Том Стоппард: The Dissolution of Dominic Boot

A Play for Radio

Characters

DOMINIC

VIVIAN

TAXI DRIVER

SHEPTON

MOTHER

FATHER

GIRL CLERK

MAN CLERK

MISS BLIGH

CARTWRIGHT

Fade in street — traffic.

VIVIAN: Well, thanks for the lunch — oh golly, it’s raining.

DOMINIC: Better run for it.

VIVIAN: Don’t be silly.

(Up) Hey, taxi!

DOMINIC: I say, Viv.

VIVIAN: Come on, you can drop me off.

(To driver) Just round the corner, Derby Street Library.

(They get in — taxi drives)

DOMINIC: Look, Vivian, I haven’t got.

VIVIAN: Dash it — that’s taken about ten shillings out of my two-guinea hairdo — honestly, I’m furious. Don’t you ever have an umbrella?

DOMINIC: Not when it’s raining.

VIVIAN: Didn’t I give you one for your birthday?

DOMINIC: No, it was your birthday.

VIVIAN: Why did I give it to you on my birthday?

DOMINIC: No, it was I who gave it to you on my birthday. Your birthday. Vivian, please stop talking about umbrellas. The thing is.

VIVIAN: If we’re going out tonight, I’ll have to have some repairs on my hair, it’s beginning to straggle. Another pound down the drain.

DOMINIC: I’m afraid I can’t tonight, Vivian, I promised to see my mother.

VIVIAN: What about?

DOMINIC: Um, about my father.

VIVIAN: What about him?

DOMINIC: Nothing. Just keeping her in touch.

VIVIAN: You never see your father.

DOMINIC: Well, we just sort of — talk about him.

VIVIAN: I thought you may be seeing her about us getting married.

DOMINIC: Oh, no.

VIVIAN: What do you mean by that?

DOMINIC: I mean, yes.

VIVIAN: Will we have enough by Christmas, or Spring at the latest? After all, you’ve been saving now for months.

DOMINIC: Incidentally, Vivian.

VIVIAN: Oh, no! It’s half-past two — Dominic, we’ll have to start eating some-where with quicker service. Anyway, I’m fed up with Italian. I don’t know why we always go to Marcello’s, do you?

DOMINIC: No. Only.

VIVIAN: (Up) Just there, next lamppost on the right.

(Down) By the way, you’re on the black list — you’ve had those six books overdue for weeks — what do you do with them?

(Up) Thank you.

(Down) Well, I’ll see you tonight.

(Opens door)

DOMINIC: I told you.

VIVIAN: Oh yes — tomorrow then, I’ll see you in Marcello’s. Goodbye darling. Oh no, not Marcello’s. Oh, I don’t know — phone me, will you?

DOMINIC: (Slightly desperate) Vivian—

(She’s gone)

(Thinks:) One and ninepence. Extras sixpence.

(Coin counting:)

Sixpence, shilling, one and a penny, one and two, three, threepence halfpenny. threepence halfpenny.

DRIVER: Waiting till the rain stops?

DOMINIC: No, um, the Metropolitan Bank, Blackfriars, please.

Cut. Bank.

DOMINIC: In ones, please.

GIRL CLERK: Oh, Mr Boot, would you mind stepping down to the end of the counter there.

DOMINIC: What for? Oh ah, righto. (Humming)

(Walking.)

Hello, Mr Honeydew.

SHEPTON: I’m Mr Shepton.

DOMINIC: Oh really. I thought you were the manager.

SHEPTON: The manager is Mr Bartlett.

DOMINIC: Oh yes, I’m always getting it wrong.

SHEPTON: Well. yes, well, Mr Bartlett has asked me.

DOMINIC: Over the top, am I?

SHEPTON: You’re forty-three pounds beyond your limit, Mr Boot. I’m afraid that we have had to pass back two cheques received today from ah Mar s ello’s er Mar k ello’s.

DOMINIC: Mar ch ello’s, Mr Sheppard.

SHEPTON: Shepton.

Cut. Taxi moving.

DOMINIC: (Thinks:) Three and three. three and six.

DRIVER: The Irish Widows’ International Bank — is that on the left here?

DOMINIC: No, other side. Thanks.

(Thinks:) Three and six, plus six, four bob.

Cut. Bank.

DOMINIC: In ones, please.

CLERK: Oh, good afternoon, Mr Boot. Would you have a word with Mr Honeydew?

Cut. DOMINIC slamming taxi door.

DOMINIC: Co-operative Wool and Synthetic Trust Bank in High Street, Ken, please.

DRIVER: You a bank robber, are you?

DOMINIC: In a modest way. Please hurry, I’ve got to cash a cheque before they close.

(Taxi starts moving.)

Cut to traffic.

DRIVER: I did my best.

DOMINIC: Dammit.

DRIVER: Six and nine.

DOMINIC: Ah, would you mind taking a cheque?

Cut. A door is flung open.

MISS BLIGH: (Very remote, quite detached) Good afternoon, Mr Boot. Mr Cartwright has been asking.

DOMINIC: In a minute — can you lend me ten bob — I’ve got a taxi.

MISS BLIGH: Oh Mr Boot, what a pity you didn’t come earlier. I’ve just spent it all on stamps — five pounds’ worth, Mr Boot.

DOMINIC: Hang on.

(Out door — cross pavement)

I say, do you take stamps?

DRIVER: Yes, if you like. Green Stamps, are they?

DOMINIC: All colours. I mean they’re stamps. I don’t know what colour they are. Stamps!

DRIVER: Do you mean like for letters?

DOMINIC: That’s right, and parcels. Stamps.

DRIVER: Do me a favour.

(Back across pavement through door.)

DOMINIC: No good.

MISS BLIGH: Oh, what isn’t, Mr Boot? Oh, you’re terribly wet, is it raining?

( DOMINIC through another door.)

DOMINIC: I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr Cartwright.

CARTWRIGHT: I’ve been waiting forty-five minutes to trouble you, Mr Boot. Now look here, I’m going out for the rest of the afternoon, but I want to pick up the Lexington figures to take home, so please have them ready by six. Well, look to it.

DOMINIC: Mr Cartwright — could you lend me ten shillings.

Cut to taxi moving.

DRIVER: Nice area. What number are you?

DOMINIC: Forty-eight. On the left.

DRIVER: You use taxis a lot, don’t you?

DOMINIC: Yes, hardly ever. I mean no, I do.

(Thinks:) Fourteen shillings. and six.

(Taxi pulls up)

Thanks, I’ll be out in a minute.

DOMINIC: (Panting, muttering) Fourteen and six, fourteen and six. property of the North Thames Gas Board. oh well. where’s that poker. wardrobe, wardrobe — ah! — North Thames, here goes, uh.