The Mousetrap

(GERARD moves to the lift and waits. GENEVRA looks at GERARD. The lift descends and the door opens. SARAH KING enters from the lift. She is an attractive, decided-looking girl of twenty-three. She passes GERARD, hesitates, then smiles at him. GERARD bows.)

GERARD. How do you do?

SARAH. I’m so pleased to see you. I never thanked you for helping me the other night at the station in Cairo.

GERARD. That was nothing—a pleasure. You are enjoying Jerusalem, Miss—er . . . ?

SARAH. King—Doctor Sarah King.

GERARD. (Gaily) Ah, we are colleagues. (He takes a card from his pocket and hands it to her.) Doctor Gerard.

SARAH. Colleagues? (She looks at the card.) Doctor Theodore Gerard. Oh. (Reverently) Are you the Doctor Gerard? But yes, you must be.

GERARD. I am Doctor Theodore Gerard. So, as I say, we are colleagues.

SARAH. Yes, but you’re distinguished and I am only starting.

GERARD. (Smiling) Oh, well, I hope it will not be like your English proverb—wait a minute so that I get it right. (Slowly) “Doctors differ and patients die.”

SARAH. Fancy your knowing that! Just as well we haven’t any patients. Have you just come in on the afternoon train?

GERARD. Yes. With a very important English lady. (He grimaces) Lady Westholme. Since God is not in Jerusalem, she is forced to put up with the King Solomon Hotel.

SARAH. (Laughing) Lady Westholme is a political big bug. In her own eyes at any rate. She’s always heckling the Government about housing or equal pay for women. She was an undersecretary or something—but she lost her seat at the last election.

GERARD. Not the type that interests you?

SARAH. No—but—(She drops her voice and draws GERARD up Left) there’s someone over there who does. Don’t look at once. It’s an American family. They were on the train with me yesterday. I talked to the son.

(GERARD looks at LENNOX)

Not that one—a younger one. He was rather nice. Extraordinary-looking old woman, isn’t she? Her family seem absolutely devoted to her.

GERARD. (In a low voice) Possibly because they know she will not long be with them. You recognized the signs?

SARAH. How long would you give her?

GERARD. Perhaps six months—who knows? You will have a drink?

SARAH. Not now. (She glances at her watch.) I’ve got to call for a parcel at one of the shops. I must hurry. (She gives him a friendly nod.) Another time.

(SARAH crosses and exits quickly up Right. GERARD looks after her a moment, then turns to the CLERK.)

GERARD. Cinzano à l’eau, please. (He moves down Left, then crosses slowly below the table Centre to Right, glancing as he passes at the bookLENNOXis holding. He sits in the chair down Right, and opens his newspaper, covertly studying the BOYNTONS.)

(The CLERK claps his hands. The ARAB BOY enters up Left. The CLERK gives him GERARD’s order. The ARAB BOY exits up Left. GINEVRA raises her head and watches GERARD. Her fingers twist and tear her handkerchief.)

MRS. BOYNTON. (Her voice sudden and deep) Ginevra you’re tired.

(GINEVRA jumps.)

You’d better go and rest.

GINEVRA. I’m not tired, Mother. I’m not really.

MRS. BOYNTON. Yes, you are. I always know. I don’t think—(She pauses) I don’t think you’ll be able to do any sightseeing tomorrow.

(The lift door closes and the lift ascends.)

GINEVRA. Oh, but I shall. (Vehemently) I’m quite all right.

MRS. BOYNTON. No, you’re not. (With slow relish) You’re going to be ill.

GINEVRA. (Rising; hysterically) I’m not. I’m not.

MRS. BOYNTON. Go up and lie down.

GINEVRA. I’m not going to be ill. I don’t want to be ill.

MRS. BOYNTON. I always know.

NADINE. I’ll come up with you, Jinny.

MRS. BOYNTON. No, let her go up alone.