31 Plays in 31 Days, #14 - “Another Young Girl”

[breakinglight11]

Working out of an idea for the eventual inclusion of Beatrice, Nathaniel’s daughter, onstage in the Hawking series. In the third trilogy she’d finally be old enough to be depicted in a manageable way, and I like the idea that she wants to have a relationship with her fascinating great auntie. But the idea of a bright young woman who wants to get close to her brings up a lot of issues for Mrs. Hawking that Beatrice is going to insist on making her work through.



Day #14 - Another Young Girl
From the Mrs. Hawking series
By Phoebe Roberts

London, England, 1890

VICTORIA HAWKING, lady’s champion of London, early fifties
BEATRICE HAWKING, her grandniece, mid teens
~~~

(MRS. HAWKING grinds over her case notes in frustration. A small sound can be heard, and she looks up. She sighs, realizing, then attempts to return to her work. But from the hallway, BEATRICE creeps in, doing her best to be silent and unseen.)

MRS. HAWKING: (without looking up) I know you’re there, girl.

(BEATRICE sighs and comes into the room.)

BEATRICE: I thought I was quiet.

MRS. HAWKING: Not quiet enough for someone who lives alone. What do you want?

BEATRICE: To see what you’re doing! You and Papa always are working on something interesting. I want to see what it is.

MRS. HAWKING: This is not a game, Beatrice. Does your mother know you’re here? I’m sure she wouldn’t like it.

BEATRICE: Papa does. And he doesn’t mind.

MRS. HAWKING: Yes, well. He’s never much picked up on whether or not he’s wanted.

BEATRICE: Why do you say things like that?

MRS. HAWKING: What?

BEATRICE: You talk like you don’t like him. But you do.

MRS. HAWKING: And how do you know that?

BEATRICE: He told me so.

MRS. HAWKING: People don’t always tell the truth, girl.

BEATRICE: No. But you keep calling him back. Why would you do that, if you didn’t like him?

MRS. HAWKING: Hm. An astute observation, miss.

BEATRICE: I know. It’s me you don’t like.

MRS. HAWKING: I beg your pardon?

BEATRICE: You grumble about Papa, but I’m the one you’re always sending away. I’ve noticed that too.

MRS. HAWKING: I see.

BEATRICE: Why don’t you like me, Auntie?

MRS. HAWKING: Oh, dear God. You are Nathaniel’s daughter.

BEATRICE: What have I done? Talked too much, asked too many questions?

MRS. HAWKING: Beatrice—

BEATRICE: Bothered you too many times about your work? Or… do you think I’m too dull to talk to, or to understand what you do?

MRS. HAWKING: Girl. It isn’t that I don’t like you.

BEATRICE: You don’t act like you do!

MRS. HAWKING: Perhaps not. But… it isn’t for anything you did. Indeed, you a bright young creature with a brain in her head and fire in her guts. And that, I’m afraid, is the problem.

BEATRICE: Why ever would that be?

MRS. HAWKING: Because I am not good for bright young creatures who take an interest in my work. And I can’t bear to go through it again.