The Mousetrap

LADYANGKATELL. I think it’s so clever of you, darling—doing all these odd abstract things.

HENRIETTA. I thought you didn’t like them, Lucy.

LADYANGKATELL. No, I’ve always thought them rather silly. But I think it’s so clever of you to know they’re not.

(GERDA enters hurriedly Left. She looks alarmed.)

GERDA. I heard shots—quite near the house.

LADYANGKATELL. Nothing, darling—Henry—target practice—they’ve got targets in what used to be the bowling alley.

HENRIETTA. (Rising) Come and have a try, Gerda.

GERDA. Is it difficult? (She crosses toHENRIETTA.)

HENRIETTA. No, of course not. You just close your eyes and press the trigger and the bullet goes somewhere.

(Two SHOTS are heard off Right. HENRIETTA and GERDA exit Right. A SHOT is heard off Right. LADY ANGKATELL rises, crosses to the coffee table, puts the newspaper on it, and picks up the vase and odd leaves. Two SHOTS are heard off Right. LADY ANGKATELL crosses to the wastepaper basket, drops the leaves in it, then moves to the drinks table and puts the vase on it. Two SHOTS are heard off Right. JOHN enters up Centre from Right. He is smoking a cigarette.)

JOHN. Has the war started?

LADYANGKATELL. Yes, dear—no, dear. Henry. Target practice.

JOHN. He’s very keen. I remember.

LADYANGKATELL. Why don’t you join them?

JOHN. (Crossing to the fireplace) I ought to write some letters. (He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray on the mantelpiece.) I wonder if you’d mind if I wrote them in here?

LADYANGKATELL. (Easing above the sofa) Of course. You’ll find stamps in the little drawer. If you put the letters on the hall table, Gudgeon will see that they go.

JOHN. This is the best run house in England.

LADYANGKATELL. Bless you, darling. Now let me see—(She looks around) where did I lay my eggs? Ah, there, by the chair. (She picks up the basket of eggs and moves to the door Left.)

JOHN. I didn’t quite understand what you meant.

(LADY ANGKATELL exits Left. JOHN crosses to the writing table, and takes a note from his pocket. He reads it, then crumples it and throws it into the wastepaper basket. He sits, sighs heavily and starts to write. VERONICA enters up Centre from Left. She carries a large, very flamboyant, red suède handbag.)

VERONICA. (Standing at the French window up Centre; imperiously) John.

JOHN. (Turning; startled) Veronica. (He rises.)

VERONICA. (Moving down Centre) I sent you a note asking you to come over at once. Didn’t you get it?

JOHN. (Pleasantly, but with reserve) Yes, I got it.

VERONICA. Well, why didn’t you come? I’ve been waiting.

JOHN. I’m afraid it wasn’t convenient for me to come over this morning.

VERONICA. (Crossing to Left ofJOHN) Can I have a cigarette, please?

JOHN. Yes, of course. (He offers her a cigarette from his case.)

(Before he can give her a light, VERONICA takes her own lighter from her handbag and lights the cigarette herself.)

VERONICA. I sent for you because we’ve got to talk. We’ve got to make arrangements. For our future, I mean.

JOHN. Have we a future?

VERONICA. Of course we’ve got a future. We’ve wasted ten years. There’s no need to waste any more time. (She sits on the sofa, Centre of it, and puts her handbag on the Right end of the sofa.)

JOHN. (Easing to Right of the sofa) I’m sorry, Veronica. I’m afraid you’ve got this worked out the wrong way. I’ve—enjoyed meeting you again very much, but you know we don’t really belong together—we’re worlds apart.