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by/(c) Darren Izzard 1997-8
Characters:-
| MARK | (SANDRA's husband. An insufferable snob. He hired FOULD) |
| SANDRA | (MARK’s wife. Shares his bad attitude.) |
| FOULD | (builder, hired by MARK) |
Locations:-
| Living room. | (being converted into an office) |
| Basement. | |
| Kitchen. |
1. The living room.
--An average living room in an average suburban house. What furniture there is, is covered in dust sheets.
--There is a section of wall jutting out from the side of the room, around five feet long and three feet wide, extending from the floor to the ceiling. It is prominent but not excessively obtrusive.
--SANDRA is standing in the room, looking somewhat nervous. Enter MARK and FOULD. FOULD looks around critically.
FOULD: So this is going to be an office?
MARK: Oh, just a place where I can get some work done. Not full of staff and photocopiers.
FOULD: I suppose I can see that working.
SANDRA: Is this..?
MARK: [to SANDRA] Sorry, this is Mr. Fould.
FOULD: Morning, love.
SANDRA: Hello.
FOULD: [to MARK] What am I here for exactly?
MARK: I want to put my desk next to the window where the light is, but the positioning of the gas fire stops that.
FOULD: I can't move the fire for you. If you want that, you'd better call the gas board.
MARK: No, I want you to take this down.
--MARK motions to the jutting-out section. FOULD walks round it and views it from a couple of angles.
FOULD: It's a bit wide.
MARK: In what way?
FOULD: Look, it's a clear three feet thick. Are you sure there aren't pipes or wires in there?
MARK: I don't think so. I checked the house plans and nothing showed up.
FOULD: Well, then, I suppose it must be solid brick or something. Must be supporting. [puts ear to wall and taps it] Doesn't sound solid though.
MARK: Does this mean you won't take it down?
FOULD: Might not be able to. Tell you what I can do, I'll open it out a bit and we'll see what's in there. I don't want to go too mad though, just in case.
SANDRA: Is there any danger of the house collapsing?
FOULD: Nah, I'll just make a little hole, shine my torch in and have a look. I'd put a lintel on it anyway.
MARK: What would happen if it did look dangerous?
FOULD: Like I said, I'd put a lintel on it and fill it in again. No problem.
MARK: Alright. Can you start right away?
FOULD: Soon as you like. Just got to fetch a couple of things from the van.
--Exit FOULD.
SANDRA: [mocks] "Morning, love."
MARK: Sorry Sandra.
SANDRA: I don't even let you say things like that.
MARK: Well, he's all I could afford after that computer. What do you expect?
SANDRA: But, Mark, are you absolutely sure you can trust him?
MARK: Don't worry, I'll count the silver when he's gone.
SANDRA: Don't mess about, you know what I mean. Do you think he knows what he's talking about?
MARK: I don't know. In a way, I have this reckless feeling which tells me to just let him get on with it, and if the roof comes down on us to sue him senseless. Your sister does work at that solicitor's after all.
SANDRA: Is this how you always act when someone asks you a question you don't like?
MARK: Look, it's my house. I just want him to do the job and go. I mean, it's not personal. Tearing things out and getting dust everywhere? It's messy work.
SANDRA: Then why bring him in at all?
MARK: I don't want the responsibility of ruining my own house. It's worth paying someone else to take that off my shoulders.
SANDRA: Did you get that quote from him?
MARK: That's easy enough to rectify. I'll get it now.
SANDRA: Make sure you get the washing up done too.
MARK: Alright, I'll do that afterwards.
--Exit MARK. SANDRA sits on a dust-sheet-covered chair.
2. Kitchen.
--MARK is washing up. Enter FOULD with a sledge-hammer.
FOULD: Milk and two sugars, love.
MARK: I beg your pardon?
FOULD: Just a joke, mate.
MARK: You're here to get the job done, not make jokes.
FOULD: No need for that sort of attitude.
MARK: Look... Isn't it about time you got to work?
FOULD: Going to do it right this very minute.
MARK: That's what I'm paying you for.
--Exit FOULD. Enter SANDRA.
SANDRA: Hasn't he started yet?
MARK: "Right this very minute," it seems.
SANDRA: I still don't like him.
MARK: Just grow up, Sandra.
SANDRA: Grow up? It you - you have no common sense. And no assertiveness. You just let people walk all over you.
MARK: In what way?
SANDRA: You should go in there and tell him to work, not just whine about it like you do.
MARK: Look, I didn't feel like arguing with him when he was carrying that hammer.
--A loud banging sound starts.
MARK: There, he's started.
--The banging stops.
SANDRA: And now he's stopped.
MARK: If you're so concerned, just go out there and look for yourself. Don't just sit here and moan at me. I've got dirty plates to scrub. [scrubs plate harder]
SANDRA: All right, I'll go.
--As SANDRA turns to leave, enter FOULD.
FOULD: Sorry, bursting in, didn't want to interrupt anything.
SANDRA: What, like the work you're supposed to be doing? Why did you stop?
FOULD: Ah, well, I've found something odd in your wall.
SANDRA: Odd?
FOULD: Might be a pipe or something, I'm not sure.
--MARK puts down washing-up.
MARK: Does this mean we can't take it down?
FOULD: Don't know yet.
SANDRA: What did you find?
FOULD: It's something - solid, I don't know what.
MARK: You don't know what? Exactly how much experience do you have? Can't you look, or check the plans or something?
SANDRA: I knew it'd be any excuse for a tea break.
FOULD: Tea break? I just don't want to mess anything up, specially when I don't even know what it is.
MARK: Do you want us to look?
FOULD: I think you'd better.
3. Living room.
--Enter MARK and SANDRA followed by FOULD.
MARK: This had better be serious.
FOULD: It is, I'm telling you.
SANDRA: Is it safe?
FOULD: The hole is. Don't know about the innards.
--SANDRA crosses to hole in wall and looks inside.
MARK: Could it be some sort of game we're playing here? Guess what Mr Fould has put in the wall and if we lose he raises his bill.
SANDRA: I told you he'd want more money.
FOULD: No! What's the matter with you? Do I look like a crook, eh?
MARK: You're not getting any more than your quote, at any rate.
FOULD: [pause] You've got a real problem, you know that? I mean, you're the one who wanted me to come here, then I get all this grief. You're a snob. If you wanted some builder who'd been educated at Eton you should have said so on the phone.
SANDRA: Mark! There IS something in here!
MARK: What? Show me.
FOULD: See? I'm not making it up.
SANDRA: Something... the light's catching it slightly.
FOULD: You people make me sick. You think we're all liars. Just trying to make a living, that's all I'm doing, mate.
SANDRA: I can't quite make it out.
MARK: [to FOULD] Can't you just carry on and take it out later?
FOULD: I'm not doing that! Could be a nest or something.
MARK: A nest?
FOULD: Insects, rats, whatever. They get into the walls and breed there. Snakes even.
MARK: Do snakes make nests in walls? Anyway, I thought you said it was a pipe.
FOULD: That was only a guess.
SANDRA: I'm not an expert, but I don't think this is rats or snakes. [pulls some loose plaster back] Turn on the light.
--MARK turns on the light.
SANDRA: It's very shiny. Hang on, I can even see my face in it.
FOULD: I don't like the sound of that. Probably bees or something, covered in honey.
SANDRA: It doesn't smell like honey.
--MARK moves to hole and looks through.
MARK: Can't see any bees either. Looks like silver to me. [to FOULD] Come over here and open this out a little - but do try to minimise the damage.
--FOULD levers out small sections of plaster with an iron bar until he has a hole large enough to see what's inside.
FOULD: What IS this? I've never seen anything like it. I mean, what IS it?
--SANDRA once again peers through the hole.
SANDRA: It looks like some sort of sculpture. Glass.
MARK: You are joking.
SANDRA: No, seriously, look. It’s like a glass helmet... from a medieval suit of armour. With a visor and everything. It’s beautiful.
FOULD: I’ve read about these things. They find glass skulls in this ancient ruins with curses on them. I don’t want anything to do with it.
MARK: So it’s a skull?
SANDRA: No, just this helmet. I can’t see if there’s... yes, it looks like it’s a whole suit of armour, all made out of glass.
MARK: A what? What’s it doing in there?
SANDRA: I don’t know, but I want to get it out and polished up. It looks very dusty.
MARK: [to FOULD] Could you get the rest of that wall down, please?
FOULD: Oh, "please" is it now? Different when you want something, isn't it. Anyhow, it sounds weird to me. I don't want to be involved if you’re going to lift out somebody's grave.
MARK: Don’t be so stupid. Who said anything about a grave?
FOULD: OK, then, if you're so clever, you explain it then.
SANDRA: It was night. A museum... a country house. Lord and Lady X are asleep in their four-poster bed; the floor below, their priceless and world-renowned collection of antique glassware. Suddenly downstairs a window breaks and burglar Bob leaps in. He glances around and his eye falls on a beautiful glistening suit of armour.
MARK: Yes, and but it’s so well known that he can’t sell it, so he gets his construction worker friends to hide it in a new house. Simple.
FOULD: Oh, typical. Couldn't be anyone else could it? Once again you blame the builders.
MARK: Well, how else did it get here?
FOULD: I don't know. But anyway I thought you said this bit of wall was in your house plans, so the architect or whatever must have been involved. Besides, I still don’t like it.
MARK: Oh, what do you think it’s going to do? Jump out at you? Rip out your windpipe?
FOULD: Well, if it did, all I know is I’ve got a wife and kids to look after.
SANDRA: I’m sure your wife is perfectly capable of handling herself without you. In fact, judging from the way you’re acting, she’ll probably do considerably better.
FOULD: I don't tell you how to run your life, do I?
MARK: I knew I should have done this myself.
--MARK takes FOULD’s crowbar and starts levering and battering more bits of wall out.
SANDRA: You were the one who wanted to waste all his money on builders.
FOULD: Right, that's it, I've had enough.
MARK: If this statue, or whatever it is, is worth something, then we’ll more than recoup our expenses. Might even pay for that computer.
FOULD: Yeah, well don't forget my bill. And I won't charge extra for the insults. Goodbye and good luck. [turns to leave]
MARK: You stay here - I might want you again in a minute. One of you take this.
--MARK lifts the glass helmet out of the hole in the wall. SANDRA takes it from him. FOULD leans away as if she's holding a venomous snake. MARK carries on with his crowbar. SANDRA puts the helmet on the dust-sheeted table and rubs some of the dust off it with her hand.
SANDRA: This is incredible.
MARK: It looks like the suit is complete.
SANDRA: Do you think we’ll be able to get it out of there?
MARK: I have no idea. Maybe it all comes apart and we’ll be able to re-assemble it. Fould, give me a hand here, this is difficult.
FOULD: You think I'd help you after everything you've said?
MARK: I'm sorry, OK? Just help me move all this out of the way.
--FOULD hesitantly steps forward.
SANDRA: Go on!
FOULD: Look, just give me a moment to get ready.
MARK: No need to be so melodramatic about it. Deeds not words, you know?
--FOULD takes his sledgehammer and knocks a bit out of the plaster.
MARK: Careful! You’ll smash it.
FOULD: You try being careful with one of these. [waves the sledgehammer in MARK's face]
MARK: Try to keep to the corners of the wall.
SANDRA: [picks up helmet] I’m going to put this in the basement. If you can get the rest of it out, bring it down as well.
FOULD: Alright, love.
--Exit SANDRA. FOULD aims for the corners.
FOULD: That woman suits you, you know. However did you find her?
MARK: Sandra? I took her to restaurants, bought her flowers, brushed my teeth, put deodorant in all the right places, and I never once called her ‘love.’
FOULD: [sneers] I'd never have guessed, chief.
MARK: She never called me 'chief' either.
--MARK grabs something in the wall.
MARK: I think I’ve got hold of the breastplate. If you take the other side, I think we’ll be able to lift it out.
--FOULD reluctantly takes the other side and they do lift it out.
MARK: See, no need for all that superstitious nonsense. You touched it and you’re still alive.
FOULD: Yeah? Well watch out, Julius. Your Ides of March will come, believe me.
MARK: In that case you'll kindly keep an eye out so it doesn’t stab me. Now, are you planning to help me with the rest of this?
FOULD: I wasn't talking about the armour.
4. The basement.
--A basement! Twi-lit by a single unshaded light-bulb with a table and a chair.
--SANDRA is sitting on the chair. Almost all the parts of the armour are sitting on the table.
SANDRA: What a puzzle you are. Pieces all over the place. Someone took a lot of care making you. How did they do it? Chiselling would break the glass. Moulding, polishing, how? And I can’t help wondering why. Were you made for some special reason? For a king? Some religious ceremony? Magic, even? The things you could be... And even then we wouldn’t know how you found your way inside the fabric of our house. I know you have stories to tell. Hundreds. You can tell me, I won’t let on. [leans forward conspiratorially] Come on, what are you?
--Enter FOULD and MARK, jointly carrying the rest of the glass armour. SANDRA is absorbed in her own thoughts.
MARK: Head up, Sandra.
SANDRA: Sorry, I was miles away.
--MARK puts his pieces on the table with the others. FOULD is having some difficulty.
MARK: This is all of it. We’ve gone down to the floor and there’s nothing left inside the wall.
FOULD: I should have had special training for this. Give us a hand, one of you, I can’t hold all this.
MARK: Make an effort, Fould, it’s only a metre or so.
--FOULD struggles and dumps what he was carrying on the table almost hard enough to break it.
MARK: Be careful!
FOULD: I’m telling you this, I’m going home now. I hope I'll still be breathing tomorrow. [feels his spine] And that my back hasn’t broken in two.
MARK: You need some exercise. I don’t know how you’ve made your living up until now, but it evidently wasn’t through manual labour.
FOULD: Now look here, I can work as hard as the next man, but this is something else. I really wish I hadn’t come here today. I tell you that quite openly. I wish I hadn't turned up.
SANDRA: You should watch what you say. For all we know this could be Aladdin’s suit of armour.
FOULD: That was one fairy tale they never told me.
MARK: Of course, we have yet to begin the task of re-assembly.
FOULD: Oh, no, no, I’m going home now. Like I said. I’ll get my tools and I hope more than anything I won’t lay eyes on either of you as long as I live. [to armour] And you're even worse.
--Exit FOULD.
MARK: I’m really not sure I like his attitude.
SANDRA: Sometimes I’m not sure if I like yours either.
MARK: Meaning?
SANDRA: You can be so incredibly self-centered at times.
MARK: You said you didn’t trust Mr. Fould too!
SANDRA: It’s not just him. Whenever you get tired, you turn on anyone who catches your eye. [pause] You know you do. [pause] Oh, I can’t concentrate on all this. There’s just too much to think about. You know I need space to think.
MARK: Don’t flatter yourself, your brain isn’t that big.
SANDRA: Don't be so childish. I think you should get some sleep.
--Exit SANDRA.
--MARK picks up glass helmet and looks at it.
MARK: This sort of thing... I never thought of something like this turning up. Let alone in my house! I just hope Lord X in his stately home is willing to put money on the table to get you back. You’ll pay more than a few debts.
--MARK puts it down again. Exit MARK.
5. Kitchen.
--For the record, next day. MARK is collecting some polishing materials and has a camera hung round his neck.
--Enter SANDRA.
SANDRA: You’ve done a very good job down there.
MARK: To be honest, I’m not entirely sure if all the pieces are in the right place or not. They fit together adequately, but I really should have taken notes as we were dismantling it yesterday. Still needs polishing, of course.
SANDRA: Try not to get too rough with it. What are you going to do with the camera?
MARK: I want to take some insurance photographs. They should also be helpful for advertising when I’m ready to sell.
SANDRA: So you’ve decided it’s all yours. You’re not going to try to find the original owners?
MARK: As far as I’m concerned, when I bought the house, I bought the statue with it, ergo it’s mine.
SANDRA: The estate agent never mentioned it. And what if it turns out to be stolen property?
MARK: That is hardly my problem. [checks what he’s carrying] I think that will be enough. If you think of anything I might need, drop it down to me, would you? Thanks, love... [SANDRA glares] You know, you really are a snob!
--Exit MARK.
6. The basement.
--The glass armour is standing fully-assembled in the middle of the room, dusty with fingerprint marks all over it, but otherwise intact.
--Enter MARK with the things he took from the kitchen.
--MARK starts polishing the armour. Initially he is quite gentle, but the dust proves hard to shift and he gets rougher. The armour shakes wildly but does not break.
MARK: Come on, if you’re so mysterious, why can’t you clean yourself? At this rate I’ll have to bring down the sandpaper and go over you with that.
--There is the sound of a doorbell.
MARK: Who’s that? [calls] Sandra, can you get that? [continues polishing, talks to armour] If that’s someone looking for you, then tell them you’re unavailable. Of course, I’ll have to get you properly valued before I can get you insured... mind you, if you’re worth as much as I hope, the premiums could cripple me.
SANDRA: [calls from the kitchen] Mark, can you come up here for a minute?
MARK: Is it really that important? [no answer] Obviously it is. [to armour] You wait here and don’t get up to anything.
--MARK puts/throws down what he is carrying. Exit MARK.
--The armour re-settles, and visibly shines, reflecting and refracting the light around it.
7. The kitchen.
--FOULD and SANDRA are in here.
--Enter MARK.
MARK: Oh, good afternoon. I didn’t expect you to come back.
FOULD: I wasn’t going to, to start with. But I just kept thinking about that glass thing last night, couldn’t get any sleep, and I thought, you know you said the house plans had that jutting bit in the wall? Well, the architects or designers must have known about this statue or they wouldn’t have put it there.
MARK: Give yourself a medal.
SANDRA: He’s got a point, Mark. If you find out their telephone number, you could ask them--
MARK: So you still want me to find these "original owners" of yours.
SANDRA: Yes, I do, but even if you don’t do that, they might be able to give you some idea of what it is, or at least the reason it was put there.
FOULD: Well, this man here ain't so stupid, because I phoned them up first thing this morning. They claimed they didn't know anything about it.
MARK: There it is then. It's ours to love and cherish forever.
FOULD: Hey, not so fast. I went on to that antique shop in the town. To see if they'd heard anything about this sort of thing.
MARK: [on the verge of exploding] Mr Fould, that was none of your business!
FOULD: And they had.
MARK: I'll never be able to sell it now!
SANDRA: What had they heard? Is it valuable?
FOULD: That's just it. They've only ever heard of one of those glass armour suits, and that was made in... where was it... [fumbles in his pockets and pulls out a bit of paper, and reads it] oh, it's some place in Germany. I might say it wrong, because I can't speak German...
MARK: [interrupts] Typical. Give it here, let me see.
FOULD: No, no. I haven't finished. It was made for some exhibition, and was brought over to England for this museum place. Yeah, Axtenton National Glass Museum.
SANDRA: I remember my parents talking about that. It burned down, didn't it?
FOULD: That's right. In very suspicious circumstances. All the glass pieces were destroyed. At least they should have been, except for the suit of armour. No trace of it was ever found.
MARK: [frustrated] Get on with it, Fould.
FOULD: [slower] I am, in my own time. Well, this antiques place reckoned their prize exhibit was stolen and then someone had burnt the place down. But you see, there was no evidence, and no-one was caught.
SANDRA: So it is stolen then.
MARK: It might not be. He said they'd only heard of one suit of armour. There may have been more.
FOULD: True. It's only a theory. But anyway, this made me think of something else. The owners of the Glass Museum are still around, and I phoned them up too...
--Suddenly, a smoke alarm goes off.
MARK: What’s that?
SANDRA: The smoke alarm!
MARK: You’re not making toast again? Or sausages. I’ve told you about that--
SANDRA: No, can’t you smell it?
FOULD: Yeah, you’re right.
--Exit MARK, running.
SANDRA: [calls after him] Where are you going? Mark!
FOULD: Look, love, we’d better get out. I’ll call 999... where’s your phone?
SANDRA: It’s alright, we’ve got a cellular. Let’s go, come on.
--Enter MARK, covered in soot.
MARK: It’s the basement! It’s all burning! I managed to get this out. [presents glass helmet] If we hurry we might be able to get some more.
SANDRA: You idiot! You'll be killed!
MARK: Come on, let's get down there and get it all!
FOULD: I'm not dying for you!
MARK: It's worth more than you are! [FOULD is about to hit MARK]
SANDRA: Let's just go!
--Exit SANDRA, FOULD shortly followed by MARK with helmet.
8. The living room.
--Next day. Smoke damage. MARK and SANDRA are sitting down with the helmet.
MARK: If only I'd turned that basement light off.
SANDRA: You wouldn't have known.
MARK: But glass focuses light! I could feel how hot it was when I grabbed the helmet.
SANDRA: How could you possibly have guessed it would set the basement on fire?
--Sound of the doorbell.
SANDRA: I'll get that.
MARK: Fould again, I'll bet.
--Exit SANDRA. There is sound of a short discussion between her and a man at the door. She returns holding a sealed letter.
SANDRA: Registered delivery.
MARK: What is it?
SANDRA: [opens it and reads address] Oh dear. It's the Axtenton National Glass Museum Trust.
MARK: Oh, why did he have to call them?
SANDRA: Because he has principles, unlike you. Now, what does it say? "It has come to our attention that you are in the possession of an item that was stolen from the Museum in 1962. We would naturally like this to be returned."
MARK: They can have 15% of it. [holds up the helmet]
SANDRA: "We must remind you that it is extremely fragile and valuable, and cannot take responsibility for damages incurred while it is in your care. You therefore must be liable for any such damages, and will be required to pay for any restoration or repair costs."
MARK: But the fire!
SANDRA: "This includes breakages..." [mumbles, scanning down the letter quickly] "and also fire damage."
MARK: They can't blame us for that, surely?
SANDRA: "The work was last valued at one and a quarter million pounds, but its value will undoubtedly have risen since then. It is also completely irreplaceable." So much for the office conversion.
MARK: So much for the house and the car.
SANDRA: You know, he was right after all.
MARK: Who was right? About what?
SANDRA: Your man, Fould. When we were getting it out of the wall.
MARK: What?
SANDRA: He said it was cursed.
--SANDRA takes the helmet from MARK and throws it at the wall. It shatters.
--Curtain down.
--THE END.
