Dead Souls And Mrs Morrys. (1) DEAD SOULS AND MRS MORRYS A PLAY BY T.J.COLLETT. CHARACTERS: MRS ROSE MORRYS.AGED 43YRS MR MORRIS MORRYS. AGED 45YR LAMBERT LOUYS (Deceased) CAMELIA LYSP (Deceased) MRS CONSTANCE LYE. AGED 29YRS. MR LYNDON SMYTH. AGED 32YRS. Deceased characters are only visible to Mrs Morrys. LOCATION: HOUSE IN SEASIDE TOWN. TIME: 1963. Act One. Scene One. A semi-dark room. A round wooden table centre lower stage with four wooden chairs all round it. Lower stage right a window with dark-blue curtains drawn back. Upper stage left a door leading to passageway. Lower stage facing the auditorium a large window looking out to the sea only visible to actors. After a minute, the door upper stage opens and Morris Morrys enters carrying a heavy green tablecloth and a crystal ball. He is wearing old flannel trousers, a white open-necked shirt and an old waistcoat. He is a thin tall man with thinning hair. He walks slowly downstage to the table. He stops and looks at the table. He puts the tablecloth and crystal ball on the table and wipes his hands on his trousers. He then pulls out all the chairs from the table and places the crystal ball on one of the chairs. He puts the cloth over the table and fusses about the length of it all the way around it. He then places the crystal ball in the centre of the table. He stands back and stares at the table. He takes a measuring tape out of his trouser pocket and measures how central the crystal ball is from the edge of the table all around. After a few moments when he is satisfied it is central, he stands back looking at it. He then replaces the chairs around the table again measuring the chairs and the distance between them. Once he is happy about it, he stands back and puts away his measuring tape. Then he sits at one of the chairs and puts his hands over the crystal ball. Morris: Is there anybody there? (Pause.)Is there anybody there? (Pause.)If there�s anybody there, speak up or forever hold your peace. What a load of bunkum, twaddle and hogwash. (Pause. Sits back and folds his arms.)I�m waiting. Waiting patiently. Waiting, waiting. Sitting here with my arms folded waiting. (Pause.)Hell-o! Is there anybody out there? Mother? Are you out there? (Pause.)Mrs Cryspin are you out there? (Pause.)God forbid she is. What a load of rubbish this is. What a waste of time. (Door upper stage opens and Rose Morrys enters the room and closes the door softly behind her.)Is there anybody there? Rose: Yes, Morris, me. What are you doing at the table? Morris: Nothing, dear. Just putting things neat and tidy in preparation for your first client. Rose: Were you talking to yourself, Morris or have you discovered hidden talents of medium ship? (Walks downstage to the table.) Morris: Just testing the room for acoustics, dear. Rose: And? Morris: And, what? Rose: And how is it? Morris: How is what? Rose: The acoustics. (Stands looking down at Morris.) Morris: Oh, yes, fine. Brilliant. Absolutely spot on. Rose: Good. (Pause. Stares at Morris. Morris rises and places the chair back carefully.) Morris: Are the spirits keen today? Rose: Keen? Morris: Eager to speak. Enthusiastic about you waking them from their slumbers to answer questions from tiresome relatives. Rose: I am not a telephone switchboard operator, Morris. I act as a medium between the two worlds. The spirit world and this one. If the spirits wish to speak through me they will if they don�t then they won�t. Simple as that. (Looks at Morris as he stands there gaping at her.)Well, have you checked all the equipment? Is it working all right? Is everything in working order? Morris: Yes. (Sighs.)Hidden microphone is ready. Tape recorder with tapping and eerie noises is ready. Flashing lights are ready to turn on from the switch in the other room etc etc etc. (Sighs.)Why all this, if you can contact the bloody spirits in the first place? Or are they on strike? Or can�t you contact them at all? Are you really just a fraud out to make money? Rose: I have the apparatus just to be on the safe side. If a client wishes to contact a lost relative and the spirit is being awkward I can at least give them some hope and comfort by using the equipment. Morris: That�s fraudulent and deceitful. Rose: It�s being protective and considerate to clients in distress. Would you have me tell them that their loved one is not talking today because they�re in a sour mood about the division of their will or they�re enjoying themselves too much in the spirit world to bother talking to those they left behind? Morris: Honesty is the best policy. Rose: Honesty is cruelty at the best of times. One must be prepared to stretch the truth a little. To consider the feelings of the bereaved. To keep up the good name of Morrys Medium ship Enterprise. To keep a roof over our heads. To pay our way. To keep you in the custom you think you deserve. Morris: Oh, don�t bring me into it. I have a problem sleeping at night now. All this deception is getting me down. My once clear conscience is now dark and murky like pond water. Rose: Morris you�re being childish now. You have to be sensible about these things. One doesn�t live forever. One has to make one�s way the best way one can. (Morris walks to the edge of the stage and looks out at the distant sea.)The divide between the two worlds is like a thin piece of cloth in one way and like a huge chasm on the other. One must be honest with oneself, Morris, if with no one else. (Morris stands staring out with his hands in his pockets. Rose sits down at the table and gazes at the crystal ball.) Hunting Deer will help me when he can. He�s always there if I�m having difficulties with a client. Morris: The mist on the water is thinning. Rose: Hunting Deer has helped me before when I�ve become stuck. He helped me when Mrs Dimplick wanted to contact her husband and her husband�s spirit was uncooperative. Hunting Deer made suggestions. Morris: The sun�s still too weak to make an entrance. Rose: Mind you, they weren�t the sort of suggestions I could have placed to Mrs Dimplick, but none the less, it�s the thought that counts. Morris: The beach looks emptier than your mother�s head. Rose: I�m sure all will be well today. It�s Mr Lyndon Smyth first. He wishes to make contact with his late mother. Morris: More fool him. Best left alone. Never stir up a wasp�s nest if you can help it. (Pause.)Lyndon Smy�thththth. Son of the late Mrs Maggie Smy�ththth. Rose: Morris are you feeling all right? Morris: Yes, dear, just trying out my new teeth. Rose: Well off you go, I need to be alone with myself for a while to contact my spirit friends and Hunting Deer. (Morris sighs and reluctantly goes off upstage in a solemn mood. He shuts the door with a soft thud. Rose closes her eyes. Silence.) End of Scene One. Act One. Scene Two. Half an hour later. Same room. Room empty. After a minute two figures appear from upper stage. Lambert Louys and Camellia Lysp both dead souls are only seen and heard by Rose and the audience and each other. Lambert is wearing a 1940s grey suit and is dark haired and youthful-looking. His accent is American. He is the dead soul of a 1940s G.I. Camelia Lysp is blonde, slim and clothed in a red dress of the 1940s. She is the dead soul of an English woman of the same time as Lambert. Both walk slowly down stage until they come to the table. Here they stop and look around. Lambert: Here we are again. The old place doesn�t appear to have changed much, Honey. Camelia: Even the wallpaper seems the same. And the curtains are familiar. Lambert: Nice to be back after twenty-odd years. Remember when we used to dance in this room? Camelia: Yes. We had that old gramophone with your Glenn Miller records playing to all hours. Lambert: Sure was fun. (Pause.)You fancy a little dance now, Camey? A little fox trot? Camelia: You know I�ve not danced for so long I�m not sure I know how. Lambert: Sure you do. Once learnt never forgotten. It�s like riding a bike. Camelia: I�m not sure I could ride a bicycle, now. Lambert: Nothing to it. You just let your legs do the dancing. Nothing to it, I tell you. (Music begins. Glenn Miller�s In the mood. Both of them hold hands and begin dancing around the room to the music. They are engrossed in the dancing as the door opens and Rose enters with Lyndon Smyth. Rose frowns and looks about her but doesn�t at the moment see or hear anything, but something is disturbing her senses. Lyndon is unaware of anything out of the ordinary. They go to the table. The other two are still dancing.) Rose: Take a chair Mr Smyth, and relax. Lyndon: Thank you, Mrs Morrys. (They both sit down. Rose in the chair on the left and Lyndon the chair on the right.) A friend gave me your name. Rose: Oh, I see. (Looks around the room as if unsure of her surroundings.)Can you hear anything, Mr Smyth? Lyndon: Call me Lyndon, please. Mr Smyth sounds so formal. (He listens, but hears nothing. Rose frowns and stares around the room. Lambert and Camelia still dance around the room enjoying themselves. The music softens and after a few moments fades.)I hear nothing, Mrs Morrys. Not a sound. Rose: I�m sure I heard something. (Lambert and Camelia stop near the table and look at the couple at the table.) Lyndon: What did you hear? Camelia: Who are they? Rose: Music. I thought I heard music. Lambert: That�s Rose Morrys. The local medium. Lyndon: Music? Why would you hear music? Camelia: Not the Rose Morrys? Rose: I�ve no idea why I should hear music. Most unusual. Lambert: Yes, the very same. Lyndon: Well, I can�t hear music. Nothing in fact except us talking. Camelia: Not very good at it is she if she can�t see or hear us. Lambert: She�s not trying. If she focussed her energies she would, I�m sure. Rose: I�m sure I heard it. Dance music. Lyndon: Dance music? Lambert: The dame�s caught hold of something though. Says she heard the music. Camelia: But not seen us obviously. We�re standing here and she can�t see us. (Camelia waves her hand in front of Rose, but gets no response.)Blind as the proverbial bat. Rose: There. I heard a voice. Lyndon: A voice? It was me. I just spoke. Rose: No, not you. A different voice. A woman�s voice. Lyndon: Is it my Mother trying to get through to me? Lambert: You aren�t this guy�s mother are you, Camelia? Camelia: No, perish the thought. Anyway, I never had chance to have children. Being killed in my sister�s bombed out house rather left me out of the running for that sort of thing. Rose: No, no. I�ve not summoned anyone yet. Strange. Really strange. Lambert: She�s sensing us. Her sixth sense is waking up. She�s warming up slowly. Camelia: Can she see us? Lambert: Not yet. But I dare say she will soon. Rose: Quiet! Lyndon: I�ve not said a word. Rose: Not you. Others. (Rose looks around the room.)We�re not alone. Lyndon: Others? Not alone? (Lyndon looks around him nervously.)What others? Lambert: Who is this guy? Camelia: Obviously a pestering relative looking to for his mummy. Rose: There it is again. Lyndon: What? (Stands up and moves away from the table.)More voices? Rose: Sit down, Mr Smyth. You�re making me nervous. Lyndon: Me make you nervous? I�m petrified. (Lyndon clutches hold of the back of the chair.)Perhaps this wasn�t a good idea after all. Mother wasn�t one for being disturbed when she was asleep. She�d get in the most awful mood if she were disturbed. Father would tiptoe round her rather than wake her. Rose: It�s not your mother, Mr Smyth. It�s someone else. Lyndon: Someone else? Who? I didn�t come to talk to anyone else. Lambert: Not a very friendly guy is he? Camelia: Bit of a mummy�s boy obviously. Rose: Hush Mr Smyth! I�m trying to focus my senses. Lyndon: I do apologise, Mrs Morrys, but I came here to speak with my mother and not be told to hush by the very medium who was supposed to help me contact my mother. Rose: I can�t focus if you keep on talking, Mr Smyth. Camelia: The poor dear. Lambert: The dame�s trying to sense us. Camelia: Not trying hard enough, then, is she. Rose: There! Again a woman�s voice. Lyndon: Are you sure, it�s not my mother? Camelia: Shall I pretend to be his mother, Lambert? Put the poor boy out of his misery? Lambert (Laughs.)That would be a laugh, Camey, but I�m not sure she�d be impressed. Not our Rose Morrys. Camelia: But it would be fun, Lambert. I�ve not had fun for years and years. Lambert: Well, I guess it can�t do any harm. Sure, have go, Camey. See what happens. (Rose frowns. Then closes her eyes.) Lyndon :( Speaks to the room loudly.) Is it you, Mother? Are you there? Rose: Will you, hush! (Opens her eyes and stares at Lyndon.) Lyndon: I won�t hush if my mother is trying to contact me. I want to contact my mother. Rose: Then, please, Mr Smyth, let me concentrate. (All is quiet. Rose closes her eyes again. Lyndon sits down in his chair again softly. Lambert walks to the window and stares out. Camelia stands by Rose and sighs.)I hear nothing, now. Camelia: Hello. Rose :( Sits up but still has her eyes closed.)Is there anyone there? Camelia: Hello, Rose. Rose: Is there anybody out there? Camelia: Listen, Rose. That young man is trying to contact me. Rose: I hear a voice. Lyndon: Who? Is it Mother? Rose: Hush. Who are you? Camelia: I�m Mrs Smyth. Rose: Who? Camelia: Mrs Smyth. Rose: Mrs Smyth? Lyndon: Mother? Camelia: Yes, Mrs Smyth. (Camelia puts her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from giggling.) Is my son, Lyndon there? Rose: Yes, he is. Lyndon: Mother? Camelia: Can you ask him why he came? (Camelia struggling not to giggle.) Rose: Why he came? Lyndon: It is Mother. Mother? Can you hear me, Mother? Rose: Hush, Mr Smyth! (Rose opens her eyes and glares at Lyndon. Lyndon Looks away.)I need silence or I won�t hear what your mother is trying to say. Lyndon: Mother never has problems making people hear what she has to say. Rose: But I need silence. (Rose sighs and closes her eyes.)Now. Mrs Smyth. What was it you wanted to ask me? Camelia: Why did my son come to contact me? Rose: Why? Camelia: Yes. Why did he come to make contact with me? Rose :( Talking to Lyndon. Opens her eyes and looks at him with a frown.)Why did you come? Lyndon: You know why I came. To make contact with my mother. Rose: Yes, but why? Lyndon: Why what? Rose: Make contact with her. Why did you want to? Lyndon: Because she�s my mother. Camelia: Oh, dear. If I were his mother, I�d disappear to the far regions of the Spirit World. Rose: Sorry? Lyndon: Because she�s my dearest mother and I wanted to ask her about a number of things. Rose: Not you, Mr Smyth, her. Lyndon: Who? Her? Rose: Your mother. She asked me a question and I�ve missed what she said. Lyndon: What did she say? Rose How do I know if you will keep on interrupting me? Lyndon: Sorry, Mrs Morrys. I just get so anxious. Camelia: Oh, no, not an anxious son. God protect us from anxious sons. Lambert: Camey, dear, best not to bring God into this, he may not appreciate what you�re doing. Camelia: Habit of speech. Can�t forget my old ways. Rose: Your old ways are troubling her. Lyndon: My old ways? What old ways? (Lyndon sits up nervously.)I haven�t any old ways. I have never had old ways. Rose: Well, that�s what she said. Camelia: What does my son want with me? Rose: He hasn�t said. Camelia: Well, ask him again. Rose: What did you want? Lyndon: What do you mean what do I want? I want to contact my mother. Rose: I know what you want, but why do you want to contact her? Lyndon: Haven�t we been down this avenue before? I told you why. Rose: Why? Lyndon: Because she�s my dear mother and I want to ask her a few questions. Rose :( Speaks to Camelia.) Because you�re his mother and he wants to ask you some questions. Camelia: I see. What questions? (Tries not to giggle.) Rose: What questions? Lyndon: Whom are you talking to Mother or me? Rose: You. You, Mr Smyth. Lyndon: Oh, I see. Well. Well you see, Mother, since your sad departure Father and I have not quite seen eye to eye over your tombstone engraving. Rose: Tombstone engraving? Camelia: Oh, God. Lambert: Camey. Remember what I said about using God�s name too lightly. His angels keep on telling you about it. Camelia: Sorry, I forgot. Rose: Forgot, what? Lyndon: Tombstone engraving. Camelia: This is too much. Rose: She says it�s too much. Lyndon: What�s too much? Rose :( Speaks to Camelia.) What�s too much? Camelia: I�m not sure this is a good idea after all, Lambert. It�s getting a bit confusing. Rose: Your Mother says it�s getting a bit confusing. Lyndon: What�s a bit confusing? Mother what is confusing? Camelia: Lambert I need a bit of fresh air. Lambert: All right, Honey. Let�s go off for an hour or so. How about Hyde Park? Not been there since 1942. Camelia: Oh, yes. Hyde Park. Here we come. (Both Lambert and Camelia walk upstage and disappear.) Rose: Hyde Park? Lyndon: No. Not Hyde Park. St.Peter�s Cemetery. Rose: She mentioned Hyde Park. Lyndon: Why did she mention Hyde Park? Rose: I don�t know. (Rose sniffs the air and opens her eyes.)She�s gone. Lyndon: Already? She�s only just come. Rose: Well, she's gone now. Lyndon: Why? Rose: She didn�t say goodbye. Just went. Lyndon: That�s not like Mother. Mother always said goodbye. No matter what mood she was in, she would always say goodbye. Rose: Well, she's gone and hasn�t said goodbye. Lyndon: Oh, dear. I hope she�s not upset. Mother can be easily upset. Rose: Best try another time, Mr Smyth. We�ll make another appointment. Lyndon: All right. However, I hope we�re more successful next time. Rose: I�m sure we will, Mr Smyth. These things happen when contacting the Spirit world. Sometimes the line is a bit unclear. Lyndon: Until next time, then. Rose: Yes. Next Wednesday? Same time? Lyndon: Fine. Hope Mother comes through. Rose: I�m sure she will. They usually do. (Rose and Lyndon rise and go upstage to the door and go out.) End of Scene Two. Act One. Scene Three. Early afternoon. Same room. After a minute Lambert and Camelia enter upper stage. They wander downstage to the table and chairs. Lambert pulls out a chair and sits on it. Lambert: Hyde Park is not what it was. Camelia: The grass is not so green. Lambert: And so many people were wearing such ridiculous clothes. Camelia: The colours were bright though. Lovely bright colours with such short skirts. Lambert :( Says this softly.)Yes, such short skirts. Lovely legs. Shame I�m dead. Camelia: And what about the men dressed as they were? Lambert: Such are the times, Honey such are the times. (Pause. Looks at the crystal ball.)She doesn�t actually use this thing does she? Camellia: Oh, I expect she does. These types are forever using these. Lambert (Puts his hands over the crystal ball.)I see a tall dark stranger. Camelia: Do you really? Lambert: Sure. He�s seven feet tall, has the colour of coal, and is forever singing: Mammy, Mammy I�d walk a million miles for one of your smiles my mammy. Camelia: How droll. You nearly had me smiling, then. Lambert: This Rose. What�s she up to? Camelia: Up to? Lambert: Yes, what�s her angle? Camelia: Angle? Angle? Lambert: Sure, what�s she after? Camelia: She�s a medium isn�t she? Lambert: Not a good one that�s for sure. Camelia: She doesn�t try hard enough. If she were to focus, she�d be quite good I should imagine. Lambert: We�ll see just how good she is. Camelia: What are you up to? Lambert: Just a little joke. Just a little test. Camelia: Oh, Lambert, we�re supposed to be passed all that. Have to think of higher things. Lambert: Plenty of time for higher things, Honey. These mediums are beyond me. Why fake things? Why pretend you can talk to the dead when you can�t? Camelia: Perhaps she can, but she�s too lazy to try hard enough. (Pause. Morris enters through the door followed by a young woman with light brown hair and a figure that is slim and the eyes the colour of blue ice. They wander downstage to the table and chairs. Lambert and Camelia look around at them. Lambert rises from the chair and walks with Camelia to the window.) Morris: Who moved this chair? (He places the chair back tidily and dusts the chair with his handkerchief. Once this is done, he measures the chair with his tape measure.)I can�t bear sloppiness. My wife is liable to be a little sloppy. Constance: Really? Morris: Oh, not concerning her medium ship. There is stricter than a demented headmaster with a toothache. Constance: Headmaster? Morris: Figure of speech, my dear, figure of speech. Constance: Who�s speech? Morris: My wife�s. Constance I�m confused. Morris: So is she at times. Constance: I have come to the right place haven�t I? Rose Morrys? Morris: The very one. Rose Morrys best medium in the South. No contact too small, no palm reading too large. She�s the wonder of the age. Constance: I want to contact my late fianc�. He died you know. Suddenly. Morris: Rose will make contact. She�s an old hand at it. She can make contact with any spirit of the other world. Constance: I miss him you see. He and I were due to marry. It was all too sudden. Morris: I am sorry. Constance: Will you wife we long? Morris: She�ll be here anytime now. Just getting herself ready. Constance: Is she in a trance? Morris: No, the loo, she has a funny tummy. Constance: Oh, I see. But she�ll be all right to contact Reggie? Morris: Oh, yes, no doubt. She�ll contact old Reggie before you can say mother�s drawers are on the line. Constance: Who�s mother? Morris: Mine probably. (Smiles weakly.) Or someone or other. (Laughs nervously.) Constance (Stern faced.) Is your mother here? Morris: No, thank God, she�s with Lucifer giving him hell no doubt. (Constance looks at Morris with a sense of unease. Morris stands by the table fiddling with his waistcoat.)Look, I�ll see where she is. You take a seat. (Morris walks upstage and out of the door. Constance sits down and looks around the room.) Lambert: What a pretty dame. I could lose my heart to her if I had one to lose. And those legs. That face. Those eyes. Why did I have to die on D-Day? Camelia: You�re supposed to reach a higher level after death. Such worldly thoughts will only drag you downwards. Lambert: I�ve an eternity to think of higher things. Right now, I�m focussing on those legs and those eyes. (They both move towards the table.)If I could touch her hand, I�d be the happiest soul dead. Camelia: Your guardian angel almost despairs over you. She told me you�d give her grey feathers. Constance: I do hope she won�t be long. Lambert: The angel speaks. Camelia: Your angel is a saint. Lambert: If only I could hold that hand. Smell that hair. Feel her closeness. Constance: I wish I could speak to Reggie myself. I hate relying on other people to do things for me. Why can�t we all be mediums? Camelia: If you hadn�t died such a martyr�s death, you�d be elsewhere now. Lambert: Can you sense her vulnerability? Camelia: I see only a young woman who wishes to disturb her fianc�s soul from his peace and quiet. Lambert: You�re jealous. You see only competition and a good-looking dame causing a stir in me. Camelia: Some things never change. I thought you�d be different after death, but you�re still the same as you were when alive. Have you learnt nothing being a dead soul? Lambert: Yes, Honey, I have. No booze, no dames and all the choirs of angels you can want from dawn to dusk. If there were such things as dawn and dusk where we are. Camelia: Oh, poor you. Lambert: Poor me, that�s right. Honey. All my mental facilities intact but no physical ones to match. Camelia: What�s to moan about? You have no worries, fears, hungers, thirsts, or strong desires. Lambert: Speak for yourself, Camey, I have plenty of desires unfulfilled and screaming out for satisfaction. Camellia: You want too much. Death is a great liberator. Lambert: Death stinks. Camellia: Hush. (Puts her finger to his lips.)Not so loud. You don�t want to be reincarnated do you? Lambert: Sure, as long as it's not as a woman or a mouse. Camelia: I thought you�d got used to being a dead soul? Lambert: Everyone has his or her bad days. This is mine. (Constance rises when she hears the door upper stage open and Rose enters humming Brahms�s lullaby. She stops and looks around. Constance stands by the table staring at Rose. Lambert moves next to Constance and sniffs the air. Camelia goes back to the window and looks out. Silence. Stage fades into darkness.) End of Scene Three. Act One. Scene Four. Five minutes later. Rose and Constance are sitting at the table. Camelia and Lambert are by the window. Rose: And you want to contact your fianc�? Constance: Yes. My dear Reggie. Rose: When did he pass over? Constance: Pass over? He didn�t pass over, he died. Rose: Yes my dear Miss Lye, it�s the same thing. We in the medium world refer to dying as passing over. Constance: Oh, I see. Pass over means to die? Rose: Yes, passing over to the spirit world. Constance: And that is where my Reggie is? Rose: Oh yes, I�m sure he is. One of the ascended ones. Constance: Ascended ones? Is that good or bad? Rose: Oh, good, my dear. Really good. Constance: He was a good man, was my Reggie. The life and soul of the party. Lambert: The dead and soul of the party, now, no doubt. Rose: Who�s that? (Looks around the room.)Is there anybody there? Constance: Only me. Rose: No not you. I heard a voice. (Stares around her slowly.) Constance: Was it my Reggie? Rose: Could have been. Lambert: Reggie who? No Reggie here. Can you see a Reggie, Camelia? Rose: There it is again. Camelia: No. Perhaps he ascended too high for Rose to contact. Lambert: What fun. Rose: Fun? Constance: Fun? Is my Reggie having fun? Camelia: That depends. Lambert: Hello, Rose. Rose :( Looks around her, screwing up her eyes.)Are you Reggie? Constance: Reggie? Are you here Reggie? Lambert: Oh, yes, Reggie here dead and soul of the party. Camelia :( Whispers.) Don�t Lambert. Rose: I can hear you, but can�t see you. Lambert: You�re not trying hard enough, Rose. Rose: He says he�s trying hard. Constance Trying hard to do what? (Looks intensely at Rose.) Rose: Hello? Reggie? Lambert: Hello, I�m still here. Rose: Trying hard to do what? Lambert: Me, trying hard to do what? Rose: Yes. What? Camelia: Lambert you�re being naughty now, stop it before someone gets hurt. Rose: Who�s that? Another voice. A woman�s voice.
Copyright © 2005 Terry Collett |