Harold Pinter Plays 2 (21 page)

Pause.
They
stare
at
each
other.

(
Suddenly
.)
Go on! Swallow it!

JAMES
throws
a
knife
at
BILL’S
face,
BILL
throws
up
a
hand
to
protect
his
face
and
catches
the
knife
by
the
blade
It
cuts
his
hand.

BILL.
Ow!

JAMES.
Well caught! What’s the matter?

He
examines
BILL’S
hand.

Let’s have a look. Ah yes. Now you’ve got a scar on your hand. You didn’t have one before, did you?

HARRY
comes
into
the
room.

HARRY
(
entering
).
What have you done, nipped your hand? Let’s have a look. (
To
JAMES
.) Only a little nip, isn’t it? It’s his own fault for not ducking. I must have told him dozens of times, you know, that if someone throws a knife at you the silliest thing you can do is to catch it. You’re bound to hurt yourself, unless it’s made of rubber. The safest thing to do is duck. You’re Mr. Horne?

JAMES.
That’s right.

HARRY.
I’m so glad to meet you. My name’s Harry Kane. Bill been looking after you all right? I asked him to see that you stayed until I got back. So glad you could spare the time. What are we drinking? Whisky? Let’s fill you up. You and your wife run that little boutique down the road, don’t you? Funny we’ve never met, living so close, all in the same trade, eh? Here you are. Got one, Bill? Where’s your glass? This one? Here … you are. Oh, stop rubbing your hand, for goodness’ sake. It’s only a cheese knife. Well, Mr. Horne, all the very best. Here’s wishing us all health, happiness and prosperity in the time to come, not forgetting your wife, of course. Healthy minds in healthy bodies. Cheers.

They
drink.

By the way, I’ve just seen your wife. What a beautiful kitten she has. You should see it, Bill; it’s all white. We had a very pleasant chat, your wife and I. Listen … old chap … can I be quite blunt with you?

JAMES.
Of course.

HARRY.
Your wife… you see … made a little tiny confession to me. I think I can use that word.

Pause.

BILL
is
sucking
his
hand.

What she confessed was … that she’d made the whole thing up. She’d made the whole damn thing up. For some odd reason of her own. They never met, you see, Bill and your wife; they never even spoke. This is what Bill says, and this is now what your wife admits. They had nothing whatever to do with each other; they don’t know each other. Women are very strange. But I suppose you know more about that than I do; she’s your wife. If I were you I’d go home and knock her over the head with a saucepan and tell her not to make up such stories again.

Pause.

JAMES.
She made the whole thing up, eh?

HARRY.
I’m afraid she did.

JAMES.
I see. Well, thanks very much for telling me.

HARRY.
I thought it would be clearer for you, coming from someone completely outside the whole matter.

JAMES.
Yes. Thank you.

HARRY.
Isn’t that so, Bill?

BILL.
Oh, quite so. I don’t even know the woman. Wouldn’t know her if I saw her. Pure fantasy.

JAMES.
How’s your hand?

BILL.
Not bad.

JAMES.
Isn’t it strange that you confirmed the whole of her story?

BILL.
It amused me to do so.

JAMES.
Oh?

BILL.
Yes. You amused me. You wanted me to confirm it. It amused me to do so.

Pause.

HARRY.
Bill’s a slum boy, you see, he’s got a slum sense of
humour. That’s why I never take him along with me to parties. Because he’s got a slum mind. I have nothing against slum minds
per
se,
you understand, nothing at all. There’s a certain kind of slum mind which is perfectly all right in a slum, but when this kind of slum mind gets out of the slum it sometimes persists, you see, it rots everything. That’s what Bill is. There’s something faintly putrid about him, don’t you find? Like a slug. There’s nothing wrong with slugs in their place, but he’s a slum slug; there’s nothing wrong with slum slugs in their place, but this one won’t keep his place – he crawls all over the walls of nice houses, leaving slime, don’t you, boy? He confirms stupid sordid little stories just to amuse himself, while everyone else has to run round in circles to get to the root of the matter and smooth the whole thing out. All he can do is sit and suck his bloody hand and decompose like the filthy putrid slum slug he is. What about another whisky, Horne?

JAMES.
No, I think I must be off now. Well, I’m glad to hear that nothing did happen. Great relief to me.

HARRY.
It must be.

JAMES.
My wife’s not been very well lately, actually. Overwork.

HARRY.
That’s bad. Still, you know what it’s like in our business.

JAMES.
Best thing to do is take her on a long holiday, I think.

HARRY.
South of France.

JAMES.
The Isles of Greece.

HARRY.
Sun’s essential, of course.

JAMES.
I know. Bermuda.

HARRY.
Perfect.

JAMES.
Well, thanks very much, Mr. Kane, for clearing my mind. I don’t think I’ll mention it when I get home. Take her out for a drink or something. Forget all about it.

HARRY.
Better hurry up. It’s nearly closing time.

JAMES
moves
to
BILL
,
who
is
sitting.

JAMES.
I’m very sorry I cut your hand. You’re lucky you caught it, of course. Otherwise it might have cut your mouth. Still, it’s not too bad, is it?

Pause.

Look … I really think I ought to apologize for this silly story my wife made up. The fault is really all hers, and mine, for believing her. You’re not to blame for taking it as you did. The whole thing must have been an impossible burden for you. What do you say we shake hands, as a testimony of my goodwill?

JAMES
extends
his
hand.
BILL
rubs
his
hand
but
does
not
extend
it.

HARRY.
Come on, Billy, I think we’ve had enough of this  stupidity, don’t you?

Pause.

BILL.
I’ll … tell you … the truth.

HARRY.
Oh, for God’s sake, don’t be ridiculous. Come on, Mr. Horne, off you go now, back to your wife, old boy, leave this … tyke to me.

JAMES
does
not
move.
He
looks
down
at
BILL
.

Come on, Jimmy, I think we’ve had enough of this stupidity don’t you?

JAMES
looks
at
him
sharply.
HARRY
stops
still.

BILL.
I never touched her … we sat … in the lounge, on a sofa … for two hours … talked … we talked about it … we didn’t… move from the lounge … never went to her room … just talked … about what we would do
… if we did get to her room … two hours … we never touched … we just talked about it …

Long
silence.
JAMES
leaves
the
house.
HARRY
sits.
BILL
remains
sitting
sucking
his
hand.
Silence.
Fade
house
to
half
light.
Fade
up
full
on
flat.
STELLA
is
lying
with
the
kitten.
The
flat
door
closes.
JAMES
comes
in.
He
stands
looking
at
her.

JAMES.
You didn’t do anything, did you?

Pause.

He wasn’t in your room. You just talked about it, in the lounge.

Pause.

That’s the truth, isn’t it?

Pause.

You just sat and talked about what you would do if you went to your room. That’s what you did.

Pause.

Didn’t you?

Pause.

That’s the truth … isn’t it?

STELLA
looks
at
him,
neither
confirming
nor
denying.
Her face
is
friendly,
sympathetic.
Fade
flat
to
half
light.
The
four
figures
are
still,
in
the
half
light.
Fade
to
blackout.

Curtain

RICHARD
(
amiably
).
Is your lover coming today?

SARAH.
Mmnn.

RICHARD.
What time?

SARAH.
Three.

RICHARD.
Will you be going out … or staying in?

SARAH.
Oh … I think we’ll stay in.

RICHARD.
I thought you wanted to go to that exhibition.

SARAH.
I did, yes … but I think I’d prefer to stay in with him today.

RICHARD.
Mmn-hmmn. Well, I must be off.

He
goes
to
the
hall
and
puts
on
his
bowler
hat.

RICHARD.
Will he be staying long do you think?

SARAH.
Mmmnnn …

RICHARD.
About… six, then.

SARAH.
Yes.

RICHARD.
Have a pleasant afternoon.

SARAH.
Mmnn.

RICHARD.
Bye-bye.

SARAH.
Bye.

He
opens
the
front
door
and
goes
out.
She
continues
dusting.
The
lights
fade.

Fade
up.
Early
evening.
SARAH
comes
into
room
from
kitchen.
She
wears
the
same
dress,
but
is
now
wearing
a
pair
of
very
high-heeled
shoes.
She
pours
a
drink
and
sits
on
chaise
longue
with
magazine.
There
are
six
chimes
of
the
clock.
RICHARD
comes
in
the
front
door.
He
wears
a
sober
suit,
as
in
the
morning.
He
puts
his
briefcase
down
in
the
hall
and
goes
into
the
room.
She
smiles
at
him
and
pours
him
a
whisky.

Hullo.

RICHARD.
Hullo.

He
kisses
her
on
the
cheek.
Takes
glass,
hands
her
the
evening
paper
and
sits
down
left.
She
sits
on
chaise
longue
with
paper.

Thanks.

He
drinks,
sits
back
and
sighs
with
contentment.

Aah.

SARAH.
Tired?

RICHARD.
Just a little.

SARAH.
Bad traffic?

RICHARD.
No. Quite good traffic, actually.

SARAH.
Oh, good.

RICHARD.
Very smooth.

Pause.

SARAH.
It seemed to me you were just a little late.

RICHARD.
Am I?

SARAH.
Just a little.

RICHARD.
There was a bit of a jam on the bridge.

SARAH
gets
up,
goes
to
drinks
table
to
collect
her
glass,
sits
again
on
the
chaise
longue.

Pleasant day?

SARAH.
Mmn. I was in the village this morning.

RICHARD.
Oh yes? See anyone?

SARAH.
Not really, no. Had lunch.

RICHARD.
In the village?

SARAH.
Yes.

RICHARD.
Any good?

SARAH.
Quite fair. (
She
sits.
)

RICHARD.
What about this afternoon? Pleasant afternoon?

SARAH.
Oh yes. Quite marvellous.

RICHARD.
Your lover came, did he?

SARAH.
Mmnn. Oh yes.

RICHARD.
Did you show him the hollyhocks?

Slight
pause.

SARAH.
The hollyhocks?

RICHARD.
Yes.

SARAH.
No, I didn’t.

RICHARD.
Oh.

SARAH.
Should I have done?

RICHARD.
No, no. It’s simply that I seem to remember your saying he was interested in gardening.

SARAH.
Mmnn, yes, he is.

Pause.

Not all that interested, actually.

RICHARD.
Ah.

Pause.

Did you go out at all, or did you stay in?

SARAH.
We stayed in.

RICHARD.
Ah. (
He
looks
up
at
the
Venetian
blinds.
)
That blind hasn’t been put up properly.

SARAH.
Yes, it is a bit crooked, isn’t it?

Pause.

RICHARD.
Very sunny on the road. Of course, by the time I got on to it the sun was beginning to sink. But I imagine it was quite warm here this afternoon. It was warm in the City.

SARAH.
Was it?

RICHARD.
Pretty stifling. I imagine it was quite warm everywhere.

SARAH.
Quite a high temperature, I believe.

RICHARD.
Did it say so on the wireless?

SARAH.
I think it did, yes.

Slight
pause.

RICHARD.
One more before dinner?

SARAH.
Mmn.

He
pours
drinks.

RICHARD.
I see you had the Venetian blinds down.

SARAH.
We did, yes.

RICHARD.
The light was terribly strong.

SARAH.
It was. Awfully strong.

RICHARD.
The trouble with this room is that it catches the sun so directly, when it’s shining. You didn’t move to another room?

SARAH.
No. We stayed here.

RICHARD.
Must have been blinding.

SARAH.
It was. That’s why we put the blinds down.

Pause.

RICHARD.
The thing is it gets so awfully hot in here with the blinds down.

SARAH.
Would you say so?

RICHARD.
Perhaps not. Perhaps it’s just that you feel hotter.

SARAH.
Yes. That’s probably it.

Pause.

What did you do this afternoon?

RICHARD.
Long meeting. Rather inconclusive.

SARAH.
It’s a cold supper. Do you mind?

RICHARD.
Not in the least.

SARAH.
I didn’t seem to have time to cook anything today.

She
moves
towards
the
kitchen.

RICHARD.
Oh, by the way … I rather wanted to ask you something.

SARAH.
What?

RICHARD.
Does it ever occur to you that while you’re spending the afternoon being unfaithful to me I’m sitting at a desk going through balance sheets and graphs?

SARAH.
What a funny question.

RICHARD.
No, I’m curious.

SARAH.
You’ve never asked me that before.

RICHARD.
I’ve always wanted to know.

Slight
pause.

SARAH.
Well, of course it occurs to me.

RICHARD.
Oh, it does?

SARAH.
Mmnn.

Slight
pause.

RICHARD.
What’s your attitude to that, then?

SARAH.
It makes it all the more piquant.

RICHARD.
Does it really?

SARAH.
Of course.

RICHARD.
You mean while you’re with him … you actually have a picture of me, sitting at my desk going through balance sheets?

SARAH.
Only at … certain times.

RICHARD.
Of course.

SARAH.
Not all the time.

RICHARD.
Well, naturally.

SARAH.
At particular moments.

RICHARD.
Mmnn. But, in fact, I’m not completely forgotten?

SARAH.
Not by any means.

RICHARD.
That’s rather touching, I must admit.

Pause.

SARAH.
How could I forget you?

RICHARD.
Quite easily, I should think.

SARAH.
But I’m in your house.

RICHARD.
With another.

SARAH.
But it’s you I love.

RICHARD.
I beg your pardon?

SARAH.
But it’s you I love.

Pause.
He
looks
at
her,
proffers
his
glass.

RICHARD.
Let’s have another drink.

She
moves
forward.
He
withdraws
his glass,
looks
at
her
shoes.

What shoes are they?

SARAH.
Mmnn?

RICHARD.
Those shoes. They’re unfamiliar. Very high-heeled, aren’t they?

SARAH
(
muttering
).
Mistake. Sorry.

RICHARD
(
not
hearing
)
.
Sorry? I beg your pardon?

SARAH.
I’ll … take them off.

RICHARD.
Not quite the most comfortable shoes for an evening at home, I would have thought.

She
goes
into
hall,
opens
cupboard,
puts
high-heeled
shoes
into
cupboard,
puts
on
low-heeled
shoes.
He
moves
to
drinks
table,
pours
himself
a
drink.
She
moves
to
centre
table,
lights
a
cigarette.

So you had a picture of me this afternoon, did you, sitting in my office?

SARAH.
I did, yes. It wasn’t a terribly convincing one, though.

RICHARD.
Oh, why not?

SARAH.
Because I knew you weren’t there. I knew you were with your mistress.

Pause.

RICHARD.
Was I?

Short
pause.

SARAH.
Aren’t you hungry?

RICHARD.
I had a heavy lunch.

SARAH.
How heavy?

He
stands
at
the
window.

RICHARD.
What a beautiful sunset.

SARAH.
Weren’t you?

He
turns
and
laughs.

RICHARD.
What mistress?

SARAH.
Oh, Richard …

RICHARD.
No, no, it’s simply the word that’s so odd.

SARAH.
Is it? Why?

Slight
pause.

I’m honest with you, aren’t I? Why can’t you be honest with me?

RICHARD.
But I haven’t got a mistress. I’m very well acquainted with a whore, but I haven’t got a mistress. There’s a world of difference.

SARAH.
A whore?

RICHARD
(
taking
an
olive
).
Yes. Just a common or garden slut.