by Mike Leigh
BEVERLY: All right, Laurence.
[Pause. He lets go. Pause.]
LAURENCE: Sorry about that.
ANGELA: Oh, that’s all right. We’re all getting a little bit merry, aren’t we? And it’s nice for us to have a chance to enjoy ourselves, ’cos since the move, we’ve hardly been out.
[Susan gets up.]
BEVERLY: Where are you going, Sue?!
SUSAN: Er … I’m just going to the toilet.
BEVERLY: You don’t feel sick again, do you?
SUSAN: No, I’m fine, thank you.
ANGELA: D’you want me to come with you?
SUSAN [going]: No, thank you.
[Exit Susan.]
BEVERLY: Give us your glass, Ang. I’ll give you a little top-up.
ANGELA: You see, Sue’s been vomiting up her gin, and while you were away, I had to take her to the lavatory.
BEVERLY [giving drink]: Ang.
ANGELA: Thanks.
BEVERLY: Cheers, everyone. Cheers!
ANGELA: Cheers!
LAURENCE: Cheers!
TONY [miming his glass]: Cheers!
BEVERLY: Oh, I’m sorry, Tone, I forgot your light ale, didn’t I? I do apologize.
LAURENCE: I’ll get it.
BEVERLY: Thank you, Laurence! [Beverly sits. Pause.] Ang: shall we have a little dance?
ANGELA: Yeah. Be nice.
BEVERLY: Tone: d’you fancy a little dance?
TONY: Yeah, I don’t mind.
BEVERLY: Yeah?
LAURENCE: There’s no room to dance in here, Beverly.
BEVERLY: Laurence, if I’d wanted somebody to put a damper on the idea, I would have asked you first, okay? Come on, Ang: give us a hand moving the couch. Come on.
[Laurence gives Tony his drink.]
TONY: Ta.
[Beverly and Angela prepare to move the couch.]
BEVERLY: Got it?
[The men take over.]
ANGELA: I’ll take this end.
LAURENCE: No, you just sit down.
BEVERLY: Cheers, Tone.
TONY: You got it, Laurence?
LAURENCE: Yes.
[Tony and Laurence pick it up. Laurence drops his end.]
BEVERLY: Oh, for Christ’s sake, Laurence!
LAURENCE: Don’t interfere, Beverly. You ready?
TONY: Where d’you want to put it?
LAURENCE [to Beverly]: Well, where d’you want it?
BEVERLY: Oh, for God’s sake: just put it back there!
LAURENCE: Just back.
[Tony and Laurence move the couch.]
BEVERLY: Ang, I’ve got this fantastic record I’m gonna play for us, right? Just hang on a sec. Now, this record, Ang, it turns my husband on, and when he hears it, he cannot resist my charms.
[Beverly proceeds to put on the record (Sam-The Man-Taylor & His Orchestra, or any similar ‘smoochy’ music). During this:]
ANGELA: They’re still enjoying themselves down there, aren’t they?
TONY: Yes.
ANGELA: What were they getting up to?
TONY: Nothing much.
BEVERLY: Ready, Ang?
ANGELA: Mmm.
[The music starts.]
BEVERLY: Fantastic, isn’t it? Oh, I’m sorry, Laurence, is it too loud for you, my darling? I do apologize. I’ll turn it down. Because we don’t want to upset him, do we, Ang? (She turns down the volume.) Is that better? Fancy a little dance, Tone?
ANGELA: Dance with Beverly.
TONY: Perhaps Laurence’d like to dance?
BEVERLY: No, I don’t think he would, actually. Come on, Tone: have a little dance, go on. [Tony gets up and dances with Beverly. Angela and Laurence remain seated. After a short while, enter Susan.] You all right, Sue?
SUSAN: Yes. Fine, thank you.
[Susan sits. Pause. Beverly and Tony continue to dance.]
BEVERLY: You don’t mind me mauling your husband, do you, Ang?
ANGELA: No, you go ahead.
[Pause.]
TONY: Go on – dance with Laurence.
ANGELA: No, I can’t.
TONY: ’Course you can: get up and dance!
BEVERLY: Don’t worry, Ang – you’ll be quite safe with Laurence. He won’t rape you.
[Angela gets up.]
ANGELA: Would you like to dance?
LAURENCE [getting up]: Surely, if you’d like to.
[Laurence places his glass on the coffee-table, and joins Angela; just as he reaches her, she starts ‘bopping’, which is inappropriate, as the music is ‘smoochy’, and Beverly and Tony are ‘smooching’.
Laurence musters the vague gesture of a ‘bop’.]
ANGELA [whilst dancing]: I’m not very good at these slow dances.
LAURENCE: No.
ANGELA: I’m better at this sort. [Demonstrates a quick ‘bop’.] Would you like to dance with us?
SUSAN: Oh. No, thank you.
ANGELA: Come on – we can all three dance together!
SUSAN: No, really, I’m fine, thank you.
[The dancing continues until the track ends.]
LAURENCE [shaking Angela’s hand]: Thank you.
ANGELA: Laurence was shaking my hand!
BEVERLY: Was he? Christ, he’ll be shaking mine next. Now who’d like a drink? Ang?
ANGELA: Oh – please!
BEVERLY: Never say no! Tone, would you like a drink?
TONY: No, thanks, I’m all right.
BEVERLY: How about you, Sue?
SUSAN: No, thank you.
BEVERLY: Are you sure?
SUSAN: Yes.
BEVERLY: Yeah!
ANGELA: He’s a good dancer, isn’t he?
BEVERLY: He’s fantastic.
ANGELA: I never knew you could dance so well. We don’t usually dance like that, do we?
TONY: No.
BEVERLY [giving drink]: Ang!
ANGELA: Thanks.
BEVERLY: Cheers, everyone, cheers!
SUSAN [getting soda-water]: Cheers.
BEVERLY: Darling, why don’t you dance with Sue?
LAURENCE: I really don’t think Sue wants to dance, thanks very much. Darling.
BEVERLY: Then why don’t you ask her, Laurence?
[Pause. Then Laurence gets up and crosses to Sue.]
LAURENCE: Sue, would you like to dance?
SUSAN: Er, no, thank you.
LAURENCE: There you are – Sue doesn’t want to dance!
BEVERLY: Of course she wants to dance! Go on, Sue, have a little dance with Laurence. Enjoy yourself, go on – have a little dance.
LAURENCE: Would you like to, Sue?
SUSAN: All right.
LAURENCE: I’ll take your glass for you.
[Laurence and Susan embrace formally. Beverly rejoins Tony.]
BEVERLY: Come on, Tone.
[Beverly and Tony go into a more intimate embrace than previously.]
BEVERLY: Ang – d’you wanna dance with Tone?
ANGELA: No: you’re all right.
[Pause: the dancing continues.]
LAURENCE: Are you going on holiday this year, Sue?
SUSAN: I hope so.
LAURENCE: Expensive business, holidays.
SUSAN: Yes.
LAURENCE: D’you know Paris?
SUSAN: A little.
LAURENCE: Oh. You’ve been there?
SUSAN: Yes. A long time ago. Have you?
LAURENCE: No. We’re hoping to get there.
[Pause.]
SUSAN: I like Paris.
LAURENCE: Oh, yes … Montmartre by night, the Champs Elysées, boulevard cafés …
[When the track ends, they stop dancing, Laurence shakes Susan’s hand briskly and formally.]
Thank you.
BEVERLY [to Tony]: Thanks very much.
TONY: Ta.
[They all drift to seats except Tony. The empty seat is now between Susan and Beverly on the sofa.]
BEVERLY: D’you wanna sit down, Tone?
TONY: Ta.
BEVERLY: Ang, do u
s a favour, throw us me fags. Would you, please? [Angela throws the cigarettes. Tony picks them up and gives them to Beverly.] Cheers, Tone. [Tony leans back. The bar-flap now protrudes over the back of the sofa.]
SUSAN: Mind your head.
ANGELA: It’s too big.
TONY: What?
ANGELA: It’s too big.
TONY: What is?
ANGELA: Your head.
TONY: Give it a rest!
[Pause.]
TONY: Feeling better now, are you?
SUSAN: Oh – much. Thank you.
TONY: Good.
[Pause.]
BEVERLY: Ang, d’you want a cigarette?
ANGELA: Oh, I would. Can I have a cigarette?
TONY: D’you want one?
ANGELA: I’d love one.
TONY: Why don’t you have one, then?
[Beverly throws a cigarette across to Angela. She lights it.]
BEVERLY: Ang, do us a favour – give us a light, would you, please?
[Angela goes over to light Beverly’s cigarette. She returns.]
ANGELA: You see, once you’ve had one cigarette, you want to keep on smoking, don’t you?
BEVERLY: This is it, yeah.
SUSAN: What sort of work d’you do?
TONY: I’m in computers.
ANGELA: He’s an operator.
BEVERLY: Still play football, Tone?
TONY: It’s not the firm’s team, and I’ve only played twice!
ANGELA: He looks so funny in his shorts!
BEVERLY: Why d’you give it up?
TONY: Things didn’t work out.
ANGELA: You’ve got footballer’s legs, though, haven’t you?
BEVERLY: Has he? Have you? Let’s have a little look. Oh, yeah, so he has. I like footballer’s legs, actually – they’re nice and muscly, aren’t they? Can’t stand blokes with skinny legs, Ang, can you? Puts you off d’you know what I mean?
LAURENCE: Talking of Paris, Sue, do you like Art?
SUSAN: Er – yes.
LAURENCE: So do I. Beverly doesn’t. Of course, Paris is the centre of the Art World. D’you like Van Gogh?
SUSAN: Yes.
LAURENCE [crossing the room]: This is a Van Gogh.
SUSAN: Yes.
LAURENCE: They called him a Post-Impressionist, but to my mind he was more of a symbolist. D’you like the Impressionists?
SUSAN: Yes.
LAURENCE: Oh, you do? That’s good. Fine. Fine.
[He crosses back to his seat. Sits.]
BEVERLY: You all right, Tone?
TONY: Yeah!
BEVERLY: Great.
LAURENCE: Of course, you know, Van Gogh was a very unstable man. Not only did he cut his ear off and leave it in a brothel, he also ate paint, and he shot himself.
BEVERLY: Thank you, Laurence! We don’t want all the gory details.
LAURENCE: I’m talking to Sue, and Sue is interested in these things.
[He rushes across the room, and takes the Van Gogh off the wall.]
LAURENCE: This is a picture of his chair in the corner of his room at Arles. It wasn’t actually yellow, no, no, no: he painted it yellow because yellow symbolized so much for him.
BEVERLY [turning record off]: Shall we liven things up a bit?
BEVERLY: Yeah?
LAURENCE: Do you like Art?
ANGELA: Yes!
LAURENCE: Good. This is a Lowry! Now, did you know, his father was an Estate Agent?
ANGELA: Oh.
BEVERLY: For Christ’s sake, Laurence, give it a rest!
LAURENCE: Give what a rest?
BEVERLY: Nobody is interested.
LAURENCE: Oh, yes, they are!
BEVERLY: Oh, no, they’re not!
LAURENCE: D’you know something, Beverly? You’re ignorant?
BEVERLY: Oh, so I’m ignorant, now, am I?
LAURENCE: Now? You always have been!
BEVERLY: It’s not a question of ignorance, Laurence, it’s a question of taste!
LAURENCE: Taste! And what would you know about taste?
BEVERLY: The trouble with you, Laurence, is if somebody doesn’t happen to like what you like, then you say that they’ve got no taste!
LAURENCE: That’s rubbish!
BEVERLY: Oh, is it rubbish?
LAURENCE: Yes!
BEVERLY: Then what about that picture I’ve got upstairs in the bedroom, then?
LAURENCE: That is cheap, pornographic trash!
BEVERLY: Laurence, just because a picture happens to be erotic, it doesn’t mean it’s pornographic.
LAURENCE: Oh, shut up, Beverly!!
[Laurence rushes to the kitchen. During the following he is pouring and drinking a glass of water.]
BEVERLY [continuing immediately]: I’ve got this fabulous picture, right, it’s really beautiful; I brought it home, and he wouldn’t let me put it up in here, oh, no: I had to hang it in the bedroom!
LAURENCE [from kitchen]: If I had my way it would be in the dustbin!
BEVERLY: Yeah, well, you’re dead from the waist down anyway, let’s face it!
ANGELA: Can I see it?
BEVERLY: D’you wanna see it, Ang?
ANGELA: Oh, yes.
TONY [rising]: Actually, Angela’s got to be getting up early in the morning for work, so I think we ought to be going now.
SUSAN [rising]: Yes, I think I ought to be getting along …
TONY: You can see the picture another time.
ANGELA: We don’t have to go early just ’cos of me.
BEVERLY: You sure, Ang?
ANGELA: Yeah, I’ll be all right!
LAURENCE [having joined the others]: She’s got to get up in the morning!
BEVERLY: Oh, shut up, Laurence!
LAURENCE: Don’t tell me to shut up!
TONY: Angela: COAT!!
ANGELA: No, it’s all right.
SUSAN: I really think I ought to be going.
BEVERLY: Now don’t be silly, Sue, because we haven’t had a cup of coffee yet – now sit down.
[Exit Beverly.]
LAURENCE [following her]: Beverly!
ANGELA [to Susan]: We’re going soon, anyway.
[The following offstage:]
LAURENCE: Beverly, don’t bring that picture downstairs!
BEVERLY: Oh, sod off, Laurence!
LAURENCE: Beverly!
BEVERLY: Drop dead!!
TONY [to Angela]: You just can’t keep your big mouth shut, can you? GET UP!!
[Angela gets up. Enter Laurence quickly. Goes to the stereo, looks for and finds a record, which he puts on the turntable. Then he turns on the machine. During the pause before the music actually starts:]
LAURENCE: Sit down – please!
[He sits. Angela sits. Susan sits. Tony does not sit. Laurence jumps up, goes to look at the record, walks towards the door, stops, looks at Tony, sits, waits. The music starts: Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, the first movement.
Laurence now suffers a heart attack. He tries to suppress it for a time, as it approaches, whilst the others look on, confused. Then, a spasm, and he passes out. Angela, Susan and Tony go over to him during following.]
ANGELA: Laurence? Laurence!
SUSAN: What’s the matter?
TONY: What’s wrong with him, Ang?
ANGELA: Just a minute.
[Angela is examining Laurence: she loosens his tie.]
TONY: Ang, what’s wrong with him?
ANGELA: I don’t know yet!
[Angela examines Laurence’s eyes.]
Tony, can you help me get him on the floor? [Angela and Tony move Laurence, helped by Susan. Enter Beverly, displaying picture The Wings of Love by Stephen Pearson. Throughout the following, Angela monitors Laurence’s pulse.] Get me something for his head. And get his feet up higher. No, that’s too big.
BEVERLY: What’s going on? What’s the matter with him? Mind, Sue.
Laurence! What’s happened, Ang, has he passed out? Laurence!
SUSAN: Tony, can you lift his fe
et?
BEVERLY: Tony!
[Tony and Susan see to Laurence’s feet.]
Sue, go and get him a glass of water, quickly, please. Now, Laurence, come on, you’re all right, come on, Laurence, Laurence!
ANGELA: No, leave him.
TONY: Leave him.
BEVERLY: Actually, Angela, he happens to be my husband, all right?
ANGELA: Yeah, but we’ve got to let him breathe.
BEVERLY: Yeah, well, he is breathing, for Christ’s sake.
TONY: Ambulance?
ANGELA: Yes!
SUSAN: Beverly, leave him alone!
BEVERLY: All right, then, Angela, what is the matter with him?
ANGELA: I think he’s had a heart attack.
TONY: Where’s your phone?
BEVERLY: A heart attack, Ang?
TONY: Where’s your phone?
BEVERLY: Under the bar. Ang, are you sure?
ANGELA: He hasn’t got false teeth, has he?
BEVERLY: No, of course he hasn’t got false teeth! Ang, look his lips are going all blue, look.
ANGELA: Don’t worry.
BEVERLY: Ang, his hands are going freezing.
ANGELA [to Susan]: Can you get him a blanket or something to keep him warm?
[Exit Susan.]
BEVERLY: Laurence … Now, Laurence. Can he hear me, d’you think, Ang?
ANGELA: Yes.
BEVERLY: Yeah. Laurence, Laurence.
ANGELA: No, leave him, he’s got to lie still!
BEVERLY: Oh, Christ, Ang!
[Beverly gets up, goes to the bar, and pours herself a brandy.]
ANGELA: Have you got through yet?
TONY: I’m trying to get a bloody line.
[Susan has come back, with a duvet. She covers Laurence with it.]
BEVERLY: Ang, his face is going all blue, look!
TONY: Ambulance.
ANGELA: Tell them it’s urgent.
TONY: What? Someone turn that fucking record off! Er – 503-9041.
[Susan turns off the record.]
BEVERLY: Ang, Ang. Listen to that noise he’s making.
TONY: Hullo, er, could we have an ambulance, please? [Pause.] What’s the number of your house? What’s the number of your HOUSE?!
SUSAN: Er – thirteen!
BEVERLY: Thirteen, thirteen.
TONY: 13, Richmond Road.
[For the rest of the telephone conversation that follows, Tony and Beverly can overlap slightly.]
BEVERLY: Angela, I told him this would happen.
TONY: Er, he’s had a heart attack.
BEVERLY: I said to him, Laurence, you’re going to have a heart attack.
TONY: 503–9041.
