Misha Williams



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 44 
 
She retreats to the kitchen. 
 
NINA 
I'm only saying this out of a mother's love, dear. Your 
best friends won't tell you the truth, but a devoted 
mother will. Perhaps you don't have any friends here, 
being so far away from civilization. Where are we? 
Cumberland? You do live like monks here, the two of 
you.  Well I'm not used to living a monastic life. It is 
very frugal here. I had a cucumber sandwich for 
supper. That's all Ruth offered me. How do you 
survive? Well I shall be returning to boarding house life 
next week. It is not that bad. The food can be quite 
good and this place is in Brighton which is full of 
fascinating people to talk to. I may find someone 
interested in another rescue attempt…. I know they're 
both still alive… despite what most people say. I know
And there are yet more, willing to lay down their lives 
to search for Puggy. The Royal Geographical  Society 
forwards their letters weekly! Why don't you have 
another go? That air search of yours the Daily Mail 
financed was not thorough . A really devoted son would 
try again.  I'm sure you could find them . If you 
wanted to. But you're not that interested are you? You 
have too much to do here. Gardening. Growing your 
sprouts etc. Oh, well. I don't want to nag. I think I'll go 
to bed. There's an interesting talk on the wireless. I 
won't have it on loud. Sleep well dear. Ruth may be 
unattractive but at least she's better than that last 
wife. Charlotte, was it? God, she was a bitch. Never did 
a stroke around the house. Oh well. You're slightly 
better off now. Goodnight. 
 
BRIAN 
Goodnight, mother. 
 
NINA leaves. 
 
BRIAN 
Charlotte. Charlotte. I'm sorry I ever introduced you to 
Mother. And I'm sorry you had to be sacrificed.  
 


 45 
BRIAN goes to his precious cupboard and gets out a certain volume of 
his journal.  He finds a particular page. 
 
BRIAN 
"Charlotte had said she was going to try and have a 
baby if it killed her". I was outside the operating room. 
Afterwards I said to the doctor "I heard her pitiful 
moaning". "But she never made a sound the whole 
time" he replied. "She was unconscious from the start 
and never recovered consciousness". 
I couldn't accept the end. I was determined to 
celebrate her birthday the following week. I put on 
Charlotte's little gramophone and played the old dance 
records. They just tore my heart. So vividly did it bring 
back memories of parties long forgotten. I almost 
heard the swish of my Charlotte's long dress. I could 
almost breathe her perfume and feel her warm body as 
I danced with her in my arms. No, I had nothing in my 
arms as I danced. But I held her three beloved rings 
and her silver bracelet. I saw the imaginary guests off 
at the front gate and said to my beloved shade "Well it 
was a darned good party, my sweetheart. I think 
everybody enjoyed it". We sat a while staring at the 
embers of the dead fire and then went up to bed. Did I 
love her in sleep? Maybe… 
 
He puts back the journal and slams the cupboard door. 
 
BRIAN 
 
            Charlotte's departure was one of the divine   
arrangements that had to be made so that my quest 
could proceed. Mother would never understand my 
life's dedication to the Fawcett saga or my unique 
protection of Daddy and his secret fate. I have 
important work to do for the powers that be. The 
distractions of doing it while married to a woman I 
deeply loved would not have permitted me to do it 
properly. So I lost the only thing I ever loved. But also, 
I had to understand what I must transmit. The "lesson" 
of death had to be learnt from personal experience. 
Now the work will be done. And if I am to be the 
"mouthpiece" of the Gods, then the honour is indeed 
great. 


 46 
 
The lights dim except for a spotlight on BRIAN'S face. 
 
BRIAN 
And so to bed. Mother in her room. Still up, listening to 
the loathsome voice of the BBC. I only hope her visit 
will leave us with some dregs of sanity. 
In the bathroom, the sight of Mother's false teeth on 
the basin, terrified me. The teeth were not content at 
just grinning. They actually snapped at me. Luckily I 
was able to jump out of the way in time. But I'm 
terrified the teeth may find their way into my room at 
night and bite me to death in my sleep.  
 
Blackout. 
 
 
 
SCENE FIFTEEN. THE STAGE.   
 
An audition in progress. "FAWCETT" comes in, hands full, holding a 
polystyrene cup of tea, a script and a full plastic carrier bag with a 
baguette sticking out of it. He puts some of it down and shields his eyes 
trying to see into the auditorium. He looks like the real Fawcett but has a 
camp, Larry Grayson northern accent. 
 
 
"FAWCETT" 
Anybody there?… Oh, yeah. There you are. Where do 
you want me, Mr. Director? 
 
ALBERT replies from the back of the auditorium. 
 
ALBERT 
 Hullo. Just come "down-centre", would you. 
 
He does so, opening his script. 
 
ALBERT 
Thanks. OK. Ready when you are. 
                  
"FAWCETT" 
Eee! Hold you horses, Chuck. My agent Effingham 
Associates told me nothing about this. Well, they're 




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