Harold Pinter Plays 2 (17 page)

HARRY.
Well, what do you want?

JAMES.
I’m looking for Bill.

HARRY.
You didn’t by any chance telephone just now?

JAMES.
I think you’ve got the wrong man.

HARRY.
I think you have.

JAMES.
I don’t think you know anything about it.

JAMES
turns
and
goes.
HARRY
stands
watching
him.
Fade
to
blackout.
Fade
up
moonlight
in
flat.
The
front
door
closes,
in
flat.
STELLA
comes
in,
stands,
switches
on
a
lamp.
She
turns
in
the
direction
of
the
other
rooms.

STELLA.
Jimmy?

Silence.
She
takes
her
gloves
off,
puts
her
handbag
down,
and
is
still.
She
goes
to
the
record
player,
and
puts
on
a
record.
It
is
‘Charlie
Parker’.
She
listens,
then
exists
to
the
bedroom.
Fade
up
house.
Night.
BILL
enters
the
living-room
from
the
kitchen
with
magazines.
He
throws
them
in
the
hearth,
goes
to
the
drinks
table
and
pours
a
drink,
then
lies
on
the
floor
with
a
drink
by
the
hearth,
flicking
through
a
magazine.
STELLA
comes
back
into
the
room
with
a
white
Persian
kitten.
She
lies
back
on
the
sofa,
nuzzling
it.
HARRY
comes
downstairs,
glances
in
at
BILL
,
exits
and
walks
down
the
street
to
up
right,
JAMES
appears
at
the
front
door
of
the
house
from
up
left,
looks
after

HARRY
,
and
rings
the
bell.
BILL
stands,
and
goes
to
the
door.
Fade
flat
to
half
light
and
music
out.

BILL.
Yes?

JAMES.
Bill Lloyd?

BILL.
Yes?

JAMES.
Oh, I’d … I’d like to have a word with you.

Pause.

BILL.
I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you?

JAMES.
Don’t you?

BILL.
No.

JAMBS.
Well, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about

BILL.
I’m terribly sorry, I’m busy.

JAMES.
It won’t take long.

BILL.
I’m awfully sorry. Perhaps you’d like to put it down on paper and send it to me.

JAMES.
That’s not possible.

Pause.

BILL
(
closing
door
)
.
Do forgive me –

JAMES
(
foot
in
door
).
Look. I want to speak to you.

Pause.

BILL.
Did you phone me today?

JAMES.
That’s right. I called, but you’d gone out.

BILL.
You called here? I didn’t know that.

JAMES.
I think I’d better come in, don’t you?

BILL.
You can’t just barge into someone’s house like this, you know. What do you want?

JAMES.
Why don’t you stop wasting your time and let me in?

BILL.
I could call the police.

JAMES.
Not worth it.

They
stare
at
each
other.

BILL.
All right.

JAMES
goes
in.
BILL
cl
oses
the
door.
JAMES
goes
through
the
hall
and
into
the
living-room.
BILL
follows.
JAMES
looks
about
the
room.

JAMBS.
Got any olives?

BILL.
How did you know my name?

JAMES.
No olives?

BILL.
Olives? I’m afraid not.

JAMES.
You mean to say you don’t keep olives for your guests?

BILL.
You’re not my guest, you’re an intruder. What can I do for you?

JAMES.
Do you mind if I sit down?

BILL.
Yes, I do.

JAMES.
You’ll get over it.

JAMES
sits,
BILL
stands,
JAMES
stands,
takes
off his
over
coat,
throws
it
on
an
armchair
,
and
sits
again.

BILL.
What’s your name, old boy?

JAMES
reaches
to
a
bowl
of
fruit
and
breaks
off
a
grape,
which
he
eats.

JAMES.
Where shall I put the pips?

BILL.
In your wallet.

JAMES
takes
out
his
wallet
and
deposits
the
pips.
He
regards
BILL
.

JAMES.
You’re not a bad-looking bloke.

BILL.
Oh, thanks.

JAMES.
You’re not a film star, but you’re quite tolerable looking, I suppose.

BILL.
That’s more than I can say for you.

JAMES.
I’m not interested in what you can say for me.

BILL.
To put it quite bluntly, old chap, I’m even less interested than you are. Now look, come on please, what do you want?

JAMES
stands,
walks
to
the
drinks
table
and
stares
at
the
bottles.
In
the
flat,
STELLA
rises
with
the
kitten
and
goes
off
slowly,
nuzzling
it.
The
flat
fades
to
blackout.
JAMES
pours
himself
a
whisky.

Cheers.

JAMES.
Did you have a good time in Leeds last week?

BILL.
What?

JAMES.
Did you have a good time in Leeds last week?

BILL.
Leeds?

JAMES.
Did you enjoy yourself?

BILL.
What makes you think I was in Leeds.

JAMES.
Tell me all about it. See much of the town? Get out to the country at all?

BILL.
What are you talking about?

Pause.

JAMES
(with
fatigue).
Aaah. You were down there for the dress collection. You took some of your models.

BILL.
Did I?

JAMES.
You stayed at the Westbury Hotel.

BILL.
Oh?

JAMES.
Room 142.

BILL.
142? Oh. Was it comfortable?

JAMES.
Comfortable enough.

BILL.
Oh, good.

JAMES.
Well, you had your yellow pyjamas with you.

BILL.
Did I really? What, the ones with the black initials?

JAMES.
Yes, you had them on you in 165.

BILL.
In what?

JAMES.
165.

BILL.
165? I thought I was in 142.

JAMES.
You booked into 142. But you didn’t stay there.

BILL.
Well, that’s a bit silly, isn’t it? Booking a room and not staying in it?

JAMES.
165 is just along the passage to 142; you’re not far away.

BILL.
Oh well, that’s a relief.

JAMES.
You could easily nip back to shave.

BILL.
From 165?

JAMES.
Yes.

BILL.
What was I doing there?

JAMES
(
casually
)
.
My wife was in there. That’s where you slept with her.

Silence.

BILL.
Well… who told you that?

JAMES.
She did.

BILL.
You should have her seen to.

JAMES.
Be careful.

BILL.
Mmmm? Who is your wife?

JAMES.
You know her.

BILL.
I don’t think so.

JAMES.
No?

BILL.
No, I don’t think so at all.

JAMES.
I see.

BILL.
I was nowhere near Leeds last week, old chap. Nowhere near your wife either, I’m quite sure of that. Apart from that, I … just don’t do such things. Not in my book.

Pause.

I wouldn’t dream of it. Well, I think that closes that subject, don’t you?

JAMES.
Come here. I want to tell you something.

BILL.
I’m expecting guests in a minute, you know. Cocktails,

I’m standing for Parliament next season.

JAMES.
Come here.

BILL.
I’m going to be Minister for Home Affairs.

JAMES
moves
to
him.

JAMES
(
confidentially
).
When you treat my wife like a whore, then I think I’m entitled to know what you’ve got to say about it.

BILL.
But I don’t know your wife.

JAMES.
You do. You met her at ten o’clock last Friday in the lounge. You fell into conversation, you bought her a couple of drinks, you went upstairs together in the lift. In the lift you never took your eyes from her, you found you were both on the same floor, you helped her out, by her arm. You stood with her in the corridor, looking at her. You touched her shoulder, said good night, went to your room, she went to hers, you changed into your yellow pyjamas and black dressing-gown, you went down the passage and knocked on her door, you’d left your toothpaste in town. She opened the door, you went in, she was still dressed. You admired the room, it was so feminine, you felt awake, didn’t feel like sleeping, you sat down, on the bed. She wanted you to go, you wouldn’t. She became upset, you sympathized, away from home, on a business trip, horrible life, especially for a woman, you comforted her, you gave her solace, you stayed.

Pause.

BILL.
Look, do you mind … just going off now. You’re giving me a bit of a headache.

JAMES.
You knew she was married … why did you feel it necessary … to do that?

BILL.
She must have known she was married, too. Why did she feel it necessary … to do that?

Pause.

(
With
a
chuckle.
)
That’s got you, hasn’t it?

Pause.

Well, look, it’s really just a lot of rubbish. You know that.

BILL
goes
to
the
cigarette
box
and
lights
a
cigarette.