Tea and Sympathy (3 page)

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

I can't believe that.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Then take my word for it.

 

 

 

 

TOM
(After a moment, looking into the fire, pretending to be casual, but
actually touching on his love for LAURA)

 

 

Did you ever do any of Shaw's plays?

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Yes.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

We got an assignment to read any Shaw play we wanted. I picked
Candida
.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Because it was the shortest?

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Laughs)

 

 

No . . . because it sounded like the one I'd like the best, one I could
understand. Did you ever play Candida?

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

In stock -- a very small stock company, way up in Northern Vermont.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

Do you think she did right to send Marchbanks away?

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Well, Shaw made it seem right. Don't you think?

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Really talking about himself)

 

 

That Marchbanks sure sounded off a lot. I could never sound off like that,
even if I loved a woman the way he did. She could have made him seem
awfully small if she'd wanted to.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Well, I guess she wasn't that kind of woman. Now stand up. Let's see if
this fits.

 

 

(She rises with dress in her hands.)

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Gets up)

 

 

My Dad's going to hit the roof when he hears I'm playing another girl.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

I think you're a good sport not to mind. Besides, it's a good part.
Lady Teazle in
The School For Scandal
.

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Puts on top of dress)

 

 

It all started when I did Lady Macbeth last year. You weren't here yet
for that. Lucky you.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

I hear it was very good.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

You should have read a letter I got from my father. They printed a picture
o{ me in the
Alumni Bulletin
, in costume. He was plenty peeved about it.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

He shouldn't have been.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

He wrote me saying he might be up here today on Alumni Fund business.
If he comes over here, and you see him, don't tell him about this.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

I won't . . . What about your mother? Did she come up for the play?

 

 

(She helps him button the dress.)

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

I don't see my mother. Didn't you know?

 

 

(He starts to roll up pants legs.)

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Why no. I didn't.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

She and my father are divorced.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

I'm sorry.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

You needn't be.
They
aren't. I was supposed to hold them together.
That was how I happened to come into the world. I didn't work. That's
a terrible thing, you know, to make a flop of the first job you've got
in life.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Don't you ever see her?

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

Not since I was five. I was with her till five, and then my father took
me away. All I remember about my mother is that she was always telling me
to go outside and bounce a ball.

 

 

 

 

LAURA
(Handing him skirt of the d?ess)

 

 

You must have done something before Lady Macbeth. When did you play that
character named Grace?

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Stiffens)

 

 

I never played anyone called Grace.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

But I hear the boys sometimes calling you Grace. I thought . . .
(She notices that he's uncomfortable)
I'm sorry. Have I said something terrible?

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

No.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

But I have. I'm sorry.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

It's all right. But it's a long story. Last year over at the movies, they
did a revival of Grace Moore in
One Night of Love
. I'd seen the revival
before the picture came. And I guess I oversold it, or something. But she
was wonderful! . . . Anyway, some of the guys started calling me Grace.
It was my own fault, I guess.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Nicknames can be terrible. I remember at one time I was called "Beany." I
can't remember why, now, but I remember it made me mad.

 

 

(She adjusts the dress a little)

 

 

Hold still a moment. We'll have to let this out around here.

 

 

(She indicates the bosom)

 

 

What size do you want to be?

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

(He is embarrassed, but rather nicely, not obviously and farcically. In
his embarrassment he looks at LAURA's bosom, then quickly away)

 

 

I don't know. Whatever you think.

 

 

 

 

LAURA
(She indicates he is to stand on a small wooden footstool)

 

 

I should think you would have invited some girl up to see you act,
and then take her to the dance.

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Gets on stool)

 

 

There's nobody I could ask.

 

 

 

 

LAURA
(Working on hem of dress)

 

 

What do you mean?

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

I don't know any girls, really.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Oh, certainly back home . . .

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

Last ten years I haven't been home, I mean really home. Summers my
father packs me off to camps, and the rest of the time I've been at
boarding schools.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

What about Christmas vacation, and Easter?

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

My father gets a raft of tickets to plays and concerts, and sends me
and my aunt.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

I see.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

So I mean it when I say I don't know any girls.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Your roommate, Al, knows a lot of girls. Why not ask him to fix you up
with a blind date?

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

I don't know . . . I can't even dance. I'm telling you this so you won't
expect anything of me Saturday night.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

We'll sit out and talk.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

Okay.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Or I could teach you how to dance. It's quite simple.

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Flustered)

 

 

You?

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Why not?

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

I mean, isn't a person supposed to go to some sort of dancing class
or something?

 

 

(He gets down from footstool.)

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Not necessarily. Look, I'll show you how simple it is.

 

 

(She assumes the dancing position)

 

 

Hold your left hand out this way, and put your right hand around my --

 

 

(She stops, as she sees him looking at her)

 

 

Oh, now you're kidding me. A boy your age and you don't know how to dance.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

I'm not kidding you.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Well, then, come on. I had to teach my husband. Put your arm around me.

 

 

(She raises her arms.)

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Looks at her a moment, afraid to touch this woman he loves.
Then to pass it off)

 

 

We better put it off. We'd look kind of silly, both of us in skirts.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

All right. Take it off, then. No, wait a minute. Just let me stand off
and take a look . . .

 

 

(She walks around him)

 

 

You're going to make a very lovely girl.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

Thank you, ma'am . . .

 

 

(He kids a curtsy, like a girl, and starts out of his costume.
MR. HARRIS, a good-looking young master, comes in the hallway and starts
up to Tom's room. On the landing, he knocks on Tom's door.)

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

I wonder who that is?

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

All the other fellows have late afternoon classes.

 

 

 

 

LAURA
(Opens the door wider, and looks up the stairs)

 

 

Yes? Oh, David.

 

 

 

 

HARRIS
(Turns and looks down the stairs)

 

 

Oh, hello, Laura.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

I just was wondering who was coming in.

 

 

(TOM proceeds to get out of the costume.)

 

 

 

 

HARRIS

 

 

I want to see Tom Lee.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

He's down here. I'm making his costume for the play.

 

 

 

 

HARRIS

 

 

I wonder if I could see him for a moment?

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Why yes, of course. Tom, Mr. Harris would like to see you. Do you want
to use our study, David? I can go into the living room.

 

 

 

 

HARRIS

 

 

No, thanks. I'll wait for him in his room. Will you ask him to come up?

 

 

(He opens the door and goes in.)

 

 

 

 

LAURA
(Is puzzled at his intensity, the urgency in his voice. Comes back in
the study)

 

 

Tom, Mr. Harris would like to see you in your room. He's gone along.

 

 

 

 

TOM

 

 

That's funny.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

Wait a minute . . . take this up with you, try it on in front of your
mirror . . . see if you can move in it . . .

 

 

(She hands him skirt of costume)

 

 

When Mr. Harris is through, bring the costume back.

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Anxious over what HARRIs wants to see him about)

 

 

Yeah, sure.

 

 

(He starts out, then stops and picks up a cookie. He looks at her lovingly)

 

 

Thanks for tea.

 

 

 

 

LAURA

 

 

You're welcome.

 

 

(TOM goes to the door as HARRIS turns to the desk. He stands in the door
a moment and looks at her back, then he turns and shuts the door and
heads upstairs. HARRIS has come into TOM's bedroom, and is standing
there nervously clenching and unclenching his hands.)

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Off stage, presumably in the study he shares with his roommate)

 

 

Mr. Harris?

 

 

(LAURA wanders off into the other part of the house after looking for
a moment at the Canada vacation material on the desk.)

 

 

 

 

HARRIS

 

 

I'm in here.

 

 

 

 

TOM
(Comes in a little hesitantly)