no, I haven’t. Since no one bothered to tell me about it, and since I’m not a mind-reader, and, since I prefer the good old-fashioned American game of horseshoe pitching, to banging on some balls with a wooden mallet…

RADIGAN: I’d like to bang your balls with a wooden…

HARRY: I always suspected you were a ball banger, Radigan…

RADIGAN: What! Now see here,…

HARRY: Sorry, I’ve no time to be gawking at yer balls, son. I’ve a croquet game to set up…maybe later.

(Chuckling quietly to himself, HARRY hustles off to stage right, leaving RADIGAN temporarily speechless. RADIGAN then notices that HARRY has left behind his pruning sheers, underneath and behind some shrubbery.)

RADIGAN: ‘Ere now, what’s this then? Harry, you lazy sod, leaving your tools laying about in plain sight. That’s what’s wrong with this country, no work ethics, no respect for their betters, I must ‘ave been bonkers to leave London. Blimey! What was I thinking? (Stops setting up the bar and stalks over to the shrubbery. The shears are partly behind the bush out of easy reach, so RADIGAN has to scoot behind the shrubbery and bend down for them. Just as he enters the shrubbery, FELICITY and RANDALL enter, arms linked together affectionately, from stage left. Neither of them sees RADIGAN.)

RANDALL: I must admit I am rather nervous about meeting your parents, Felicity.

FELICITY: Oh for goodness sakes! What’s there to be nervous about, Randall? They’re just people, same as you and me, only…old.

(They sit down at the patio table, RANDALL holding FELICITY’S chair out for her, as a gentleman should. Both chairs face the house, with FELICITY’S chair facing partially towards stage left. )

Thank you Randall. Why are you so nervous?

RANDALL: Because you’re making me keep our engagement a secret, that’s why!

(RADIGAN’S head pops up from the Shrubbery, with a shocked look on his face. FELICITY starts to glance in his direction, and he ducks his head down again.)

FELICTY: I’m sure it will be fine, darling.

RANDALL: But..but what about when he finds out about your…um—condition?

FELICITY: Dad’s been talking for ages about how much he’s been looking forward to having a grandson.

(RADIGAN pops his head out from the bushes again, this time with an interested look—smirking and arching his eyebrow. RANDALL starts to turn in his direction, and the butler ducks down again)

RANDALL: I hope there aren’t any sharp implements lying around. Thank God your father’s not a lumberjack. Say--he doesn’t own a sword, does he?

FELICITY: Oh Randall, don’t’ be so melodramatic about it, sweetheart. We’ll tell them…eventually. I just think we should wait until the time is right. It’s only because I want my parents to get to know you first, before we break the news to them.

RANDALL: What if that’s not all that gets broken?

FELICITY: What do you mean?

RANDALL: (Leaning over) I mean Felicity, that I’m worried that when your dad finds out about us. He was in the marines—

FELICITY: Coldstream Guards—do me a favor, don’t EVER call my father a marine!

RANDALL: (Sets back, looking at her warily) Why’s that?

FELICITY: Randall, what’s it matter? Just…don’t.

RANDALL: That’s not very reassuring. When I—I mean, when we break the news to him, what if your dad...

FELICITY: What if my dad, what?

RANDALL: What if he breaks me!

FELICITY: (Laughs nervously. RADIGAN nods his head, indicating to the audience that this is a definite possibility) Oh he’d never do that….probably.

RANDAL: (His voice raising slightly in a nervous pitch, as he fingers his collar) Probably? Oh thanks, I feel much better now.

(Voices from off-stage, very close to stage left, but out of sight from the house)

BERT: Come on mother, let’s not be late.

JOAN: You run along dear, I’ve some things to discuss with Mrs. McAvery in the kitchen. I think she’s burnt the horsy-dervy’s.

BERT: The what? Horsy dervy’s? Damn and blast Joan, have you been into the drinks cabinet already? Good God, woman, the party hasn’t even started yet! And what’s this about Mrs. McAvery? You mean that blasted woman’s ruined the hors d’oeuvres again?

JOAN: Mind your language, Bert! I’ve had one little drink, that’s all. I smell something burning. Don’t worry about it, I’ll soon have it sorted. You go on ahead and keep our daughter and her friend company, I’ll be along directly.

(Meanwhile, FELICITY and RANDALL have turned to listen to the exchange, giving RADIGAN his chance to sneak out from the bushes and hide the shears behind the bar. He then goes on about with preparing the bar, as if he’d only just arrived.)

BERT: I don’t know why you keep that woman on here. She can’t cook worth a damn.

JOAN: Language!

BERT: Hruumph. Sorry.

JOAN: She’s an excellent housekeeper, dear. As my late Aunt Mary used to say, ‘only God is perfect.’

BERT: Well, you wouldn’t catch ME burning the hors d’oeuveres!

JOAN: Yes, God…I mean, yes dear. Now, do go on, Bert, mustn’t keep the young people waiting.

BERT: Hrrumph. Yes, quite right, too. We must show these youngsters the importance of punctuality.

JOAN: Yes, dear.

(BERT marches in from stage left, the two young people rise to meet him)

FELICITY: Daddy! Don’t you look splendid! Dad, I’d like you to meet Randall, the boy I was telling you all about.

RANDALL: (Nervous squeak returning): Y-you what? (Forcing himself to speak normally) I mean, you were? (FELICITY discreetly jabs him in the ribs). Oaf.

BERT: (Taken aback) What did you just call me?

RANDALL: N-nothing sir. Just a bit of indigestion from my break—um-I mean, my breakfast. (He feigns another belch) Oh dear, pardon me.

BERT: Yes, quite.

FELICTY: Dad—(Just then, a phone alongside the bar rings, RADIGAN picks it up.) Oh, I wonder who that could be, ringing us up on a Saturday afternoon?

RADIGAN: This is the Clarke residence. (Pause) One moment please, sir, I shall ask if Colonel Clarke is available to speak to you. (He walks from behind the bar, bringing the phone with him.) It’s your business partner sir. I’m afraid he’s insisting that he speak to you right away. Says it’s rather urgent. Would you like to take it here, or in your study?

BERT: I’ll take it here. (He sits at the table, as RADIGAN places the phone on it, and walks back to the bar.) Felicity, why don’t you show your friend..um…what’s his name—

RANDALL: Randall, sir.

BERT: Um—yes. Why don’t you show Randall there the rose bed, while I take care of this business. I promise I shan’t be long.

FELICITY: Of course, father. Come along Randall. Do you like roses?

(The two young people drift off upstage, murmuring amongst themselves)

BERT: Yes, what is it? (pause) What! They can’t do that! (He slams his fist against the table. RADIGAN and the two young people both turn and stare at BERT) I own forty-two percent of the stock in that company, and what I say, goes, am I making myself clear? (Pause) What do you mean I have no choice? (pause) To hell with the board, and to hell with the stockholders! This deal was going to make us a fortune, why are they backing off now? (Pause) It’s taken me weeks to set this up, who told the board that it was too risky? (Brief pause) YOU told them! How dare you go behind my back like that! I thought you were all for the deal? (Pause) They’re giving you control of the company? They can’t do that! You ratty little double-dealer, I’ve sunk twenty thousand into this deal, that’s twenty thousand dollars, down the pan.—hello? Hello! (Jigglies the receive button) Hello! ,

(He gets up and begins pacing agitatedly)

FELICITY: (turning to him) Is everything alright, daddy?

BERT: (Turns and gives her a look. He’s seething.) No love, everything is most definitely not alright. Your father has just had twenty grand go down the loo. Everything is very much not alright, I’m afraid. (He walks over to the bar) Scotch, Radigan. Make it a double…no ice.

RADIGAN: (Cautiously standing well back from BERT) Yes sir. (pours the drink and hands it to BERT.) Here you are sir.

BERT: (Downs the drink in one go, hands the glass to RADIGAN for a re-fill) Well, the food is burnt and I’ve just lost a lot of money. But, at least nothing else can go wrong today. (RADIGAN looks pointedly at the young couple).

RADIGAN (dryly) Let us hope not, sir.

(After RADIGAN pours him another drink, BERT walks away and paces, angrily)

BERT: I can’t just sit here and take it. I must take action. I must plan for a defensive strike. After ten years of partnership, he goes behind my back and stabs me! I’m going to kill him! Where’s my ax?

(RANDALL jumps when he hears this, and stars at BERT in wide-eyed terror.)

I feel like chopping down something. (He turns and faces the audience) I’m sick at looking at that rotten old willow tree out there next to the fish pond. I’ve been after Harry for a month to chop it down. Well, by God if Harry won’t do it, I will! I’ve got the urge to kill something, and I won’t be denied!