YOUNG JACK
Oh no, oh God! I’ll get Father—
MOTHER
(Sharp)
You will not.
(Soothing again)
No need to trouble him; it’s nothing to be afraid of, you know.
Simply an indignity we ladies must suffer, now and then.
YOUNG JACK
(Fascinated, despite himself)
All ladies?
MOTHER
Every one of them. And I’ll tell you a secret—as long as we do,
the babies come.
YOUNG JACK
(Pause; whispers)
But you’ll die.
MOTHER
(A little sad)
We all will, my precious boy. Eventually.
And there’s no cure for that.
She tips the basin out into a sink. The SOUND OF WATER GURGLING away down the drain.
TABLEAU THREE: NOTOREITY, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES
FADE IN, OVER: NIGHT SOUNDS, London, 1888.
JACK is WASHING his hands at a public sink, breath fast and rough. A HORSE NEIGHS and shies behind him.
MAN
(Yelling)
Here, over here! Christ, it’s awful!
WOMAN
Get the Peelers!