JAN So. You’d rather see me go?
MARTHA As I just said, we had second thoughts. Since it all depends on me, I might as well tell you that I’m still not sure exactly how I feel.
JAN Well, I’ll do whatever you like. I’ve no wish to be a burden to you, but I must say that it would be extremely convenient for me to be able to stay here for one or two days. I’ve some things I’d like to see sorted out before I move on, and I had hoped to find the peace and quiet I was after in your care.
MARTHA I can quite understand that, believe me, and if you like I’ll think about it again.
(Pause. She takes a few steps towards the door, and then stops.)
Are you going back there? To Africa? JAN I may do.
MARTHA It’s a very beautiful country. Isn’t it?
JAN (looking through the window) Yes. Very beautiful.
MARTHA They say that in that part or the world the beaches are deserted.
JAN Yes. They are. There’s no trace of man anywhere. Just the criss-cross patterns stretching out along the sand early in the morning where the sea-gulls have left their mark. The only signs of life. And as for the evenings… (He breaks off.) MARTHA (quietly) Yes? The evenings?
JAN They take your breath away. It’s a very beautiful country. MARTHA (a new note in her voice) I’ve often dreamed about it. Travellers have told me a bit, and I’ve read what I could. But all I can do is dream. Springtime in this country is as mean as the winter. When I think of the open sea and all those flowers… (Pause, then with feeling) What fills my imagination makes me blind to everything.
(He looks at her with increasing interest, and sits down quietly in front of her.)
JAN I can see how you feel. Where I come from springtime takes you by the throat. Flowers spread open by the thousand in the white glare of shining walls. If you walk for an hour in the hills that surround the town you bring back with you, caught in your clothes, the sweet scent of honey that drifts from countless yellow roses.
(Martha sits down in turn.)
MARTHA I can hardly believe that. What we call the spring is one small rose and two buds that struggle for the light in a garden by the monastery. (Contemptuously.) And that’s quite enough for the people of this country. Their hearts are as tightly closed as those two buds. They’d choke on a stronger scent. They deserve what they get. The spring is mean, and so are they.
JAN Is that really fair? You’ve forgotten the autumn. MARTHA Have I?
JAN Yes. It’s almost a second spring, with all the leaves like flowers. (His eyes have never left her face.) Human beings change, too, if you’re willing to be patient. If you care for them a bit.
MARTHA But why should I care? This Europe of autumns like springs, and springs that smell of misery, has exhausted all my patience. My imagination craves another scene. A land where the summer sun falls on you and crushes you, where the winter rains stream across the towns, and where everything is just as it should be.
(Silence. He is fascinated. She notices, and gets up sharply.) MARTHA Why are you looking at me like that?
JAN I’m sorry. No offence. I’d forgotten our agreement. But you can hardly blame me. It’s been a pleasure to hear you talking in a way I understand. It’s a lot more human, if I may say so.
MARTHA (in a violent outburst) Well, that’s where you’re wrong! The human side of me is not my better part. You wouldn’t be so pleased if I had shown you that. The only thing I share with the rest of he human race is my determination to get what I want. To shatter and destroy absolutely anything that stands in my way.
JAN (smiling) That kind of violence is something I can understand. It never has frightened me. And I can’t see why it should.
After all, there’s nothing to suggest that I shall prove to be an obstacle as far as you’re concerned. What could be my motive for standing in your way?
MARTHA You don’t need a motive. It would be quite enough if you had no good reason to help me. In certain circumstances, that can be decisive.
JAN Who told you that? That I had no reason to help you.
MARTHA Common sense, as usual. And my firm intention to keep all my plans completely to myself. To keep them private.
JAN I think we’ve come full circle. We seem to be back inside the terms of our agreement.
MARTHA Yes, we are, and it was a great mistake ever to leave them in the first place. That much must be obvious. But I’m very much obliged to you for all the information. It’s been a pleasure to speak to an authority, and I can only hope that you’ll forgive me if I’ve been guilty of wasting your time.
(She has reached the door.)
But perhaps it’s only right for me to say that from my point of view it hasn’t been a waste of time. Not by any means. In fact, our conversation could be said to have awoken certain feelings in me that were up to now in some real danger of remaining permanently dormant. So if you had, as you say, set your heart on staying here, I can now reassure you that you have obtained your objective, perhaps without knowing it. When I came up to this room, I had almost made up my mind to ask you to leave. But as you can see, your appeal to my ‘humanity’ has been remarkably successful. I now find that I’m very keen for you to stay. My taste for the sea, and a land where the sun shines, has gained the upper hand.
(He looks at her for a moment in silence.)
JAN I find your choice of words very strange. But I shall stay, if I may, and if your mother has no objection.
MARTHA My mother’s feelings are not as strong as mine, as you might expect. She won’t have the same reasons for wanting you to stay. The sea? Deserted beaches? They mean nothing to her. She won’t feel the need for your presence in the way that I do. But at the same time, she won’t oppose me. There’s no reason why she should. So the question is settled.
JAN So, if I’ve got it right, the one wants me to stay out of self-interest, and the other doesn’t mind because she doesn’t care?
MARTHA Who could ask for more, in a hotel? (She opens the door.) JAN Well, I suppose I should be pleased. Delighted, in fact. But you must forgive me if I say that I find it all very strange. Strange people, strange terms, and a very strange way of talking. Not the kind of things to make you feel at home.
MARTHA Perhaps not. I But what can you expect, when you insist on behaving in such a strange way yourself?
Scene two
JAN (gazing at the closed door) Perhaps after all… (He moves across the room, and sits down on the bed.) But all she’s done is make me want to leave. What am I doing here? It’s all so stupid. I’d be happy with Maria. But on the other hand… she is my sister and she is my concern. And so is my mother. They’ve been out of my mind for much too long. (He gets up.) Yes. It’s this room that holds all the answers.
But why is it so cold? So very cold. Nothing looks the same. It’s all been changed. Nothing to distinguish it from any other hotel room in any other town where a traveller might pass the night a long way from home. That all sounds familiar. So what was I doing here, in those small rooms? Looking for an answer! And I perhaps I’ll find it here. So there is some hope. (He looks out of the window.) The sky’s getting dark. And as you might have known, the pain is on its way. Taking hold slowly, throbbing like a wound that every movement agitates and that never seems to heal, come what may. But you can’t hide from fear. There’s no escape from the fear of being alone. It lives on inside us from the moment we are born. And what would happen if we ever discovered that there was no answer? It would turn into terror. But who could give an answer, in a room like this, in some small hotel?
(He walks over to the bell-button, stops, and then presses it. It makes no sound. Silence. Then footsteps, and a knock. The door opens, and the Old Man can be seen standing in the door-way, motionless and silent.)
Nothing. I’m sorry. I just wanted to know if the bell was working. If anyone would answer.
(The Old Man looks at him, and then shuts the door. The footsteps die away.)
Scene three
JAN So, the bell works. But he says nothing. Not much of an answer.
(Two taps at the door. The sister comes in with a tray.)
Scene four
JAN What’s that?
MARTHA The tea that you asked for. JAN I didn’t ask for anything.
MARTHA Oh. There must have been some misunderstanding. The old man. He sometimes gets things wrong. (She puts the tray on the table. Jan makes a movement with his hand.) Shall I take it away?
JAN No, no. On the contrary,
