DARLINGHURST NIGHTS

By Katherine Thomson

Music by Max Lambert

Based on the book Darlinghurst Nights

by Kenneth Slessor
The premier production of Darlinghurst Nights was at the Wharf Theatre of the
Sydney Theatre Company on the 7th January, 1988.

Production was by the Sydney Theatre Company in association with Andrew

James.

ORIGINAL CAST

The Green Rolls Royce Woman Valerie Bader

The Gunman's Girl Kaarin Fairfax

The Girl from the Country Julie Hasler

The Gunman Kerry McKay

Joe David Sandford

The Iceman David Whitney

and Ken Ronald Falk

Director - Terry O'Connel

Musical Director - Max Lambert

Dramaturg - May Brit Akerholt

Set Designer - Jack Ritchie

Costume Designer - Monita Roughsedge

CHARACTERS

KEN is a man in his fifties, urbane, self-preserving. Journalist.

JOE a newspaper cartoonist, charming and prone to drunken existential

ranges.

MABEL a girl from the country.

FRANK an Iceman.

ROSE drives a Green Rolls Royce, enjoys cocaine. Where does she get
the money from?

CORA the Gunman's Girl, with plans of her own.

SPUD the Gunman, with even bigger plans.

CORA also plays the waitress.

SPUD also the manager of the Hampton Court Hotel
FRANK also Rose's “Papa”.

SET

Need to suggest the higgledy-piggledy nature of inner-city dwellings, where

voices can be heard across lanes and lightwells. It should also allow for the
harbour to be present when required. The set needs to provide a dreamscape, a
place for characters to appear and vanish.

Most importantly Ken needs his “eyrie”, his window or balcony from which
observes all of this happening.

TIME

Act On takes place in the days.

Act Two takes place in the evenings.

ACT ONE Daytime

ACT TWO Night

Ken, in this music theatre piece, Darlinghurst Nights, is a fictitious character

drawn from the qualities of the observer in the light verse of Kenneth Slessor's
Darlinghurst Nights and the voice of the poet in “Five Bells” and other poems
by Slessor. I have also used selected biographical details of Slessor, in
particular the puzzling combination of bon vivant, energetic and productive
young poet, and journalist who spent the greater part of his later years writing
leaders for Sir Frank Packer at the Daily Telegraph.

While Slessor published “Five Bells” when he was thirty-eight, I have chosen to
use it as a poem written by a man later in his life. The character of Joe is based
in part on black and white artist Joe Lynch as described in reports by fellow
Smith's Weekly artists and journalists following his disappearance one night into
Sydney Harbour, from a number of unpublished manuscripts in which Joe
Lynch is mentioned, and, of course, from Slessor's evocation of “Joe” in “Five
Bells”.

The light verses that we have adapted as lyrics were all originally published in
Smith's Weekly.

Katherine Thomson
 1

ARABIAN FAIRYTALE

There is a fairy-tale that says:

A man dips his head in magic water
And in that moment
He dreams he sails the seven seas,
Is captured by pirates,
Discovers a diamond as big as an
ostrich egg,
Marries a princess,
Fights many battles and is killed.
After he lives this whole lifetime he
opens his eyes,
Shakes his head and finds himself
With laughing people and everything
exactly as it was...
 2

KEN*
For thirty years the Harbour has
never been very far from my window.
Thirty years of Elizabeth Bay, Kings
Cross, Darlinghurst; to have it
all...some of it...any of it...
again. Meanwhile, fidget-wheel time
silently counts me towards -
nothingness. But always the harbour.
There is a second type of time -
memory time - that’s the one to
grasp, to hold down. Yet another
evening spent fiddling with what just
might.... become... a poem... Five
Bells.

Time that is moved by little fidget

wheels
Is not my Time, the flood that does
not flow
Between the double and the single
bell
Of a ship’s hour, between a round of
bells
From the dark warship riding there
below,
I have lived many lives, and this one
life
Of Joe, long dead -

KEN
Why do I think of you? I haven’t
thought of you for - Joe, was, I
suppose, the first of us to
demonstrate that it was possible to
disappear without a trace. Except for
his journal. Many years ago, one
night, he sat on the lower deck of a
ferry, there were fellow newspaper
cartoonists, journalists, Joe wearing
his ancient tattered raincoat.
Heavily laden, as was his custom,
with bottled beer - DA - crammed into
his pockets. There was the usual
jollity until someone noticed that
Joe had disappeared. Missing,
presumed drowned.(KEN OPENS A PAGE OF
THE JOURNAL)A sawn-off lock, some
sketches...
 3

KEN (cont.)
... very few entries. “Thus let me
live,unseen, unknown / Thus
unlamented let me die / Steal from
the world and not a stone / Tell
where I lie.” Scrawled below, “Pope
could be a stupid bastard sometimes.
I demand to be remembered...”

Why do I think of you, dead man,

You have gone from earth,
Gone even from the meaning of a name;
Yet something’s there, yet something
forms its lips
And hits and cries against the ports
of space,
Beating their sides to make its fury
heard.
JOE
(DIMLY LIT, PUTTING BEER BOTTLES INTO
HIS POCKET) I demand to be remembered
for something! Highly unlikely,
perhaps a piece of my hair in
someone’s locket if I’m lucky...Ken!

KEN
Are you shouting at me, dead man?
...Cry louder, beat the windows, bawl
your name! But I hear nothing,
nothing...only bells, Five bells, the
bumpkin calculus of Time.

JOE
Ken, Ken.
 4

KEN
Then I heard the thunder tumble.

JOE
Ken, it’s me, Joe.

A STORM DEVELOPS THROUGH THE SCENE.

KEN
Good God.

JOE
Come to a party. Half a dozen DA.

KEN
It’s late. Go home.

JOE
I can’t sleep. People I haven’t seen
for years come visiting, I wake up in
a panic.
KEN*
Go home. Wait. - You were right back
then. I - do sometimes think my life
should have been something else.
Full-time newspaperman and part-time
poet. Now, I’m reduced to slipping in
editorials about the onset of autumn.

JOE
You at your window.

KEN
Oh, yes. Giving half-life to other
people from five floors up. Gathering
and hoarding details, writing poems
people have forgotten.
 5

JOE
In which you captured a time. Our
Kings Cross, our Darlinghurst.

KEN
Well, yes. That’s what I was trying
to do.

JOE
Our time.

KEN
You had your pockets full of beer,
sitting on a rail, why didn’t you
hold on?

JOE
Not always possible. (PAUSE) Come
on. Alphabet letters and arrows of
fire...
KEN
Drawn to Darlinghurst by the lights
...It wasn’t only the place, but
ourselves in it. Ourselves here.

JOE
For a time yes. For a time.

KEN
I can’t hear you. What did you say?

JOE
Come on, come to the party.
 6

KEN
You wouldn’t know the place... Most
of the people have disappeared.

MUSIC. THE PEOPLE BEGIN TO APPEAR BEHIND THE SCRIM, CONJURED

BY JOE. THE STORM IS OVER.

JOE
Mabel from the country, with lips as
fresh as berries,
Eyes that stare without a care, and
cheeks like cherries...

KEN
The gunman’s girl wears mother of
pearl,
And a diamond (the latest
fashion)....
But bruises and bangles are mixed in
tangles
When a gunman bends to passion.
JOE
Where the landlord says with passion
The locality is choice,
Like an archduke in the gutter,
Goes the Green Rolls Royce.

KEN
...Once there was an Iceman

JOE
took us all by storm,

KEN
His ice was cold,

JOE
but his heart was warm...

ALL
There’s a golden hocus-pocus
Where the buried people eat
For the air is full of crocus
Blowing down to William Street.

MABEL
I just sort of got off the train, and
I could see it all sort of golden on
the hill...
 7

MABEL

...and I just sort of got on a tram,

and it was the right one...

ROSE
People in the suburbs - “How sad, no
garden.” My dears, never you mind, I
garden every day. (RINGS A SHOP BELL)
Oh. Oh. What on earth do you people
do to your flowers? Poppies the size
of plates. A dozen or I’ll die. Would
you pop them in the Rolls.

CORA
(AS IF TALKING TO REPORTERS) Right,
now yez all let me know if I’m
talking too fast. Oh...shorthand...
Right. Well, it’s real nice to have
Spud back from the clink, and it’s
the straight and narrow for us from
now on. Might open up a little
business, something respectable. So
long as the big droobs and flat feet
keep off his back that is.
 8

SPUD
Yeah we got plans, that’s all I can
say at the moment. Yez’ll all soon
hear about it.

CHORUS
Oh behold the Roman candles
Of the window boxes burst
As the fairies tap their sandals
On the Alps of Darlinghurst.

ROSE
A divine morning. Divine. And what a
wonderful night at Romano’s except I
simply cannot sit next to that boxer
again. Have you seen the way he eats?
And the drac you were lumbered with -
wasn’t she dead.
 9

ROSE
Probably had to throw confetti at her
own wedding.

MABEL
People in their dressing gowns, sort
of, just sort of going out to buy the
paper.

FRANK
It’s the landlords. “I can’t help it
if your husband’s work’s been cut,”
this bloke says to this poor bloody
woman the other day. She’s got some
eggs on the table. “You’ve got enough
money for eggs, where’d you get
those?” Real sweet. “These eggs came
out of a chook’s arsehole. Or don’t
they have any chooks in Rose Bloody
Bay? Well, never mind darling because
they’ve certainly got some
arseholes.” (MABEL WALKS BY) Oh,
excuse me love. Eh, she wouldn’t have
heard that, would she? (KNOCKS ON A
“DOOR”) Iceman. Ice-oh!
WOMEN
Where the stars are lit by Neon,
And the fried potato fumes
 10

WOMEN
And the ghost of Mr Villon
Still inhabits single rooms.

CORA
(IN THEIR “FLAT”) A what?

SPUD
A nightclub. You and me are opening a
nightclub.

CORA
No. A corner shop. That’s what you
said, a corner shop.

SPUD
Not a usual sort of nightclub, a
beauty. Something suave, for the
toffs. People’ll be fighting to get
in it. Or on it. Whatever. The
biggest nightclub in Sydney. Well
that’s nothing - it’s going to be
floating all around in the harbour.
Great sort of raft sort of raft sort
of set-up. We’re going to put Sydney
on the map. Sly grog market’s wide
open at the moment, but we’ve got to
be quick off the mark. Well, pick
your chin up off the floor. I don’t
know about you, I’m doing the Cross,
I’ve had enough time inside last me a
lifetime. Come on.
 11

MEN
And the girls lean out from heaven
Over lightwells thumping mops.
While the gent in 57
Cooks his pound of mutton chops.

MABEL
And four people in their evening
wear. Would they be just coming home?

JOE
Ken. Isn’t it comforting? No matter
what, the rich get richer. “The
wealthy curled darlings of our
nation.”

THE OTHERS, EXCEPT FOR CORA, BECOME THE LORDS AND THE LADIES.

SPUD, FRANK, CORA, ROSE

The lords and the ladies, the
beautiful ladies,
The lords and the ladies are noble to
see,
In sables and satins they tinkle
Manhattans
Or dabble their diamonds in butter
and tea.

JOE
...dabble their diamonds in butter
and tea.
CHORUS
Do you mind. Is he drunk? Friend of
yours?
The music is always by Tosti,
Delightfully wicked and gay;
Each waiter that passes has 500
glasses,
All pink, green and frosty,
That shine on his tray.

KEN, JOE, SPUD, FRANK, MABEL, CORA, ROSE

The lords have a habit of lying,
The archdukes are out of a job.
The Dresden princesses have dirt on
their dresses
And Sir Cuthbert is dying to borrow
two bob.

FRANK
Iceman! Ice!-oh!
 12

VOICE/(ROSE)
No love, save your breath, they got
themselves a Kelvinator.

SPUD
Gawd, keep walking straight - someone
I owe money to.
CORA
From Long Bay? I thought you kept your head down.

SPUD
Unless you want to part with yours
keep walking straight.(HE PULLS CORA
ALONG)

MABEL KNOCKS ON A DOOR, STEPS BACK, LOOKS UP. CATCHES THE

ICEMAN’S EYE.

MABEL
Looking for a vacant room.
FRANK
A lot of gents only round here, try
further down.

MABEL
Ta.

COMPANY
With a tea-cup full of water
And a proud progressive eye,
You can see the landlord’s daughter
Damping gardens in the sky,
 13

COMPANY
There’s a garden hocus-pocus
Where the buried people eat
For the air is full of crocus
Blowing down to William Street.
 14

THE OTHERS FADE. FIVE BELLS MUSIC. JOE ESTABLISHES A TRAM, KEN
JOINS HIM.

JOE
Fares. Rose Bay via Kings Cross.
Fares.

KEN
They could never go fast enough for
you. “Bloody trams.” You’d look up
the hill - (JOE DOES SO)

JOE AND KEN

I could walk faster than this.

JOE PREPARES TO LEAP OFF THE TRAM.

KEN
Were you beginning to give me clues,
is this what all this was?
JOE
“In skating over thin ice, our safety
is in speed.” (HE LEAPS OFF)

KEN
Wait!

KEN RINGS THE BELL AND THE TRAM SLOWS, STOPS, KEN STEPS OFF.
JOINS JOE.
 15

JOE
William Street...

KEN
Smells, rich and rasping. Even early
in the morning - smoke and fat and
fish.

JOE
Early opener?

KEN
How could we have been up all night?
My mouth ceased to function,
somewhere between Plato and Paradise
Lost.

JOE
In this pub here - a heart starter?

KEN
No. I do have to go to work.

JOE
No you don’t. Now, once a year - in
this pub here - bet no one’s ever
told you this - they commemorate a
very savage razor gang brawl. The
barmaids come out from behind the bar
and solemnly throw grapes,
representing eyeballs, to the floor.
Whole place stops.

KEN
How do you know these things?
 16

JOE
And of course it was just near here,
(HE CHECKS) yes, just here when I was
walking home, I saw a chap standing
stock still - have I never told you
this? Anyway he had little fine red
lines across his white shirt - like
this, very fine - like he was waiting
for something. A few seconds later,
his guts spilled out.

CORA HAS BEEN LISTENING TO SOME OF THE ABOVE.

CORA
Bullshit you saw that Joe Lynch. (to
KEN) Excuse the language. I’m the one
saw that happen. All those little red
lines, like the Northern Rivers river
system we used to have to draw in
school. If you drew them in red.
Which not many kids do I s’pose.
Anyway. (TO KEN) Gidday. (JOE)
Happened years before your time - and
it’s my story. I told him that. (TO
KEN) Hello.
JOE
(COMMENCES INTRODUCTIONS)
Ah. Miss -

CORA
Mrs.

JOE
Ah. Mrs...
CORA
Cora.
 17

KEN
Kenneth.

CORA
He partial to stretching the truth?

KEN
Yes...

I keep telling him, it’ll drop off if

you fib....

KEN
Good advice.

CORA
(to JOE) So don’t tell me your office
story was a porker, too? Oh, wasn’t
that true that story you used to tell
about your newspaper? Every morning,
he reckons, the first thing he does
is walk up to his boss’s office,
close his eyes, push open the door
and yell -
JOE
I yank open the door and yell, “You
stupid bastard, what makes you think
you can run a newspaper?” Then I shut
the door. Haven’t found him there,
yet. Intoxicating.

KEN
Yes. Yes. Yes. I’m a witness.

CORA
I love that.

SPUD
Take your time, I love waiting.

CORA
Tie a knot in it! (to KEN and Joe)
How rude can you get? Gawd, if he
leaned out any further he might fall
out. He’s got muggins me doing the
sly grog joints. (THE PRAM) He
reckons the coppers’ll never catch
on. First bloody place they’ll look.

JOE
How much?
 18

CORA
Three bob.

JOE
Oh. Crikey!

CORA
Sorry, he’s charging like blazes.

JOE
(TO KEN) Loan us three bob.

KEN
No. No. No.

JOE
Tightest bastard I know.

CORA
Oh right. You’re the poet.
KEN
Journalist.

SPUD
Pick your feet up, sweetheart.

CORA
Drop dead, though I suppose that’d
make my life too flaming easy.
 19

UNDERSCORING BEGINS.

CORA (cont.)
Eh, I’m off the bash but. Now he’s
home. That’s something. Going
straight’s just around the corner.

JOE
You’re a born model. I told you...

CORA
Look after yourself. (SHE GOES,
WHEELING HER PRAM) Kenneth.

KEN
I won’t ask.

JOE
I used to sketch her. She’d move, you
see. Magic. Most disarming. Ah, there
it goes - blimblimblimblimblimblim...
KEN
Top o’ the Cross. Glimpses of the
pulsating arrow, advertising what?

JOE
One bulb, then another, another,
another -

KEN
The quick flash of the entire arrow -

JOE AND KEN

(LOOKING AT ARROW)
Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.
 20

SPUD
Did you get the money?

CORA
Yes.

SPUD
You got the money.

CORA
Yes.

SPUD
They paid three bob a bottle no
questions asked.

CORA
Yes yes yes. (HANGS OUT THE WINDOW.
SEES KEN) Oh you’re still here.
KEN
Seems that way.

SPUD
(to CORA) Well show it to me, Jesus. A man
shouldn’t have to ask.

CORA
(to KEN) Nothin’ worse than
livin’ with a broken record.
Ever wonder you made a really bad
mistake.... (SPUD APPEARS NEXT TO
HER. SHE LOOKS AT HIM) Wonderful
gift, a sense of humour.
KEN LOOKS FOR JOE, HE’S GONE.
 21

THE GUNMAN’S GIRL

KEN
The gunman’s girl wears mother of
pearl

KEN, CORA
And dreams of French perfume;
With a face like stone she walks
alone
In a land where the Snowdrops bloom.

KEN, CORA, SPUD

There’s a kiss of a knife on her neck
for life,
And a diamond, (the latest fashion).
For bruises and bangles are mixed in
tangles
When a gunman bends to passion.

And, O, beware when she takes the

air,
Take care in the streets at night,
Cross over and hide on the opposite
side
To Dangerous Dan’s delight -
So give her a cautious peep my lad,
From the edge of a hang-dog eye
When a Smith & Wesson delicatessen
Gunman’s Girl goes by!

KEN, CORA
O, what are they at the gunman’s
flat?
My friend you are quite mistaken.
One peep behind, and you’ll probably
find
 22

KEN/CORA
She’s cooking him eggs and bacon.
Professional hours in bad men’s
bowers
Are all very well for rookery,
But a gunman’s wife in private life
Is more concerned with cookery.
KEN, CORA, SPUD
And, O, beware when she takes the
air,
And take care in the streets at
night-
She’s wheeling a pram with a pound of
ham
For a bad man’s appetite
She’s carrying butter and eggs my
lad,
There’s bacon at home to fry.
When the Smith & Wesson delicatessen
Gunman’s Girl goes by!
 23

SPUD
Sweetheart...

CORA
Yes.

SPUD
Sweetheart. I need you to go back on
the game for a while. (SHE SITS UP,
HE HOLDS HER ANKLES) I asked nicely.

CORA
No. You promised....

SPUD
A debt’s a debt. I pay it back we got a brand new
start.

CORA
No. No. Let go.
SPUD
For me, honey. For me.

CORA
No. No. God, if only someone’d learnt
me typing. Cripes, my mother’s...

SPUD
Shut up about your mother.

CORA
...my mother’s about to kick the
bucket from this business. Barely got
off her back to breathe, look up, see
the world and it’s all over. No. Let
go.

SPUD
Don’t think I don’t know you got some
dough stashed. Eh? What’ve you got
dough stashed for?

CORA
Don’t be stupid. (PAUSE) A couple of
weeks ago we’re flush enough to open
a nightclub -
 24

SPUD
I’d hate to be anywhere near me when
I found it. I don’t reckon I could
stop myself giving you a hiding
that’d send you halfway to China.

CORA
I haven’t got a zac.

HE DOES. SHE QUICKLY PUTS ON HER STOCKINGS.

SPUD
Then yer’ll keep delivering drain. Or
don’t you think we gotta live. You
can work on your back, or we move sly
grog. (SHE PREPARES TO TAKE THE PRAM,
WHICH RATTLES WITH BOTTLES) And have
a good think about who keeps who.

CORA
Who?

FRANK AND MABEL TURN A CORNER. HE’S CARRYING HER SUITCASE.

THEY WALK QUICKLY.

MABEL
Whee! Free!

KEN
Sounds from the footpath - a girl
whistling up to cages of canaries
hanging on the balconies. She refused
to leave until they whistled back.
She could have been there for hours.
 25

MABEL
That was lucky! That you -

FRANK
No worries.

MABEL
She went wild, but I’m not paying a
week’s rent when I’ve only been there
three days. That was really nice of
you. My name’s Mabel.

FRANK
Frank. We’ll find you somewhere else.

MABEL
That landlady, she kept saying I
looked like her dead granddaughter -
she’d burst into tears every time I
stepped out of the bathroom. And I
thought the soup tasted awful, one of
the others said she made it out of
cardboard. Someone saw her tearing up
a cornflakes pack. Ah well, she says,
and keeps on tearing. Nothing wrong
with a bit of roughage. Cardboard.
And the police came one night - there
must have been some bad types there.
FRANK
You’re not on the run?

MABEL
Eh? No.
 26

FRANK
I’ve got all sorts living in my
joint. Actors, writers living there,
everything.

MABEL
Really?

FRANK
Yes. Wouldn’t credit it. They’re as
good as gold, don’t hurt anyone.
Comic duo across the hall. Funniest
thing they ever do is lay off the
booze. (PAUSE) Somewhere nice. Hope
you’re not looking for a job as well.

MABEL
I’ve got one. I start tomorrow
afternoon. I’m just getting my
bearings. Eating into my bit of
savings at the moment. At the Hampton
Court Hotel.
FRANK
Go on!

MABEL
It was arranged for me. It’s not a
flash job, not big money, so I just
need somewhere cheap.

FRANK
How about ten shillings with a gas
ring and a weekly sheet change, top
to bottom?
MABEL
Yes please!

FRANK
Quite a few up this way recently
fumigated too which is always handy.
(PAUSE) I saw you yesterday. You were
standing on the other side of the
road, whistling up at those cages of
canaries on those balconies. I
watched you for ages.
 27

UNDERSCORING BEGINS.

MABEL
I didn’t see anyone around.

FRANK
We’ll try around here. (LOOKS AT HER)
I’m from the bush, too.

MABEL
Reckoned so.

FRANK
Missed it so much last year I got my
dog sent down for a holiday. Just a
short holiday. Property just outside
Balranald. Bit too parched for the
both of us - not the dog - me
brother, he’s still up there. And
yourself?
MABEL
Don’t I look like I’ve been here all
my life?

FRANK
No.

MABEL
Oh. Oh well. (LOOKS UP) That’s where
I see myself.
 28

FRANK
Yeah, well. I reckon you better start
seeing yourself down here. You go in
on your own. Wouldn’t want them to
think...something funny was going on.
I’ll wait.

MABEL PICKS UP HER CASE AND APPROACHES THE RESIDENTIAL.

 29

RESIDENTIAL

FRANK
Mabel from the country
With lips as fresh as berries,
Eyes that stare without a care,
And cheeks like cherries.

AND MABEL
Up and down the terrace
Innocently flitting,
Trying scores of funny doors
To find a “bed and sitting”.

FRANK AND MABEL

Such a nice lady beckons from the
landing -
Rather quaint, and caked with paint
But full of understanding.
ROSE
“Down from Molong sweetheart?”
Her voice is calculating.
“Board and bed, I think you said?
Yes dear would you mind waiting?”

KEN
A gilt and pimply mirror
Flaps with a distant glitter.
Somewhere far off there sounds a
cough,
And somewhere close a titter.
 30

MABEL EMERGES FROM THE RESIDENTIAL, WITHOUT HER CASE.

MABEL
Well, I reckon the walls might be
made of cardboard...but... I s’pose
as long as she doesn’t cook them...

FRANK
You want to let them know, at home,
where you are, now you’ve got
somewhere. It’s not knowing get’s
people worried.

MABEL
Oh, they know. (PAUSE) Ta.

UNDERSCORING STOPS

MABEL (cont.)
I might get a cup of tea. I missed
out on breakfast.
FRANK
What if I met you here, in about an
hour. To show you around.

MABEL
I nearly went in there yesterday. I
couldn’t pluck up the courage, it’s
sort of dark isn’t it?

THE OTHERS BEGIN TO ESTABLISH THE COFFEE SHOP.

 31

FRANK
Arabian. Place to go. (HE GOES TO
LEAVE) Oh, look - I can’t afford to
pick up the bill, in case yer thought
...when I come back...

MABEL
Oh, that’s -

FRANK
Just thought I’d tell you so you
wouldn’t order up big.

MUSIC.

MABEL
Dear Annie, I’m actually sitting in a
coffee shop, like something in a
book. The waitress is a really famous
artist’s model. I think she practises
standing still at work.
WAITRESS/CORA
(STONY-FACED) Yes. Arabian, Moroccan
or a blend.

MABEL
Um.
 32

WAITRESS/CORA
Coffee.

MABEL
May I please have a cup of tea.

WAITRESS/CORA
Pot of scald. Bushells?

MABEL
Oh, what other kinds are there?

WAITRESS/CORA
Bushells. Biscuits, or roll and
butter.

MABEL
Oh. Oh. Is that...is that - tea AND
biscuits?

WAITRESS/CORA
Well, I could always wait and bring
them later.

MABEL
Is it...

WAITRESS/CORA
Tuppence extra.

MABEL
(FUMBLING FOR HER PURSE) I think,
just the scald.
 33

*WAITRESS/CORA
Pay the boss on your way out. The big
Russian dyke down the back.

MABEL
Lovely, thank you very much.

WAITRESS/CORA
Lovely.

MABEL
And at another table, someone’s
reciting poems.

JOE
(PLUMMY ACTOR’S VOICE) Full fathom five they father
lies / Of his bones are coral made / Those are
pearls that were his eyes Nothing of him doth fade.
 34

KEN WALKS THROUGH, MAKING HIS WAY TO JOE.

MABEL
Whatever you do, Annie, you mustn’t
show this letter to dad. I don’t want
him coming down. You know what he’s
like when he gets his goat. Tell him
I’m safe and, if he asks where I live
just say I’ve taken a room in
Darlinghurst. (SHE CROSSES IT OUT)
Kings Cross. Please don’t think me
terrible for leaving. The farm and
the kids were driving me mad, and
they’re nearly old enough to look
after themselves. I’ll be able to
send you some money soon; tell them
to remember...

KEN WATCHES JOE IN THE CAFE. HE SKETCHES, IS UPSET, RIPS UP A

PAGE. HEADS TURN, THEN BACK TO THEIR CONVERSATIONS. FIVE BELLS
MUSIC.

KEN
The memory of some bones
Long shoved away and sucked away in
mud
...And unimportant things you might
have done
Or once I thought you did but you
forgot.
JOE
(TEARING UP A SKETCH) That’s me
finished. Can’t draw from life.
That’s what comes of churning out
cartoons for the capitalists. But
note, I don’t mind, I don’t mind. I
have abandoned my quest for
immortality. (HE GRABS KEN’S
NOTEBOOK) “Darlinghurst Nights and
Morning Glories, Being 47 strange
sights Observed from eleventh
storeys, In a land of cream-puff and
crime, by a flat-roof professor, here
set forth in sketch and rhyme.” My
friend here arranges words like
diamonds, he could be a great poet,
but is-this-the-country for all that?

KEN
Thank you. Come on.

JOE
 35

Instead, he squanders his talent on a

newspaper.

KEN
Please.

JOE
You dream of being a great poet,
admit it. He actually writes poems
about Sydney.

KEN
Come on, please. I’ll buy you a beer.

JOE
Good god. But the tragedy is, this is
not a country for dreamers.

KEN
Look at yourself - you’re at the top
of your profession -
JOE
Listen, Don’t dream too hard, Ken.
Lawson ended his days cadging
shillings with a smile. Tell me what
Kingsford-Smith does on weekends.
Takes Mr and Mrs Dulwich Hill and all
the little Dulwiches up on joy
flights - to raise enough money for
 36

JOE
(cont’d) the next Australian flight.
Ninety hours over the Pacific joy
flights. Someone forgot to tell them,
keep dreaming down.

KEN
Anything else you’d like to get off
your chest?

JOE
Thank you, I’ve had sufficient.
(PAUSE) You’re the only one who
listens, you know. Always...

UNDERSCORING BEGINS.

JOE
Here she comes. The woman with the
green Rolls Royce. I found out about
her. I’ve been watching her very
closely.
KEN
You’re too late. She’s desperately in
love with me, daily tries to press
her fortune onto me. Didn’t like to
tell you. My morality is in great
danger of flagging.

JOE
No, you’ve got it all wrong. Rumour
has it she’s a member of the Royal
Family, gathering numbers to stage a
coup.
MUSIC. ROSE GETS INTO HER “CAR”.
 37

THE GREEN ROLLS ROYCE

ROSE
Where the black Marias clatter,
And peculiar ladies nod,
And the flats are rather flatter,
And the lodgers rather odd,
Where the night is full of dangers
And the darkness full of fear,
And eleven hundred strangers live on
aspirin and beer,
Where the gas-lights flare and
flutter
And the phonographs rejoice

ROSE
In a condescending fashion
Goes the green Rolls Royce
 38

ROSE
If you care to do some prying,
And you want to get some thrills,
You can hear a lady sighing
To a pocketful of bills:
“Here’s the rent day getting closer,
I can’t bear things as they are,
You will have to pay the grocer
Or I’ll have to sell the car.”

ROSE
But no sooner has she said it
In a melancholy voice,
Than she goes and gets some credit
With the green Rolls Royce.
 39

MUSIC. JOE IS WALKING OR LOOKING AT THE HARBOUR. HE HEARS,

THEN SEES:

ROSE
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear - happy birthday,
Happy birthday to you.

JOE
Happy birthday.

ROSE
What? Oh. Oh. Not mine. Ha! Not mine.
Thank heaven for small mercies. You
can join the party though, whoever
you are.

JOE
Thank you. So who’s - (SHE PASSES JOE
THE BOTTLE) - the special person?
Moet at midday. Nearly midday. Salut.
(HE SWIGS)
ROSE
A young lady turns twenty-one - my
daughter...did I say that? - my niece
...just about now. Twenty-catches in
my throat-one. I do this every year.
One for me and one for her. (ROSE
POURS SOME CHAMPAGNE INTO THE
HARBOUR) It’s expected of me. If I
reneged a king-tide would rise up and
snaffle me away. So a bottle or
two...
 40

JOE
Yes. Yes. I understand. There’s
something unique about...I always
enjoy...relieving myself into...
(INDICATES THE HARBOUR) Returning
one’s water to the source.

ROSE
Breathtaking conversation.

JOE
You’re close to his young lady?

ROSE
Oh yes. Although I haven’t seen her
since she was a little, little,
little baby. Now she’s miles and
miles away. Hunters Hill, I believe,
Hunnnters Hill.

JOE
That isn’t miles and miles. There’ll
be a party.

ROSE
Bound to be. Toytown socialites can’t
help themselves. (SWIGS) Twenty-one.
The very interesting thing is -
whoops whoops, I’ll hust gather up
all my secrets - slipping out to have
a (OVER)
 41

ROSE
(CONT’D) paddle - back you come!
(SMILES AT JOE. TASTES THE CHAMPAGNE)
Champagne francois. Like drinking
wishes, isn’t it?

JOE
Yes.

ROSE
(SIPS) Courage. (SIPS) Growing
younger. (SIPS) That this charming
young man might have dishonourable
intentions. (PASSES BOTTLE) I do have
a lovely secret. Once I swore never
to tell. But perhaps this is the day.
wouldn’t you love to hear a juicy
little secret? You could sell it to
Truth newspaper: “Judge’s sullied
past.” The name of this young lady’s
father -
JOE
No. Don’t tell me. Don’t.

ROSE
(LOOKING ABOUT HER) The Rolls is a
marvellous machine. Do you know, I
only had to ask for it twice, and...I
can just go. Zoom. Zoom.

JOE
Where do you go in it? (HANDS HER THE
BOTTLE)
 42

ROSE
Nowhere! (PASSES IT BACK) No, the
last few wishes are yours. (PAUSE) I
have a very nice apartment. With a
view. I don’t normally have visitors.
(PAUSE) On the way home we could get
some cocaine from the herbalist. Oh,
did I say that?! There are no prizes
for missing out on a good time.

JOE
Thank you very much, I’ve had a very
fine time - thank you. I must
decline. May I walk you to your car?

ROSE
(COLLECTING HERSELF) Well, I’ll tell
you something - people can sermonize
their balls off. I speak as I please,
but no one ever asks where you got
the money you put on the collection
plate. (SMILES) That probably isn’t
what I meant to say. (SHE LEAVES)
UNDERSCORING BEGINS.

THE HAMPTON COURT HOTEL.

KEN
Mid afternoon. The golden hair of an
actress, draped out of a window to
dry. (JOE JOINS HIM)
 43

JOE
And have you heard about Driff? He’s
moved into a pub, every Sunday he
hails a taxi in Macleay Street, puts
his cockatoo in the front seat, and
tells the driver to take it for a
circuit of Centennial Park - “Does
him good to get out and see the
world.”

SPUD
What are you gawking at?

CORA
Just those two girls. They’re fashion
models.

SPUD
Trust you to know.
CORA
Well...I do. Every afternoon, they
take-afternoon-tea at the Hampton
Court Hotel.

SPUD
That whole bloody place is a take.
Snobbiest place on earth that joint.

CORA
I might just take myself in there (HE
LOOKS AT HER) - one day. Don’t they
walk nice, those girls....

VOICE
Good afternoon, Hampton Court Hotel.
One moment please. Putting you
through, sir. Good afternoon, Hampton
Court. Hold the line, please.

MABEL
Yes please. The Hotel Manager’s
expecting me.

VOICE
Good afternoon, Hampton Court Hotel.
 44

HOTEL MANAGER
Young lady -

MABEL
Yes.
HOTEL MANAGER
I understand you wish to see Mr de
Vere.

MABEL
Yes, please.

HOTEL MANAGER
I’m not sure he can place the name.

MABEL
Oh, dear. Just say Mabel that he met
in Molong. The one um...

HOTEL MANAGER
And has he arranged this position for
you?

MABEL
Yes, that’s right. We thought the
kitchen or um housemaid I’d be quite
good at. Or anything really. He
thought -
 45

ROSE SWANS THROUGH THE HOTEL.

ROSE
(PEELS OFF HER GLOVES AND MAKES HER
BIG DECISION FOR THE DAY) Afternoon
tea or... (LOOKS AT HER WATCH) Oh.
That late? Ah... (TO A WAITER) Table
for - Ah, I think...the cocktail bar.
Just for a change.

MABEL
Beg your pardon?

HOTEL MANAGER
Young lady, if you really have
recently arrived, I suggest you
return. You have no employment?

MABEL
Yes, here. If I could hust see Mr de-
HOTEL MANAGER
If I could just see Mr de Vere the
police would not be very far behind.
And residents of this hotel, the
owners of vaarious watches, wallets,
wirelesses - shaving kits - would no
doubt fancy siing him behind the
grille of a Black Maria. A con-man do

HOTEL MANAGER (cont.)

you see. Now, I wouldn’t like to
think you were an accomplice...

MABEL
I’m not.
HOTEL MANAGER
I strongly recommend you return to -

MABEL
Molong.

HOTEL MANAGER
Yes. We have our full complement of
staff, and these are very difficult
times. Now, I shall have to ask you
to leave the premises. You have your
train fare back to the country?
 46

MABEL
(NOW DOWN BY THE HARBOUR, THROWING
STONES) And I’m not spending it on a
ticket.

SPUD
It’s foolproof.

CORA
Listen to what you’re saying. What
happened to going straight?

SPUD
And a pleasant place to work, the
Domain Baths. These blokes wander
over from Macquarie Street, they
don’t trust the dressing rooms when
they pop over for a dip. You see ‘em
swimming up and down, head out of the
water, checking on their little
bundle. We’re selective: quality
suits. I dive in, strike up a nice
little conversation, my usual cheery
self... (CORA IS BY NOW HANGING LIMP
OUT OF A WINDOW OR EQUIVALENT) and
you all togged up in your bathers,
perch yourself next to his very nice
bag o’fruit, and drape a towel over
it and then say something like,
“Perhaps I should put my husband’s
things with my own...” Then you clear
off. It’s a whole new area - second
hand suits. Easy money. That’s the
ticket.

CORA
Oh, sure. About as easy as winning
Tatts!
 47

TICKET IN TATTS!

CORA
Ride a blue cab to the top of Kings
Cross,
Don’t mind the money, don’t think of
the loss...

CORA, MABEL, ROSE

...Buy a few diamonds and price a few
hats,
Flaunt a few furs and inspect a few
flats.
No more economy, here’s to gastronomy
These girls dream on,
WITH
A TICKET
IN TATTS!

MABEL
I’d like to buy some singing birds,
And strings of golden jade,
ROSE
And floppy books with tender words in
sentimental suede,

CORA
I’d like to buy some roller skates,
I’d like to buy some cartridges,

ROSE
And piles of willow-pattern plates,
And half a dozen partridges.

MABEL
I would give my cousin Gerald a
subscription to “The Herald”
 48

CORA
Or a model of a schooner,

ROSE
Or a little thing by Gruner

CORA
And a step-sister at Pymble an
electro-plated thimble

ALL
And devoted Great-Aunt Dinah, doing
uplift work in China,
I’d remember with some kisses and a
pot of black Narcissus
Or a bangle or a ribbon, or the works
of Edward Gibbon.

Farewell finances that wrinkle the

brow,
Goodbye to trams we use Cadillacs
now,
Hickory-Dickory
Gas-rings and chicory,
Watch us drink nothing but Moet - and
how!
Bring out your truffles we’ll dine
upon venison,
Hobnob with Dames as we yacht past
Fort Denison.
Flirt with Sir Whatnot in ten guinea
hats,
Fox-trot with no one who doesn’t wear
spats.

ROSE
In a kind of paralysis

MABEL, CORA
Picturing palaces,

ALL
These girls dream on,
WITH
A TICKET
IN TATTS!
 49

LIGHTING CHANGE.

JOE
(OFF) Quack. Quack.

KEN
Come on up.

JOE
Would you like to know how the
Borgias cooked duck?

KEN
No.

JOE
Found by Adam in an ancient Latin
cookbook. Take a duckling, tie it by
either foot to a stake circled by
bundles of dry sticks. Put beside the
creature a basin of cold water. When
the sticks are set ablaze, the heat
causes the duck to sip water, thereby
keeping it’s flesh tender while it
roasts to death. Quack quack. Give me
a quack and I’ll buy you a beer.
(PAUSE) Very easy. Come on you
bastard.
KEN
Quack.

JOE
Eh?

KEN
Quack.
 50

PUB IS ESTABLISHED. FIVE BELLS THEME.

JOE
Five beers down here. Oi. Oi mate.
Are you deliberately ignoring me?

KEN
...And unimportant things you might
have done,
Or once I thought you did but you
forgot...
...Looks and words,
And slops of beer; your coat with
buttons off,
Your gaunt chin and pricked eye, and
raging tales
Of Irish kings and English perfidy,
And dirtier perfidy of publicans
Groaning to God from Darlinghurst.
JOE
That publican’s a bastard. English,
of course.

KEN
Don’t start. Don’t start.

JOE
Bloody English. (TO KEN) You don’t
know what it’s like.

KEN
To be Irish. To thrive on suffering.

JOE
No! To truly belong to a place - and
to be - dispossessed. My grandmother-

KEN
God, not your grandmother again /
Someone get him another beer -
 51

JOE
Never ever forgot the day her face
was slashed on the end of a British
bayonet -

KEN
Forced out of mother Ireland /
Alright -

JOE
But she stood and let the blood drip
into the soil so that the land knew,
so that the grey ghosts of kings
knew, why she had to pack up her
family and come to the other side of
the world. You rotten bastard, you’ve
drunk the same amount as I and you’re
not even drunk. Same again. (TO KEN)
Undo. Undo. Loosen your bubbles.
(SPUD BEGINS TO APPROACH KEN, JOE
CALLS TO KEN AS HE LEAVES THE
SCENE...) Tell me where we are in
this place! The tide spills over
us...
 52

SPUD
Good evening mate, friend of mine’s
just laid his hands on some real good
suits - bit of sale going on down the
road, after closing. Interested, I
can put you straight.

KEN
Look, I’m not, I’m not. But hang on a
tick. Joe! Where is he? My mate’s
very hard to fit.

SPUD
Probably got just the thing.

KEN
Oh, good. He’s a plain clothes
copper, the stuff they’re issued with
is rubbish. Hang on, I’ll point him
out.
SPUD
Oh, right. I’ve got a beer coming
somewhere, I’ll get back to you.

FRANK
What time is it mate?

SPUD
Ah, close to six. Two more / thanks
mate.

FRANK
Eh mate, a schooner / down here.

JOE
Down here. Can’t be far off. - Give
us...Nah, mate, your clock’s fast.
It’s -

FRANK
Six o’clock?

SPUD
Can’t be six!

KEN
Dead on six. To the cuckoo.
 53

KEN, JOE, FRANK, SPUD

Delightful visitant with thee
We’d hail the time of flowers.
Could you but tell us of a pub
Where they sell grog after hours.

Sweet bird thy bower is ever green,

The sky is always clear,
Thou hast no sorrow in they song,
Thou art not fond of beer.

Oh, could I fly I’d fly with thee,

With feathered chums to mix.
For Sydney is a rotten place
With pubs all closed at six.
 54

FRANK
(TO MABEL) I, er, pinched some
flowers for you. Actually one of my
ladies asked if I had a sweetheart. I
didn’t know what to say. I got all
the way downstairs, and... (CALLING)
Actually yes, I do. Yes.

AN ANONYMOUS ARM THROWS SOME FLOWERS, WHICH HE CATCHES.

MABEL
I’ve never seen a fella carry a bunch
of flowers before.

FRANK
Yeah well. (STANDS THERE) I don’t
want to do it for too long.

SHE TAKES THEM FROM HIM.

MABEL
Thanks Frank.

FRANK
Got a late delivery, can you hang on?

HE KNOCKS ON THE DOOR.

VOICE/CORA
You’re barking up the wrong tree,
love. They got theirselves a
Kelvinator, too. Marvellous.
 55

FRANK
Yep. Marvellous.

MABEL
Well...as my mother used to say,
nothing really matters. If the roof
falls in, or your pants blow up...

FRANK
More and more’ll get Kelvinators. No one’ll even notice we’ve
gone on the scrapheap. (PAUSE) Yer know what I like. It’s
knowing there’s a whole lot of ladies, actually waiting for
you. Like one the farm, the way the cows hang around waiting
to be - cripes.
 56

GOOD-BYE ICEMAN

KEN
(SUNG) Ladies.

CORA POSITIONS HERSELF ON A LANDING.

Ladies.

NOW ROSE.

Ladies.

AND MABEL.

FRANK
(SPOKEN) Because out of all your
fellas delivering meat, bread,
clothes props your iceman’s the only
one actually invited in. Can’t say
much, but I’ve seen some things.
Ladies always standing on the first
floor landing
Ladies in the el-
e-
vator,

CHORUS
Ladies looking, looking while the
sausages are cooking,
Looking at the ice in the
refrigerator -
Once there was an Iceman, full of
burning smirks,
Cupid’s Casanova from the freezing
works;
Now there’s only porcelain, cupboards
and duplicity,
Pipes and wheels and switches and
stupid electricity,
 57

GOODBYE ICEMAN (cont’d)

Once there was an Iceman, full of
secret charms,
Adonis’s addition to my open arms,
Now there’s only cabinets, cycles and
devices,
Kerosene and heat exchange and units
to entice us.

MABEL, CORA ROSE

And girls grow sick of the cold
click, click
Of the
New
Re-
frig-
er-
ator.

FRANK, MABEL, CORA, ROSE

Once there was an Iceman, took us all
by storm,
His ice was cold but his heart was
warm,
Now there’s only clockwork, motors
and thermometers,
Whirligigs in cylinders, and gases in
gasometers,
And you don’t get any passion, in any
sort of fashion,
From the New
Re-
frig-
er-
ator.
FRANK
So listen, no longer, little pink
lady,
No one is tramping to knock at your
door,
There’s no more romance in the
Iceman’s glance,
And he doesn’t come round anymore.

MABEL TAKES FRANK’S ARM AND THEY EXIT.

 58

UNDERSCORING BEGINS AND CONTINUES UNTIL “DELICATESSEN”. A

MOVEMENT MONTAGE WHICH SUGGESTS A SIX O’CLOCK BUSTLE e.g.
CROSSING THE STREET, THE ODD CAR HORN. KEN AND JOE MOVE
THROUGH IT, OCCASIONALLY WITH IT. CHARACTERS BREAK OFF TO PLAY
“THEMSELVES”.

CROWD
Meet you at seven. See you for eight.
Come after nine. Dinner? Divine!

KEN
Friendships played out under neon
lights on wet and shiny streets.

SPUD
Oi. Oi Cora. The pub down William
Street is crawling, and I mean
crawling with plain-clothes nit. I’m
weak and starving. Pick us up a bit
of tucker.
CORA
Don’t hold your breath.

SPUD
What’ve you got your nose up in the
air for? Ah, walk normal, I know what
you’re doing. You’re never going to
be a mannequin, I don’t know why you
bother.

CORA
I’ll pick up some corned beef for
two, one with ground glass.
 59

KEN AND JOE PASS.

JOE
A couple of bottles of sly grog...?

KEN
Too expensive, and humiliating -
knocking on the counter in code.

JOE
(LOOKING AT KEN) The tightest bastard
I know.
 60

MABEL
I didn’t just happen to run into you,
you know, I knew what time you
knocked off.

FRANK
I’ve been meaning to ask you out for
a feed with me.

MABEL
Tonight?! Yes please!

FRANK
Crumbs. I meant after pay day. Three
day week you know.

MABEL
Well, that’ll be real good. I’m going
in there, so...

FRANK
Struth, you don’t do your shopping in
there.

MABEL
Oh yes. I do. I’ve talked the bloke
into letting me chalk things up.

FRANK
More hide than Jessie, I’ll say that
for you.

MABEL
I know. I’m only going to buy an egg.

FRANK
Will I wait and walk you home?
 61

MABEL
No, it’s alright, thanks. (SHE GOES
TOWARDS DELI, TURN AROUND) Eh, fancy
having to buy an egg! Bye.

FRANK
Hooroo.

ROSE
This time of night, terribly sweet.
All the chorus girls are lined up
outside the cake shop. Half price
cakes for them, just after closing.
One is so in the thick of things...

JOE
(CARRYING A FEW BOTTLES IN A PAPER
BAG) Right, now we’re in business.
Come on let’s polish them off.
KEN
No.

JOE
Come on.

KEN
No. I’m eating.

JOE
“What will you have,” said the
waiter, reflectively picking his
nose. “I’ll have two boiled eggs you
bastard. You can’t get your fingers
in those.” Bon appetit.

MABEL
(ON HER OWN) Dear Annie, I don’t know
if all of Sydney’s like this, or only
round here, but no one seems to cook.
Mum would’ve had a fit. You can buy
brawn, and you don’t even have to
crumb your own rissoles.
 62

MUSIC. THE WOMEN ARE IN THE DELI.

ROSE
My account closed? My account closed?
On the basis of a phone call from a
“gentleman”? Well I think we might
telephone him back. There must be
some mistake. I am a regular
customer, there must be some mistake.
You have made an error. I’ll say it
again so that you understand, you
have made an error. (PAUSE) I see. I
see. (SHE TURNS TO GO) You will hear
about
this. You will (SHE DROPS HER PURSE.
MABEL BEGINS TO HELP HER) Fingers
off. Fingers off.

MABEL
I’m only trying to help.
ROSE
Ha! Help yourself you mean. (SHE
BEGINS TO PICK UP THE “COINS”)

CORA
Couple of sandwiches short of a
picnic, forget it. Eh? Yes...Two
slices of corned beef. (PAUSE) No a
bit smaller, thanks. Eh? Um, I’ll
just take one for the moment, ta...

MABEL
An egg, please. An egg. Yes, please.
One.
ROSE STANDS, OR PREPARES TO LEAVE THE SHOP. CORA TAKES HER
PARCEL.

CORA
Thank you.

MABEL
(TAKING HER EGG) Thank you.

ROSE
(TAKING HER LEAVE) Thank you.

THEY ALL TAKE IN THE SIGHT BEFORE THEM.

 63

DELICATESSEN

ROSE, MABEL, CORA

Little round cherries in little round
glasses,
Oysters in bottles and soup a la can,
Over the counter the grocery passes
All for the love of a man -
All for the love of a far-away
someone,
Chafing with hunger in far-away
state,
Snatching from Mammon a mouthful of
salmon,
Banging a fork on his plate.

Olives and gherkins and sauerkraut

and white bait
Pork and asparagus captive in tin.
Searching for any marked “Tasty One
Penny”
Faces gaze wistfully in.

ROSE
Ladies who linger too late with
bargain,
Chauffeurs whose mistresses peer from
their cars,
All down the counter, they crowd with
their jargon,
Buying their dinner in jars;

ROSE, CORA, MABEL

Food for the flat, a snack for the
wealthy,
Arrogant truffles and vulgar sardines
Herrings and custard and mushrooms
and mustard,
Caviar, chicken and beans.
 64

FRANK, JOE AND KEN ARE ISOLATED, EACH WITH THEIR LITTLE
PARCELS. THEY MIGHT MIRROR EACH OTHER’S IMAGE.

KEN
Let aristocratic heroes
Boast the platters of the Guelph,
You can dream of Trocaderoes
When you’re dining by yourself:

FRANK, KEN AND JOE

You can hover like a glutton,
You can order what you choose,
Try the fricassee of mutton,
Toy with terrapin ragouts,
All the claret of Lugano,
All the fairy tea and toasts,
Bought by Ferdinand Romano
And a staff of lovely ghosts.

KEN
First the oysters round and juicy,
Served by some delightful girl -

KEN, SPUD
Call her Nancy, call her Lucy,
She may fetch perhaps a pearl;

FRANK
Next the soup of tender turtle
From a nymph with yellow hair -

FRANK, SPUD
Call her Mabel, call her Myrtle,
She can spice it with a stare;
 65

JOE
Then a fowl on gleaming china
that a pretty creature brings -

JOE, SPUD
Call her Dulcie, call her Dinah,
You may find a pair of wings.

KEN, JOE, FRANK, SPUD

For a moment they will glimmer,
For a twinkle they will gleam -
Then the kettle starts to simmer
And they vanish like a dream;
You can whistle for them vainly,
You may call in tender tones,
But the soup is printed plainly
With the name of Foggitt-Jones
Then you suddenly awaken -

KEN
There’s a sausage on the shelf,
And the bacon looks like bacon,
And you’re eating by yourself!

THE WOMEN GO BACK TO BEING THEMSELVES.

WOMEN
Ham, pink as roses, and peaches and
pickles,
Onions in crystal, like globules of
gold,
Out of the window the treasury
trickles,
Greedily speedily sold;
Olives and gherkins and sauerkraut
and white bait
Pork and asparagus, captive in tin -
 66

WOMEN
(CONT’D) Searching for any marked
“Tasty, One Penny”,
Faces gaze wistfully in.

ALL
Misting the glass of the windows they
press on.
Snub little noses pushed flat with a
sigh -
Delicatessen, Delicatessen,
Delicatessen, good-bye!

EVERYONE IS AT THEIR SPACE. THEY STAND FOR A MOMENT, THEN ALL

EXCEPT KEN, DISAPPEAR.

KEN LOOKS ABOUT HIM. LIGHTS FADE.

 67

ACT TWO
FIVE BELLS THEME. LIGHTS UP ON KEN IN HIS “EYRIE”. JOE PRESENT

KEN
“Between the double and the single
bell
Of a ship’s hour, between a round of
bells
From the dark warship riding there
below,
I have lived many lives, and this one
life...”

*KEN
(MUSIC) I never saw the spirit of the
Cross so charmingly demonstrated as
late one hot night - I am down by the
harbour, enjoying the silence, and
(LISTENS) a regular plopping noise,
followed by soft thuds and hisses.
From on a balcony above me large
white dinner plates are sailing out
into the moonlit air. Soaring out -
glimmering - splashing. And the
hissing? (PEERS UP) Someone is taking
advantage of these targets from
heaven by firing at them - with an
airgun.
MUSIC SUGGESTS HEAT. SILHOUETTE OF ROSE BRUSHING HER HAIR,
PINNING IT UP, FANNING. SOUND OF SOMEONE WHISTLING. WE MIGHT
SEE THE “SNOUT” OF JOE’S SAXOPHONE. MABEL ON A PARK BENCH.

CORA
Oh God, someone get me an aspirin.
 68

FRANK
(ON A STEP, SINGS TO HIMSELF)
Let banks and bailiffs rule the air,
Oh, what do lovers care?
The tide still floats upon the sand,
The moon still rules the air.

SPUD
Who took all the cold water? Struth,
there isn’t any cordial.

FRANK
The sky is still with magic blent
The heart still cries a tune -
Who’ll cut the night by ten per-cent
And who can tax the moon?

MABEL
Dear Annie, the whole city’s parched.
There was meant to be a change hours
ago. Guess what? I met this bloke.
He’s really nice. He’s got a real
solid job and - he’s always taking me
out to posh restaurants so I’m very
flat out at the moment.
ROSE
How’s one meant to breathe - there
isn’t any air.
 69

THE GIRL IN THE WINDOW

MABEL
The girl in the window
Looks over the square,
At a girl in a window
With pearls in her hair,
With diamonds to dangle
And feathers to preen,
A comb and a bangle,
As proud as a queen.

ROSE
In a flat so becoming,
So silken and sleek,
With hot and cold plumbing
(Ten guineas a week,

Where life is no harder

For paying a price
With fowls in the larder
And Heidsick on ice.
No need to be thrifty
Or spend and repent,
With “Papa” aged fifty
To fix up the rent.

ROSE AND MABEL

The girl in the window
Looks over the square
And sees, in a mirror,
Herself standing there.
 70

ROSE
The girl in the window
Looks over the square,
At a girl in a window
With eyes of despair,
In a cheap little attic,
A cheap little dress,
All cotton and Batik
(Ten shillings or less),

MABEL
A trunk with no label,
A ricketty bed,
A broken down table,
A banquet of bread,
The wallpaper peeling,
A crack in the door,
A crack in the ceiling,
And dust on the floor;

ROSE AND MABEL

No hope for tomorrow,
The money all spent,
A fortnight of sorrow,
Behind in the rent.

The girl in the window

Looks over the square -
At a girl in the window -
Herself - standing there.
 71

JOE
What are you doing?

KEN
Waiting for the southerly change.

JOE
And?

KEN
This harbour like a sky that no one
uses. That’s all.

JOE
You at your window. Your world
through your window. The day your
window cracks - the stars’ll burst. I
wish I could be around to see it.

KEN
Where are you going? (NO REPLY) Where
are you going?
JOE
Well, are you coming or not? The
girls down Palmer Street have moved
their gramophones out onto the
balconies, they’re all out on the
street dancing with their clients.
I’m to bring a friend.

KEN
Thank you, but...

JOE
Well, it’s probably all over now
anyway. I’ve probably missed it. A
street full of gossamer angels.

SPUD HAS APPROACHED MABEL.

SPUD
Listen love, blind Freddie could see
you’re new at this.
 72

SPUD
This isn’t your territory up here.
The other girls’ll have your guts for
garters.

MABEL
Um, I live near here. I’m waiting...
What girls?

SPUD
Look, I’ll do you a favour and hang
about a bit. How’d you like to earn
twice what you’re earning now?

MABEL
I’m not earning anything at the
moment.
*SPUD
All right. You got grass growing out
of your ears, but don’t lay it on too
thick. I’m talking about two pounds,
on a good night.

MABEL
Beg your pardon?

SPUD
Listen, I’m not a copper, I’m not
trying to do you in. I’m offering you
very good, clean work, down the
docks. You’re not silly enough to
turn your nose up at two pounds a
night, are you?

MABEL
To do what?
 73

SPUD
Like I said, to do the docks. They’ve
been left a bit short. The Swedes are
in, easy work the Swedes, very clean,
remarkably clean.

MABEL
Two pounds a night...

SPUD
Too right. And the rest.

MABEL
I - I - I don’t know anything about
ships. I’m waiting for my boyfriend,
you’d better hop it. He gets real
jealous.

SPUD
Your story and you’re stickin’ to it.
Please yourself. Pretty hard world
when you try to do someone a
favour...
 74

KEN STILL AT HIS “WINDOW”. JOE IS PLAYING, AS IF SITTING ON A

ROOF TOP. MABEL MAKES HER WAY UP TO THE SAME LEVEL.

MABEL
Oh...I thought I was the only person
in the place who ever came up on the
roof. Sorry...

JOE
Stay.

MABEL
(SHE SITS) Talk about hot. There’s
usually some sort of breeze up here.
(JOE PLAYS) Oh. I hear you playing
sometimes. It’s really nice. I always
wondered who it was. When did you
learn?

JOE
I was very young.
MABEL
Oh.

JOE
And my mother put it in my mouth to
shut me up. And, every time I cried,
music came out.

MABEL
Really?

JOE SHAKES HIS HEAD. JOE LEANS OVER THE EDGE, AND CATCHES
SOMETHING IN HIS HAND.
MABEL
Be careful.

JOE
First of the Christmas beetles.
Early.

MABEL
Oh.

HE PLACES THEM IN HER HAIR.

JOE
Do they hurt?
 75

MABEL
No.

HE CATCHES SOME MORE AND PLACES THEM IN HER HAIR. KEN

WATCHES.

MABEL
Do they sparkle?

JOE
Oh yes. They do. (PAUSE) One night,
you know, on a sparkling night just
like this, I’m going to invite
everyone I know to a banquet - up
here on the roof. People I don’t know
very well perhaps - Parnell, the Pope
- provided they watch their table
manners. After the meal I will stand
on the table, clearing it little, my
friends and acquaintances laughing as
the odd crystal glass tinkles from
the table, the odd bottle of claret
up-ended, flowing into bread. Then I
will begin to dance very carefully
along it. Waving and nodding,
countering jokes and laughter, I’ll
keep dancing, but faster. As I get
near the end of the table - who will
be the first to catch on? Ken - you.
(HE SPEAKS ACROSS TO KEN, MABEL
DOESN’T ACKNOWLEDGE THIS) Definitely
you. And I’ll soar off over the roof,
past the windows, reading the Neon
lights on the way down, the
occasional red or white pulsating
arrow clarifying the direction in
which I am heading. And hopefully, at
last, a good look up to see?...
Everyone, for once, knowing exactly
where I was. Everyone in agreement
about what I’d done.
 76

MABEL
(PULLING THE BEETLES OFF HER HAIR)
They’re starting to stick into me...
um...

JOE
(TO KEN, AND STANDING CLOSE TO AN
EDGE) But remember I think you’d be
the first to catch on.

MABEL
Please could you sit down. (PAUSE)
It’s quite frightening seeing someone
...I’m going in now...Thank you
for...

KEN
(TO JOE AS HE BEGINS TO PLAY AGAIN)
Some years later I was in a garden,
at a party. Dusk. I was courting a
young woman. I placed Christmas
beetles in her hair. I surprised
everyone, I surprised myself, and the
thing was, I pretended it was an
original thought.
UNDERSCORING.
 77

ROSE
No! No. No. No! Papa...

PAPA/FRANK
That’s the agreement.

ROSE
But not yet...

PAPA/FRANK
She’s turned twenty one -

ROSE
Surprisingly, I did remember.

PAPA/FRANK
And as you know our arrangement is
therefore terminated. I’ve let it go
on...You must have savings.
ROSE
Must I? Must I?

PAPA/FRANK
I’ve always thought a florist’s...

ROSE
Ha! Can you imagine!

PAPA/FRANK
I’ve always thought you’d like doing
that. I could give you some
assistance but that really will be
all.
 78

ROSE
No more weekly visits? No more
cheques left discreetly under the
pillow? I’m grief-stricken. I’ll sell
the car. I’ve never really liked it.

PAPA/FRANK
Have you ever asked to see the
papers? It’s in my name, always has
been.

ROSE GOES TO THE WINDOW AND LOOKS. IT’S GONE.

ROSE
Well, as I’ve often said, a standing
cock has no conscience. “Leading QC
leads double life. Mother of his
love-child tells. Wife shattered.”
Finally.

PAPA/FRANK
Left the bar last week, to potter in
my rose garden. Papers couldn’t care
less about me now. (PAUSE) This may
come as a surprise, but I’ve had you
followed for some months. Your
cocaine habit...interested me.

ROSE
I’m coping, that’s all. Coping with
the so very dull gay circle you found
for me. (PAUSE) I’ll find her -
PAPA/FRANK
There is a portfolio, photographs,
and at the smell of trouble, a doctor
friend of mine would be prepared to
certify you. In case you’re thinking
of anything,
 79

PAPA/FRANK
(cont’d) we’re sending her off to
London, she’s very interested in Art-

ROSE
I’ll go to London and find her. One
day when you’re hacking at your poor
bloody roses, we’ll come visiting. My
daughter and I, strolling down the
garden path - discussing Art! Yes.
Hopefully you’ll drop dead of shock.
Older men do you know. In their
gardens.

HE LEAVES.

ROSE
The world is full of old men kneeling
over in their gardens.
SHE SHOUTS OUT OF THE WINDOW.

ROSE
And wives secretly jumping for joy!

SHE CATCHES KEN’S EYE AND DISAPPEARS INSIDE.

JOE PLAYS.

LIGHTS UP ON SPUD AND CORA.

KEN
The saddest sound you ever heard, you
said. Late one night, a prostitute
crying for her mother.
CORA
No! No more schemes ... no....
 80

SPUD
Sweetheart, this is big money. After
a few of these, you can do whatever
you want - be an usherette, a
footballer, whatever. You only got to
watch. You can watch can’t you?

CORA
The last person I knew got involved
in snow had her face slashed to
pieces.

SPUD
(SHOWS HER A GLINT OF HIS KNIFE) All
I’m asking is you listen to this
simple plan see if you like it. Bluey
and I go down to the Loo, organise a
little boat. The chinks are hanging
over the side of the ship, painting
her. Ooops a daisy, the chinks fall
in the drink. All the chinks on deck
look over and chuck ‘em...lifesaver
bizzos. There’s the snow - inside.
You just keep a lookout. Trigger
finger warm, on Mr Smith and Wesson.
I won’t do it unless you’re happy.
(KNIFE GLINTS) That sound like an
easy way to make some dough?
CORA
And the dope sits here?

SPUD
We’re moving. Posh block, safe as
houses. You know, you’re the only
person I can trust.
 81

FIVE BELLS MUSIC. THE CROSS IS STILL.

JOE
The world gets darker and darker.
Blow it all up and start again.

KEN
In Sydney, by the spent acquarium
flare of penny gaslight on pink
wallpaper, we argued about blowing up
the world... (TO JOE) You are totally
illogical.

JOE
Because the idea of Fading Away -
fading! - is so odious, the mortal
coil slipping off with just the
suggestion of a shrug -

KEN
Human beings are self-preserving.
JOE
Well, of course, we all know about
you. I wonder, have you ever sneezed
without first having the handkerchief
out of your pocket?

KEN
Go home.

JOE
We rage at not being remembered - a
piece of your hair in someone’s
locket if you’re lucky. Don’t tell me
even you can’t summon up some pique
about that?
 82

KEN
Look -

JOE
The point is, really the point is,
that people cannot bear to think that
the world, life, could possibly
continue after they go.

KEN
No - we want to leave something -

JOE
That life takes care of itself. The
extension that is to leave nothing.

KEN
Assuming they’d ever find a way to
blow up -

JOE
They will because they need to. (JOE
STUMBLES, CLUTCHES AT KEN) Ah, for
example, at first - I hold onto you
for support, then there’s a split-
second...bugger it, I think, if I’m
going, I’ll have company.

JOE FALLS, KEN REMAINS STANDING.

KEN
Please go home.

JOE
(ON THE GROUND) I’m told another
distressing experience is to
contemplate one’s life in, oh,
(cont’d)
 83

JOE
(cont’d) twelve months time - and to
be unable to see oneself in it.

KEN
This is all you is it? All this?

JOE
“The moon is of monster size, and the
sky is full of mad astronomy.”
Comforting, though, that the stars
look better from down here.

KEN
Exactly. That’s what you always would
do - blankets of words and beer. No
one could budge you.

JOE
Not even an elephant.

HE MAKES A DRUNKEN GRAB AT KEN’S LEG.

KEN
Get up.

JOE
Just remember, one day you’ll know...
the-insidious-allurement-of-the-will-
to-failure.

KEN
For Christ’s sake. Come on. You’re
less and less amusing you know.

JOE
Thank heaven for that. Thank heaven
for that.
 84

KEN HEARS THE SQUEALS AND LAUGHTER FROM THE FOLLOWING.

MABEL IS STANDING ON THE “HARBOUR WALL”. FRANK IS A SMALL

DISTANCE FROM HER. THEY HAVE HESSIAN BAGS WITH THEM (FOR
FISHING). HE RUNS, GRABS HER AND PRETENDS HE’S GOING TO THROW
HER IN.

FRANK
In the drink! In the drink!

MABEL SQUEALS AND PROTESTS.

MABEL
I knew you wouldn’t.

FRANK
Why’s that?

MABEL
Because I’ve got the best line. (IN
HER HAND) You wouldn’t’ve let that
go.
FRANK
Sat up all last night getting the
tangles out.

MABEL
It was a good feed I got for you,
but.

FRANK
Here’s one - do you know that a
single fly lays four million eggs in
a season? ...Cripes, what about the
married ones?
 85

MABEL
Wonder what the fish make of all the
lights. Look at that.

FRANK
“Nice place to visit, but not where
we belong.” Buzz back out in the
centre. Like us. (PAUSE) It’s the
space, in the long run. Very
difficult for people like us who’ve
had space, not to have any. Oh, I
didn’t tell you, we had rain.

MABEL
Oh, that’s real good.

FRANK
Three years. Eh, on the first day of
rain out your way, do you get those
tiny little green frogs just come out
of nowhere? Funny, isn’t it, they
jump around for a day or two, and
then they’re gone. (PAUSE) You let me
know if you decide to go back sudden.
MABEL
I’m not packing it in. I just know -
it won’t be long, something good’s
going to happen.

FRANK
That’s what I thought two years ago.
(LOOKS AT HER) Took a while.

MABEL
I never really liked all that space.
 86

FRANK
Oh well, we’ve got trees. Nice lot of
trees...

SILENCE.

FRANK
Big ship. Off she goes. Where do you
reckon that one’s from?

MABEL
(PEERING) Sweden. Very clean
apparently.

FRANK
You’ll have to pack it in soon.

MABEL
Well, I don’t mind eating fish all
the time, and the landlady forgets
about the rent, if I listen to her
organ recital -
FRANK
Eh?

MABEL
...liver, kidneys, gall bladder,
veins...

FRANK
I’ve been having a good think about
my place up home. I reckon somehow
with some new machinery - a lady’s
touch around the place - I reckon two
might make a go of it.
MABEL
Got ‘im! Got ‘im!

FRANK
Gawd. Give it a tug, like - (HE
ASSISTS, THE FISH ESCAPES)
 87

MABEL
Guess he knew where he was headed and
thought twice. Which is more than
what I’m doing at the moment.

FRANK
(PUTTING HIS ARM AROUND HER) Now,
you’re just not feeling settled,
that’s all. Not yet. You just need a
place that feels like home. Not just
a “sticking it out” type of place,
which is why you feel a bit funny at
the moment. We’ll get you sorted out,
don’t you worry.

JOE RUNS ON, CARRYING AN ARTIST’S SKELETON, WHICH HE PLACES IN

A POOL OF LIGHT.

JOE
Ken! Ken!
KEN LOOKS DOWN.
 88

KEN
Alright, I get the message. You need
a good meal... My shout. Or are you
sketching “en plein air”? Wouldn’t
have thought the light was right, but
what would I know about art? Hello.

*JOE
My landlady! Wonderful. Makes life
worth living. Roie Norton did a
midnight flit. She left some
paintings behind. Too big to carry.
Landlady goes in to clear out her
room. Out she comes, dead white.
“Right!” She’s screaming on the
landing. “That’s it. I’m kicking all
you artist types out!” I stick my
head out. The two blokes living
together on the first floor are
standing there trying to look
innocent. “No artists. I’m having no
artists here. That goes for you two
too.” “Come off it,” I say. “They’re
two poofs working the porcelain
department in Prouds. I hardly call
that being an artist.”
KEN
That was very sensitive of you.
 89

JOE
“I’ve got eyes,” she says. “They’ve
got a touch of the flamboyant in
them. Fancy shirts, scarves. I’ve got
eyes.” “Purquoi the pogrom?”

KEN
You said?

JOE
Yes. “That’s right,” she says. “Sling
off. I don’t want the shock I’ve had
this evening ever repeated ever
again. I’ve put up with that Roie
Norton witch woman - it’s one thing
to tolerate strange habits, it’s
another to deal with the stuff she
leaves behind.”

KEN
What was it? What did she leave?

JOE
“Those paintings. The filth in those
paintings.” (BIG BREATH) “Two naked
women and a big black dog. Go ahead
and have your smirk. All of yez, pay
up, you’re out by Friday. And you...”

KEN
You?

JOE
Yes. Yes! “I’ve been in your room,”
she says. “Don’t think I haven’t. I
didn’t come down in the last shower.
I know you’ve got a skeleton in your
cupboard.”

KEN
Where will you go? ...I suppose you’d
like me to mind him?...her?...it?...
 90

SPUD AND CORA BEGIN TO SNEAK OUT OF THEIR FLAT. THEY CARRY
SUITCASES. UNDERSCORING BEGINS.

CORA
Eh, Mrs O’Leary? Gawd hearing like a
bat. (SHE MOTIONS TO SPUD TO HIDE.
SHE SPEAKS TO MRS O’LEARY THROUGH A
DOORWAY) Yes, it’s me. Cora. Cora,
yes. Oh, Mrs O’Leary, do I look the
type to do a midnight flit?

CORA
(STILL CAUGHT AT THE DOORWAY) This?
(SUITCASE) My sister’s just had a
baby, I’ve been up embroidering for
weeks. Look I’d love to chat but I’ve
got to get to the hospital, the poor
kid hasn’t got a stitch to wear.
CORA
Is the rent overdue? Gawd my
husband’s absent-minded, we’ll get
you a couple of bottles of very nice
drain to make up for it. ...Ah, get
off your high horse you stupid old
bag.
 91

MOVING DAY AT MIDNIGHT

When it’s moving day at midnight,

And the boarders bolt their doors,
When the watchmen blink and the
gunmen wink,
And the Darlinghurst landlord snores,
Oh, it’s then that we climb from
windows
To take the moon for a ride,
Or fumble and drag at a Gladstone
bag,
With a couple of shirts inside.

There’s a rope from the second

storey,
There’s a phantom hand below,
But little of ghosts who slide down
posts
Does the soul of the landlord know;
O little he thinks of moonlight
And little he reeks of rent,
But he mutters and moans as he dreams
of loans
At a hundred and five per-cent.

For we go like Ancient Arabs,

Whenever the mood invites;
We haven’t a tent, but we don’t pay
rent -
Hooray for Arabian Nights!
 92

SILENCE. MABEL WALKS. SHE CAN HEAR FOOTSTEPS BEHIND HER. WHEN
SHE STOPS, THEY STOP.

MABEL
If Dad asks again, tell him I’m safe.
(SHE LOOKS BEHIND HER AND QUICKLY
ROUNDS A CORNER)

SUDDENLY CORA APPEARS, WALKING QUICKLY, LOOKING BEHIND HER.

SPUD
You bitch, Cora.

CORA
Shut your trap. Do you want the world
to know you’re a nut-case? Leave me
alone, I’m walking off my dinner.

SPUD CATCHES UP WITH HER AND GRABS HER ARM.

CORA
If you want to have a conversation
you let go. And get back. Further.
Alright - may I help you?

SPUD*
Honey, this is a big big haul. The
ship’s in in the morning, I need some
capital. Then that’ll be it.

CORA
What happened? The bottom fall out of
the suit market.

SPUD
I’ll ask you again, how much’ve you
got stashed?
 93

CORA
I’m laughing. I’m laughing.

SPUD
Why’d you go so pale when I said I
found it?

CORA
What do you think? I thought you
meant something else.

SPUD
(APPROACHING HER) What. What else?

CORA
Don’t make me tell. Alright. I
suppose I’ll have to. ...The
presentation pack of Minties I was
saving for your birthday.
SHE TURNS TO GO. HE PRODUCES HIS KNIFE. SHE MOVES ONLY A FEW
STEPS AND SHE TURNS TO SWIPE AT HIM.

CORA
Don’t follow me - (SHE CONNECTS WITH
HIS KNIFE, CUTTING HER HAND) Oh,
Christ. Christ. (SHE LOOKS AT HER
HAND, THEN AT HIM) Just for that I’m
keeping the Minties.

SPUD
Jesus.

HE BUNDLES HER AWAY.

 94

UNDERSCORING.

GENERAL MOVEMENT. FRANK AND MABEL LEAVE THE HARBOUR.

ROSE
(SEARCHING FOR A DOORWAY, WITH A BAG
IN WHICH SHE HAS SOME JEWELLERY) Why
in God’s name can’t an establishment
stay in one building for more than a
week? I’m all for change, but I can’t
find anything.

KEN AND FRANK AND MABEL ARE ON DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE STAGE.

ROSE
(TO HERSELF) Things change so
quickly, how are we meant to find
things. (SMILES AT KEN) I wonder.
(KEN NODS POLITELY AND KEEPS WALKING.
HE TURNS TO SEE FRANK AND MABEL HALT)
ROSE
Where is the bloody place?

MABEL
Um, what are you after?

FRANK
Gawd.

ROSE
There was a shop, a - what’s the word
- pawnbroker’s? Here for a while. It
was here last week.

FRANK
No. There’s never been one here love.
All well and truly over that way.
 95

ROSE
Oh, is that right? Well, I know! I
might just have to get rid of some
ballast. (OPENS PURSE. WE REALISE
THAT IT’S JEWELLERY) You’re very
pretty, I suppose he tells you that
all the time? The first item your
fingers touch...yours to keep.

MABEL
Oh, no thank you. Oh dear. They’re
your things.

ROSE
There are some very lovely pieces.
Someone’s family heirlooms, probably.

FRANK
You want to go home, someone’ll bump
you on the head.
ROSE
(TO MABEL) Why not? I’d like you to -

MABEL
If you’re upset or something - you
mustn’t give things away. We can walk
you home, you live near me, you’ve
got that car...

ROSE
God! Close your eyes -

FRANK
Look she doesn’t need any jewellery,
or whatever you’ve got. Buzz off.
 96

ROSE
Well, of course not. Not when she can
live on thin air and love. Am I
right? You very silly little girl. If
you think I’m mad for throwing away a
few bits of gold, you -

FRANK
Right.

FRANK TAKES HER ARM AND IS GOING TO HOLD HER WHILE MABEL
PASSES. MABEL CONTINUES TO LISTEN.

ROSE
Love is gentle, love is kind. Love is
all-forgiving - pull the other one.
I’ll tell you. The trip downwards is
not terribly pleasant.

FRANK
Come on!

ROSE
Pulls you down, seeps into your ears
until you can’t hear a thing. It -

FRANK
Mabel -

MABEL PASSES HER.

ROSE
You silly girl. You can’t eat love.

MABEL
Hope you find the - what you were
looking for...
 97

ROSE
(PAUSE) I really must reveal my true
identity - I’m actually a plain
clothes member of the Salvation Army,
sent out to minister to lost sheep.
Same time next week? I’ll bring you a
War Cry. Ha!

ROSE DISAPPEARS. JOE IS ON HIS LEDGE. KEN LOOKS UP AT HIM.

JOE
I’ve got this idea for a cartoon.

KEN
(REMEMBERING) There’s a man sitting
at the Gap, looking over the edge...

JOE
A copper approaches. “What’s up with
you digger?” “Everything. The wife’s
run off with a cobber of mine, the
shop’s gone to the pack, and I’ve
lost me false teeth.” “Go-orn,” says
the copper. “So, I’m going over the
Gap.” “Well, mate, you may well be,
but we’ll have a talk about it
first.” So they sat down and had a
talk about it. Then they both went
over the Gap.
JOE PLAYS.

KEN
You were sketching the Bridge being
built, and, you said, just as you
looked up, a workman fell.

JOE
He waved to me as he fell.
 98

KEN
In your mind. What sort of person
would wave as they fell?

MUSIC OR SOUND.

JOE
“Memories are hunting horns -

KEN
Whose sounds die on the wind.”

JOE
Ken, my memories are getting louder,
shrill. People I haven’t seen for
years come visiting. I wake up in a
panic because I can’t remember
anything that was said. Heroes, they
say, in moments of crisis hear
angels’ voices. Haven’t had those
yet.
MABEL
Tell Dad I’ve got a job. It’s in a
big store. I’m on trial for a while
and they say I’m real good. (TO
FRANK) And this morning they said to
come upstairs and fill out a
personnel form. My religion and where
I lived. Methodist was quite good,
but when I told her Kings Cross, she
went quiet. She asked me again, and I
told her again. Then she said, are
you sure? Then she said, this is most
embarrassing, this is a respectable
firm. Well, I’m respectable. Would I
be prepared to move? I said, no
thanks, I really like it there. Some
claptrap about it not being safe.
 99

FRANK
Cripes, you weren’t being very
bright.

MABEL
Suppose not.

FRANK
Weeks and weeks trying to find -
times are getting bad.

MABEL
I just didn’t think.

FRANK
And anyway you should watch yourself.
I’ve been meaning to talk to you. You
can’t just go walking wherever you
like.
MABEL
I don’t. I know what bad types look
like - they’re only out for each
other.

FRANK
Look, you’re very -

MABEL
You’re not my father.

FRANK
Now, Mabel...
 100

MABEL
Well, you’re not. And I’m not stupid.
(PAUSE) Just so long as you know,
that’s all.

THE SET IS BY NOW TRANSFORMED INTO CHOKER’S LANE. “CHOKER’S

LANE” PLAYS ON ACCORDION.

ROSE
(TO JOE) Would you answer a question
for me? Would you be so kind?

JOE
Of course. What...

ROSE
Am I invisible? Am I invisible? Did I
die and no one told me?

JOE
No, no. You’re right.

ROSE
Well, why won’t these crooked
bastards listen to me. Herbalists,
I’ll expose the lot of you.
Gentlemen, I am a regular customer.
You don’t realise this because I used
to be driven here in my...

CHOKER’S LANE MUSIC CONTINUES, SPUD HELPS CORA STRAP ON THE

SMITH AND WESSON.
 101

CORA
I don’t like the job, and I don’t
like this going off separate to
Katoomba either.

SPUD*
Sweetheart you just worry about your
reflexes. First sign of any trouble
you’re out in Choker’s Lane backing
me up. Of course there won’t be, and
afterwards it’s just better we clear
off separate. (HE ADJUSTS HIS TIE)
We’re cleaning up baby - the big boys
want that snow...

CORA
(THE GUN) I always hate this thing.

SPUD
Shuttup. Go on, off you go - just set
yourself up at the top of the Lane.
You look perfect - just another girl
on the game. A cinch.
CORA
Tomorrow. At the Three Bloody
Sisters. Gawd you better turn up.

SPUD
Baby.

KEN
You took to walking home via
Darlinghurst’s darkest streets, the
murkiest lanes in Woolloomooloo.
Testing your nerves. What are you
testing them for?
 102

CHOKER’S LANE

In Choker’s Lane the doors appear,

Like black and shining coffin lids,
Whose fill of flesh, long buried
here,
Familiar visiting forbids.
But sometimes when their bells are
twirled,
They’ll show, like Hades, through the
chink,
The green and watery gaslight world,
Where girls have faces white as zinc.

And sometimes thieves go smoothly

past
Or pad by moonlight home again
For even thieves come home at last,
Even thieves of Choker’s Lane.
And sometimes you can feel the breath
Of beasts decaying in their den -
The soft unhurrying teeth of Death
With leather jaws come tasting men.
 103

THE SONG IS UNDER THE FOLLOWING, LIKE A DISTANT PHONOGRAPH.

SOME MOVEMENT AMONG THE SHADOWY FIGURES. SPUD WALKS THROUGH, A
DUSTBIN LID FALLS. HE WAITS, SENSES SOMETHING GOING ON ABOUT
HIM. LOOKING THROUGH THE GLOOM, HE’S HOLDING HIS PARCEL. HE
HEARS A NOISE, THEN ANOTHER. HE REACHES FOR HIS GUN AND IS
SHOT IN THE ARM/HAND. HE EITHER DROPS HIS GUN, AND/OR
STRUGGLES TO GET IT OUT OF HIS COAT, AND LOOKS DESPERATELY
TOWARDS CORA FOR HELP. EITHER WAY HE IS NOT SUPPORTED BY CORA,
AND IS SHOT AGAIN.

CHOKER’S LANE

ROSE
And sometimes you feel the breath
Of beasts decaying in their den -
The soft unhurrying teeth of death,
With leather jaws come tasting men.
 104

FIVE BELLS MUSIC.

JOE
The leather jaws of death continue to
nibble at my father. Another letter.

KEN
...We argued about blowing up the
world,
But you were living backwards...
And they were living all of them,
those frames
And shapes of flesh that had
perplexed your youth,
And most your father, the old man
gone blind...
The graveyard mason...

JOE
He writes to me in pencil, he won’t
trust himself with an ink bottle.
KEN
That’s to be expected, he’s old.

JOE
I don’t know what to write back to
him. He is writing to tell me that
only now, at the end of his days,
does he realise that he has lived an
ordinary, a second-hand life. Carving
headstones for the dead.

KEN
He gave monuments to lives that
mightn’t otherwise have had one.
JOE
I don’t know what to write back.

KEN
He’s old, he might have even
forgotten that he’s written it.
 105

JOE*
God. To find something that would
change you utterly. Throw you, even
you, off balance.

SNOWDROPS MUSIC. ROSE IS CATCHING “LEAVES” FALLING FROM A

TREE. HER DESPERATION BUILDS. KEN AND JOE WATCH.

KEN
I know what she’s doing. A German
custom - if you catch ten leaves
before they hit the ground you get a
wish. (THEY WATCH) She’s nowhere near
it.

ROSE
Am I invisible, that’s all.
 106

SNOWDROPS

ROSE, KEN, JOE

The Snowdrop Girl in fields of
snowdrops walks,
Whiter than foam, deeper than waters
flowing,
Flakes of wild milk gone blowing,
Snowing on cloud stalks.
The Snowdrop Girl goes picking
flowers of snow,
Blossoms of darkness bubbling into
dreams,
In a strange country, by the shadowy
streams
Where the cruel petal of the Coke-
Tree grow.
From the smoke and the fume of a
backyard room,
Where proverty sits and gloats,
On runaway feet from a dirty street
To a field of snow she floats;
And tickets to hell have a curious
smell
And a dangerous crystal whiff
Where men hawk Death in a snowdrop’s
breath
At a couple of shillings a sniff.

JOE, KEN, ROSE

Snowdrop Girl in fields of snowdrops
dwells,
Whiter than graveyard stones,
Over her sleep there tosses
A wilderness of bells.
Oh, Snowdrop Girl, picking your
blossoms here,
The road grows dark and bitter
further on
Where other lonelier Snowdrop Girls
have gone,
Lost in the poisoned snow of
yesteryear.
Beware, beware those petals of air -
There’s never a flower in slums.
You’re caught in a cage, in a cage.
But wait ‘til the Snowman comes!

JOE, KEN, ROSE (cont.)

Then the arclights blaze as you walk
in a daze,
And the hags of the pavement grin,
And Snow, no doubt, will let you out,
But the grave will suck you in!
 107

TIME PASSES. CORA WALKS THROUGH.

KEN*
The night editor just asked me to
have a word with you, that’s -
(RUNNING AFTER JOE) Joe, wait! Wait!

JOE
Keep away from me, I’m contagious.

KEN
They think your cartoons are getting
too dark, too pessimistic, that’s
all.

JOE
Isn’t that remarkable? Everywhere I
look I see people chasing their own
tails, terrified that if they stop
averting their eyes they’ll know.
Know that they’re merely suspended
over nothingness, held by...What? A
thought, a whim? ...Merely suspended
over - nothingness. Very difficult to
etch your name in thin air. You know.
KEN
No. No, I don’t. I don’t know. Lay
off the grog. Do something.

UNDERSCORING.

CORA APPROACHES KEN. *SHE SEEMS DRUNK, DOPED... LOST...

CORA
Oi. Kenneth. Do you still see your
mate?

KEN
Hello. Yes. Yes.
 108

CORA
Yeah, well, you might like to say
hello to him for me. (PAUSE) Tell him
I’m well and truly on the straight
and narrow.

KEN
Is that right...Cora... well - he’ll
be pleased.

CORA
Away from all me old influences type
of thing.

KEN
Will I tell him what you’re doing?

CORA
*(LYING) Actually quite a lot of
mannequining. Quite a lot. Some very
well-to-do fashion joints. Something
I’ve always wanted...it’s good, I do
it all over the place. Lots of luck
in it, right time right place - you
know.

KEN
Well, that’s very good.

CORA
Oh yeah, it’s good alright.

KEN
I’ll pass on the message, then. Good
luck.

CORA
Yeah, of course, you can’t have too
much of that. My mother used to say,
“Luck’s never something run in our
family. ‘If it was raining palaces,
we’d be hit on the head by a dunny
door.’” Ta darling.
 109

KIMONO CORA

CORA
She wears a pearl necklace, her
rubies are reckless,
You’d never suspect they were
glass...
Sour perfume still lingers, there’s
dirt on her fingers,
And grease on the edge of her
shirt...

Kimono Cora’s come back.

Kimono Cora’s come back.
To her dirt and her debts and her
stale cigarettes,
And a pile of foul plates in her
track,
Well, stars are reflected in
quagmires
And wines don’t depend on the cup,
And Cora emerges in satins and
serges,
From mystery seven floors up.
Kimono Cora’s come back.
Kimono Cora’s come back.
And stars are reflected in quagmires
And wines don’t depend on the cup.
 110

FRANK AND MABEL.

FRANK
I read this cartoon, would’ve been a
good while back. It goes...the girl -
they’re courting on a farm, she’s
thinking of rings, she’s staring at
her ring finger, “How do you feel
about platinum?” He’s a real Dave,
gazing off into the paddock. “Well,”
he says, “It takes a lot of time, but
it sure makes their tails look nice.”
Well, Mabel...How do you feel about
platinum?

MABEL
(TURNING TO FACE HIM) Frank...

JOE IS HOLDING A JOURNAL.

JOE
Had a few things knocked off from my
room. Finding somewhere else.

KEN
Nothing wrong?

JOE
No. I’m off the grog.

KEN
What’s this?

JOE
Oh, bits and pieces. A few sketches
I’m fond of.
KEN
(TURNING PAGES) May I?
 111

FRANK
...I mightn’t seem like real good
prospects, I realise that, but I’ve
got my sights set. I’m going back to
make a go of it - you and I got
hitched, well...it’d make a lot of
sense. (PAUSE) By crikey I’ll look
after you. You won’t know yourself...
FRANK (cont.)
(PAUSE) You’re meant to say
something.

KEN
(READING) The lock’s been sawn off...

JOE
My dark old drinking days.

KEN
(READING) Ways to describe the Cross.
You don’t mind?
JOE
Go for your life.

KEN
“A golden egg was mysteriously laid,
and out we burst...
William Street, and Darlinghurst on
wet and shiny nights...”

JOE
“...People stepping on their own
reflections...”
MABEL
Frank, I wouldn’t be any good, you
want someone stable - not like me...
 112

FRANK
No. I want you.

MABEL
I’m not ready to go back, or
something. Maybe there’s something
wrong with me, but I’m sorry...I’m
not ready for a double harness
(MANAGES TO GET A SMILE OUT OF HIM)
I’m real sorry. Maybe you’re the
right fella, but -

FRANK
What, is it because I’m not flush.
You won’t want for a thing.

MABEL
It’s got nothing to do with that.
FRANK
You want me to wait or something.

MABEL
No Frank, I’m sorry.

FRANK
Right, well I imagine I’ll head up
home. Actually might all work out for
the best. Girl in the Star Cafe back
home’s been pestering me with letters
just lately, hadn’t thought about her
for a while, but - any rate, probably
all just as well. Look after
yourself.
MABEL
Look after yourself, Frank.
 113

JOE
Could you hang onto it for a bit?
(THE JOURNAL) Just until I’m settled?

KEN
Well, yes. “She clings to the tatters
of uncomformity. The Cross was - was?
- safe and beautiful and she loved us
...The red pulsating arrow, top o’
William Street...”

JOE
Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.

MABEL IS BACK UP AT HER FLAT. SHE WATCHES FRANK WHO IS ABOUT

TO LEAVE. UNDERSCORING. FRANK TAKES OUT CHALK. WRITES ON THE
GROUND. “I WAS HERE”.

KEN WATCHES, HOLDING JOE’S JOURNAL. JOE DISAPPEARS.

(KEN MOVES DS - SEE WHAT FRANK HAS WRITTEN.)

KEN
(READS FROM JOURNAL) “Brassy and
respectable, a refuge for a wound-
licking...” *(READS THE FLOOR) “I
was here.”
 114

MABEL
(WRITING) You see, the day I arrived
here I knew I was in a special place
at a special time, and that if I
turned round it’d all disappear. I’ve
never felt in the centre of anything
before, and now I am. (SHE LOOKS
DOWN) I could fly to work I’m that
close. I’d be happy if it went on and
on forever, I would.

Five stories down, a fiery hedge,

The stars of Sydney loom,
But the stars burn on the window
ledge
Up in Mabel’s Room.

There Mr Neon’s nebulae

Are constantly on view,
The starlight falls entirely free,
The moon is always blue.

A burning sword, a blazing spear,

Go floating down the night,
And flagons of electric beer,
And alphabets of light.

The moon and stars of Choker’s lane,

Like planets lost in fume,
But you - you’ll never see these
things
Up in Mabel’s room...
 115

MUSIC. FIVE BELLS. JOE SLOWLY FILLS HIS COAT POCKETS WITH BEER
BOTTLES.

JOE
Come to the party. We’re taking the
last ferry to Mosman. Very literati,
possibly lunatici. Topic for the
evening is...humorous battle cries of
Imperial Rome. Come on.

KEN
No, I don’t think so. You didn’t
invite me. Not like that.

JOE
Come on!

KEN
Wait! (PAUSE) You were just sitting
on the rail, with your pockets full
of bottles? Did you say you could
swim there faster? Why try to swim
with...

JOE
Come on.

KEN
You won’t make it to the quay, it’s
nearly ten.

JOE
I knew you wouldn’t. Loan me the cab-
fare.
KEN
What? No.

JOE
Just five bob. Undo!

KEN
(AS HE DOES SO) No.
 116

JOE
Just for that I’ll wave to you when
we round the point. I’ll see you in
your window and wave. (AS HE GOES)
This is a land meant for great poetry
- one day you’ll surprise yourself.

KEN
Why are you telling me this now?

JOE
Because you’re not coming to the
party.

JOE LEAVES. MUSIC. HE STANDS IN THE HARBOUR.

KEN
Was it what you expected? Was it a
surprise when...when you...hit the
water?
The memory of some bones, shoved away
and sucked away in mud.

Where have you gone?

The tide is over you,
As time is over you,
And memory, the flood that does not
flow,
And you are only part of an Idea.

THE HARBOUR BEGINS TO BE LIT. THE LIGHTS OF THE CROSS, OF

MABEL’S ROOM, TAKE OUR ATTENTION, TAKE KEN’S ATTENTION.
 117

JOE WAVES. MUSIC.

KEN
I felt the wet push its black
thumbballs in,
The night you died, I felt your ear-
drums crack,
...But I was bound, and could not go
that way
...But I was blind, and could not
feel your hand.

THE LIGHTS OF DARLINGHURST DISAPPEAR.

(SUNG)
I looked out of my window in the dark
At waves with diamond quills and
combs of light
That arched their mackerel backs and
smacked the sand
...And tried to hear your voice, but
all I heard
Was a boat’s whistle, and the
scraping squeal
Of seabirds voices far away, and
bells,
Five bells. Five bells coldly ringing
out.

THE END