Separate Tables Read online

  31. ‘Yes!—A Woman’s A Two-Face,’ Daily Express. (27 September 1954); Iris Ashley, ‘Hello Folks!’ Daily Mail. (15 November 1954). Articles to be found in the Production File for Separate Tables. St James’s Theatre. 22 September 1954, in the Theatre Museum, London.

  32. Reviews quoted from Wansell, op. cit., pp. 278, 280. Many thanks to David Travis and Ginny Bull for information about American productions.

  33. American critic, Susan Rusinko, calls it ‘Rattigan’s major drama’. Terence Rattigan. English Authors, 366. Boston: Twayne, 1983, p. 93.

  34. Reviews quoted from the Production File for Separate Tables. Apollo Theatre. 17 January 1977, in the Theatre Museum, London.

  35. Reviews quoted from Theatre Record, xiii, 14 (24 July 1993), pp. 765-770.

  36. Reviews quoted from Theatre Record, xviii 7 (27 April 1998), pp. 415-417.

  List of Rattigan’s Produced Plays

  TITLE

  BRITISH PREMIERE

  NEW YORK PREMIERE

  First Episode (with Philip Heimann)

  Q Theatre, Kew, 11 Sept 1933 (transferred to Comedy Theatre, 26 Jan 1934

  Ritz Theatre, 17 Sept 1934

  French Without Tears

  Criterion Theatre, 6 Nov 1936

  Henry Miller Theatre, 28 Sept 1937

  After the Dance

  St James’s Theatre, 21 June 1939

  Follow My Leader (with Anthony Maurice, alias Tony Goldschmidt)

  Apollo Theatre, 16 Jan 1940

  Grey Farm (with Hector Bolitho)

  Hudson Theatre, 3 May 1940

  Flare Path

  Apollo Theatre, 13 Aug 1932

  Henry Miller Theatre, 23 Dec 1942

  While the Sun Shines

  Globe Theatre, 24 Dec 1943

  Lyceum Theatre, 19 Sept 1944

  Love in Idleness

  Lyric Theatre, 20 Dec 1944

  Empire Theatre (as O Mistress Mine), 23 Jan 1946

  The Winslow Boy

  Lyric Theatre, 23 May 1946

  Empire Theatre, 29 Oct 1947

  Playbill (The Browning Version and Harlequinade)

  Phoenix Theatre, 8 Sept 1948

  Coronet Theatre, 12 Oct 1949

  Adventure Story

  St James’s Theatre, 17 March 1949

  A Tale of Two Cities (from Charles Dickens, with John Gielgud)

  St Brendan’s College Dramatic Society, Clifton, 23 Jan 1950

  Who is Sylvia?

  Criterion Theatre, 24 Oct 1950

  Final Test (TV)

  BBC TV, 29 July 1951

  The Deep Blue Sea

  Duchess Theatre, 6 Mar 1952

  Morosco Theatre, 5 Nov 1952

  The Sleeping Prince

  Phoenix Theatre, 5 Nov 1953

  Coronet Theatre, 1 Nov 1956

  Seperate Tables (The Table by the Window and Table Number Seven)

  St James’s Theatre, 22 Sept 1954

  Music Box Theatre, 25 Oct 1956

  Variation on a Theme

  Globe Theatre, 8 May 1958

  Ross

  Theatre Royal Haymarket 12 May 1960

  Eugene O’Neill Theatre 26 Dec 1961

  Joie de Vivre (with Robert Stolz and Paul Dehn)

  Queen’s Theatre, 14 July 1960

  Heart to Heart (TV)

  BBC TV, 6 Dec 1962

  Man and Boy

  Queen’s Theatre, 4 Sept 1963

  Brooks Atkinson Theatre, 12 Nov 1963

  Ninety Years On (TV)

  BBC TV, 29 Nov 1964

  Nelson – A Portrait in Miniature (TV)

  Associated Television, 21 Mar 1966

  All On Her Own (TV) (adapted for the stage as Duologue)

  BBC 2, 25 Sept 1968

  A Bequest to the Nation

  Theatre Royal Haymarket 23 Sept 1970

  High Summer (TV)

  Thames TV, 12 Sept 1972

  In Praise of Love (After Lydia and Before Dawn)

  Duchess Theatre, 27 Sept 1973

  Morosco Theatre, 10 Dec 1974

  Cause Célèbre (radio)

  BBC Radio 4, 27 Oct 1975

  Duologue

  King’s Head Theatre, 21 Feb 1976

  Cause Célèbre (stage)

  Her Majesty’s Theatre, 4 July 1977

  Less Than Kind

  Jermyn Street Theatre, 20 January 2011

  TO MY MOTHER

  Editor’s Note

  Separate Tables exists in two different versions,

  as explained in the Introduction.

  The text that follows is the ‘standard’ version,

  which first appeared in Rattigan’s Collected Plays

  and has formed the basis of all subsequent editions.

  Where a passage exists in a variant version,

  it appears in bold.

  The variant version is printed in an appendix

  at the end of the play.

  Separate Tables was first produced at the St. James’s Theatre, London, on 22 September 1954, with the following cast:

  TABLE BY THE WINDOW

  MABEL

  Marion Fawcett

  LADY MATHESON

  Jane Eccles

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL

  Phyllis Neilson-Terry

  MISS MEACHAM

  May Hallatt

  DOREEN

  Priscilla Morgan

  MR. FOWLER

  Aubrey Mather

  MRS. SHANKLAND

  Margaret Leighton

  MISS COOPER

  Beryl Measor

  MR. MALCOLM

  Eric Portman

  CHARLES STRATTON

  Basil Henson

  JEAN TANNER

  Patricia Raine

  TABLE NUMBER SEVEN

  JEAN STRATTON

  Patricia Raine

  CHARLES STRATTON

  Basil Henson

  MAJOR POLLOCK

  Eric Portman

  MR. FOWLER

  Aubrey Mather

  MISS COOPER

  Beryl Measor

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL

  Phyllis Neilson-Terry

  MISS RAILTON-BELL

  Margaret Leighton

  LADY MATHESON

  Jane Eccles

  MISS MEACHAM

  May Hallatt

  MABEL

  Marion Fawcett

  DOREEN

  Priscilla Morgan

  The plays directed by Peter Glenville

  Decor by Michael Weight

  The action of both plays takes place in the Lounge and Dining-Room of the Beauregard Private Hotel, near Bournemouth.

  TABLE BY THE WINDOW

  Characters

  in order of speaking

  MABEL

  LADY MATHESON

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL

  MISS MEACHAM

  DOREEN

  MR. FOWLER

  MRS. SHANKLAND

  MISS COOPER

  MR. MALCOLM

  CHARLES STRATTON

  JEAN TANNER

  Time: Winter.

  Scene One: Dining-Room. Dinner.

  Scene Two: Lounge. After Dinner.

  Scene Three: Dining-Room. Breakfast.

  Scene One

  Scene: the dining-room of the Beauregard Private Hotel, near Bournemouth. It is small, rather bare and quite unpretentious. A door at back leads into the lounge, a swing door upstage right into the kitchen, and another downstage right into the hall and the rest of the hotel. Windows, left, are curtained at the moment, for it is a winter evening, about seven o’clock, and the guests are at dinner.

  Each sits at a small separate table, except for a young couple, CHARLES STRATTON and JEAN TANNER, who, as mere transients, occupy a table together in a corner of the room, not garnished, as are the other tables, with the bottles of medicine and favourite pickles and other idiosyncratic personal accessories of the permanent residents. Surprisingly, for they are an attractive-looking pair, CHARLES and JEAN are paying no attention to each other at all, and each is av
idly reading a book propped up on the flower vase between them.

  Prominently placed, and indeed a rather prominent-looking person altogether, is MRS. RAILTON-BELL. All the ladies (except JEAN who wears slacks) always change ‘into something’ for dinner, but MRS. RAILTON-BELL always changes into something much grander than the others. All the ladies (except JEAN) wear fur stoles, but MRS. RAILTON-BELL wears silver foxes. All the ladies (except JEAN) wear some small items of jewellery, but MRS. RAILTON-BELL’s are far less small than the others.

  MISS MEACHAM sits near her, reading (very close to her unspectacled eyes) a copy of ‘Racing Up To Date’. Although much the same age as MRS. RAILTON-BELL (about sixty-five) she is dressed in a far more sprightly fashion, but has not succeeded in looking any younger.

  LADY MATHESON, a Civil Servant’s widow, living on an annuity and therefore the poorest of all the residents, sits close by, a grey-faced, mousy, impeccably dressed woman, rather younger than the other two. MR. FOWLER, ex-public-school master, quiet and impassive-looking, sits further away.

  The table by the window is unoccupied – as is another towards the centre of the room and close to MRS. RAILTON-BELL.

  Two waitresses, one middle-aged (MABEL) the other young (DOREEN), serve the various tables. MABEL is taciturn, gloomy and dependable. DOREEN is flighty, talkative and undependable. At the moment only MABEL is visible. She is serving LADY MATHESON.

  MABEL. Were you medaillon or goulash?

  LADY MATHESON (correctly accenting). Medaillon.

  MABEL. Sorry. I thought you were goulash.

  She stumps with the unwanted goulash to the kitchen door.

  LADY MATHESON. It was probably my fault.

  MABEL (gloomily). I dare say.

  She passes on to MISS MEACHAM.

  Now, you were goulash, weren’t you, Miss Meacham?

  MISS MEACHAM (deep in her book). What? Oh yes, Mabel. Thank you.

  MABEL (serving her). And what to follow – the mousse angelic, or the turnover?

  MISS MEACHAM. Which do you think?

  MABEL. Turnover.

  MISS MEACHAM. Turnover, then.

  MABEL drifts away.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. I think cook’s acquiring a little lighter touch with her pastry, don’t you think?

  MISS MEACHAM. Not judging by the tarts we had at tea yesterday. Cannon-balls.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. Did you think so? I quite liked them. I much preferred them to those pink cakes on Tuesday.

  MISS MEACHAM. I didn’t mind the pink cakes. The tarts gave me the collywobbles. I had the most terrible dreams.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL (with a faint smile). I thought you were always having dreams.

  MISS MEACHAM. Oh, these weren’t my proper dreams. Not the ones I make myself dream. These were just horrible, pointless nightmares. Cosh boys and things. (After a slight pause.) I talked to Louis XV on Thursday night.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL (plainly humouring her). Did you indeed, dear?

  MISS MEACHAM. The goulash’s rather good. I think you made a mistake.

  She goes back to her book. There is a silence for a few moments while MISS MEACHAM peruses her ‘Racing Up To Date’ with myopic concentration.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. Think you’ve found a winner for tomorrow, Miss Meacham?

  MISS MEACHAM. Well, according to this form book, Marston Lad is worth a bob or two each way.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. I never bet nowadays. (After a meditative pause.) When my husband was alive he used sometimes to put as much as five pounds on a horse for me.

  MISS MEACHAM (looking up). I used to bet in ponies when my father was alive, and I had an allowance.

  She goes back to her ‘Racing Up To Date’.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL (suddenly irritable). Why don’t you get spectacles?

  MISS MEACHAM lowers her book.

  MISS MEACHAM. Because I don’t need them.

  She goes back to her book again. DOREEN, the other waitress, has come in and is now hovering over MR. FOWLER.

  DOREEN. Sorry, Mr. Fowler, the goulash’s off.

  MR. FOWLER looks up abstractedly.

  MR. FOWLER. What? Oh. What about the cold pie?

  DOREEN. I shouldn’t have that, if I were you. I saw what went into it. If I were you I’d have the tongue –

  MR. FOWLER. All right. Whatever you say.

  DOREEN disappears into the kitchen.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL (to LADY MATHESON, meaningly). She won’t last.

  LADY MATHESON. I’m afraid not.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. Still, it’s disgraceful that the goulash’s off, and two people not even in yet.

  LADY MATHESON. I know.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. Of course Mr. Malcolm’s never on time, (She indicates the table by the window.) and really deserves it. (In another confidential whisper.) Anyway, after those long sessions at the Feathers I often wonder if he ever really knows what he’s eating. But the new lady (She indicates the other unoccupied table.) – I mean, my dear, what will she think?

  LADY MATHESON. I saw her arrive.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. Did you?

  LADY MATHESON. Did you?

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL (slightly annoyed). I was in the lounge, but I didn’t – excuse me – think it quite the thing to peer out of the window at her –

  LADY MATHESON (firmly). I happened to be in the hall.

  MISS MEACHAM. I met her on the stairs.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. Really, dear?

  MISS MEACHAM (still absorbed in her book). She’s called Mrs. Shankland. She comes from London, she arrived by train, she has four suitcases and a hatbox and she’s staying two weeks.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL (unwillingly impressed). Four suitcases?

  MISS MEACHAM. And a hatbox.

  LADY MATHESON. She was awfully smartly dressed. Nothing flashy – very good taste – but – well – Mayfair, if you know what I mean.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. Really? (Changing the subject from this unwelcome topic.) It was quite nice out this afternoon, didn’t you think, dear – I mean, for December?

  LADY MATHESON. I didn’t go out, I’m afraid. There was a Sibelius concert on the Home –

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. You and your music. Did you go out, Mr. Fowler?

  MR. FOWLER. What? No, I didn’t. I was waiting for a telephone call.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. I was the only brave one then? Fancy.

  She breaks off abruptly as the door from the hall opens and MRS. SHANKLAND (ANNE), the new arrival, comes in. She is about forty, and, as she stands just inside the room looking around rather timidly, she seems entirely out of place in such an environment. Not that her clothes are unsuitable, although they are smart, nor that her coiffure is too stylish, although it is stylish, but that she has brought on with her an air of Belgravia and the smarter London restaurants. She stands now as if waiting for a head waiter to guide her to her table. None of the other guests glance at her. MABEL, who is serving MISS MEACHAM with her turnover, turns and sees her.

  MABEL. You’re the new one, aren’t you?

  ANNE. Yes.

  MABEL. You’re here.

  She points to the table in the centre.

  ANNE. Oh. Thank you.

  She goes to the table and sits down. Dead silence still reigns. MABEL hands her a menu and, while she is studying it, eyes begin to cast quick, furtive glances in her direction.

  MABEL. The brown windsor or the petite marmite?

  ANNE. I don’t think I’ll have any soup, thank you. I’ll try the goulash.

  MABEL. That’s right. We’ve got a portion left.

  MR. FOWLER glares furiously at MABEL as she goes past him to the kitchen, but decides not to make a scene. Eyes are lowered again as ANNE looks curiously round the room. The silence continues until it is at length broken by MRS RAILTON-BELL, speaking now in a rather louder and more self-consciously well-bred voice than before.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL (to LADY MATHESON). I was saying about the weather in December –

  LADY MATHESON. Oh yes?
<
br />   MRS. RAILTON-BELL. It can be so treacherous, especially here, on the south coast. This afternoon, for instance, even though the sun was quite bright, I put on a fur coat – my warmest one too – the Persian Lamb.

  LADY MATHESON. Very sensible of you.

  The two young people rise abruptly and make for the lounge door, each carrying their book. They have still, as far as we can see, not addressed a word to each other. MRS. RAILTON-BELL eyes them with disdain.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL. Trousers at dinner!

  LADY MATHESON. I know.

  MRS RAILTON-BELL. And he never changes either. I wonder Miss Cooper doesn’t say something. You’d think they’d teach them better manners at Oxford.

  LADY MATHESON. Yes, you would. (After a slight pause.) My husband was at Oxford.

  MRS. RAILTON-BELL (gently). Yes, dear. You’ve told me so before. Mine only went to Birmingham because of the wonderful engineering course they have there. He hated it, of course.

  MISS COOPER has come in and is crossing the room towards ANNE. She is youngish, with a rather masculine appearance and a quiet manner.