Harold Pinter Plays 2 (23 page)

JOHN.
Cream?

SARAH.
You’re very late.

JOHN.
Cream?

SARAH.
No, thank you.

JOHN.
Why not?

SARAH.
I have some. Do I owe you anything?

JOHN.
Mrs. Owen just had three jars. Clotted.

SARAH.
What do I owe you?

JOHN.
It’s not Saturday yet.

SARAH
(
taking
the
milk).
Thank you.

JOHN.
Don’t you fancy any cream? Mrs. Owen had three jars.

SARAH.
Thank you.

She
closes
the
door.
Goes
into
the
kitchen
with
milk.
Comes
back
with
a
tea-tray,
holding
teapot
and
cups,
sets
it
on
small
table
above
chaise
longue.
She
briefly
attends
to
the
flowers,
sits
on
the
chaise
longue,
crosses
her
legs,
uncrosses
them,
puts
her
legs
up
on
chaise
longue,
smooths
her
stockings
under
her
skirt.
The
doorbell
rings.
Pulling
her
dress
down
she
moves
to
the
door,
opens
it.

Hallo, Max.

RICHARD
comes
in.
He
is
wearing
a
suede
jacket,
and
no
tie.

He
walks
into
the
room
and
stands.

She
closes
the
door
behind
him.
Walks
slowly
down
past
him,
and
sits
on
the
chaise
longue,
crossing
her
legs.

Pause.

He
moves
slowly
to
chaise
longue
and
stands
very
close
to
her
at
her
back.
She
arches
her
back,
uncrosses
her
legs,
moves
away
to
low
chair
down
left.

Pause.

He
looks
at
her,
then
moves
towards
the
hall
cupboard,
brings
out
a
bongo
drum.
He
places
the
drum
on
the
chaise
longue,
stands.

Pause.

She
rises,
moves
past
him
towards
the
hall,
turns,
looks
at
him. He
moves
below
chaise.
They
sit
at
either
end.
He
begins
to tap
the
drum.
Her
forefinger
moves
along
drum
towards
his
hand.
She
scratches
the
back
of
his
hand
sharply.
Her
hand
retreats.
Her
fingers
tap
one
after
the
other
towards him
,
and
rest.
Her
forefinger
scratches
between
his
fingers.
Her
other
fingers
do
the
same.
His
legs
tauten.
His
hand
clasps
hers.
Her
hand
tries
to
escape.
Wild
beats
of
their
fingers
tangling.
Stillness.

She
gets
up,
goes
to
drinks
table,
lights
a
cigarette,
moves
to
window.
He
puts
drum
down
on
chair
down
right,
picks
up
cigarette,
moves
to
her.

MAX.
Excuse me.

She
glances
at
him
and
away.

Excuse me, have you got a light?

She
does
not
respond.

Do you happen to have a light?

SARAH.
Do you mind leaving me alone?

MAX.
Why?

Pause.

I’m merely asking if you can give me a light.

She
moves
from
him
and
looks
up
and
down
the
room.
He
follows
to
her
shoulder.
She
turns
back.

SARAH.
Excuse me.

She
moves
past
him.
Close,
his
body
follows.
She
stops.

I don’t like being followed.

MAX.
Just give me a light and I won’t bother you. That’s all I want.

SARAH
(
through
her
teeth
).
Please go away. I’m waiting for someone.

MAX.
Who?

SARAH.
My husband.

MAX
.
Why are you so shy? Eh? Where’s your lighter?

He
touches
her
body.
An
indrawn
breath
from
her.

Here?

Pause.

Where is it?

He
touches
her
body.
A
gasp
from
her.

Here?

She
wrenches
herself
away.
He
traps
her
in
the
corner.

SARAH
(
hissing
).
What do you think you’re doing?

MAX.
I’m dying for a puff.

SARAH.
I’m waiting for my husband!

MAX.
Let me get a light from yours.

They
struggle
silently.

She
breaks
away
to
wall.

Silence.

He
approaches.

Are you all right, miss? I’ve just got rid of that … gentleman. Did he hurt you in any way?

SARAH.
Oh, how wonderful of you. No, no, I’m all right.

Thank you.

MAX.
Very lucky I happened to be passing. You wouldn’t believe that could happen in such a beautiful park.

SARAH.
No, you wouldn’t.

MAX.
Still, you’ve come to no harm.

SARAH.
I can never thank you enough. I’m terribly grateful, I really am.

MAX.
Why don’t you sit down a second and calm yourself.

SARAH.
Oh, I’m quite calm – but… yes, thank you. You’re so kind. Where shall we sit.

MAX.
Well, we can’t sit out. It’s raining. What about that park-keeper’s hut?

SARAH.
Do you think we should? I mean, what about the park-keeper?

MAX.
I am the park-keeper.

They
sit
an
the
chaise
longue.

SARAH.
I never imagined I could meet anyone so kind.

MAX.
To treat a lovely young woman like you like that, it’s unpardonable.

SARAH
(
gazing
at
him
).
You seem so mature, so … appreciative.

MAX.
Of course.

SARAH.
So gentle. So … Perhaps it was all for the best.

MAX.
What do you mean?

SARAH.
So that we could meet. So that we could meet. You and I.

Her
fingers
trace
his
thigh.
He
stares
at
them,
lifts
them
off.

MAX.
I don’t quite follow you. 

SARAH.
Don’t you?

Her
fingers
trace
his
thigh.
He
stares
at
them,
lifts
them
off.

MAX.
Now look, I’m sorry. I’m married.

She
takes
his
hand
and
puts
it
on
her
knee.

SARAH.
You’re so sweet, you mustn’t worry.

MAX
(
snatching
his
hand
away
).
No, I really am. My wife’s waiting for me.

SARAH.
Can’t you speak to strange girls?

MAX.
No.

SARAH.
Oh, how sickening you are. How tepid.

MAX.
I’m sorry.

SARAH.
You men are all alike. Give me a cigarette.

MAX.
I bloody well won’t.

SARAH.
I beg your pardon?

MAX.
Come here, Dolores.

SARAH.
Oh no, not me. Once bitten twice shy, thanks. (
She
stands.
)
Bye-bye.

MAX.
You can’t get out, darling. The hut’s locked. We’re alone. You’re trapped.

SARAH.
Trapped! I’m a married woman. You can’t treat me like this.

MAX
(
moving
to
her
).
It’s teatime, Mary.

She
moves
swiftly
behind
the
table
and
stands
there
with
her
back
to
the
wall.
He
moves
to
the
opposite
end
of
the
table,
hitches
his
trousers,
bends
and
begins
to
crawl
under
the
table
towards
her.

He
disappears
under
the
velvet
cloth.
Silence.
She
stares
down
at
the
table.
Her
legs
are
hidden
from
view.
His
hand
is
on
her
leg.
She
looks
about,
grimaces,
grits
her
teeth,
gasps,
gradually
sinks
under
the
table,
and
disappears.
Long
silence.

HER
VOICE.
Max!

Lights
fade.

Fade
up.

MAX
sitting
on
chair
down
left.

SARAH
pouring
tea.

SARAH.
Max.

MAX.
What?

SARAH
(
fondly
).
Darling.

Slight
pause.

What is it? You’re very thoughtful.

MAX.
No.

SARAH.
You are. I know it.

Pause.

MAX.
Where’s your husband?

Pause.

SARAH.
My husband? You know where he is.

MAX.
Where?

SARAH.
He’s at work.

MAX.
Poor fellow. Working away, all day.

Pause.

I wonder what he’s like.

SARAH
(
chuckling
).
Oh, Max.

MAX.
I wonder if we’d get on. I wonder if we’d … you know … hit it off.