The conversion of Sadie Pintail

A One-Act Play for the Theatre by L. J. Hyde

Characters

Mr Joss:
Manager of the Armageddon Supermarket
Mary Lavender:
Shop assistant at the Armageddon
Sadie Pintail:
Shop assistant at the Armageddon
Marjorie Lust:
Customer
Private Lust:
Customer
Armageddon Supermarket at opening time. Three display units: Food Fare, War Front, Counter Culture, above which hang three posters:

FOOD FARE

Jams

Carrots

Meat

Butter Beans

Treacle

WAR FRONT

Jackboots

Iron Crosses

Armour

Bayonets

Tank Spares

Hand Grenades

CULTURE COUNTER - BOOKS

Poetry From The Floor

The Complete Kipling

Confessions Of A Stumper

The Topless Ten Ride Again

Now and Zen

The rest of the shop is a profusion of posters advertising mainly War Front merchandise. Suggested titles are:

DIY MOLOTOVS.

SMALL (ARMS) IS BEAUTIFUL.

PLEASE ADJUST YOUR SIGHTS BEFORE LEAVING TO THE RANGE.

A solitary poster in another colour states: COMPANY POET AT YOUR SERVICE.
[Enter Mary Lavender, small, smart. She wears a combat jacket, pushes a trolley of goods towards the War Front display unit. On top of the goods is draped a dress uniform. She marches as she pushes].
MARY LAVENDER [with evangelical fervour].
Left - left - left - right - left. Lavender - halt! A -tease! [Topples over. Cross with herself] Again Lavender. Lavender - at ease! Lavender - un-load!
[She fills the shelves with goods, placing Iron Crosses and cutlasses in bins marked 'cutlasses' and 'Iron crosses', adding to them pennants which state 'Special Offer'. She bustles through the operation with enthusiasm. When she comes to the dress uniform her mood changes to one of ecstasy. She lifts it lovingly, caresses it, unfolds it, holds it against herself, dances to the front of the stage. In ecstasy]. A uniform! [Hugs it voluptuously, eyes closed] Mm.... [Kisses it]. The dress of war. [She sighs]. I've always fancies myself in war dress. I tried to join up - but my arches let me down... and what THEY called MY DIMENSIONS. [Snorts, stands on tiptoe]. I'm tall sometimes. I told them I was a woman of spirit. 'In the wrong size bottle,' they said. [She snorts. She places the dress uniform on a coat hanger, stands back to admire it]. The uniform of Her Majesty's Hussars. [She salutes it. She turns to face a Union Jack hanging from the display unit]. The flag. [She salutes it]. The blood fair zips at the thought [excitedly].
[Enter Mr Joss, a jovial young executive. 'Manager' is printed on the back of his white overalls. He stands with his back to the audience admiring the scene, smiling at Mary Lavender who has returned to filling shelves].
MR JOSS [booming].
How's the war going?
MARY LAVENDER [jumping].
Mr Joss.... You did give me a start. [He laughs]. You caught me dreaming - about soldiers [dreamily] - what else? SO SELFLESS, SO NOBLE! Aren't they?
[Mr Joss smiles patronisingly].
MARY LAVENDER.
Have you noticed OUR soldier, our daily shopper? He's a cook. Got a chef's hat in his basket; I've peeped. Comes in - 'bout now, gets his groceries, never says a word, just looks around. Smart... very smart. He'll be a General one day; got the look. [Dreamily] I can see him on some exotic beachhead, stirring his regimental soup, shells swishing over his tall white hat.
MR JOSS.
Whatever you say, Miss Lavender. But we must not dream TOO much, must we? Not in selling time. One dreams when one is NOT being paid, that is the rule.
MARY LAVENDER.
They said that, I remember, on Salisbury Plain, at the training school. Not to dream - that's what they said.
MR JOSS.
How right I was.
MARY LAVENDER [dreamily].
Isn't it odd - don't you think? - Peacetime is such a selfish time; but war [she sighs], war parades our finest hours.
MR JOSS.
Please, Miss Lavender. Please be careful what you say. Have misgivings - if you must have misgivings - but please, please, please keep them quiet.
MARY LAVENDER.
Yes sir.
MR JOSS.
War is all very well, but it ought not to be advocated.
MARY LAVENDER.
Yes sir.
MR JOSS [pats her].
Good Girl. [Cheerfully] Well, here we are... start of week three [booming] OF OUR GREAT EXPERIMENT IN SELLING. [Raising his eyes heavenward] FOOD, WAR, CULTURE - UNDER ONE ROOF.
MARY LAVENDER.
You said that at the interview... those very words.
MR JOSS [proudly].
Indeed. I invented them.
MARY LAVENDER.
And YOU chose ME... to sell under ONE ROOF.
MR JOSS [churchy voice].
Under one roof we shall achieve - an infinity of sales.
MARY LAVENDER [carried away].
Amen. And it's going to be... so easy. There's SO MUCH. The yard's CRAMMED: howitzers, mortars, armoured cars. Where's there a shop got a missile range?
MR JOSS [smug].
Where's there a shop got a practice minefield? [Laughs].
MARY LAVENDER.
You've done very well Mr Joss.
MR JOSS [shaking his head].
Not me - Procurement.... They have achieved a miracle - as if they had access to the War Office.
MARY LAVENDER.
Indeed. 'Nuff to start a world war.
MR JOSS.
Hardly our concern. We sell; we do not bother ourselves with consequences.
MARY LAVENDER.
And sell we shall. What a job I've been given!
MR JOSS.
Not given... you were selected - from hundreds.
MARY LAVENDER.
I'm truly grateful.
MR JOSS.
Really no need. You chose yourself. Convinced us all with your passion for war. You for war, Miss Pintail for peace - what a team you would make. Brilliantly balanced. WAR and PEACE in tandem.
MARY LAVENDER.
Cycling to success!
MR JOSS.
Quite. [Consults watch, glares at the Culture Counter]. Miss Pintail is not at her counter. [Booms] Where is Miss Pintail?
MARY LAVENDER.
You can't blame Sade for being late. She's more than just SALES: COMPANY POET! She'll be up in her room combing through her rhyming dictionary. 'S a real job finding rhymes. There's not much rhymes with some of the stuff in this store. Take treacle. What rhymes with treacle?
MR JOSS.
Er... er... Ezekiel
MARY LAVENDER [laughing].
Ezekiel!
MR JOSS [stuffily].
Rhymes are not my province. Mine is TIME. TIME Miss Lavender... the punctual sort!
MARY LAVENDER [sweetly, coyly].
I haven't told you my news, have I?
MR JOSS [booming].
Do speak up. First rule of selling - speak UP... PUP... PUP... PUP....
MARY LAVENDER [speaking up].
I have resolved to be naughty.... [Mr Joss looks lost]. I propose to take my passion a step further.
MR JOSS.
What?
MARY LAVENDER.
You know you said... at the interview... how much you approved of it. [He looks blank]. OF PASSION IN YOUR ASSISTANTS.
MR JOSS.
Well I agreed with the Board that....
MARY LAVENDER.
Well... I propose to devote my life... all of it... not just my hours in the shop... to selling war. My whole existence... my whole, passionate self....
MR JOSS [interrupting].
Good girl.
MARY LAVENDER.
I shall sell round the clock.... Vend as I eat.
MR JOSS [hands in prayer].
UNDER ONE ROOF, we shall attain an infinity of sales. [Greedily] Think of five per cent of infinity. [Guffaws].
MARY LAVENDER.
NOT for the money. I am resolved because of what I am. My philosophy has come to the boil.
MR JOSS.
Be careful, Miss Lavender.
MARY LAVENDER [exploding].
Careful? I have thrown careful through the window... and... have further resolved... to do more than JUST sell. I propose to PREACH. PREACH WAR, MOUNT A CRUSADE!
MR JOSS.
You must not prevent Miss Pintail from selling. A sale is a sale, Miss Lavender - of what and to whom is beside the point. MAN is, because MAN SELLS. HOMO becomes SAPIENS in the marketplace. Apes never sold! Do get it straight, Miss Lavender - you sell war; she sells peace. The two sides of the penny of our civilisation. What meaning would war have if there were no peace?
MARY LAVENDER [downcast].
Seemed so noble, the conversion of Sadie Pintail.
MR JOSS.
Back to your hand grenades. Less philosophy, and, please, just the RIGHT amount of passion. [Pats her on the head].
MARY LAVENDER [confused].
But....
MR JOSS.
Keep your buts for the canteen.
MARY LAVENDER.
At the interview [Mr Joss looks pained] you said [he closes his eyes], 'Believe in what you sell... be passionate.' [Mr Joss pulls his 'long suffering']. How can I not believe passionately in war, the apotheosis of self-denial, where higher causes inflame the lower orders? [Mr Joss gasps at her oratory]. What we need is another poster, in yellow perhaps [very down-to-earth], say - up there! 'PACIFISTS ARE NOT WELCOME!'
MR JOSS.
For the last time [with mounting anger] you SELL! You may not preach, convert or crusade. [Gently] Have a philosophy my dear... by all means, but do keep it under control. Your philosophy should be like your little doggie... kept on a lead. Little doggies can't go walkies just ANYWHERE!
MARY LAVENDER [dejected].
Doggie on a lead.... So that's where passion ends. [Mr Joss nods, pleased at the sight of her dejection].
[Enter Miss Pintail. Full length purple dress; wide-brimmed purple hat. She carries a banner bearing the words COMPANY POET over her shoulder, like a brick hod. She places it against the Culture Counter display unit].
MARY LAVENDER.
Here's Sadie - fresh from her dictionary. [Sadie, extrovert, dances, exhibiting her purple dress]. Mornin' Sadie.
SADIE PINTAIL.
Mornin, Mary.
MR JOSS.
Good morning, Miss Pintail.
SADIE PINTAIL [continues to dance around].
Mornin' Mr Joss. [Pirouetting] Like my purple?
MR JOSS [pained expression].
Er... bit bright for the shop...? Bit... religious? [They glare at him]. Joking... [Laughing nervously]. Very appropriate.
MARY LAVENDER [irritated by his remarks].
'S perfect. 'S perfect, Sade. You've really struck a poetic reef there. That purple is in the height of taste. Really, Sade - in the height!
SADIE PINTAIL.
Yeah. I think you can say 'reef'.
MR JOSS [wearying of the badinage, consulting his watch].
Bit late, Miss Pintail, aren't we? [She glares at him]. Culture does not sell itself.
SADIE PINTAIL [aggressively].
Who said it does, or did? Who made any claims? I am late... because... I was reading a book.
MARY LAVENDER.
Book?
SADIE PINTAIL.
A Book.
MR JOSS [to Mary].
A book in Company time!
MARY LAVENDER.
You should have been manning Culture, Sadie, not reading a book.
MR JOSS [sudden thought, jovially].
She was reading her Olafsen....
MARY LAVENDER [in ecstasy].
Sven Olafsen... "The Science of Selling". [She sighs].
SADIE PINTAIL.
I was reading a salacious novel... at the same time, resolving.
MARY LAVENDER.
Resolving.... How wonderful. I resolved too, didn't I Mr Joss? Earlier on... before you came down from reading your salacious novel.
SADIE PINTAIL.
My resolution is not your New Year's flash. [Drama] It stems from a more profound urge.
MARY LAVENDER.
Don't think I don't know what an urge is!
SADIE PINTAIL [irritated by the debasement of her claim].
My urge is to remould my ego. I am appalled by it - even more so by the shape of the world it inhabits. I propose to declare war. [Mary Lavender claps].
MR JOSS.
Not here... please.
MARY LAVENDER.
Wonderful. [To Mr Joss] She's converted herself!
SADIE PINTAIL.
Holy war.
MARY LAVENDER.
Holy! Holy! Holy! Like Arabia!
MR JOSS.
Sounds very uncommercial.
MARY LAVENDER.
We are allies, Sade. Allies [trying to embrace her].
SADIE PINTAIL [pushing her away].
I propose to declare war on WAR!
[Mr Joss pulls a face, groans. Mary Lavender is enraged].
MARY LAVENDER.
ON WAR, Sade? You rat; you scabby traitor! PEACEMONGER!
SADIE PINTAIL [raising her voice, ominous, declamatory].
'Believe in what you sell,' they said.... Do I believe? 'I do,' I said. I believe in peace.... [Raising her arms] Pax vobiscum! But what is belief, Mr Joss, if short of passion? Nothing! ...If short of action? Nought! [In a rage she begins to tear down the War Front, throwing its goods to the ground, tearing at the dress uniform]. Down with it.... Wars, wars, arms, armies! Down! [She pulls down the uniform].
MARY LAVENDER [fighting to save her merchandise].
Up... up [picks them up].
SADIE PINTAIL [snarling].
Up... yes... up with CREATIVE PEACE. [Throwing the dress uniform to the floor] Detestable drapery.
MARY LAVENDER [struggling to retrieve it].
My beautiful uniform. [They fight, hurl merchandise at each other].
[Enter a customer, who selects a trolley].
MR JOSS [tries to calm them. Failing to do this by gesture he raises his voice, gesticulating wildly at the fighters].
A customer. War Front, I command you. Culture Counter, I order you. Desist. A customer. DID YOU HEAR? [Shouting] WAR FRONT, CULTURE COUNTER... DID YOU HEAR?
[Glaring grimly at each other, they disentangle themselves... smiling sheepishly from time to time at the customer, returning always to glare at each other. The customer, Miss Marjorie Lust, pushes her trolley towards the War Front. She ignores their struggle. She ignores Mr Joss. Head down, she looks careworn and weary].
MR JOSS.
Good morning madam. Welcome to Armageddon. [Marjorie Lust stops, lifts her head slowly. She sighs wearily]. Bayonets, pet food? The Complete Kipling? [Marjorie Lust closes her eyes, sways slightly as if dizzy with fatigue. She hardly seems to be listening]. You have arrived, madam, at a unique emporium. Where, under ONE ROOF [he looks around for praise] would you find such a range? [He laughs] And there's a joke. We have at the back a very fine range! [Laughs].
MARJORIE LUST [grimly].
Ar-tillery.
MR JOSS.
Ar-tillery? Er... anti-tank?
MARJORIE LUST.
No.
MR JOSS.
Anti-aircraft...? [She shakes her head]. A coastal battery perhaps? [She shakes her head]. Well, is it light? Medium? [Shakes her head]. Be heavy...? [Flash of inspiration] be howitzers?
[Sadie Pintail looks grim; Mary Lavender perks up].
MARJORIE LUST [drearily, shaking her head].
Mortars... please.
MR JOSS [lovingly].
Mortars... of course. Miss Lavender... mortars for the lady.
MARY LAVENDER [limping still after the fight].
Good morning, madam. No mortars here as you can see, but in the yard at the back we have the '105' - millimetres - and the '80' in the portable version.
MARJORIE LUST [matter-of-fact].
NO use.... You try getting an '80' onto a mule....
[They stare at her in surprise].
MARY LAVENDER.
So what had madam in mind? [Increasingly Sadie Pintail looks cross, and Mr Joss pleased]. Something for use in mountainous terrain?
MARJORIE LUST.
My Client had in mind the 60 millimetre....
MARY LAVENDER [excited squeaking. Her enthusiasm delights Mr Joss, appals Sadie].
The '60'. What a gun! Muzzle-loaded, fin stabilised. What weaponry! This way, madam, to good old smoothbore.
[They make their way to the back. Mr Joss beams at her performance. Sadie is snarling].
MARY LAVENDER [passing the buckets of hand grenades, with a fine theatrical gesture].
On special offer, madam.
MR JOSS [delighted, to Sadie].
She poses so naturally.
SADIE PINTAIL [to Mary Lavender].
No you don't. [She forces them to stop]. Old smoothbore is not at home.
MR JOSS.
Miss Pintail, we are here to sell. We are not here to prevent sales. [He holds her wrist].
SADIE PINTAIL [in her fury she breaks away from him, pulls Mary Lavender to the ground, pushes Marjorie Lust against the display units, pulls a cutlass from the bin].
A cutlass for Culture... [She brandishes it dangerously around their heads] waved against war. [She waves Mr Joss to move towards Mary lavender]. You two... over there.
[They move slowly. She hurries them with dangerous swipes of her cutlass. She is so busy marshalling them she forgets Marjorie Lust].
MARJORIE LUST [taking a rifle from her bag and raising it towards Sadie].
Drop it... Miss Purple... and don't fool. [Sadie does not. She continues to advance on the other two].
MARY LAVENDER [worried].
Drop it, Sade; she means it. This is real life, Sade.
MARJORIE LUST [matter-of-fact].
Real death at the end. Move, you colourful clown....
[Sadie refuses. Marjorie fires into the air. The cutlass is dropped; they freeze].
MARJORIE LUST [to Mr Joss].
Can't you control these lunatic interruptions?
MR JOSS.
They're in the grip of passion.
MARJORIE LUST [bored by it all].
Do you want this sale - or not?
MR JOSS [trying to be authoritative].
Miss Lavender. Sell the lady a mortar. Miss Pintail - stop trying to prevent her. [To Marjorie Lust] Of course we want your custom....
SADIE PINTAIL.
Do not! [To Marjorie] Buyer of death!
MARY LAVENDER.
Sade!
SADIE PINTAIL [to Mary].
Seller!
MARJORIE LUST [fed up].
Shut up! Croaking fanatic! [To herself] Ridiculous creature. [Down-to-earth] I buy guns to sell again. I have a child to feed.
[Sadie Pintail snorts derisively. Mary Lavender reaches out to her with a compassionate gesture.]
MARJORIE LUST.
Fatherless child as it happens.
MARY LAVENDER.
Poor fatherless child.
MARJORIE LUST.
Nice of you but no need. He died for a higher cause. His death gave me a mission as well as a mouth to feed.
MARY LAVENDER.
A higher cause!
MARJORIE LUST [with increasing matter-of-fact].
In a war of liberation that still drags on in the hills. I get them guns for his companions who fight on. They feed my child... who fights with them.
MARY LAVENDER.
Fatherless in a higher cause!
SADIE PINTAIL.
She gets no guns from Armageddon. Bereavement is no excuse for more of it. A starving child is no reason for orphaning others.
MARY LAVENDER.
She gets guns.... It's for a higher cause.
MR JOSS.
She gets them 'cos we sell them.
SADIE PINTAIL.
Disgusting, all of you. Excuses for killing! Excuses! Excuses!
MARJORIE LUST [moving her gun towards Sadie].
She gets them because she's got one.
MARY LAVENDER.
What's Culture say to that?
MR JOSS [directing Marjorie Lust towards the yard at the back].
This way madam. I shall serve you. Passion has gone too far; it has led to anarchy.
SADIE PINTAIL [leering at him].
Grubber.
[Mr Joss, ignoring her, tried to get past her to the back of the shop. Taking advantage of his proximity, she jumps onto him, shielding herself from Marjorie Lust's rifle. They struggle, 'covered' by the rifle].
MR JOSS [breathlessly, trying to get Marjorie Lust to point her rifle elsewhere].
Do point it elsewhere... [imploring] please....
MARJORIE LUST.
Feeble creature.
[Mr Joss makes a great effort to throw off Sadie Pintail but fails. She ends up sitting astride him].
MR JOSS.
Help me.
MARY LAVENDER.
Get off him, Sadie.
[Sadie presses on to him. Mary tries to pull her off. The three become involved in a fight. Marjorie Lust follows the melee with her rifle].
MR JOSS [emerging from the fight for a moment].
Coming, madam. [He is dragged into the fight again].
MARJORIE LUST.
Damn it.... I'll serve myself. [She walks towards the back of the shop. Sadie tears herself away from the fight and tackles her].
SADIE PINTAIL.
Oh NO. [She struggles with Marjorie Lust who drops her rifle. It is grabbed by Mr Joss who, in trying to see how it works, inadvertently fires it].
MR JOSS [foolishly, in the terrifying silence].
I didn't mean to.
MARJORIE LUST [angry].
You might have killed someone.
MARY LAVENDER.
Fancy firing for no cause at all. Who wants to die for no reason?
SADIE PINTAIL [who has been edging towards the foolish Mr Joss, grabs the rifle from him and pokes it in the direction of the girls.]
At last [poking them in turn with the rifle] the croaking fanatic is in charge - with the offer to her colleague of death for a higher cause. [Leering at Marjorie Lust] Go on buying... [leering at Mary Lavender] selling, and YOU'RE DEAD.
MARY LAVENDER.
I shall be happy to die for a higher cause.
MARJORIE LUST.
Stupid girl. No one's happy dying. Not that you'll get the chance. She won't kill.... Kill FOR PEACE? [Laughs derisively].
SADIE PINTAIL [matter-of-fact].
All over they are killing for peace. Peace is refusing to be meek. It proposes to inherit the world BY THE GUN. [Marjorie Lust snorts in derision].
MARY LAVENDER [nervously].
Now Sade... no need to be silly.
MR JOSS [feebly].
I'm not opposed to peace. You won't kill me. I appointed you... to be in charge of peace.
SADIE PINTAIL.
To sell it at a profit.... Disgusting you were, and disgusting you've remained.
MR JOSS [whining].
I'm not OPPOSED to peace!
SADIE PINTAIL.
Not OPPOSED to war. Not opposed to anything THAT SELLS.
MR JOSS.
You wouldn't kill a man just 'cos he wasn't OPPOSED to things - would you? I'm not worth shooting. [Going down on his knees] Bullets cost!
SADIE PINTAIL.
I'm shooting those of you who oppose peace.
MR JOSS.
It will be the end of my career.
MARJORIE LUST.
Shoot him for being a mercenary fool. Shoot her for glorifying war. But not me - lives depend on the guns I get. A freedom movement depends.
MARY LAVENDER [irritated by Marjorie Lust's remarks].
Isn't it time you tested your theory. Walked into the safety of her conscience. Go on. See what happens. She won't kill you... you KNOW she won't.
[Marjorie Lust stands staring at Sadie Pintail then slowly takes a step in her direction, takes another. Sadie's finger trembles on the trigger. Marjorie Lust takes another step. Sadie fires. Marjorie Lust falls, holding her shoulder. As she falls, Sadie fires again].
SADIE PINTAIL.
Winged for peace. Peace has struck!
MARJORIE LUST [in pain on the floor].
They will die. In their thousands they will die. Arms are their food. He will die, my boy... unfed.... They depend on me.
MR JOSS [running to her, bending over her].
What can I do to help?
MARJORIE LUST [in despair].
The old cry: what can I do? When it is over, what can anyone do?
SADIE PINTAIL.
Now YOU [to Mary] declare for peace.
MARY LAVENDER.
Where's your feeling for HER...? How can you get on? [She runs to Marjorie Lust and alongside Mr Joss bends over the body. To Sadie] Give in to you? [She laughs] After this? No.... You mow me down, like you mowed down a mother. Show the world more of your passion for peace.
MR JOSS.
Why was passion overpraised? Why did I recruit it?
SADIE PINTAIL.
Because you never expected to encounter NAKED passion. What you wanted at Armageddon was PADDED passion; well-clothed, agreeable passion. CONTROLLED passion. You appointed the wrong pair. You appointed the NAKED SQUAD.... [She waves the gun at him]. Before you, OLD JOSSER, stands NAKED PASSION!
MARJORIE LUST [in pain, rolls on to her side. Speaking with difficulty].
I would like to know. I am a soldier. Tell them... tell HIM... I died on duty. [She slumps].
MR JOSS [leaning over her].
My first dead customer.
MARY LAVENDER [in despair lifts her in her arms, kisses her].
Shot in peacetime [looking at Sadie Pintail] by one of its advocates.
SADIE PINTAIL.
I'm sorry she's dead, but she knew it might happen. It wasn't peacetime for her. She was prepared.
MARY LAVENDER [still holding Marjorie Lust in her arms - talking to her].
So being prepared is what matters. [She kisses her forehead and lets her fall back to the ground. To Sadie Pintail] In which case shoot us, Sade. We're prepared. We know - when you're roused, you kill.... You're not just a talker, are you, Sade?
MR JOSS.
Please, Miss Pintail. Don't include ME in US. I'm not prepared.
SADIE PINTAIL.
Don't worry, Mr Joss, I expect I shall kill her, who is noble but misguided, when I should kill you who are despicable. It's the way of things. [She waves her gun at him. He jumps].
MR JOSS.
I'm an honest salesman.
SADIE PINTAIL.
From which contradictory self you will no doubt be smart enough to stay alive.
MARY LAVENDER.
You will be punished, Sade. You can't kill and get away with it, not for any cause.
SADIE PINTAIL.
For the cause of peace you can do what you like. Wait and hear.
[Enter Private Lent pushing a trolley].
MR JOSS.
Thank heaven, a customer. I feel like Mafeking.
MARY LAVENDER.
It's our daily soldier from the Brigade of Cooks. He'll deal with you, Sade. Now for the punishment.
PRIVATE LENT [cranes his neck in the direction of Marjorie Lust].
What is THAT?
MARY LAVENDER.
The body of a mother.
MR JOSS [horrified].
A customer.
PRIVATE LENT [still pushing his trolley, tiptoes up and peers at Marjorie Lust].
You're right....
MR JOSS.
She did it.... Sadie Pintail... went berserk. She shot one of my customers!
PRIVATE LENT.
For no reason...?
MR JOSS.
Arrest her. Surely you carry handcuffs?
PRIVATE LENT [incredulous].
Shot her?
MR JOSS.
Get on with it! ARREST HER!
MARY LAVENDER.
Act like a soldier - you ARE a soldier - are you?
PRIVATE LENT.
Cook.
MR JOSS.
Soldier first - surely?
PRIVATE LENT.
I really must hurry; I've left the pressure cooker on. What happened... did you say?
MR JOSS.
SHE shot HER. Where are your guts? Clap her in irons!
PRIVATE LENT.
I joined up - really - to escape the terrors of peace.
SADIE PINTAIL.
What of the terrors of war? Surely they upset your little equilibrium?
PRIVATE LENT.
My main worry is indigestion. I eat BETWEEN... [they look appalled]. Cooks do. [Sweetly enquiring] What did the body come in for?
MR JOSS.
Devious swine, changing the subject....
MARY LAVENDER.
She was buying guns for some foreigners....
PRIVATE LENT.
Brave
MR JOSS.
More than you ever were, gutless flunky.
MARY LAVENDER.
Passionless Private.
PRIVATE LENT.
All I want's a quite life at the sink. Expose yourself - you get shot. That's what she did I expect, the silly. [Sweetly enquiring] Did she ask for anything in particular?
MARY LAVENDER.
Artillery. But what would you know about guns?
PRIVATE LENT.
I say - a housewife - artillery! [Laughing] For the kids?
MARY LAVENDER.
She had a boy.
MR JOSS.
Fat lot you'd care... fartin' little runt.
PRIVATE LENT [moving off].
Did you know? I've got a list as long as a rolling pin... must be coffee... [sweetly] get some coffee.... [He pushes the trolley behind the Food Fare and, out of sight of the others, takes a Colonel's jacket and hat from his shopping bag. He proceeds to 'change' himself from Private to Colonel Lent].
MARY LAVENDER.
What a turnabout. I swore at a soldier.
MR JOSS.
I swore at a customer.
SADIE PINTAIL.
I forgot the cause of peace. I should have got him to desert.
MARY LAVENDER.
He wasn't a real soldier. He was pretending.
MR JOSS.
A neuter; stood for nothing.
MARY LAVENDER.
She stood for something, the one we killed.
SADIE PINTAIL.
I killed.
MARY LAVENDER.
No, WE, Sade. We all killed her....
[Private, now Colonel, Lent appears pushing a trolley onto which he loads Marjorie Lust. The others gape at his transformation and performance. He delves in her handbag and finds a wallet].
MR JOSS [protesting].
What the...? Are you the...?
COLONEL LENT [reading the wallet's contents].
As expected.... [Reading] Miss Marjorie Lust.... [To Sade, with authority] You were defending yourself of course....
SADIE PINTAIL.
I....
MARY LAVENDER.
WE killed her, the three of us.... We were not defending ourselves.
MR JOSS.
When she says, "WE...."
COLONEL LENT [to Mary Lavender].
You'll have to change that story. Not one we'd accept. [He grabs the rifle from Sadie]. One of theirs. You WERE defending yourself. Not that it matters how she died. We simply wished to know if she bought arms; now we do.
MARY LAVENDER.
You can't gloss over a death, in a shop, in peacetime.
COLONEL LENT.
You can if it's in the right category.
MR JOSS [pointing to Sadie Pintail].
She committed a crime.... She shot a poor customer in the name of peace. At the time the poor woman was innocent.... She's a murderess....
COLONEL LENT [ignoring his outburst. To Sadie Pintail].
Your name is...?
MR JOSS.
Miss Sadie Pintail.
COLONEL LENT [writes in a notebook].
You are to be congratulated Miss Pintail.
MARY LAVENDER.
Surely it's in war we get congratulated for killing; not in peace.
COLONEL LENT.
War? Peace? There's only life and death. [In the official voice of a citation]. I shall recommend all three of you for bravery in face of the enemy. Miss Pintail for outstanding courage. The Government would like to thank you for the part you have played - albeit unwittingly - in the ensnarement and destruction of a wanted terrorist and enemy agent, Sophia Andretti. [They turn to gaze on the body on the trolley]. Our mission completed, we shall be closing Armageddon at lunchtime. [He wheels away the body on the trolley as the others glare grimly at his departure].

END

L. J. Hyde