You did love me?
I'll always love you. I hate hurting you.
Then why are you?
'Cause I'm selfish.
- And I think I'll be happier with her. - You won't.
You'll miss me.
No one will ever love you as much as I do.
Why isn't love enough?
I'm the one who leaves. I'm supposed to leave you.
Make some tea, buster.
Why are you dressed?
Because I think you might be about to leave me...
and I didn't want to be wearing a dressing gown.
I slept with someone in New York.
A whore.
I'm sorry.
Why did you tell me?
- I couldn't lie to you. - Why not?
Because I love you.
It's fine.
Really? Why?
Something's wrong.
Tell me.
Are you leaving me?
Because of this?
Why?
Dan.
Cupid?
He's our joke.
I love him.
You're seeing him now?
Since when?
Since my opening last year.
I'm disgusting.
You're phenomenal.
You're so clever.
Why did you marry me?
I stopped seeing him. I wanted us to work.
- Why did you tell me you wanted children? - Because I did.
- And now you want children with him? - Yes.
I don't know.
But we're happy...
aren't we?
- You're gonna go live with him? - You stay here if you want.
I don't give a fuck about the spoils.
You did this to me the day we met. You let me hang myself for your amusement.
Why didn't you just tell me when I walked in the door?
- I was scared. - You're a coward, you spoilt bitch.
Are you dressed because you thought I might hit you?
What do you think I am?
- I've been hit before. - Not by me.
Is he a good fuck?
Don't do this.
Just answer the question.
Is he good?
Yes.
Better than me?
- Different. - Better?
- Gentler. - What does that mean?
- You know what it means. - Tell me.
- No. - I treat you like a whore?
- Sometimes. - Why would that be?
- I'm sorry, you're... - Don't say it.
Don't you fucking say:
"You're too good for me." I am, but don't say it.
You're making the mistake of your life.
You're leaving me because you believe that you don't deserve happiness...
but you do, Anna.
Did you have a bath because you had sex with him?
So you wouldn't smell of him?
So you'd feel less guilty?
How do you feel?
Guilty.
Did you ever love me?
Yes.
Did you do it here?
No.
Why not?
Do you wish we did?
Just tell me the truth.
Yes, we did it here.
Where?
There.
On this?
We had our first fuck on this.
Did you think of me?
When?
When did you do it here?
- Answer the question! - This evening.
Did you come?
- Why are you doing this? - 'Cause I want to know.
- Yes, I came. - How many times?
- Twice. - How?
- First he went down on me, then we fucked. - Who was where?
I was on top, then he fucked me from behind.
- That's when you came the second time? - God.
- Why is the sex so important? - Because I'm a fucking caveman!
Did you touch yourself while he fucked you?
- You wank for him? - Sometimes.
- And he does? - We do everything...
- that people who have sex do. - You enjoy sucking him off?
- You like his cock? - I love it.
- Like him coming in your face? - Yes!
- What does it taste like? - Like you, but sweeter.
That's the spirit. Thank you. Thank you for your honesty.
Now fuck off and die...
you fucked-up slag.
I love you.
Thank you.
- What's this room called? - The Paradise Suite.
- How many Paradise Suites are there? - Eight.
Do I have to pay you to talk to me?
No. But if you want to tip me, you're welcome.
Thank you.
I used to come here a million years ago. It was a punk club.
The stage was...
Everything is a version of something else.
Twenty years ago.
How old were you?
- Four. - Christ.
- When I was in flares, you were in nappies. - My nappies were flared.
- You have the face of an angel. - Thank you.
What does your cunt taste like?
Heaven.
How long have you been doing this?
- Three months. - Straight after he left you?
No one left me.
- Nice wig. - Thank you.
Does all this turn you on?
- Sometimes. - Liar.
You're telling me that 'cause you think it's what I want to hear.
You think I'm turned on by it turning you on.
The thought of me creaming myself when I strip for strangers doesn't turn you on?
Put like that, yes.
- Are you flirting with me? - Maybe.
- Are you allowed to flirt with me? - Sure.
- Really? - No, I'm not. I'm breaking all the rules.
- You're mocking me. - Yes, I'm allowed to flirt.
To prize my money from me.
To prize your money from you, I may do or say as I please.
- Except touch. - We're not allowed to touch.
Open your legs.
Wider.
Show me.
So what would happen if I touched you now?
- I'd call security. - What would they do?
They would ask you to leave and not to come back.
- And if I refused to leave? - They would remove you.
Those are security cameras in the ceiling.
I think it's best I don't attempt to touch you.
I'd like to touch you. Later.
- I'm not a whore. - I wouldn't pay.
Why the fuck did he leave you?
- What's your job? - A question. You asked me a question.
- So? - It's a chink in your armor.
- I'm not wearing armor. - Yes, you are.
- Why are you calling yourself Jane? - Because it's my name.
We both know it isn't.
You're all protecting your identities.
There's a girl out there who calls herself Venus. What's her real name?
- Pluto. - You're cheeky.
- Would you like me to stop being cheeky? - No.
What's your name?
Daniel.
Daniel the dermatologist.
- I never told you my job. - I guessed.
You're strong.
There's another one out there. Judging by the scars, a patient of Dr. Tit.
Calls herself Cupid. Who's gonna tell her he was a bloke?
- He wasn't a bloke. He was a little boy. - I want you to tell me your name.
Please.
Thank you. My name is Jane.
Your real name.
Thank you.
- My real name is Jane. - Careful.
Thank you. Still Jane.
I've got about another £500 here.
Why don't I just give you all this money and you tell me what your real name is...
Alice?
I promise.
Thank you.
My real name...
is plain Jane Jones.
I may be rich, but I'm not stupid.
What a shame, Doc. I love them rich and stupid.
Don't you fuck around with me.
- I apologize. - Accepted.
All the girls in this hellhole, the pneumatic robots...
the coked-up baby dolls, and you're no different.
You all use stage names to con yourselves you're someone else...
so you don't feel ashamed showing your cunts and assholes to strangers.
I'm trying to have a conversation.
- You're out of cash. - I paid for this room.
This is extra.
- We met last year. - Wrong girl.
Talk to me!
- I am. - Talk to me in real life.
I didn't know you'd be here. I know who you are.
I love you.
I love everything about you that hurts.
She won't even see me.
- You feel the same. I know it. - You can't cry in here.
- Hold me. Let me hold you. - We're not allowed to touch.
Come home with me. It's safe. Let me look after you.
- I don't need looking after. - Everyone needs looking after.
I'm not your revenge fuck.
- I'll pay you. - I don't need your money.
- You have my money. - Thank you.
- "Thank you." Is that some kind of rule? - Just being polite.
Do you get a lot of grown men crying their guts out here?
Occupational hazard.
Have you ever desired a customer?
Yes.
Then put me out of my misery. Do you desire me?
Because I'm being pretty honest about my feelings for you.
- Your feelings? - Whatever.
No, I don't desire you.
Thank you.
Thank you sincerely for your honesty.
You think you haven't give us anything of yourselves?
Do you think because you don't love us or desire us...
or even like us, you think you've won?
It's not a war.
If I asked you to strip right now, would you?
- Of course. Do you want me to? - No.
Alice, tell me something true.
Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off...
but it's better if you do.
You're cold.
You're all cold at heart.
What do you have to do to get a bit of intimacy around here?
Maybe next time I'll have worked on my intimacy.
No, I'll tell you what's gonna work. You're gonna take your gear off right now.
You're gonna turn around very slowly, and you're gonna bend over...
and you're gonna touch the fucking floor for my viewing pleasure.
Is that what you want?
What else could I want?
I'm sorry.
- What happened? - Traffic.
- Do you want to go stand in the back? - No, let's have a drink.
You look flushed.
You have no need to run.
- Vodka tonic? - Yes.
- Vodka tonic and a Guinness, please. - Sure.
How was it?
Fine.
You had lunch?
Then what?
- And then we left. - And?
There's no "and."
You haven't seen him in four months. There must be an "and."
- How is he? - Terrible.
- Keep the change. - Thank you, sir.
How is his dermatology?
- He's in private practice now. - Is he?
Was he weeping all over the place?
- Some of the time. - Poor bastard.
Was he difficult?
Are you angry that I saw him?
No. It's just...
I haven't seen Alice.
You can't see Alice. You don't know where she is.
I haven't tried to find her.
You know why I saw him.
He's been begging me for months. I saw him so he'd sign.
- So has he signed? - Yes.
Congratulations.
You're a divorcée.
Double divorcée.
Sorry.
How do you feel?
Tired.
I love you.
And I need a piss.
I hate this place.
At least it's central.
I hate central. Central London's a theme park.
I hate retro. I hate the future. Where does that leave me?
Come back.
- You promised you wouldn't. - Come back.
- How's work? - Jesus. Work's shit, okay?
Do they have waiters here? I love you. Please come back.
I'm not coming back.
Sign.
No pen.
Pen.
Give me back my hand.
Sign.
I'll sign on one condition.
We skip this. We go to my sleek new surgery...
and we christen the patients' bed with our final fuck.
I know you don't want to...
and I know you think I'm sick for asking, but that's what I'm asking.
For old times' sake.
Because I'm obsessed with you.
Because I can't get over you unless...
Because I think, on some small level...
you owe me something for deceiving me so exquisitely.
For all these reasons, I am begging you to give me your body.
You'd be my whore.
And in return, I will pay you with your liberty.
You do this, I swear I will not contact you again.
I'm going to the bar.
I assume you still drink vodka tonic?
You slept with him, didn't you?
- What do you expect me to do? - Understand.
Why didn't you lie to me?
Because we said we'd always tell each other the truth.
What's so great about the truth?
Try lying for a change. It's the currency of the world.
I did what he wanted, and now he will leave us alone.
I love you.
- I didn't give him anything. - Your body?
If Alice came to you, desperate...
with all that love still between you...
and she said she needed you to want her...
so she could get over you, you'd do it.
I wouldn't like it either, but I'd forgive you.
- It's kindness. - No, cowardice.
You haven't got the guts to let him hate you.
I'm doing this because I feel guilty, and because I pity you.
- You know that, don't you? - Yes.
- Feel good about yourself? - No.
It's gone.
- We're not innocent anymore. - Don't stop loving me.
I can see it draining out of you. It's me, remember?
It was a stupid thing to do, and it meant nothing.
If you love me enough, you'll forgive me.
- Are you testing me? - No.
- I do understand. - No. He understands.
All I can see is him all over you.
He's clever, your ex-husband.
I almost admire him.
You going to tell him?
I don't know.
Better to be truthful about this kind of thing.
Sign.
I forgive you.
Sign.
I think you enjoyed it.
He wheedles you into bed. The old jokes...
the strange familiarity. I think you had a whale of a time.
And the truth is I'll never know unless I ask him.
Why don't you?
Yes?
You can go in now.
- I want Anna back. - She's made her choice.
I owe you an apology. I fell in love with her. My intention was not to make you suffer.
So where's the apology? You cunt.
I apologize. If you love her, you'll let her go...
so she can be happy.
- She doesn't want to be happy. - Everybody wants to be happy.
Depressives don't. They want to be unhappy to confirm they're depressed.
If they were happy, they couldn't be depressed.
They'd have to go out into the world and live, which can be depressing.
- Anna's not a depressive. - Isn't she?
- I love her. - Boo-hoo. So do I.
She's gone back to you because she can't bear your suffering.
You don't know who she is.
- You love her like a dog loves its owner. - And the owner loves the dog for so doing.
You'll hurt her. You'll never forgive her.
Of course I forgive her. I have forgiven her.
Without forgiveness we're savages. You're drowning.
- You only met her because of me. - Yeah. Thanks.
It's a joke. Your marriage is a joke.
Here's a good one. She never sent the divorce papers to her lawyer.
Now, to a towering romantic hero like you, I don't doubt I am somewhat common.
But I am, nevertheless, what she has chosen...
and we must respect what the woman wants.
If you go near her again, I swear...
I will kill you.
Okay. I have patients to see.
When she came here, do you think she enjoyed it?
I didn't do it to give her a nice time.
I fucked her to fuck you up.
A good fight is never clean. And of course she enjoyed it.
As you know, she loves a guilty fuck.
- You're an animal. - Yeah? What are you?
You think love is simple. You think the heart is like a diagram.
Have you ever seen a human heart? It looks like a fist wrapped in blood!
Go fuck yourself. You writer!
You liar!
You go check a few facts while I get my hands dirty.
She hates your hands. She hates your simplicity.
I spent the whole of last week talking about you.
I know all your ways. Anna says you fucked her with your eyes closed.
She tells me you wake in the night crying for your mother, you mommy's boy.
I could go on.
Shall we stop this?
It's over. Accept it.
You don't know the first thing about love...
because you don't understand compromise.
- Don't cry on me. - I'm sorry.
I don't know what to do.
You want my advice? You go back to Alice.
She'd never have me.
- She's vanished. - No, she hasn't.
I found her, by accident.
She's working in a club.
Yes, I saw her naked.
No, I did not fuck her.
You spoke to her?
Yes, I know. One minute.
How is she?
She loves you...
beyond comprehension.
Your prescription.
It's where she works.
Go to her.
Thank you.
You still pissing about on the Net?
Not recently.
- I wanted to kill you. - I thought you wanted to fuck me.
Don't get lippy.
I liked your book, by the way.
Thanks. You stand alone.
With Anna.
- You still writing obituaries? Busy? - I was made editor.
- Yeah? How come? - Previous editor died.
Alcohol poisoning. I sat with him for a week in the hospital.
I really do have patients to see.
- Thank you. - For what?
- Being kind. - I am kind.
Your invoice is in the post.
I lied to you.
I did fuck Alice.
Sorry for telling you. I'm just not big enough to forgive you.
Buster.
Show me the sneer.
Beautiful.
You'll wake up the hotel.
Fuck me.
Again? We have to get up at 6:00.
How can one man be so endlessly disappointing?
That's my charm.
So where are we going?
- My treat. - Where are we going?
My holiday surprise. My rules.
Where are we going?
New York.
You angel.
- You did remember to pack my passport? - Of course. It's with my passport.
And where's that?
In a place where you can't look. No one sees my passport picture.
When we get on the plane, we'll have been together four years.
What about the gap?
You mean trial separation? Didn't work out.
Happy anniversary.
I'm going to take my eyes out.
- What was in my sandwiches? - Tuna.
- How many stitches did I get? - Two.
But you should have had three.
- What was your euphemism? - Disarming.
Too easy, buster. Next?
That park. Who'd I go there with?
Your father.
Were the chairs in the hospital gray or blue?
- No idea. - Trick question. They were green.
You are a trick question.
How come we never took a vacation?
We went to the country.
Doesn't count. You were off making sneaky phone calls...
to that witch we do not mention.
Come to bed.
I need a smoke.
- How'd you manage to give up? - Deep inner strength.
Why me?
You could have chosen anyone. Why me?
Because you cut off your crusts.
And this.
- When are you going to stop stripping? - Soon.
- You're addicted to it. - No, I'm not.
It paid for this.
Tell me what happened.
- Nothing happened. - But he came to the club.
Lots of men come to the club. You came to the club.
- The look on your face. - The look on your face.
What a face. What a wig.
I saw this face...
this vision...
when you stepped into the road. It was the moment of my life.
- This is the moment of your life. - You were perfect.
I still am.
On the way to the hospital...
I kissed your forehead.
You brute.
The cabbie saw me kissing you. He said, "Is she yours?"
I said, "Yes, she's mine."
She's mine.
So he came to the club, watched you strip, you had a little chat, and that was it?
Yes.
You're not trusting me.
I'm in love with you. You're safe.
You had every right. I just want to know.
- Why? - Because I want to know everything.
Because I'm a lunatic.
Tell me.
Nothing happened.
- You were living with someone else. - What are you justifying?
I'm not justifying anything. Just saying.
- What are you saying? - I'm not saying anything.
I just want the truth.
- Where are you going? - Cigarettes.
Everywhere's closed.
I'll go to the terminal.
When I get back...
please tell me the truth.
- Why? - Because I'm addicted to it.
Because without it we're animals.
Trust me.
I don't love you anymore.
Since when?
Now.
Just now.
I don't want to lie...
and I can't tell the truth...
so it's over.
It doesn't matter.
- I love you. None of it matters. - Too late.
I don't love you anymore.
Goodbye.
Here's the truth...
so now you can hate me.
Larry fucked me all night.
I enjoyed it.
I came.
I prefer you.
Now go.
I knew that.
He told me.
- You knew? - I needed to hear it from you.
- Why? - Because he might have been lying.
I had to hear it from you.
I would never have told you, because I know you'd never forgive me.
I would. I have.
- Why did he tell you? - Because he's a bastard.
- How could he? - Because he wanted this to happen.
- But why test me? - Because I'm an idiot.
Yes.
I would have loved you...
forever.
- Now please go. - Don't do this. Talk to me.
I am talking. Fuck off.
No, I'm sorry. You misunderstand. I didn't mean to...
Yes, you did.
- I love you. - Where?
- What? - Show me.
Where is this love?
I can't see it. I can't touch it. I can't feel it.
I can hear it. I can hear some words...
but I can't do anything with your easy words.
Whatever you say, it's too late.
- Please don't do this. - It's done.
Now please go, or I'll call security.
You're not in a strip club. There is no security.
- Why did you fuck him? - I wanted to.
- Why? - I desired him.
- Why? - You weren't there.
- Why him? - He asked me nicely.
- You're a liar. - So?
- Who are you? - I'm no one.
Go on, hit me. That's what you want. Hit me, fucker.
- Welcome back, Miss Jones. - Thank you.