Separate Tables (The Rattigan Collection) by Terence Rattigan

Author:Terence Rattigan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Nick Hern Books
Published: 2014-10-09T07:00:00+00:00

Scene Three

Scene: the dining-room, the following morning. MISS MEACHAM sits at her table, poring over the sporting page of a morning paper. The two undergraduates are at their table reading. The other tables have been occupied, except for the table by the window, and ANNE’s. MISS COOPER comes in from the lounge.

MISS COOPER (talking into the lounge). Yes, Mrs. Railton-Bell, I promise I will.

The murmur of MRS. RAILTON-BELL’s voice can be heard off.

Yes, utterly disgraceful, I quite agree. I shall speak to him most severely.

She closes the door with a faint sigh.

(Brightly, to the two undergraduates.) Good morning, Miss Tanner. Good morning, Mr. Stratton.

They reply with a polite murmur and plunge back into their books.

Good morning, Miss Meacham. It looks as if we’re going to have a nice dry day at last.

MISS MEACHAM. Is it going to be dry at Newbury? – that’s the point. Walled Garden’s a dog on heavy going.

MISS COOPER. Ah, now there you have me, Miss Meacham.

MABEL comes in.

MABEL. Miss Cooper, Mr. Malcolm wasn’t in his room when I took his tea up, and his bed hadn’t been slept in.

MISS COOPER (with a reassuring smile). Yes, I know, Mabel.

MABEL. You know?

MISS COOPER. I should have told you, of course, but I’m afraid I clean forgot. He had to go to London unexpectedly last night.

MABEL. He won’t be in to breakfast, then?

MISS COOPER. I don’t suppose so.

The undergraduates go into the lounge.

MABEL. That’s something anyway. It’s nearly ten, now. What about the new lady? She’s not down yet.

MISS COOPER. Yes, she’s down, Mabel, but I don’t think she’s having breakfast.

MABEL. Not having breakfast?

MISS COOPER. She has to be very careful of her figure, you see.

MABEL (with puzzled gloom). Can’t see what good a figure’s going to be to you, when you’re dead of starvation.

She goes into the kitchen.

MISS MEACHAM. She’s leaving, isn’t she, the new one?

MISS COOPER. Yes. She is, how did you know?

MISS MEACHAM. I heard her ask for her bags to be brought down. I knew she’d never stick it.

MISS COOPER (coIdly). Stick it, Miss Meacham?

MISS MEACHAM. Oh, I don’t mean the hotel. Best for the price in Bournemouth. I’ve always said so. I meant the life. All this – (She indicates the empty tables.) – She’s not an ‘alone’ type.

MISS COOPER. Is any type an ‘alone’ type, Miss Meacham?

MISS MEACHAM. Oh yes. They’re rare, of course, but you are for one, I’d say.

MISS COOPER. Am I?

MISS MEACHAM. Oh, I’m not saying you won’t fall in love one day, and get married, or something silly like that. I’m only saying that if you don’t you’ll be all right. You’re self-sufficient.

MISS COOPER (a shade wearily, but polite). I’m glad you think so, Miss Meacham. Perhaps even a little gladder than you realize.

MISS MEACHAM. What do you mean by that?

MISS COOPER. I’ve no idea. I’m a bit tired this morning. I had very little sleep last night.

MISS MEACHAM. Well – I don’t suppose you are glad, really. Probably you haven’t had to face up to it yet.

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