Harold Pinter Plays 2 (29 page)

We
hear
the
following
dialogue
from
her
point
of
view.

WALTER.
Let’s have some of this. I’ve brought it for you.

SALLY.
What is it?

WALTER.
Brandy.

SALLY.
What is this in aid of?

WALTER.
Well, I thought we might as well get to know each other, both living in the same house.

SALLY.
Yes, why not?

WALTER.
Do you drink?

SALLY.
Oh, not really.

WALTER.
Just one or two now and again, eh?

SALLY.
Very occasionally.

WALTER.
But you’ll have a drop of this?

SALLY.
Just a drop … Glasses …

WALTER.
I’ve got them.

SALLY.
All prepared, eh?

He
opens
the
bottle
and
pours.

WALTER.
Cheers.

SALLY.
Good health.

WALTER.
I wanted to say … I was a bit rude yesterday. I wanted to apologize.

SALLY.
You weren’t rude.

WALTER.
It’ll just take a bit of getting used to, that’s all, you having my room.

SALLY.
Well, look, I’ve been thinking … perhaps we could share the room, in – in a kind of way.

WALTER.
Share it?

SALLY.
I mean, you could use it when I’m not here, or some thing.

WALTER.
Oh, I don’t know about that.

SALLY.
It’d be quite easy. I’m at school all day.

WALTER.
What about the evenings?

SALLY.
Well, I’m out three nights a week, you see.

WALTER.
Where do you go?

SALLY.
Oh, night school. I’m studying languages. Then I usually go on with a girl friend of mine, a history teacher, to listen to some music.

WALTER.
What kind of music?

SALLY.
Mozart, Brahms. That kind of stuff.

WALTER.
Oh, all that kind of stuff.

SALLY.
Yes.

Pause.

WALTER.
Well, it’s cosy in here. Have another one.

SALLY
.
Oh, I …

WALTER
(
pouring
).
Just one.

SALLY.
Thanks. Cheers.

Pause.

WALTER.
I’ve never been in this room with a lady before.

SALLY.
Oh.

WALTER.
The boys used to come here, though. This is where we used to plan our armed robberies.

SALLY.
Really?

WALTER.
My aunts never told you why I’ve been inside, have they?

SALLY.
No.

WALTER.
Well, what it is, you see. I’m a gunman.

SALLY.
Oh.

WALTER.
Ever met a gunman before?

SALLY.
I don’t think so.

WALTER.
It’s not a bad life, all things considered. Plenty of time off. You know, holidays with pay, you could say. No, there’s plenty of worse occupations. You’re not frightened of me now you know I’m a gunman, are you?

SALLY.
No, I think you’re charming.

WALTER.
Oh, you’re right there. That’s why I got on so well in prison, you see. Charm. You know what I was doing in there? I was running the prison library. I was the best librarian they ever had. The day I left the Governor gave me a personal send-off. Saw me all the way to the gate. He told me business at the library had shot up out of all recognition since I’d been in charge.

SALLY.
What a wonderful compliment

WALTER
(
pouring
more
drink
).
He told me that if I’d consider
giving up armed robbery he’d recommend me for a job in the British Museum. Looking after rare manuscripts. You know, writing my opinion of them.

SALLY.
I should think that’s quite a skilled job.

WALTER.
Cheers. Skilled? Well, funny enough, I’ve had a good bit to do with rare manuscripts in my time. I used to know a bloke who ran a business digging them up.

SALLY.
Digging what up?

WALTER.
Rare manuscripts. Out of tombs. I used to give him a helping hand when I was on the loose. Very well paid it was, too. You see, they were nearly always attached to a corpse, these manuscripts, you had to lift up the pelvis bone with a pair of tweezers. Big tweezers. Can’t leave fingerprints on a corpse, you see. Canon law. The biggest shock I ever had was when a skeleton collapsed on top of me and nearly bit my ear off. I had a funny feeling at that moment. I thought I was the skeleton and he was my long-lost uncle come to kiss me good night. You’ve never been inside a grave, I suppose. I can recommend it, honest, I mean if you want to taste everything life has to offer.

SALLY.
Well, I’ll be inside one, one day.

WALTER.
Oh, I don’t know. You might be cremated, or drowned at sea, mightn’t you?

ANNIE
creeps
back
down
the
landing
into
the
AUNTS’
room
and
gets
into
bed.

MILLY.
Did you listen?

ANNIE.
Yes.

MILLY
.
Well?

ANNIE.
I heard them talking.

MILLY.
What were they saying?

ANNIE.
Don’t ask me.

MILLY.
Go to the door again. Listen properly.

ANNIE.
Why don’t you go.

MILLY.
I’m in bed.

ANNIE.
So am I.

MILLY.
But I’ve been in bed longer than you.

ANNIE
mutters
and
grumbles
to
herself,
gets
out
of
bed
and
goes
back
along
the
landing
to
the
door.
The
dialogue
heard
is
still
from
her
point
of
view.

WALTER.
You’re a Northerner?

SALLY.
That’s clever of you. I thought I’d …

WALTER.
I can tell the accent.

SALLY.
I thought I’d lost it …

WALTER.
There’s something in your eyes too. You only find it in Lancashire girls.

SALLY.
Really? What?

WALTER
(
moving
closer
).
You seem a bit uncomfortable with me. Why’s that?

SALLY.
I’m not uncomfortable.

WALTER.
Why’s that, then? You seem a bit uneasy.

SALLY.
I’m not.

WALTER.
Let’s fill you up, eh? I mean you were different yesterday. You were on top of yourself yesterday.

SALLY.
It’s you who were different. You’re different today.

WALTER.
You don’t want to worry about me being an armed robber. They call me the gentle gunman.

SALLY.
I’m not worried.

Pause.

WALTER.
My aunties think you’re marvellous. I think they’ve got us in mind for the marriage stakes.

SALLY.
What?

WALTER.
Yes, I think they think they’ve found me a wife.

SALLY.
How funny.

WALTER.
They’ve roped you in to take part in a wedding. They’ve forgotten one thing, though.

SALLY.
What’s that?

WALTER.
I’m married. As a matter of fact, I’m married to three women. I’m a triple bigamist. Do you believe me?

SALLY.
I think you’re in a very strange mood.

WALTER.
It’s the look in your eyes that’s brought it on.

SALLY.
You haven’t got such bad eyes yourself.

WALTER.
Your eyes, they’re Northern eyes. They’re full of soot.

SALLY.
Thank you.

WALTER
(
pouring
).
Top it up. Come on.

SALLY.
To our eyes.

WALTER.
I thought you didn’t drink. You can knock it back all right. Keep in practice in school, I suppose. In the milk break. Keeps you in trim for netball Or at that night school, eh? I bet you enjoy yourself there. Come on. Tell me what you get up to at that night school.

ANNIE
yawns
slightly
and
pads
back
to
her
room.
She
closes
door
and
gets
into
bed.

ANNIE.
Still talking.

MILLY.
What are they talking about?
(Sleepily.)

ANNIE.
I can’t make it out.

MILLY.
I should have gone. You’re as deaf as a post.

They
settle
in
bed.
Squeaks.

ANNIE.
The doughnut’s given me heartburn.
(Faintly.)
Good night.

MILLY
snores
briefly.

Fade
into
SALLY’S
room.

SALLY.
I lead a quiet life, a very quiet life, I don’t mix with people.

WALTER.
Except me. You’re mixing with me.

SALLY.
I don’t have any kind of social life.

WALTER.
I’ll have to take you round a few of the clubs I know, show you the sights.

SALLY.
No, I don’t like that

WALTER.
What do you like?

Pause.

SALLY.
Lying here … by myself…

WALTER.
On my bed.

SALLY.
Yes.

WALTER.
Doing what?

SALLY.
Thinking.

WALTER.
Think about me last night?

SALLY.
You?

WALTER.
This offer to share your room, I might consider it.

Pause.

I bet you’re thinking about me now.

Pause.

SALLY.
Why should I be?

WALTER.
I’m thinking about you.

Pause.

I don’t know why I made such a fuss about this room. It’s just an ordinary room, there’s nothing to it. I mean if you weren’t here. If you weren’t in it, there’d be nothing to it.

Pause.

Why don’t you stay in it? It’s not true that I’m married. I just said that I’m not attached. To tell you the truth … to tell you the truth, I’m still looking for Miss Right.

SALLY.
I think I should move away from here.

WALTER.
Where would you go?

Pause.

SALLY.
Anywhere.

WALTER.
Would you go to the seaside? I could come with you. We could do a bit of fishing … on the pier. Yes, we could go together. Or, on the other hand, we could stay here. We could stay where we are.

SALLY.
Could we?

WALTER.
Sit down.

SALLY.
What?

WALTER.
Sit down.
(Pause.)
Cross your legs.

SALLY.
Mmmmm?

WALTER.
Cross your legs.

Pause.

Uncross them.

Pause.

Stand up.

Pause.

Turn round.

Pause.

Stop.

Pause.

Sit down.

Pause.

Cross your legs.

Pause.

Uncross your legs.

Silence.

Night-club
music.

TULLY.
No, I tell you, it must be … wait a minute, must be round about ten years. The last time was when I was down at Richmond.