Complete Works, Volume II

by Harold Pinter

  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.

  Is she supposed to have resisted me at all?

  JAMES. A little.

  BILL. Only a little?

  JAMES. Yes.

  BILL. Do you believe her?

  JAMES. Yes.

  BILL. Everything she says?

  JAMES. Sure.

  BILL. Did she bite at all?

  JAMES. No.

  BILL. Scratch?

  JAMES. A little.

  BILL. You've got a devoted wife, haven't you? Keeps you well informed, right up to the minutest detail. She scratched a little, did she? Where? (Holds up a hand.) On the hand? No scar. No scar anywhere. Absolutely unscarred. We can go before a commissioner of oaths, if you like. I'll strip, show you my unscarred body. Yes, what we need is an independent witness. You got any chambermaids on your side or anything?

  JAMES applauds briefly.

  JAMES. You're a wag, aren't you? I never thought you'd be such a wag. You've really got a sense of fun. You know what I'd call you?

  BILL. What?

  JAMES. A wag.

  BILL. Oh, thanks very much.

  JAMES. No, I'm glad to pay a compliment when a compliment's due. What about a drink?

  BILL. That's good of you.

  JAMES. What will you have?

  BILL. Got any vodka?

  JAMES. Let's see. Yes, I think we can find you some vodka.

  BILL. Oh, scrumptious.

  JAMES. Say that again.

  BILL. What?

  JAMES. That word.

  BILL. What, scrumptious?

  JAMES. That's it.

  BILL. Scrumptious.

  JAMES. Marvellous. You probably remember that from school, don't you?

  BILL. Now that you mention it I think you might be right.

  JAMES. I thought I was. Here's your vodka.

  BILL. That's very generous of you.

  JAMES. Not at all. Cheers. (They drink.)

  BILL. Cheers.

  JAMES. Eh, come here.

  BILL. What?

  JAMES. I bet you're a wow at parties.

  BILL. Well, it's nice of you to say so, but I wouldn't say I was all that much of a wow.

  JAMES. Go on, I bet you are. (Pause.)

  BILL. You think I'm a wow, do you?

  JAMES. At parties I should think you are.

  BILL. No, I'm not much of a wow really. The bloke I share this house with is, though.

  JAMES. Oh, I met him. Looked a jolly kind of chap.

  BILL. Yes, he's very good at parties. Bit of a conjurer.

  JAMES. What, rabbits?

  BILL. Well, not so much rabbits, no.

  JAMES. No rabbits?

  BILL. No. He doesn't like rabbits, actually. They give him hay fever.

  JAMES. Poor chap.

  BILL. Yes, it's a pity.

  JAMES. Seen a doctor about it?

  BILL. Oh, he's had it since he was that high.

  JAMES. Brought up in the country, I suppose?

  BILL. In a manner of speaking, yes.

  Pause.

  Ah well, it's been very nice meeting you, old chap. You must come again when the weather's better.

  JAMES makes a sudden move forward. BILL starts back, and falls over a pouffe on to the floor. JAMES chuckles. Pause.

  You've made me spill my drink. You've made me spill it on my cardigan.

  JAMES stands over him.

  I could easily kick you from here.

  Pause.

  Are you going to let me get up?

  Pause.

  Are you going to let me get up?

  Pause.

  Now listen . . . I'll tell you what . . .

  Pause.

  If you let me get up . . .

  Pause.

  I'm not very comfortable.

  Pause.

  If you let me get up . . . I'll . . . I'll tell you . . . the truth . . .

  Pause.

  JAMES. Tell me the truth from there.

  BILL. No. No, when I'm up.

  JAMES. Tell me from there.

  Pause.

  BILL. Oh well. I'm only telling you because I'm utterly bored . . . The truth . . . is that it never happened . . . what you said, anyway. I didn't know she was married. She never told me. Never said a word. But nothing of that . . . happened, I can assure you. All that happened was . . . you were right, actually, about going up in the lift . . . we . . . got out of the lift, and then suddenly she was in my arms. Really wasn't my fault, nothing was further from my mind, biggest surprise of my life, must have found me terribly attractive quite suddenly, I don't know . . . but I . . . I didn't refuse. Anyway, we just kissed a bit, only a few minutes, by the lift, no one about, and that was that – she went to her room.

  He props himself up on the pouffe.

  The rest of it just didn't happen. I mean, I wouldn't do that sort of thing. I mean, that sort of thing . . . it's just meaningless. I can understand that you're upset, of course, but honestly, there was nothing else to it. Just a few kisses. (BILL rises, wiping his cardigan.) I'm dreadfully sorry, really, I mean, I've no idea why she should make up all that. Pure fantasy. Really rather naughty of her. Rather alarming. (Pause.) Do you know her well?

  JAMES. And then about midnight you went into her private bathroom and had a bath. You sang ‘Coming through the Rye’. You used her bath towel. Then you walked about the room with her bath towel, pretending you were a Roman.

  BILL. Did I?

  JAMES. Then I phoned.

  Pause.

  I spoke to her. Asked her how she was. She said she was all right. Her voice was a little low. I asked her to speak up. She didn't have much to say. You were sitting on the bed, next to her.

  Silence.

  BILL. Not sitting. Lying.

  Blackout.

  Church bells.

  Full light up on both the flat and the house.

  Sunday morning.

  JAMES is sitting alone in the living-room of the flat, reading the paper. HARRY and BILL are sitting in the living-room of the house, coffee before them. BILL is reading the paper.

  HARRY is watching him.

  Silence.

  Church bells.

  Silence.

  HARRY. Put that paper down.

  BILL. What?

  HARRY. Put it down.

  BILL. Why?

  HARRY. You've read it.

  BILL. No, I haven't. There's lots to read, you know.

  HARRY. I told you to put it down.

  BILL looks at him, throws the paper at him coolly and rises.

  HARRY picks it up and reads.

  BILL. Oh, you just wanted it yourself, did you?

  HARRY. Want it? I don't want it.

  HARRY crumples the paper deliberately and drops it.

  I don't want it. Do you want it?

  BILL. You're being a little erratic this morning, aren't you?

  HARRY. Am I?

  BILL. I would say you were.

  HARRY. Well, you know what it is, don't you?

  BILL. No.

  HARRY. It's the church bells. You know how church bells always set me off. You know how they affect me.

  BILL. I never hear them.

  HARRY. You're not the sort of person who would, are you?

  BILL. I'm finding all this faintly idiotic.

  BILL bends to pick up the paper.

  HARRY. Don't touch that paper.

  BILL. Why not?

  HARRY. Don't touch it.

  BILL stares at him and
then slowly picks it up.

  Silence.

  He tosses it to HARRY.

  BILL. You have it. I don't want it.

  BILL goes out and up the stairs. HARRY opens the paper and reads it.

  In the flat, STELLA comes in with a tray of coffee and biscuits. She places the tray on the coffee-table and passes a cup to JAMES. She sips.

  STELLA. Would you like a biscuit?

  JAMES. No, thank you.

  Pause.

  STELLA. I'm going to have one.

  JAMES. You'll get fat.

  STELLA. From biscuits?

  JAMES. You don't want to get fat, do you?

  STELLA. Why not?

  JAMES. Perhaps you do.

  STELLA. It's not one of my aims.

  JAMES. What is your aim?

  Pause.

  I'd like an olive.

  STELLA. Olive? We haven't got any.

  JAMES. How do you know?

  STELLA. I know.

  JAMES. Have you looked?

  STELLA. I don't need to look, do I? I know what I've got.

  JAMES. You know what you've got?

  Pause.

  Why haven't we got any olives?

  STELLA. I didn't know you liked them.

  JAMES. That must be the reason why we've never had them in the house. You've simply never been interested enough in olives to ask whether I liked them or not.

  The telephone rings in the house. HARRY puts the paper down and goes to it. BILL comes down the stairs. They stop, facing each other, momentarily. HARRY lifts the receiver. BILL walks into the room, picks up the paper and sits.

  HARRY. Hullo. What? No. Wrong number. (Replaces receiver.) Wrong number. Who do you think it was?

  BILL. I didn't think.

  HARRY. Oh, by the way, a chap called for you yesterday.

  BILL. Oh yes?

  HARRY. Just after you'd gone out.

  BILL. Oh yes?

  HARRY. Ah well, time for the joint. Roast or chips?

  BILL. I don't want any potatoes, thank you.

  HARRY. No potatoes? What an extraordinary thing. Yes, this chap, he was asking for you, he wanted you.

  BILL. What for?

  HARRY. He wanted to know if you ever cleaned your shoes with furniture polish.

  BILL. Really? How odd.

  HARRY. Not odd. Some kind of national survey.

  BILL. What did he look like?

  HARRY. Oh . . . lemon hair, nigger brown teeth, wooden leg, bottlegreen eyes and a toupee. Know him?

  BILL. Never met him.

  HARRY. You'd know him if you saw him.

  BILL. I doubt it.

  HARRY. What, a man who looked like that?

  BILL. Plenty of men look like that.

  HARRY. That's true. That's very true. The only thing is that this particular man was here last night.

  BILL. Was he? I didn't see him.

  HARRY. Oh yes, he was here, but I've got a funny feeling he wore a mask. It was the same man, but he wore a mask, that's all there is to it. He didn't dance here last night, did he, or do any gymnastics?

  BILL. No one danced here last night.

  HARRY. Aah. Well, that's why you didn't notice his wooden leg. I couldn't help seeing it myself when he came to the front door because he stood on the top step stark naked. Didn't seem very cold, though. He had a waterbottle under his arm instead of a hat.

  BILL. Those church bells have certainly left their mark on you.

  HARRY. They haven't helped, but the fact of the matter is, old chap, that I don't like strangers coming into my house without an invitation. (Pause.) Who is this man and what does he want?

  Pause. BILL rises.

  BILL. Will you excuse me? I really think it's about time I was dressed, don't you?

  BILL goes up the stairs.

  HARRY, after a moment, turns and follows. He slowly ascends the stairs.

  Fade to blackout on house.

  In the flat JAMES is still reading the paper. STELLA is sitting silently.

  Silence.

  STELLA. What do you think about going for a run today . . . in the country?

  Pause, JAMES puts the paper down.

  JAMES. I've come to a decision.

  STELLA. What?

  JAMES. I'm going to go and see him.

  STELLA. See him? Who? (Pause.) What for?

  JAMES. Oh . . . have a chat with him.

  STELLA. What's the point of doing that?

  JAMES. I feel I'd like to.

  STELLA. I just don't see . . . what there is to be gained. What's the point of it?

  Pause.

  What are you going to do, hit him?

  JAMES. No, no. I'd just like to hear what he's got to say.

  STELLA. Why?

  JAMES. I want to know what his attitude is.

  Pause.

  STELLA. He doesn't matter.

  JAMES. What do you mean?

  STELLA. He's not important.

  JAMES. Do you mean anyone would have done? You mean it just happened to be him, but it might as well have been anyone?

  STELLA. No.

  JAMES. What then?

  STELLA. Of course it couldn't have been anyone. It was him. It was just . . . something . . .

  JAMES. That's what I mean. It was him. That's why I think he's worth having a look at. I want to see what he's like. It'll be instructive, educational.

  Pause.

  STELLA. Please don't go and see him. You don't know where he lives, anyway.

  JAMES. You don't think I should see him?

  STELLA. It won't . . . make you feel any better.

  JAMES. I want to see if he's changed.

  STELLA. What do you mean?

  JAMES. I want to see if he's changed from when I last saw him. He may have gone down the drain since I last saw him. I must say he looked in good shape, though.

  STELLA. You've never seen him.

  Pause.

  You don't know him.

  Pause.

  You don't know where he lives.

  Pause.

  When did you see him?

  JAMES. We had dinner together last night.

  STELLA. What?

  JAMES. Splendid host.

  STELLA. I don't believe it.

  JAMES. Ever been to his place?

  Pause.

  Rather nice. Ever been there?

  STELLA. I met him in Leeds, that's all.

  JAMES. Oh, is that all. Well, we'll have to go round there one night. The grub's good, I can't deny it. I found him quite charming.

  Pause.

  He remembered the occasion well. He was perfectly frank. You know, a man's man. Straight from the shoulder. He entirely confirmed your story.

  STELLA. Did he?

  JAMES. Mmm. Only thing . . . he rather implied that you led him on. Typical masculine thing to say, of course.

  STELLA. That's a lie.

  JAMES. You know what men are. I reminded him that you'd resisted, and you'd hated the whole thing, but that you'd been – how can we say – somehow hypnotized by him, it happens sometimes. He agreed it can happen sometimes. He told me he'd been hypnotized once by a cat. Wouldn't go into any more details, though. Still, I must admit we rather hit it off. We've got the same interests. He was most amusing over the brandy.

  STELLA. I'm not interested.

  JAMES. In fact, he was most amusing over the whole thing.

  STELLA. Was he?

  JAMES. But especially over the brandy. He's got the right attitude, you see. As a man, I can only admire it.

  STELLA. What is his attitude?

  JAMES. What's your attitude?

  STELLA. I don't know what you're . . . I just don't know what you're . . . I just . . . hoped you'd understand . . .

  She covers her face, crying.

  JAMES. Well, I do understand, but only after meeting him. Now I'm perfectly happy. I can see it both ways, three ways, all ways . . . every way. It's perfectly clear, there's nothing to it, everything's back to nor
mal. The only difference is that I've come across a man I can respect. It isn't often you can do that, that that happens, and really I suppose I've got you to thank.

  He bends forward and pats her arm.

  Thanks.

  Pause.

  He reminds me of a bloke I went to school with. Hawkins. Honestly, he reminded me of Hawkins. Hawkins was an opera fan, too. So's what's-his-name. I'm a bit of an opera fan myself. Always kept it a dead secret. I might go along with your bloke to the opera one night. He says he can always get free seats. He knows quite a few of that crowd. Maybe I can track old Hawkins down and take him along, too. He's a very cultivated bloke, your bloke, quite a considerable intelligence at work there, I thought. He's got a collection of Chinese pots stuck on a wall, must have cost at least fifteen hundred a piece. Well, you can't help noticing that sort of thing. I mean, you couldn't say he wasn't a man of taste. He's brimming over with it. Well, I suppose he must have struck you the same way. No, really, I think I should thank you, rather than anything else. After two years of marriage it looks as though, by accident, you've opened up a whole new world for me.

  Fade to blackout.

  Fade up house. Night.

  BILL comes in from the kitchen with a tray of olives, cheese, crisps, and a transistor radio, playing Vivaldi, very quietly. He puts the tray on the table, arranges the cushions and eats a crisp. JAMES appears at the front door and rings the bell. BILL goes to the door, opens it, and JAMES comes in. In the hall he helps JAMES off with his coat.

  JAMES comes into the room, BILL follows. JAMES notices the tray with the olives, and smiles. BILL smiles. JAMES goes up to the Chinese vases and examines them. BILL pours drinks. In the flat the telephone rings.

  Fade up on flat. Night.

  Fade up half light on telephone box.

  A figure can be dimly seen in the telephone box. STELLA enters from the bedroom, holding the kitten. She goes to the telephone, BILL gives JAMES a glass. They drink.

  STELLA. Hullo.

  HARRY. Is that you, James?

  STELLA. What? No, it isn't. Who's this?

  HARRY. Where's James?

  STELLA. He's out.

  HARRY. Out? Oh, well, all right. I'll be straight round.

  STELLA. What are you talking about? Who are you?

  HARRY. Don't go out.

  The telephone cuts off. STELLA replaces the receiver and sits upright with the kitten on the chair.

  Fade to half light on flat.

  Fade telephone box.

  JAMES. You know something? You remind me of a chap I knew once. Hawkins. Yes. He was quite a tall lad.