Harold Pinter Plays 2 (27 page)

MILLY.
Yes!

WALTER.
Well … not through my own fault. I’ve always done my best.

MILLY.
And where’s it got you?

WALTER.
What’s this, you reproaching me?

ANNIE.
Your aunt’s not one to go around reproaching people, Walter.

MILLY.
Live and let live, that’s my motto.

ANNIE.
And mine.

MILLY.
It’s always been my motto, you ask anyone.

WALTER.
Listen, you don’t understand. This is my home. I live here. I’ve lived in that room for years –

ANNIE.
On and off.

WALTER.
You’re asking me to sleep on that put-u-up? The only person who ever slept on that put-u-up was Aunty Gracy. That’s why she went to America.

MILLY.
She slept in it for five years with Uncle Alf, Grace did. They never had a word of complaint.

WALTER.
Uncle Alf! Honest, this has knocked me for … for six. I can’t believe it. But I’ll tell you one thing about that bed she’s sleeping in.

ANNIE.
What’s the matter with it?

WALTER.
There’s nothing the matter with it. It’s mine, that’s all – I bought it.

ANNIE.
So he did, Milly.

MILLY.
You? I thought I bought it.

ANNIE.
That’s right. You did. I remember.

WALTER.
You bought it, you went out and chose it, but who gave you the money to buy it?

ANNIE.
Yes, he’s right. He did.

WALTER.
I mean … what’s happened to my damn things? What’s happened to my case? The one I left here?

ANNIE.
Well, she didn’t mind us leaving your things in the cupboard, did she, Milly?

WALTER.
Things? That’s my life’s work!

Pause.

She’ll have to go, that’s all.

MILLY.
She’s not going.

WALTER.
Why not?

ANNIE.
She’s not going to go.

MILLY.
I should say not. She’s staying.

Pause.

WALTER
(
with
fatigue
).
Why can’t she sleep on the put-u-up?

ANNIE.
Put a lovely girl like that on the put-u-up? In the dining-room?

WALTER.
She’s lovely, is she?

MILLY.
You should see the beauty cream on her dressing-table.

WALTER.
My dressing-table.

MILLY.
I like a girl who looks after herself.

ANNIE.
She gives herself a good going over every night.

MILLY.
She’s never out of the bath. Morning and night. On the nights she goes to night school, she has one before she goes out; other nights she has it just before she goes to bed.

WALTER.
Well, she couldn’t have it after she’s gone to bed, could she?

Pause.

Night school? What kind of night school?

MILLY.
She’s studying foreign languages there. She’s learning to speak two more languages.

ANNIE.
Yes, you can smell her up and down the house.

WALTER.
Smell her?

ANNIE.
Lovely perfumes she puts on.

MILLY.
Yes, I’ll say that, it’s a pleasure to smell her.

WALTER.
Is it?

ANNIE.
There’s nothing wrong with a bit of perfume.

MILLY.
We’re not narrow-minded over a bit of perfume.

ANNIE.
She’s up to date, that’s all.

MILLY.
Up to the latest fashion.

ANNIE.
I was, when I was a girl.

MILLY.
What about me?

ANNIE.
So were you. But you weren’t as up to date as I was.

MILLY.
I was. I didn’t have anything coming over me.

Pause.

WALTER.
Does she know where I’ve been?

ANNIE.
Oh, yes.

WALTER.
You told her I’ve been in the nick?

ANNIE.
Oh, we told her, yes.

WALTER.
Did you tell her why?

MILLY.
Oh, no. Oh no, we didn’t tell her why.

ANNIE.
Oh, no, we didn’t discuss that … But I mean it didn’t worry her, did it, Milly? I mean she was very interested. Oh, she was terribly interested.

WALTER
(
slowly
).
She was, was she?

ANNIE.
Yes.

Walter
stands
abruptly,
slamming
the
table.

WALTER.
Where am I going to put my case?

ANNIE.
You can put it in the hall.

WALTER.
The hall? That means I’ll have to keep running out to the hall whenever I want anything.

Pause.

I can’t live in these conditions for long. I’m used to something better. I’m used to privacy. I could have her walking in here any time of the day or night. This is the living-room. I don’t want to share my meals with a stranger.

ANNIE.
She only has bed and breakfast. I take it up to her room.

WALTER.
What does she have?

ANNIE.
She has a nice piece of bacon with a poached egg, and she enjoys every minute of it.

WALTER.
For thirty-five and six a week? They’re charging three pounds ten everywhere up and down the country. She’s doing you. She’s got hot and cold running water, every comfort, breakfast in a first-class bed. She’s taking you for a ride.

ANNIE.
No, she’s not.

Pause.

WALTER.
I left something in my room. I’m going to get it.

He
goes
out
and
up
the
stairs.
The
bathroom
door
opens
and
SALLY
comes
out.
She
descends
the
stairs
half-way
down.
They
meet.

SALLY.
Mr Street?

WALTER.
Yes.

SALLY.
I’m so pleased to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.

WALTER.
Oh yes.

Pause.

I … er …

SALLY.
Your aunts are charming people.

WALTER.
Mmmm.

Pause.

SALLY.
Are you glad to be back?

WALTER.
I’ve left something in my room. I’ve got to get it.

SALLY.
Oh, well, we’ll meet again. Bye-bye.

She
goes
to
her
room.
He
follows.

The
footsteps
stop.

WALTER.
Could I just …?

SALLY.
What?

WALTER.
Come in.

SALLY.
Come in? But … well, yes … do … if you want to.

They
go
in.
WALTER
shuts
the
door,
follows
her.

I’m sorry. Everything’s all over the place. I’m at school all day. I don’t have much time to tidy up.

Pause.

I believe I’m teaching at the school you went to. In the infants.

WALTER.
Round the corner? Yes, I went there.

SALLY.
You wouldn’t believe all the things I’ve heard about you. You’re the apple of your aunts’ eyes.

WALTER.
So are you.

Pause.

SALLY.
I’m happy here. I get on very well with them.

WALTER.
Look … I’ve got to get something in here …

SALLY.
In here? I thought you said you’d left something in your room.

WALTER.
This is my room.

Pause.

SALLY.
This?

WALTER.
You’ve taken my room.

SALLY.
Have I? I never … realized that Nobody ever told me that. I’m terribly sorry. Do you want it back?

WALTER.
I wouldn’t mind.

SALLY.
Oh dear … this is very awkward … I must say I’m very comfortable here … I mean, where else could I sleep?

WALTER.
There’s a put-u-up downstairs.

SALLY.
Oh, I don’t trust those things, do you? I mean, this is such a lovely bed.

WALTER.
I know it is. It’s mine.

SALLY.
You mean I’m sleeping in your bed?

WALTER.
Yes.

SALLY.
Oh.

Pause.

WALTER.
I’ve got something in here I want to get.

SALLY.
Well … carry on.

WALTER.
It’s in a rather private place.

SALLY.
Do you want me to go out?

WALTER.
Yes, if you don’t mind.

SALLY.
Go out of the room, you mean?

WALTER.
It won’t take me a minute.

SALLY.
What are you looking for?

WALTER.
It’s a private matter.

SALLY.
Is it a gun?

Pause.

Can’t I turn my back?

WALTER.
Two minutes. That’s all I want.

SALLY.
All right. Two minutes.

She
leaves
the
room
and
stands
on
the
landing
outside
the
door.
WALTER
grunts
and
mutters
to
himself.

WALTER.
Look at those frills. Frills … all over the place. Bloody dolls’ house. My damn room.

SALLY’S VOICE
is
heard
from
the
landing.

SALLY.
Are you finished?

WALTER.
Just a minute.

He
opens
the
cupboard
and
rummages.

(
Muttering
.)
Where’s that damn case? Wait a minute … what’s this?

Sound
of
large
envelope
tearing.

(
Softly.
)
Gaw … huuhh!

SALLY.
All right?

WALTER.
Yes. Thank you.

SALLY
enters
the
room.

SALLY.
Find it?

WALTER.
Yes, thank you.

He
goes
to
the
door.

What do you teach – ballet?

SALLY.
Ballet? No. What a funny question.

WALTER.
Not funny. Lots of women teach ballet.

SALLY.
I don’t dance.

Pause.

WALTER.
I’m sorry I disturbed your … evening.

SALLY.
That’s all right.

WALTER.
Good night.

SALLY.
Good night.

Fade
out.

Fade in.

ANNIE.
Have another piece of lemon meringue, Mr Solto.

SOLTO.
With pleasure.

ANNIE.
You’ll like it.

SOLTO.
They wanted three hundred and fifty pounds income tax off me the other day. My word of honour. I said to them, you must be mad! What are you trying to do, bring me to an early death? Buy me a cheap spade I’ll get up first thing in the morning before breakfast and dig my own grave. Three hundred and fifty-five nicker, eh? I said to them, I said, show me it, I said show me it down in black and white, show me where I’ve earned – must be round about a thousand pound, you ask me for all that. It’s an estimate, they said, we’ve estimated your earnings. An estimate? Who did your
estimate
? A blind man with double vision? I’m an old-age pensioner. I’m in receipt of three pound a week, find me something to estimate! What do you say, Walter?