Read Online Humble Boy by Charlotte Jones - Free Book Online Page A

table.
    George    All right, bunny?
    Felix    Sorry. Point of order. Sorry. Can I just inquire about that? Call me old-fashioned but I’m afraid it troubles me. My mother being referred to, even affectionately, as a rabbit.
    George    She likes it.
    Flora    And it’s very accurate, Felix.
    Felix    What?
    Flora    For a brief and rather enjoyable period in the early sixties, I was a bunny girl.
    George    Complete with fluffy tail.
    Rosie    ( under her breath ) That makes sense.
    Felix    What happened? Did you contract myxomatosis?
    Flora    No, I married your father and he brought me here to Moreton-in-the-Mud to rot my life away. The world did not begin at your conception, Felix, as troubling as that may seem … Did you say something, Rosie?
    Rosie    This looks lovely, Mrs Humble.
    Flora    Mercy made it.
    Rosie    Mmm. I must get the recipe.
    Flora    Of course I was thrillingly thin in those days. Before my son robbed me of my figure.
    Mercy goes to serve Flora.
    Not for me. I won’t have any, thank you.
    Mercy    Oh Flora. Please.
    Flora    I’m not really hungry. I don’t seem to have much of an appetite these days.
    Felix    You’re anosmic.
    Flora    What?
    Mercy    Anaemic?
    Felix    Anosmic.
    Rosie    You mean anorexic.
    Felix    No. Anosmia. No sense of smell. It affects the appetite.
    Flora    What?
    George    She’s not fucking anosmic.
    Rosie    Dad.
    Mercy    Perhaps it’s because of the nose job.
    Felix    It’s not because of the nose job.
    Rosie    You’ve had a nose job?
    Flora    I haven’t had a nose job. I have had my nose slightly rephrased. That is all.
    George    And she’s not fucking anosmic. If she was fucking anosmic, I’d be the first to know about it.
    Felix    Thing about George, he can always be called upon for an elegant turn of phrase.
    George    Piss off.
    Mercy    Does anyone want bread with it?
    Felix    You have been anosmic, Mother, since the day my father died.
    Rosie    No thank you, Mercy.
    George    Why don’t you take a running jump? Preferably in close proximity to a cliff.
    Flora    George.
    Felix    Do you think that’s the best way?
    George    What?
    Felix    No, really, I’m interested. What is the best way to do yourself in, so to speak? More wine, Mother?
    Flora proffers her glass. Felix goes round refilling for everyone.
    Rosie    Pills. But not paracetomol. They’re too slow and they do funny things to your liver.
    Felix    So speaks the nurse.
    Rosie    The worst is drinking sulphuric acid. You burn yourself inside out.
    Mercy    I really don’t think we should be talking about this at the table.
    Flora    I’d put my head in a gas oven.
    Felix    Ah. The housewife’s choice.
    Flora    Anything is preferable to cleaning it.
    Mercy    I’ve got an Aga.
    Rosie    It doesn’t work any more.
    Mercy    Well. It’s a bit temperamental to light.
    Rosie    No, I mean, you can’t do it with a gas oven. They changed it so you can’t.
    Flora    Killjoys.
    Mercy    I don’t think you could do it with an Aga either. No.
    George    ( slowly, considered ) A length of hose. Easy.
    Felix    ( sharp ) What?
    George    Only way to do it. In the car. A length of hose from the exhaust pipe. Wind the window up. A glass of whisky in my hand and Glen Miller on the stereo. I’d have an upbeat number first. ‘Chattanooga Choo-Choo’ or ‘Pennsylvania 6–5000’.