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Authors: Harold Pinter

Harold Pinter Plays 2 (9 page)

BOOK: Harold Pinter Plays 2
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Curtain

Two
weeks
later.

MICK
is
lying
on
the
floor,
down
left,
his
head
resting
on
the
rolled
carpet,
looking
up
at
the
ceiling.
DAVIES
is
sitting
in
the
chair,
holding
his
pipe.
He
is
wearing
the
smoking
jacket.
It
is
afternoon.
Silence.

DAVIES.
I got a feeling he’s done something to them cracks.

Pause.

See, there’s been plenty of rain in the last week, but it ain’t been dripping into the bucket.

Pause.

He must have tarred it over up there.

Pause.

There was someone walking about on the roof the other night. It must have been him.

Pause.

But I got a feeling he’s tarred it over on the roof up there. Ain’t said a word to me about it. Don’t say a word to me.

Pause.

He don’t answer me when I talk to him.

He
lights
a
match,
holds
it
to
his
pipe,
and
blows
it.

He don’t give me no knife!

Pause.

He don’t give me no knife to cut my bread.

Pause.

How can I cut a loaf of bread without no knife?

Pause.

It’s an impossibility.

Pause.

MICK.
You’ve got a knife.

DAVIES.
What?

MICK.
You’ve got a knife.

DAVIES.
I got a knife, sure I got a knife, but how do you expect me to cut a good loaf of bread with that? That’s not a bread-knife. It’s nothing to do with cutting bread. I picked it up somewhere. I don’t know where it’s been, do I? No, what I want—

MICK.
I know what you want.

Pause.
DAVIES
rises
and
goes
to
the
gas
stove.

DAVIES.
What about this gas stove? He tells me it’s not con nected. How do I know it’s not connected? Here I am, I’m sleeping right with it, I wake up in the middle of the night, I’m looking right into the oven, man! It’s right next to my face, how do I know, I could be lying there in bed, it might blow up, it might do me harm!

Pause.

But he don’t seem to take any notice of what I say to him. I told him the other day, see, I told him about them Blacks, about them Blacks coming up from next door, and using the lavatory. I told him, it was all dirty in there, all the banisters were dirty, they were black, all the lavatory was black. But what did he do? He’s supposed to be in charge of it here, he had nothing to say, he hadn’t got a word to say.

Pause.

Couple of weeks ago … he sat there, he give me a long chat … about a couple of weeks ago. A long chat he give me. Since then he ain’t said hardly a word. He went on talking there … I don’t know what he was … he wasn’t looking at me, he wasn’t talking to me, he don’t care about me. He was talking to himself! That’s all he worries about. I mean, you come up to me, you ask my advice, he
wouldn’t never do a thing like that. I mean, we don’t have any conversation, you see? You can’t live in the same room with someone who … who don’t have any conversation with you.

Pause.

I just can’t get the hang of him.

Pause.

You and me, we could get this place going.

MICK
(ruminatively).
Yes, you’re quite right. Look what I could do with this place.

Pause.

I could turn this place into a penthouse. For instance … this room. This room you could have as the kitchen. Right size, nice window, sun comes in. I’d have … I’d have teal-blue, copper and parchment linoleum squares. I’d have those colours re-echoed in the walls. I’d offset the kitchen units with charcoal-grey worktops. Plenty of room for cupboards for the crockery. We’d have a small wall cupboard, a large wall cupboard, a corner wall cupboard with revolving shelves. You wouldn’t be short of cupboards. You could put the dining-room across the landing, see? Yes. Venetian blinds on the window, cork floor, cork tiles. You could have an off-white pile linen rug, a table in … in afromosia teak veneer, sideboard with matt black drawers, curved chairs with cushioned seats, armchairs in oatmeal tweed, a beech frame settee with a woven sea-grass seat, white-topped heat-resistant coffee table, white tile surround. Yes. Then the bedroom. What’s a bedroom? It’s a retreat. It’s a place to go for rest and peace. So you want quiet decoration. The lighting functional. Furniture … mahogany and rosewood. Deep azure-blue carpet, unglazed blue and white curtains, a bedspread with a pattern of small blue roses on a white ground, dressing-table with a lift-up top containing a plastic tray, table lamp of white raffia… (
MICK
sits
up.)
it wouldn’t be a flat it’d be a palace.

DAVIES.
I’d say it would, man.

MICK.
A palace.

DAVIES.
Who would live there?

MICK.
I would. My brother and me.

Pause.

DAVIES.
What about me?

MICK
(quietly).
All this junk here, it’s no good to anyone. It’s just a lot of old iron, that’s all. Clobber. You couldn’t make a home out of this. There’s no way you could arrange it. It’s junk. He could never sell it, either, he wouldn’t get tuppence for it.

Pause.

Junk.

Pause.

But he doesn’t seem to be interested in what I got in mind, that’s the trouble. Why don’t you have a chat with him, see if he’s interested?

DAVIES.
Me?

MICK.
Yes. You’re a friend of his.

DAVIES.
He’s no friend of mine.

MICK.
You’re living in the same room with him, en’t you?

DAVIES.
He’s no friend of mine. You don’t know where you are with him. I mean, with a bloke like you, you know where you are.

MICK
looks
at
him.

I mean, you got your own ways, I’m not saying you ain’t got your own ways, anyone can see that. You may have some funny ways, but that’s the same with all of us, but with him it’s different, see? I mean at least with you, the thing with you is you’re…

MICK.
Straightforward.

DAVIES.
That’s it, you’re straightforward.

MICK.
Yes.

DAVIES.
But with him, you don’t know what he’s up to half the time!

MICK.
Uh.

DAVIES.
He’s got no feelings!

Pause.

See, what I need is a clock! I need a clock to tell the time! How can I tell the time without a clock? I can’t do it! I said to him, I said, look here, what about getting in a clock, so’s I can tell what time it is? I mean, if you can’t tell what time you’re at you don’t know where you are, you understand my meaning? See, what I got to do now, if I’m walking about outside, I got to get my eye on a clock, and keep the time in my head for when I come in. But that’s no good, I mean I’m not in here five minutes and I forgotten it. I forgotten what time it was!

DAVIES
walks
up
and
down
the
room.

Look at it this way. If I don’t feel well I have a bit of a lay down, then, when I wake up, I don’t know what time it is to go and have a cup of tea! You see, it’s not so bad when I’m coming in. I can see the clock on the corner, the moment I’m stepping into the house I know what the time is, but when I’m
in
!
It’s when I’m
in
… that I haven’t the foggi est idea what time it is!

Pause.

No, what I need is a clock in here, in this room, and then I stand a bit of a chance. But he don’t give me one.

DAVIES
sits
in
the
chair.

He wakes me up! He wakes me up in the middle of the night! Tells me I’m making noises! I tell you I’ve half a mind to give him a mouthful one of these days.

MICK.
He don’t let you sleep?

DAVIES.
He don’t let me sleep! He wakes me up!

MICK.
That’s terrible.

DAVIES.
I been plenty of other places. They always let
me sleep. It’s the same the whole world over. Except here.

MICK.
Sleep’s essential. I’ve always said that.

DAVIES.
You’re right, it’s essential. I get up in the morning, I’m worn out! I got business to see to. I got to move myself, I got to sort myself out, I got to get fixed up. But when I wake up in the morning, I ain’t got no energy in me. And on top of that I ain’t got no clock.

MICK.
Yes.

DAVIES
(standing,
moving).
He goes out, I don’t know where he goes to, where’s he go, he never tells me. We used to have a bit of a chat, not any more. I never see him, he goes out, he comes in late, next thing I know he’s shoving me about in the middle of the night.

Pause.

Listen! I wake up in the morning … I wake up in the morning and he’s smiling at me! He’s standing there, looking at me, smiling! I can see him, you see, I can see him through the blanket. He puts on his coat, he turns himself round, he looks down at my bed, there’s a smile on his face! What the hell’s he smiling at? What he don’t know is that I’m watching him through that blanket. He don’t know that! He don’t know I can see him, he thinks I’m asleep, but I got my eye on him all the time through the blanket, see? But he don’t know that! He just looks at me and he smiles, but he don’t know that I can see him doing it!

Pause.

(Bending
,
close
to
MICK
.) No, what you want to do, you want to speak to him, see? I got … I got that worked out. You want to tell him … that we got ideas for this place, we could build it up, we could get it started. You see, I could decorate it out for you, I could give you a hand in doing it … between us.

Pause.

Where do you live now, then?

MICK
. Me? Oh, I’ve got a little place. Not bad. Everything

laid on. You must come up and have a drink some time. Listen to some Tchaikovsky.

DAVIES.
No, you see, you’re the bloke who wants to talk to him. I mean, you’re his brother.

Pause.

MICK.
Yes … maybe I will.

A
door
bangs.
MICK
rises,
goes
to
the
door
and
exits.

DAVIES.
Where you going? This is him!

Silence.
DAVIES
stands,
then
goes
to
the
window
and
looks
out.
ASTON
enters.
He
is
carrying
a
paper
bag.
He
takes
off
his
overcoat,
opens
the
bag
and
takes
out
a
pair
of
shoes.

ASTON.
Pair of shoes.

DAVIES
(turning).
What?

ASTON.
I picked them up. Try them.

DAVIES.
Shoes? What sort?

ASTON.
They might do you.

DAVIES
comes
down
stage,
takes
off
his
sandals
and
tries
the
shoes
on.
He
walks
about,
waggling
his
feet,
bends,
and
presses
the
leather.

DAVIES.
No, they’re not right.

ASTON.
Aren’t they?

DAVIES.
No, they don’t fit.

ASTON.
Mmnn.

Pause.

DAVIES.
Well, I’ll tell you what, they might do … until I get another pair.

Pause.

Where’s the laces?

ASTON.
No laces.

DAVIES.
I can’t wear them without laces.

ASTON.
I just got the shoes.

DAVIES.
Well now, look that puts the lid on it, don’t it?

I mean, you couldn’t keep these shoes on right without a pair of laces. The only way to keep a pair of shoes on, if you haven’t got no laces, is to tighten the foot, see? Walk about with a tight foot, see? Well, that’s no good for the foot. Puts a bad strain on the foot. If you can do the shoes up proper there’s less chance of you getting a strain.

ASTON
goes
round
to
the
top
of
his
bed.

ASTON.
I might have some somewhere.

DAVIES.
You see what I’m getting at?

Pause.

ASTON.
Here’s some.
(He
hands
them
to
DAVIES
.)

DAVIES.
These are brown.

ASTON.
That’s all I got.

DAVIES.
These shoes are black.

ASTON
does
not
answer.

Well, they can do, anyway, until I get another pair.

DAVIES
sits
in
the
chair
and
begins
to
lace
his
shoes.

BOOK: Harold Pinter Plays 2
2.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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