MRS. CALLIFER: James, it was all a mistake. You don’t take this seriously, James?

JAMES: What’s your story, Mother? You’ve kept it dark a long while.

MRS. CALLIFER: There was no story to tell. We didn’t want you to remember how foolish you’d been. You were in a coma from shock. When the doctor came he revived you.

MRS. POTTER: Not the doctor. Potter left you with your uncle, Master James.

MRS. CALLIFER: Potter did better than he knew. Perhaps he did save your life.

MRS. POTTER: Potter never thought that. He was beyond human aid, Potter said.

JAMES: Mother, where’s my uncle now? (Pause.) You may as well tell me.

MRS. CALLIFER: Even if I knew where he was I wouldn’t tell you. What use could he be to you in the state you’d find him in?

JAMES: Mother, you can’t hush him up. There are directories where one can find a priest’s address.

ANNE (coming forward): I’ll find it for you. (They all turn and look at her.) It will be a lot easier than finding Mrs. Potter.

JAMES: No! Leave this to me.

CURTAIN

Act Two
SCENE TWO

Evening. The sitting room in Father Callifer’s presbytery in an East Anglian town. There is something in its homelessness that reminds us of James Callifer’s lodgings in Nottingham. Only instead of pictures by Marcus Stone there are a hideous Sacred Heart, a dreary print of a Mother and Child belonging to Raphael’s most sugary period. There is a crucifix on the dresser, instead of a biscuit-box. One feels that all has been inherited from another priest. They are part of a second-hand uniform. There are two doors, one opening on another part of the house, the other into a little drab hall.

There are the remains of an evening meal on a tray on the table in the sitting room. A bottle of cheap altar wine is all but finished.

Miss Connolly, Father Callifer’s housekeeper, has just let a man into the hall. He wears a raincoat over his shoulders. In the half-dark, for the only light comes from the street outside, we do not at first recognize James Callifer. Miss Connolly is a hard-faced woman of over fifty. She has known many other priests in her time and has learned only too well to distinguish between the office and the man.

MISS CONNOLLY: For what would you be wanting the father at this hour? There’s proper times for confession. They are on the church board. Is it confession?

JAMES: No.

MISS CONNOLLY: Instruction? I doubt if he’s in a fit state after his supper. He’s easily tired.

JAMES: So I’ve heard.

MISS CONNOLLY: You shouldn’t believe all you hear. Where do you come from?

JAMES: A long way. Just tell him—