Etiquette and Vitriol by Nicky Silver (classic fiction .txt) 📗

and equine genitalia?

PHILIP: I DO NOT REMEMBER HIM!

CLAIRE: Oh well. He killed himself anyway.

PHILIP: What?

CLAIRE: So I couldn’t’ve invited him even if I’d had a party to welcome you home. Or I could’ve invited him, but he wouldn’t have come. Let me look at you. You look well. A little pale, perhaps. And thin, and you have black rings under your eyes. But then I like that in a man. Who doesn’t? You do, don’t you Amy?

AMY: He looks like death.

CLAIRE: You didn’t address the question so you get ignored again.

AMY: I’ll drink.

PHILIP: I have some news.

CLAIRE: Still, I could’ve invited little Arthur Dewmerry. You do remember him?

PHILIP: Of course not.

CLAIRE: Think back. All stamina, with no finesse?

PHILIP: No, Mother.

CLAIRE: Donny LaFette! Raven tresses and a premature ejaculator?

PHILIP: I said I had some news.

CLAIRE: Oh you did, didn’t you. Please forgive me. I’m adrift in memories of your lost youth.

AMY (Slightly drunk): After a while Scotch tastes like pudding.

PHILIP: I’ve met someone.

CLAIRE: That’s good dear. Bound to happen when you leave the house.

PHILIP: I mean, I’ve met someone. That’s the same thing, isn’t it? I mean, I’ve met someone.

CLAIRE: Repeating the same phrase, over and over again, is not elucidating.

PHILIP: I mean, I’ve met someone!

AMY: Oh God.

CLAIRE: I know! I’ll ask yes or no questions to fill in the narrative gaps!

PHILIP: I’ve met a girl.

CLAIRE: Oooo, I didn’t ask that yet. Living or dead?

PHILIP: Her name is Vivian.

CLAIRE: Oh, you’re not playing at all.

PHILIP: A beautiful girl. A wonderful girl. The answer to my prayers.

CLAIRE: Imagine.

PHILIP: We’re engaged to be married.

CLAIRE: What!?

PHILIP: I mean, we’re engaged to be married.

AMY: She said, “What?” That time I heard her.

CLAIRE: Isn’t this wonderful! Now I’ll have to plan a party! We’ll have seafood salad and eight different kinds of pâté— I adore pâté! This is too, too marvelous! Tell me all about her! I want to know everything—skip the ugly parts— where did you meet her? Is she British? I adore the British! I love their manners. I love their crooked rotting teeth and their receding chins!

PHILIP: Actually, no. She was raised just around the corner.

CLAIRE: From here?! Right here? Isn’t that a coinkidink? Don’t you think so, Amy?

AMY: What? Oh yes, sure, whatever.

CLAIRE: You had to go halfway around the world to meet someone from around the corner! Why it’s just like that song— whatever it’s called. Who cares really? I’ve always hated that song. You know the one I mean. That Italian girl sings it—what’s her name? Judy Garland’s daughter—have you seen her lately? I don’t understand her hairdo at all—But isn’t this something! At long last, I’ll have a daughter!

(Amy takes a swig from her bottle.)

I’ll have to invite all your old school chums to your party! The living at any rate. There’s been a rash of suicides among your peers. Who can explain it? Not I! But I’m so happy for you!—By the way, where is your luggage? Oh you young people lead such rag-tag lives—I feel like celebrating! I feel like renting a piano, just so I can sit on top of it and mouth the words to Bea Lillie recordings! Do you think that’s extravagant? I don’t care! I’m thrilled for you! I don’t mind telling you, I was beginning to think you were a tad socially retarded, but now!! I’m beside myself! I wish I could take you out tonight for a steak bernaise and some pâté, but I’m committed to taking Tony to the Met—

PHILIP: Tony?

CLAIRE: I know! You’ll join us!

PHILIP: But, Mother—

CLAIRE: I won’t discuss it. You’re coming along!

PHILIP: But, Mother, Vivian is here.

CLAIRE: What? What? Where? (She looks under the furniture) Vivian? Vivian? Where is she? Is she tiny?

PHILIP: I mean, she’s here.

CLAIRE: Your new verbal tick is grating.

PHILIP: She’s in the hallway. I brought her here to meet you.

CLAIRE: What? She’s been out there all this time? Why didn’t you say something?

PHILIP: I did. I mean, I did.

CLAIRE: Look at me. I’m not dressed! I can’t meet anyone like this. I look a fright.

PHILIP: It doesn’t matter. She won’t notice. She’s not concerned with vanity.

CLAIRE: We can’t leave her loitering in the hallway. What must she think of us? She’ll think we’ve no manners at all. I feel just awful. Bring her, Philip.

PHILIP: VVVVVIIIIVVVIIIIAAAANNNNN!!!!!

CLAIRE: I could’ve done that dear.

PHILIP: Sorry.

CLAIRE: This is so exciting! I’m a-tingle—AMY!! STAND UP STRAIGHT!! And should you succumb to a fit of DTs, excuse yourself, and I’ll explain you’re epileptic.

(Claire turns her back, pinches her cheeks to raise color and adjusts her hair. Vivian enters, wearing glasses and a shroud.)

VIVIAN: Yes, Philip?

PHILIP: Come here.

VIVIAN: Yes Philip.

PHILIP: I’d like you to meet my mother.

VIVIAN (Extending her hand): It’s a pleasure.

(Claire turns and is stricken by the severe sight of Vivian. She recovers at once.)

CLAIRE: She’s sweet! You’re sweet. She’s sweet, Philip!

VIVIAN: I’ve heard so much about you.

CLAIRE: Then you’ve the advantage, as I’ve only just heard your name.

VIVIAN: You have a lovely home.

CLAIRE: But you’ve only seen the hallway.

VIVIAN: It’s a lovely hallway.

CLAIRE: Is it?

VIVIAN: The wallpaper has a print of tiny pineapples.

CLAIRE: I never noticed that . . . I adore your hair. Does it hurt?

VIVIAN: No—

AMY: Excuse me! I’m another person in the room.

PHILIP: Oh yes. Vivian, that’s my—

CLAIRE: That’s Amy. She’s soused.

VIVIAN: It’s nice to—

CLAIRE (Crossing to the bar): Now Vivian, I’ll fix you a drink while you tell me all about yourself, in short, information-packed sentences, as I must fix my hair and change my clothes. We’re all going out tonight, you’re included, of course, to celebrate your engagement—AMY! You’ve finished all the liquor.—Oh no. Here’s something.

VIVIAN: What would you like to know?

CLAIRE: Oh I don’t care. What do you do?

VIVIAN: What do you mean?

CLAIRE: What do I mean?

VIVIAN: What do I do?

CLAIRE: That was it!

VIVIAN: For a living?

PHILIP (Scolding): Mother.

CLAIRE: Hush dear. Drink quietly. I’m getting to know Vivian.

VIVIAN (Taking her drink): Thank you. Well. I’ve been working in London’s West End. In an occult bookstore.

CLAIRE: Is that your vocation?

VIVIAN: I used to