E.M. Forster, the great British novelist and champion of individual liberty and responsibility lived a homosexual life concealed from the public eye. In 1931, at the age of 52, Forster takes as his lover, a young London policeman Bob Buckingham who in turn begins a passionate relationship with a young nurse, May Hockey. Forster, along with his own hidden homosexuality, is forced to face the bisexual preferences of his new lover. How Forster, Bob and May come to terms with their own affections and the sexual nature of their relationship is the fertile dramatic material of A KIND OF MARRIAGE.

EXTRACT OF THE PLAY

Characters in this extract:

MORGAN, 52, professionally known as E.M. Forster, a famous novelist.

BOB, 29, a London policeman.

MAY, 20s, a nurse at Fulham Maternity Hospital, London.

EDNA, 20s, May’s friend and fellow nurse at Fulham Maternity Hospital.

BARMAN at the Fulham Palace Road Pub.

DORA CARRINGTON, late 30s, professionally known as “Carrington,” a painter and decorative artist who lives in a ménage à trois with her husband and the author Lytton Strachey.

***

Scene 4

(From Act One: London. Summer 1931. Morgan’s bedsit flat in Brunswick Square. Mid-day. A small table is set for a simple meal for two. A neatly made double-bed to one side. BOB in his undershirt, trousers and braces, serving up a freshly made omelette on to two plates as MORGAN enters. A gramophone record is playing a Mozart Piano Sonata.)

BOB

I got the afternoon off. Come sit down and tuck in. It’s an onion omelette and I grated some cheese in it. (The gramophone Mozart record finishes playing.) You can open the tinned salmon. (HE hands MORGAN the tin of salmon and a tin opener. MORGAN struggles with the opener, dropping the tin, then the opener.)

MORGAN

Infernal gadgets. It takes a Hercules to operate this thing.

BOB

Give it to me, luv. You have no patience, Morgan. Change the record on the gramophone, will you? (BOB easily opens the tin, serving out the salmon.) Put on some of that Beethoven. The one that goes, “DEE-DEE-DEE–DUM!”

(MORGAN goes to the gramophone, lifting the needle arm off the record.)

MORGAN

Your sergeant Harry Daley was at Joe Ackerley’s this morning.

BOB

Was he then? Harry’s all right. A bit of a show-off, but all right. Tuck in, luv.

(MORGAN takes his place at table with BOB. THEY eat.) 

MORGAN

He was talking rubbish about you. I worry about what he might be saying at the station house.

BOB

I wouldn’t mind much about Harry. He’s a sort of licensed lunatic. That, at least, is the way I take him. Now eat your omelette. I’ve been listening to that Mozart fellow on the gramophone. He uses a lot of notes, doesn’t he?

MORGAN

A lot of notes. Yes. Quite a few.

BOB

Just think of all those notes going round in his head. I guess that’s why he had to write them down.

MORGAN

Writing them down helps.

BOB

To get them out of his head. Otherwise he’d have to be carryin’ them around in his brain all the time. Like I’m trying to memorise these manual regulations for the police sergeant’s examination. I tell you!

MORGAN

You are a dear, Bob. Sometimes I think I enjoy showing you off. Like some sort of trophy. Is that shameful of me?

BOB

You’ve won me, Morgan. Completely. “Notice to All: Constable Buckingham is owned by E.M. Forster. Please do not interfere!”

MORGAN

Please don’t talk about “owning.” It makes me nervous. 

BOB

It’s all right. We don’t have to talk about it.

MORGAN

You are so extraordinarily understanding.

BOB

Not as understanding as May. But you’ll find that out soon for yourself. She’s keen to meet you.

MORGAN

An occasion, the anticipation of which, I do not relish.

BOB

You mean you don’t want to. You could say it right out. You don’t have to say it with the words twisted all ‘round.

MORGAN

I didn’t say I didn’t want to. What I said was that I wasn’t looking forward to it. I have certain trepidations. Fears. About our meeting.

BOB

Fears? Then you should say so, straight out.

MORGAN

In summary, my dear Bob, at present, she is, as you say, “keen” to meet me, but one knows all too well how it will end.

BOB

You might be surprised. You’ll like May. She’s no-nonsense. Don’t go in for make-up and silly clothes. And a nice sense of humour.

MORGAN

Always good for a giggle, is she? 

BOB

She doesn’t hold with all that religion and sentimental woman stuff. A regular chum of a girl, who’s rather nice-looking, too.

MORGAN

I’m not the one to judge about that.

BOB

You will be. You have a bit of egg in your moustache. (HE dabs it away with his napkin.)

MORGAN

Don’t fuss me.

BOB

You want taking care of and I intend to do an awfully good job of it.

MORGAN

As you do. (Pause.) Does she know about us?

BOB

That’s our business. It has nothing to do with May. (HE finishes his meal, gets up, taking his plate to the side.) This place needs a good sweep. (HE takes up a broom from the corner.) Feet up, please.

(MORGAN lifts his feet. BOB sweeps under them.)

MORGAN

Bob, you should know that I don’t intend to give up any of my rights, either to your affections or your time to this woman.

BOB

MAY. Her name is May, and speaking of rights, I’ve something else here. (From his trouser pocket, he takes out a small ring box, opening it). I picked it up in a little pawnshop just off Hammersmith Grove. It’s real gold.

MORGAN

I’m sure May will like it.

BOB

It’s for you! A gentleman’s little ring. Give me your hand. The left one, please. (HE slips the ring on MORGAN’S little finger.) Let this be our pledge, Morgan. We are an “us” now. (HE crooks his own little finger around MORGAN’S ringed finger, holding tight.) Say it. US.

MORGAN

Us.

BOB

We’re together now, nothing else matters. It’s a chance in a million, we’ve found each other, Morgan. I’d do anything for you, even die for you if I had to.

MORGAN

Please don’t say such things. (HE starts to pull his hand away, BOB holds fast.)

BOB

From this moment. In true faithfulness, we are! I want you to wear this ring and never take it off.

(MORGAN twists the little ring uncomfortably on his little finger.)

MORGAN

It will take some getting used to.

BOB

Give us a kiss. (HE takes MORGAN’S face gently in his hands, and kisses him on the lips.) No backing out now, luv. That seals it.

(BOB puts the broom away and undoes his braces, undoing his trousers.) 

BOB (Cont’d)

Now put on that Beethoven and come to bed. It’s time I had my German lesson, Herr Professor. (HE steps out of his trousers and his underpants, getting into bed naked except for his undershirt.) “DEE-DEE-DEE– DUM! DEE-DEE-DEE–DUM!”

(MORGAN goes to the gramophone, taking a record out of sleeve, putting on Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.)

MORGAN

I do believe Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony is the most sublime noise that has ever penetrated into the ear of man. As for your May, I’m sure she shall have all she wants, but I can still deny her my company.

BOB

Sprechen Sie Deutsch, please!

(MORGAN moves to the bed, standing at the side. BOB loosens MORGAN’S tie and collar, unbuttoning his shirt, undoing the belt of his trousers.)

MORGAN

“What is the fare to Berlin?” Was kostet die Fahrt nach Berlin?

BOB

(helping MORGAN undress, repeating)

Was kostet die Fahrt nach Berlin?

MORGAN

“I’d like a room with a double bed.” Ich möchte ein Zimmer mit Doppelbett.

BOB

Ich möchte ein Zimmer mit Doppelbett!

MORGAN

Sehr gut, mein Schüler!

(BOB pulls back the sheet, welcoming MORGAN into bed.)

BOB

Kommen sie hier, Herr Professor.

(MORGAN, still in his undershirt, steps out of his trousers, getting into bed. BOB draws MORGAN to him, kissing him tenderly, as the lights fade.

The Beethoven on the gramophone crossfades to the tinny sound of–

A popular dance band tune plays, Jack Hylton & his Orchestra, “Life Begins At Oxford Circus.”)

Scene 5

(A corner table in a working class-pub in Fulham Palace Road near May’s Fulham Maternity Hospital. Late afternoon. Dirty glass windows and faded lace curtains hung at the windows. MAY sits with her friend EDNA, 20s. Both are dressed in their nursing uniforms.

To one side, a BARMAN stands behind a bar, polishing glasses.)

EDNA

I brought my autograph book. Do you think he’ll mind?

MAY

I’m sure he’s used to it. 

EDNA

I got John Gielgud at the Old Vic last month. Oh, he was lovely! And Gertie Lawrence signed it at the Adelphi stage door for me. I don’t have any famous authors yet.

BARMAN

Excuse me, Ladies? Can I get your anything?

MAY

No thank you. We’re waiting.

EDNA

For the gentlemen.

BARMAN

Ah. The gentlemen. Right. (BARMAN turns brusquely away and exits.)

MAY

Mr. Forster is very accommodating. So I understand.

EDNA

Aren’t you nervous? I mean meeting him for the first time?

MAY

I’m not keen. But it’s important to Robert. That I meet him.

EDNA

It’s so lovely that he’s Robert’s friend. I guess a policeman meets all sorts of famous people in his line of work. Not like us. Nobody famous comes to have their babies at Fulham Maternity.

MAY

Maybe they decided not to come.

EDNA

I’m sure they’ll be here. Your Robert is the reliable sort. Meeting you at the hospital after your shift to walk you home. I wish I could get my Freddie to do that.

(BOB in his constable uniform, his helmet under his arm, enters with MORGAN in a rumpled, ill-fitting suit and an old tweed cap.)

BOB

Here they are. Hullo, Girls!

MORGAN

(Removing his cap, a slight awkward inclination to the ladies)

Good afternoon, Ladies.

(EDNA gets quickly to her feet, tugging at MAY)

EDNA

May! Up!

BOB

May and Edna, this is Mr. Forster. Morgan, this is my friend May and her friend–

EDNA

Edna. EDNA PICKLES. I know it’s a terrible name. But that’s who I am.

MORGAN

I think it is a charming name, Miss Pickles.

MAY

(Offering her hand directly to MORGAN)

Hullo, I’m May Hockey.

(MORGAN takes her hand, awkwardly.)

MORGAN

Yes. May.

EDNA

HOCKEY. And don’t ask her if she plays, ‘cause she don’t!

MORGAN

No.

MAY

I’m a nurse at the Fulham Maternity Hospital around the corner. I’m sure Robert has told you.

MORGAN

Yes. Bob has.

EDNA

We both are. Mothers and babies are our business! (A nervous laugh.) Sorry.

MAY

We’ve only a short time before our shift starts.

BOB

Come sit down, Morgan. What are you drinking, Girls?

MAY

Only ginger beer for me, Robert. We’re on duty at four.

EDNA

Ginger beer for me as well, I suppose. Have they got any pork scratchings? A couple of packets would be lovely.

MAY

For goodness sakes, Edna, but you just had your lunch.

EDNA

But I like pork scratchings.

BOB

You can have whatever you want. Morgan?

MORGAN

Please. Everyone. Have whatever you like.

EDNA

You’re certainly the kind of gentleman I like to spend time with, Mr. Forster! There, I’ve said it! I always say, “Honesty is the best policy.”

MORGAN

I favour reciprocal dishonesty, myself.

EDNA

Oh, my. Whatever can that mean?

MAY

A literary turn of phrase.

BOB

I’ll have a ginger beer, too. Morgan?

MORGAN

Yes, a ginger beer is fine, Bob.

BOB

All right. Ginger beers all around. 

(HE steps away to the bar to order the drinks from the BARMAN.

EDNA calls after BOB.)

EDNA

And a packet of pork scratchings!

(Pause. EDNA, MORGAN, and MAY sit silently at the table, while BOB gets the drinks.)

MAY

I read your novel.

MORGAN

Have you? Which one was that?

MAY

A Passage to India.

MORGAN

I hope you enjoyed it.

MAY

Adela should have told the truth. It would have saved a lot of trouble.

MORGAN

But trouble is the whole point of fiction.

MAY

But not in life.

EDNA

I can’t believe this is happening. Sittin’ right here with a famous author. Wait until I tell Freddie. Oh, before I forget, Mr. Forster, could you sign my book? I’ve never had an author before.

MORGAN

Certainly. Do you have a pen?

EDNA

Just a pencil.

MAY

Here, use mine. (Taking a pen from her uniform pocket, handing it to MORGAN.)

MORGAN

Thank you, Nurse Hockey. 

MAY

May. Just May.

MORGAN

Of course. May. How shall I inscribe it, Miss Pickles?

EDNA

Write, “To Edna, who brings new life into the world.”

MORGAN

Yes. New life. I rather like that. (HE begins to write.) “To Edna, who brings new life—” (completing the inscription in silence)

BOB

Here we are, Everybody. (Returning with four bottles of ginger beer, glasses, and the packet of pork scratchings, setting them on the table.) You’d think this was the Café Royal, the way the barman put his nose up.

EDNA

Have you been to the Café Royal? Golly.

MORGAN

Everyone enjoys Bob’s stories about his work.

MAY

Crime and passion amongst the working classes, is it?

MORGAN

In a way, yes. A window to a very different world.

EDNA

Well, somebody needs to give a good wash to these windows. Not much crime and passion to be seen through this one! I guess I’ve gone a bit literary on you, Mr. Forster. It must be catching!

MORGAN

It’s a very good turn of phrase, Miss Pickles. What’s this? (HE picks up a beer mat, reading it.) “ONLY WORTHINGTON BEST BITTER SERVED HERE.”

MAY

What a pity. When you haven’t got the ‘bob and ask for the BETTER instead.

(MORGAN bursts out in a spontaneous guffaw of laughter.)

MORGAN

HA! YES! Haven’t got the ‘bob, the BETTER BITTER instead! Indeed!

(BOB and EDNA join in the laughter.)

BOB

The BETTER BITTER!

EDNA

Indeed! I’ll have a pint of the BETTER, Mate!

MAY

But it is the “BEST BITTER SERVED,” after all. Good value there. (SHE replaces the beer mat on the table, with a smile to MORGAN, who returns her smile, uncertainly.)

BOB

It’s nice to see everyone getting along.

(A moment’s awkward pause.)

MAY

Robert tells me you’ve asked him on a motoring tour for his holiday week?

MORGAN

Yes. I thought he might enjoy seeing the West Country. 

EDNA

Oh, the West Country! That’ll be lovely.

BOB

I’ve never seen the West Country. Never seen much of the any country, for that matter. When I was a kid, the Council used to herd us all on to a bus and take us up to Hampstead Heath. Potted meat sandwiches. But that was about as much of the country I ever saw.

MORGAN

I’ve bought a car. I need a driver. I don’t drive myself.

MAY

That must be difficult. Having a car. When you don’t drive.

(A pause.)

MORGAN

Difficult. Yes. It’s second-hand. The car.

BOB

An old Essex, a real beauty.

MORGAN

I don’t really know about motors. I’m leaving all that to Robert.

EDNA

A nice motoring holiday. It’s a shame May can’t get away to go with you.

MORGAN

Yes. (Pause.) It is.

MAY

I’m afraid we have to cut this short.

EDNA

Oh, May, don’t be such a wet blanket. You’re not Matron yet. Matron’s always putting the damper on a bit of fun.

MAY

We need to check with Matron about the fresh surgical supplies before the shift starts. And you, Robert, need to get back to the station. It’s nearly Four.

BOB

It’s all right, May. Morgan cleared it with my Sergeant.

MORGAN

I cleared it.

EDNA

We’ve got time, May, I already checked the supply cupboard—(a kick under the table, a look from MAY) Oh, right, we need to check those supplies. (To BOB.) The drinks were lovely, Robert. It’s a shame we didn’t touch the scratchings. No need to waste. (SHE puts the packet of scratchings into her handbag.) I’ll save them for my tea.

MORGAN

Please do, Miss Pickles. No need to waste.

EDNA

It’s been such a pleasure, Mr. Forster.

MORGAN

It’s been mutual, Miss Pickles.

EDNA

I’ve got to get back to the babies. I love my job. I really do. I love babies.

MORGAN

You must, Miss Pickles. Babies are the meaning of everything.

EDNA

Yes, yes, they are, aren’t they? Do you have children, Mr. Forster?

MORGAN

No. I’m not married.

EDNA

Well, if I may say so, you’d be quite a catch.

MAY

Edna, you go on ahead. I need a word with Robert.

EDNA

Yes, Matron! (A little salute.)

MORGAN

I’ll be off then. Drinks are my treat.

EDNA

It’s oh, so good of you, Mr. Forster!

MAY

Yes, so very. But we’d rather pay. (Taking up her handbag.)

BOB

May, put that away! This is Morgan’s treat!

MORGAN

I always say money’s a thing to use, if you’ve got it.

EDNA

Oh, Mr Forster, do walk me back! We can talk about babies.

MORGAN

Yes, babies. Good afternoon, Miss Hockey. It’s been most pleasant meeting Robert’s friends.

MAY

And most pleasant meeting you, Mr. Forster.

BOB

(To MORGAN.)

I’ll be just a moment with May, if that’s all right.

MORGAN

Of course. I’ll see Nurse Pickles to the hospital. BARMAN?

(EDNA links her arm in MORGAN’S as THEY exit.)

EDNA

You really ought to have babies of your own, Mr. Forster. (Exiting.)

BOB

He likes to pay. He really does.

MAY

I can see that.

BOB

I thought that went well. Except for you wanting to pay.

MAY

We mustn’t take advantage, Robert.

BOB

No. We mustn’t. (Pause.) So what do you think?

MAY

He has beautiful hands. It’s always the first thing I notice. But more importantly, I think your Mr. Forster cares very much for you.

BOB

He’s a good person, May. I told you. He knows so much and he’s been everywhere. He wants me to better myself, May.

MAY

I’m sure he does. (Pause.) Do you think there’s room for me?

BOB

Room for you? What do you mean?

MAY

In your friendship.

BOB

I love you, May. You know that.

MAY

And I love you, Robert. You are such a good, good man. Maybe that’s what Mr. Forster sees in you. Just be careful, Robert.

BOB

Careful? Careful of what? Morgan sees the good in everyone.

MAY

Does he? Then I hope he sees the good in me.

BOB

He will, luv. Just give him time.

MAY

“Time’s winged chariot,” Robert.

(BOB leans in and kisses her cheek.)

BOB

You are a wonder, May Hockey. It’s a miracle I found you.

MAY

Little miracles seem to be happening all around. Here we are, two quite ordinary people and we can say the famous E.M. Forster is our friend.

BOB

He is, May. Morgan is the best of people.

(MAY leans in, kissing him.)

BOB (Cont’d)

What was that for?

MAY

Because you are a sweet, loving, believing person.

BOB

And you’re not?

MAY

No, I don’t think I am. Not in the normal way. I think what I believe in most is people–and what they have between them. That seems to be a more reliable belief than a belief in God.

BOB

That’s funny. That’s what Morgan says.

MAY

Does he?

BOB

Maybe you’re more alike than you think.

MAY

Maybe. We shall see.

BOB

Good ol’ May! Do you want to come ‘round the flat after your shift? Morgan’s going back to Surrey to see his Mum.

MAY

I’m on night duty. I’d better be getting back with Edna.

BOB

But you do like him, don’t you, May? It’s important to me. I want you to like him.

MAY

Yes, I like him, Robert. More than I thought I would. More than I wanted to, actually. (SHE gets up to leave.)

BOB

Thursday, then?

MAY

Thursday then. 

(SHE kisses him again and exits.

BOB drinks from his ginger beer, picks up the beer mat, reading aloud.)

BOB

“—Best Bitter, Better Bitter.” HA! (Raising a hand, signaling the BARMAN.) Make it a large whiskey, mate! (The lights fade.)

Scene 6

(Dora Carrington’s painting studio Ham Spray House, Wiltshire. A late summer afternoon. CARRINGTON, late 30s, in paint-dappled man’s shirt, trousers, boyish haircut, stands at a paint easel, painting a portrait of MORGAN. MORGAN sits posed awkwardly in a chair opposite.)

CARRINGTON

You are looking quite the old grump this afternoon. Confess, Morgan. What’s troubling you? 

MORGAN

People are becoming increasingly irritating and exhausting, Carrington. I am losing patience with human beings and their personal relations.

CARRINGTON

A serious handicap for a novelist. Perhaps you should consider a change of profession. You might take up a professorship somewhere. Professors, in my experience, have little interest in human beings or personal relations.

MORGAN

I am not joking.

CARRINGTON

Neither am I. Do sit still, Morgan, and stop fidgeting. And kindly sit up, you look like a sack of potatoes.

MORGAN

I hate posing. Can’t you take a photograph and work from that?

CARRINGTON

NO. I want to capture the “LIFE” in you, Morgan! And stop clutching your left hand like that. You look like a nervous schoolgirl called before the Headmistress.

MORGAN

Please don’t boss me. (HE releases his hand.) Women and their rights have got quite out of hand, Carrington.

CARRINGTON

Have we? How inconvenient.

MORGAN

If women ever wanted to be by themselves all would be well. But I don’t believe they ever want to be. Their instinct is never to let men be by themselves.

CARRINGTON

AH! The Destruction of Club Life! We women will not rest until it is complete. Storm the Athenaeum! Deal me in at Boodles! Whiskey and cigars all around! We want to get in everywhere, Morgan, and we will.

MORGAN

You actually believe that.

CARRINGTON

My dear Morgan, a man can run away from women, turn them out, or give in to them. No fourth course exists. (Pause.) So what’s she like? The girlfriend? Pretty?

MORGAN

No, rather ordinary. Doesn’t wear make-up or lipstick. Very direct in her manner.

CARRINGTON

Ah. Mannish, you mean?

MORGAN

Not at all. A round face. But a softness to it. She looks directly at one. But she does have a rather irritating voice.

CARRINGTON

How so?

MORGAN

It’s not the voice. It’s the manner. Rather too authoritative.

CARRINGTON

Well, you said she was nurse. She’s used to giving orders.

MORGAN

It’s very off-putting. Especially in regards to Bob.

CARRINGTON

Unnerving that, I suppose. Considering the circumstances. Does she know that Policeman Bob is sleeping with you?

MORGAN

No, I don’t think so. Bob would have told me. No, our meeting was all very cordial and civilized, if rather chilly.

CARRINGTON

Well, it is a beginning. It all might sort itself out quite tidily. You, your sweetie, and his nurse friend.

MORGAN

Sort itself out? If you’re implying a ménage à trois arrangement, Carrington, I will have none of your triangular relationship business.

CARRINGTON

It’s quite practical and satisfying, actually. It solves a lot of problems. Ralph loves me, I love Lytton, and Lytton loves Ralph. I want to have sex with Lytton, which doesn’t suit him, but he has sex with Ralph and Ralph has sex with me. So it all balances out, doesn’t it? One must take people as they are, Morgan, and work from there. The only requirement is a fairly large and sturdy bed.

MORGAN

Please, Carrington, spare me the details.

CARRINGTON

Don’t shut your mind to it, Morgan. You might find a way to sort it all out. Triangularly speaking.

MORGAN

I could never be with a woman in that way.

CARRINGTON

Oh, rubbish! With your Policeman Bob to urge you on!

(BOB enters in rolled shirtsleeves, grease-stained, wiping his hands on a greased and oil-stained cloth.)

BOB

The ol’ girl should be humming nicely now. I cleaned up the carburettor and the spark plugs and adjusted the fan belt.

CARRINGTON

Whatever those are. Morgan, why don’t you buy yourself a new car and make Bob your chauffeur, with a smart cap and spiffy uniform, and not have all this motor engine annoyance? You can afford it.

BOB

Oh, no, Ma’am. It’s part of the fun, fixing up and taking care of the old Essex. A new car wouldn’t be nearly as much.

CARRINGTON

Spoken like a born mechanic, Constable.

BOB

I’m sure it’s no problem but, your husband Mr. Carrington and the bearded gentleman are sunbathing naked in the front garden.

CARRINGTON

There is no Mr. Carrington, Bob. You mean, Ralph and Mr. Strachey. And not to worry–the hedgerow is quite high. We will not frighten any bicycling spinsters or holiday motorists.

BOB

Mr. Strachey is lying in your husband’s arms. Awfully private business to be doing in public, don’t you think?

CARRINGTON

Was Mr. Strachey lying beard up or beard down?

BOB

Beard down I think.

CARRINGTON

Then he will have a very burnt bottom tonight. Morgan, your turn.

MORGAN

It’s all right, Bob. Mr. Strachey is a very close friend.

BOB

Oh. Then it’s all right then. Good mates, are they?

CARRINGTON

We are all good mates here at Ham Spray House.

BOB

Miss Carrington, I was wondering–

MORGAN

Just “Carrington,” Bob. She prefers it.

BOB

Sorry. Carrington, you wouldn’t have an extra can of petrol you could spare? I hate for us to be caught short crossing the Downs.

CARRINGTON

I believe there are several cans in the shed. You’re welcome to them.

BOB

Thank you, Ma’am. How’s the picture coming? May I see?

CARRINGTON

Only if you understand it’s not finished.

BOB

All right. (HE looks at the painting.) Oh, very good. I think you’ve got him to the life. One thing, tho’.

CARRINGTON

ONE thing?

BOB

The little gold ring on his left little finger. You missed that. It would be nice to get that in.

CARRINGTON

Oh. Right. Didn’t catch that. Morgan, you were clutching that hand, but now I see it quite clearly. (SHE dabs at the canvas.)

BOB

You’ve got it now, Miss Carrington. I mean–Carrington.

CARRINGTON

Thank you, Buckingham!

BOB

Buckingham? Oh, right! Ha!

MORGAN

When can I see it, Carrington?

CARRINGTON

Not until it’s finished. I don’t ask to read your stories before you’ve finished them, do I?

BOB

Don’t worry, Morgan’s not writing anything now.

MORGAN

No. Not now.

BOB

Let me get the petrol in the tank and clean up a bit, and we’re ready to go, Morgan. Are you ready?

MORGAN

If the sitting is over. 

CARRINGTON

Yes, the muse has moved on. To the pottery wheel! You have a good eye, Policeman Bob.

BOB

Thank you, Ma’am. Give me ten minutes to clean up, Morgan, and I’ll be out in the car. It’s been good meeting you, Carrington–and thanks for the beer. Ten minutes, Morgan. Let me change this shirt. (HE removes his shirt, exiting.)

MORGAN

We are so completely unalike–Bob and I.

CARRINGTON

Ah, but that’s the beauty of it, don’t you see? That you found each other. Policeman Bob is the man for you, Morgan.

MORGAN

You’re not just saying that?

CARRINGTON

Your Policeman is charming and extremely attractive to look at, if I may say so–and quite easy to get on with.

MORGAN

I’m glad you like him. I am so very proud of the lad.

CARRINGTON

As well you should be. He’s lovely and he loves you, Morgan. Anyone can see that. If he wasn’t so gone on you, I might try to steal him.

MORGAN

Is it that obvious?

CARRINGTON

You are a great baby sometimes.

MORGAN

I know it’s not the customary thing. For a young man and a man of my years.

CARRINGTON

I suppose you must find the love of Policeman Bob a bit overwhelming.

MORGAN

It is unsettling. Especially the situation. The woman and all. Love can get so awfully complicated.

CARRINGTON

Welcome to the human race, Morgan. (SHE kisses MORGAN tenderly on the cheek.) Don’t worry, these things have a way of sorting themselves out.

MORGAN

Let me know when the portrait is finished. Or if you want another sitting.

CARRINGTON

(Looking at her canvas.)

No. I think I’ve got you now. As your Bob says, “to the life.”

MORGAN

All right then. Say good-bye to Ralph and Strachey for me. I shan’t disturb their sunbathing. (As MORGAN is about to exit.)

CARRINGTON

If I might say, you ought to screw your courage to the sticking place and live your life as you really want to. Isn’t that what you advocate for your characters in your novels? The courage to live honestly as one wishes?

MORGAN

An easy position to support in fiction, but real life can be an entirely different matter.

CARRINGTON

But not impossible, I dare say, if I am any example. Give it a go, Guv’ner.

MORGAN

I haven’t your moral courage, Carrington, when it comes to these sexual matters. Your public daring, dear girl, has always been a wonder to me.

CARRINGTON

Pushing the boundaries, am I?

MORGAN

Fearlessly, my dear.

CARRINGTON

I’ll take that as a compliment. Talking of the real world, Forster, it is a curious thing, isn’t it?

MORGAN

What is?

CARRINGTON

That more female writers don’t have affairs with female policewomen.

MORGAN

Oh, but they do, Carrington, only not in your section of Wiltshire. You should talk to the Mitford Sisters. (HE exits as CARRINGTON picks up her easel.)

CARRINGTON

Motion carried. Time to throw a few pots. 

(Exits.

MORGAN slips a black mourning band on his coat sleeve as HE crosses to.) 

Scene 7

(Evening, August 1932. A year later. A first-class carriage compartment of the Great Western Main Line, Hungerford to Paddington Station train. MORGAN takes a seat opposite BOB. Sound of a train in transit. THEY sit facing one another, each with a black mourning band on his coat sleeve. The clicking sound of the train wheels on track. PAUSE. Then.)

MORGAN

What time is it?

BOB 

(Checking his wristwatch.)

Eight-Forty-Eight. Do you want me to stay over at the flat tonight?

MORGAN

No. No, not tonight. I’d rather be alone. It’s been a horrible year, Bob. Today has brought it all back. What possible horror could be coming next?

BOB

I always say guns should not be in the hands of the Public. Especially women.

MORGAN

I can’t believe they are both gone. I thought Carrington came through Strachey’s death so well, joking about us all going out on a jolly pheasant shoot together.

BOB

I remember him saying, “If this is dying, I don’t think much of it.” He made me laugh.

MORGAN

He was so cheerful and clear-minded up to the very end. Stomach cancer be damned.

BOB

She must have loved Mr. Strachey very much. I suppose her husband wasn’t enough.

MORGAN

What?

BOB

The gentleman she was married to. Ralph.

MORGAN

No, Ralph wasn’t enough. In the usual way.

BOB

She loved them both, I think. But in very different ways.

MORGAN

Yes. Very different ways.

BOB

I can see that.

MORGAN

The main difference being that she could not go on living without Strachey.

BOB

May says it can happen like that. In hospital. When one person in the marriage dies, the other won’t go on living without them, and dies soon after. Of course, Miss Carrington wasn’t married to Mr. Strachey. She had Ralph. But you can never be sure with the way love works, can you?

MORGAN

(Vaguely, looking out the darkened train window)

No, never sure.

(Pause.)

BOB

It was a funny sort of memorial. Us scattering her ashes under the laurel bush in her garden and that dance band record playin’ on the gramophone, “TOOT-TOOT-TOOTSIE, GOOD-BYE.” She had a sense of humour, Miss Carrington did.

MORGAN

A rare and gifted artist, Bob. The best of all possible women friends. We shall not see her like again. (HE starts to break down, BOB comforts him.)

BOB

Easy now, luv. Easy.

MORGAN

I don’t have the courage to live as bravely as she would have me do. I feel such shame, Bob. I am not the man Carrington believed me to be. I have failed her and now I don’t know how I shall survive her death. I really don’t.

BOB

(Taking MORGAN’S hand.)

There’s love, Morgan. And life. And beautiful babies coming into the world. Like you said, when you met Edna and May, remember last summer? “Babies are the meaning of everything.”

MORGAN

Did I? Well, it must have been in the context of the conversation.

BOB

There’s new life coming, Morgan. May is pregnant.

MORGAN

Pregnant? She’s a nurse, for Godsakes! Doesn’t she know about birth control?

BOB

She’s going to have my baby. I’m going to marry her, Morgan.

MORGAN

You don’t have to marry her. She can go away somewhere and have it quietly. How much money does she want? We’ll give her all the money she wants.

BOB

You talk too much about money. May doesn’t want anything. She doesn’t even want to marry me.

MORGAN

Thank God for that. At least she shows some sense.

BOB

But I want to. I want to marry May and have our baby. I want a family of my own, Morgan. I never had a family. Never had a father to speak of. I want to be a good husband and father and have a family life.

MORGAN

But that’s no reason to throw your life away on this woman.

BOB

I want to be with her, Morgan. May’s a good woman. I want to marry her and make a home for our baby.

MORGAN

I will not discuss this. I have tolerated the presence of this woman in our lives for the past year. But this is the end of it. This is a closed topic. I need a drink. I’m going to the buffet car.

BOB

Sit down, Morgan.

MORGAN

What?

BOB

I love her and I love the child that’s growing inside of her.

MORGAN

And where do I fit into this cozy family picture?

BOB

I want you to love them as I do.

MORGAN

This is madness.

BOB

No, this is love, Morgan. What you taught me. You know I will never love anyone like I love you. Nothing can change that.

MORGAN

And May and her wee bairn?

BOB

They are a part of me now. Can’t you love them with me?

MORGAN

I think what you are asking is outrageous and unnatural.

BOB

I’m sorry you feel that way. It’s already set. We’ve booked a date at the registry office.

MORGAN

At least it’s not a church wedding. That would be a travesty.

BOB

May doesn’t hold with that religion stuff. It’s what she wants–and we want you to witness it. Give me your hand. 

MORGAN

What for?

(BOB takes MORGAN’S hand and wraps his own left little finger around MORGAN’S ringed left little finger.)

BOB

We are bound for life, Morgan.

MORGAN

But I certainly hope NOT for the wedding night.

(BOB bursts out laughing, and MORGAN in spite of himself, laughs.)

BOB

Will you try? Say you’ll try.

(MORGAN takes BOB’S hand in his kissing it, pressing it to his cheek.)

MORGAN

Oh, my boy, my precious boy. Yes, I’ll try. I will try.

(BOB put his hand gently to MORGAN’S head, smoothing his hair.)

BOB

Shhh, shhh, luv. My Morgan. 

(HE kisses the top of MORGAN’S head.

The lights fade.

A recording of Lohengrin’s Wedding March is heard as–)

END OF EXTRACT.