KATE
(To ANNA.) And do you like the Sicilian people?
DEELEY
I’ve been there. There’s nothing more to see, there’s nothing more to investigate, nothing. There’s nothing more in Sicily to investigate.
KATE
(To ANNA.) Do you like the Sicilian people?
ANNA stares at her.
Silence
ANNA
(Quietly.) Don’t let’s go out tonight, don’t let’s go anywhere tonight, let’s stay in. I’ll cook something, you can wash your hair, you can relax, we’ll put on some records.
KATE
Oh, I don’t know. We could go out.
ANNA
Why do you want to go out?
KATE
We could walk across the park.
ANNA
The park is dirty at night, all sorts of horrible people, men hiding behind trees and women with terrible voices, they scream at you as you go past, and people come out suddenly from behind trees and bushes and there are shadows everywhere and there are policemen, and you’ll have a horrible walk, and you’ll see all the traffic and the noise of the traffic and you’ll see all the hotels, and you know you hate looking through all those swing doors, you hate it, to see all that, all those people in the lights in the lobbies all talking and moving … and all the chandeliers …
Pause
You’ll only want to come home if you go out. You’ll want to run home … and into your room….
Pause
KATE
What shall we do then?
ANNA
Stay in. Shall I read to you? Would you like that?
KATE
I don’t know.
Pause
ANNA
Are you hungry?
KATE
No.
DEELEY
Hungry? After that casserole?
Pause
KATE
What shall I wear tomorrow? I can’t make up my mind.
ANNA
Wear your green.
KATE
I haven’t got the right top.
ANNA
You have. You have your turquoise blouse.
KATE
Do they go?
ANNA
Yes, they do go. Of course they go.
KATE
I’ll try it.
Pause
ANNA
Would you like me to ask someone over?
KATE
Who?
ANNA
Charley … or Jake?
KATE
I don’t like Jake.
ANNA
Well, Charley … or …
KATE
Who?
ANNA
McCabe.
Pause
KATE
I’ll think about it in the bath.
ANNA
Shall I run your bath for you?
KATE
(Standing.) No. I’ll run it myself tonight.
KATE slowly walks to the bedroom door, goes out, closes it.
DEELEY stands looking at ANNA.
ANNA turns her head towards him.
They look at each other.
FADE
ACT TWO
The bedroom.
A long window up centre. Door to bathroom up left. Door to sitting-room up right.
Two divans. An armchair.
The divans and armchair are disposed in precisely the same relation to each other as the furniture in the first act, but in reversed positions.
Lights dim. ANNA discerned sitting on divan. Faint glow from glass panel in bathroom door.
Silence.
Lights up. The other door opens. DEELEY comes in with tray.
DEELEY comes into the room, places the tray on a table.
DEELEY
Here we are. Good and hot. Good and strong and hot. You prefer it white with sugar, I believe?
ANNA
Please.
DEELEY
(Pouring.) Good and strong and hot with white and sugar.
He hands her the cup.
Like the room?
ANNA
Yes.
DEELEY
We sleep here. These are beds. The great thing about these beds is that they are susceptible to any amount of permutation. They can be separated as they are now. Or placed at right angles, or one can bisect the other, or you can sleep feet to feet, or head to head, or side by side. It’s the castors that make all this possible.
He sits with coffee.
Yes, I remember you quite clearly from The Wayfarers.
ANNA
The what?
DEELEY
The Wayfarers Tavern, just off the Brompton Road.
ANNA
When was that?
DEELEY
Years ago.
ANNA
I don’t think so.
DEELEY
Oh yes, it was you, no question. I never forget a face. You sat in the corner, quite often, sometimes alone, sometimes with others. And here you are, sitting in my house in the country. The same woman. Incredible. Fellow called Luke used to go in there. You knew him.
ANNA
Luke?
DEELEY
Big chap. Ginger hair. Ginger beard.
ANNA
I don’t honestly think so.
DEELEY
Yes, a whole crowd of them, poets, stunt men, jockeys, stand-up comedians, that kind of setup. You used to wear a scarf, that’s right, a black scarf, and a black sweater, and a skirt.
ANNA
Me?
DEELEY
And black stockings. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten The Wayfarers Tavern? You might have forgotten the name but you must remember the pub. You were the darling of the saloon bar.
ANNA
I wasn’t rich, you know. I didn’t have money for alcohol.
DEELEY
You had escorts. You didn’t have to pay. You were looked after. I bought you a few drinks myself.
ANNA
You?
DEELEY
Sure.
ANNA
Never.
DEELEY
It’s the truth. I remember clearly.
Pause
ANNA
You?
DEELEY
I’ve bought you drinks.
Pause
Twenty years ago … or so.
ANNA
You’re saying we’ve met before?
DEELEY
Of course we’ve met before.
Pause
We’ve talked before. In that pub, for example. In the corner. Luke didn’t like it much but we ignored him. Later we all went to a party. Someone’s flat, somewhere in Westbourne Grove. You sat on a very low sofa, I sat opposite and looked up your skirt. Your black stockings were very black because your thighs were so white. That’s something that’s all over now, of course, isn’t it, nothing like the same palpable profit in it now, it’s all over. But it was worthwhile then. It was worthwhile that night. I simply sat sipping my light ale and gazed … gazed up your skirt. You didn’t object, you found my gaze perfectly acceptable.
ANNA
I was aware of your gaze, was I?
DEELEY
There was a great argument going on, about China or something, or death, or China and death, I can’t remember which, but nobody but I had a thigh-kissing view, nobody but you had the thighs which kissed. And here you are. Same woman. Same thighs.
Pause
Yes. Then a friend of yours came in, a girl, a girl friend. She sat on the sofa with you, you both chatted and chuckled, sitting together, and I settled lower to gaze at you both, at both your thighs, squealing and hissing, you aware, she unaware, but then a great multitude of men surrounded me, and demanded my opinion about death, or about China, or whatever it was, and they would not let me be but bent down over me, so that what with their stinking breath and their broken teeth and the hair in their noses a
nd China and death and their arses on the arms of my chair I was forced to get up and plunge my way through them, followed by them with ferocity, as if I were the cause of their argument, looking back through smoke, rushing to the table with the linoleum cover to look for one more full bottle of light ale, looking back through smoke, glimpsing two girls on the sofa, one of them you, heads close, whispering, no longer able to see anything, no longer able to see stocking or thigh, and then you were gone. I wandered over to the sofa. There was no one on it. I gazed at the indentations of four buttocks. Two of which were yours.
Pause
ANNA
I’ve rarely heard a sadder story.
DEELEY
I agree.
ANNA
I’m terribly sorry.
DEELEY
That’s all right.
Pause
I never saw you again. You disappeared from the area. Perhaps you moved out.
ANNA
No. I didn’t.
DEELEY
I never saw you in The Wayfarers Tavern again. Where were you?
ANNA
Oh, at concerts, I should think, or the ballet.
Silence
Katey’s taking a long time over her bath.
DEELEY
Well, you know what she’s like when she gets in the bath.
ANNA
Yes.
DEELEY
Enjoys it. Takes a long time over it.
ANNA
She does, yes.
DEELEY
A hell of a long time. Luxuriates in it. Gives herself a great soaping all over.
Pause
Really soaps herself all over, and then washes the soap off, sud by sud. Meticulously. She’s both thorough and, I must say it, sensuous. Gives herself a comprehensive going over, and apart from everything else she does emerge as clean as a new pin. Don’t you think?
ANNA
Very clean.
DEELEY
Truly so. Not a speck. Not a tidemark. Shiny as a balloon.
ANNA
Yes, a kind of floating.
DEELEY
What?
ANNA
She floats from the bath. Like a dream. Unaware of anyone standing, with her towel, waiting for her, waiting to wrap it round her. Quite absorbed.
Pause
Until the towel is placed on her shoulders.
Pause
DEELEY
Of course she’s so totally incompetent at drying herself properly, did you find that? She gives herself a really good scrub, but can she with the same efficiency give herself an equally good rub? I have found, in my experience of her, that this is not in fact the case. You’ll always find a few odd unexpected unwanted cheeky globules dripping about.
ANNA
Why don’t you dry her yourself?
DEELEY
Would you recommend that?
ANNA
You’d do it properly.
DEELEY
In her bath towel?
ANNA
How out?
DEELEY
How out?
ANNA
How could you dry her out? Out of her bath towel?
DEELEY
I don’t know.
ANNA
Well, dry her yourself, in her bath towel.
Pause
DEELEY
Why don’t you dry her in her bath towel?
ANNA
Me?
DEELEY
You’d do it properly.
ANNA
No, no.
DEELEY
Surely? I mean, you’re a woman, you know how and where and in what density moisture collects on women’s bodies.
ANNA
No two women are the same.
DEELEY
Well, that’s true enough.
Pause
I’ve got a brilliant idea. Why don’t we do it with powder?
ANNA
Is that a brilliant idea?
DEELEY
Isn’t it?
ANNA
It’s quite common to powder yourself after a bath.
DEELEY
It’s quite common to powder yourself after a bath but it’s quite uncommon to be powdered. Or is it? It’s not common where I come from, I can tell you. My mother would have a fit.
Pause
Listen. I’ll tell you what. I’ll do it. I’ll do the whole lot. The towel and the powder. After all, I am her husband. But you can supervise the whole thing. And give me some hot tips while you’re at it. That’ll kill two birds with one stone.
Pause
(To himself.) Christ.
He looks at her slowly.
You must be about forty, I should think, by now.
Pause
If I walked into The Wayfarers Tavern now, and saw you sitting in the corner, I wouldn’t recognize you.
The bathroom door opens. KATE comes into the bedroom. She wears a bathrobe.
She smiles at DEELEY and ANNA.
KATE
(With pleasure.) Aaahh.
She walks to the window and looks out into the night. DEELEY and ANNA watch her.
DEELEY begins to sing softly.
DEELEY
(Singing.) The way you wear your hat …
ANNA
(Singing, softly.) The way you sip your tea …
DEELEY
(Singing.) The memory of all that …
ANNA
(Singing.) No, no, they can’t take that away from me …
KATE turns from the window to look at them.
ANNA
(Singing.) The way your smile just beams …
DEELEY
(Singing.) The way you sing off key …
ANNA
(Singing.) The way you haunt my dreams …
DEELEY
(Singing.) No, no, they can’t take that away from me …
KATE walks down towards them and stands, smiling, ANNA and DEELEY sing again, faster on cue, and more perfunctorily.
ANNA
(Singing.) The way you hold your knife –
DEELEY
(Singing.) The way we danced till three –
ANNA
(Singing.) The way you’ve changed my life –
DEELEY
No, no, they can’t take that away from me.
KATE sits on a divan.
ANNA
(To DEELEY.) Doesn’t she look beautiful?
DEELEY
Doesn’t she?
KATE
Thank you. I feel fresh. The water’s very soft here. Much softer than London. I always find the water very hard in London. That’s one reason I like living in the country. Everything’s softer. The water, the light, the shapes, the sounds. There aren’t such edges here. And living close to the sea too. You can’t say where it begins or ends. That appeals to me. I don’t care for harsh lines. I deplore that kind of urgency. I’d like to go to the East, or somewhere like that, somewhere very hot, where you can lie under a mosquito net and breathe quite slowly. You know … somewhere where you can look through the flap of a tent and see sand, that kind of thing. The only nice thing about a big city is that when it rains it blurs everything, and it blurs the lights from the cars, doesn’t it, and blurs your eyes, and you have rain on your lashes. That’s the only nice thing about a big city.
ANNA
That’s not the only nice thing. You can have a nice room and a nice gas fire and a warm dressing gown and a nice hot drink, all waiting for you for when you come in.
Pause
KATE
Is it raining?
ANNA
No.
KATE
Well, I’ve decided I will stay in tonight anyway.
ANNA
Oh good. I am glad. Now you can have a good strong cap of coffee after your bath.
ANNA stands, goes to coffee, pours.
I could do the hem on your black dress. I could finish it and you could try it on.
KATE
Mmmnn.
ANNA hands her her coffee.
ANNA
Or I could read to you.
DEELEY
Have you dried yourself properly, Kate?
KATE
I think so.
DEELEY
Are you sure? All over?
KATE
I think so. I feel quite dry.
DEELEY
Are you quite sure? I don’t want you sitting here damply all over the place.
KATE smiles.
See that smile? That’s the same smile she smiled when I was walking down the street with her, after Odd Man Out, well, quite some time after.
What did you think of it?
ANNA
It is a very beautiful smile.
DEELEY
Do it again.
KATE
I’m still smiling.
DEELEY
You’re not. Not like you were a moment ago, not like you did then.
(To ANNA.) You know the smile I’m talking about?
KATE
This coffee’s cold.
Pause
ANNA
Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll make some fresh.
KATE
No, I don’t want any, thank you.
Pause
Is Charley coming?
ANNA
I can ring him if you like.
KATE
What about McCabe?
ANNA
Do you really want to see anyone?
KATE
I don’t think I like McCabe.
ANNA
Nor do I.
KATE
He’s strange. He says some very strange things to me.
ANNA
What things?
KATE
Oh, all sorts of funny things.
ANNA
I’ve never liked him.
KATE
Duncan’s nice though, isn’t he?
ANNA
Oh yes.
KATE
I like his poetry so much.
Pause
But you know who I like best?
ANNA
Who?
KATE
Christy.
ANNA
He’s lovely.
KATE
He’s so gentle, isn’t he? And his humour. Hasn’t he got a lovely sense of humour? And I think he’s … so sensitive. Why don’t you ask him round?
DEELEY
He can’t make it. He’s out of town.
KATE
Oh, what a pity.
Silence
DEELEY
(To ANNA.) Are you intending to visit anyone else while you’re in England? Relations? Cousins? Brothers?
ANNA
Harold Pinter Plays 3 Page 18
