(RADIO BEEPING)
MAN ON RADIO: This is the BBC Home Centre.
Good morning, everyone.
Before the weather forecast, there are gale warnings
for the sea areas Malin and South Finisterre.
It is the official general weather forecast...
Mrs Elton. Mrs Elton.
-Yes, Mr Welch? -I think it's coming from up here.
What, from number three? Well, I'll just come up.
-What's the matter? -Escape of gas, darling.
Don't light a match or anything, will you?
-Well, it's not us, I know that. -No, it's in here.
Is there any answer? Mr Page! Mrs Page?
It's all right, I've got the pass key.
Ooh, ooh, it's here, all right.
They must have left something on. Wicked waste.
Be careful, Mrs Elton. Put something over your mouth.
It's not as bad as that. Expect it's coming from the kitchen.
Left his cooker on all night, I shouldn't be surprised.
Comes in late, a bit the worse for you know what.
Makes himself a cup of tea and turns on all the taps in sight.
Oh, my God! Mrs Elton!
Someone will blow this whole house up one of these days.
Mrs Elton, quick, get a doctor or someone.
MRS ELTON: Oh, heavens!
-Now where does this thing turn off? -Oh, Mrs Page! Mrs Page!
(STAMMERING) Here, she's not dead, is she?
I don't know. Look, it won't turn off. I can't turn it off.
Oh, here, here, let me, let me.
-It is off, it wasn't on. -Well, it must have been.
It's the meter then, it's switched itself off at the meter.
Help me get her to the sofa. You take her feet.
Oh, the poor thing.
Oh, why did she have to go and do it?
What's the point in doing a thing like this?
This will bring the police.
In 2 3 years, Mr Elton and me have never had a speck of trouble in these flats.
And now... Mrs Page, of all people.
-ANN: Philip, are you in there? -Yes, don't come in.
We'll be late for the office.
Well, you go on, tell them I'll get there as soon as I can.
-Is anything wrong? -Look, I said not to come in.
MRS ELTON: Oh, she's breathing.
-Where is the nearest doctor? -Er, Dr Brown.
No! No, he's on his holiday and... Oh, I know, Mr Miller, I'll get him.
-Mr Miller upstairs, you mean? -MRS ELTON: Yes.
-But he's not a doctor. -MRS ELTON: (SHOUTING) Mr Miller!
She's hysterical, Philip. Mr Miller is not a doctor.
-You've seen this? Aspirin, empty. -Oh, Lord.
And here's the glass. Must have ground them in there, look.
She must have wanted to dope herself before the gas.
No, the gas was off. The tap was turned on but the gas was off.
It must have run out at the meter.
-Where's her husband? -I don't know.
The bed hasn't been slept in.
-We ought to get hold of him, somehow. -Yes, but how?
ANN: (WHISPERING) She's opened her eyes.
Mrs Page? Mrs Page.
Poor Freddie!
PHILIP: It's all right, Mrs Page. Everything is all right now.
Poor Freddie! Poor darling. Freddie!
Don't worry, Mrs Page. You mustn't worry.
You're among friends.
We found this.
ANN: She came to, a moment ago.
How many?
(MRS ELTON WHIMPERS)
How many?
Twelve.
-Where's the bathroom? -In there.
Help me, please.
-A glass of hot water please, Mrs Elton. -Yes, straightaway.
MILLER: Bring my case, please.
Hadn't you better get on to the office, darling?
Look, it's all right for me but I don't like the idea of you being late.
They'll understand, there's never much in on Mondays.
After all, a suicide doesn't happen every day.
Let's hope it's just attempted suicide.
Poor soul, I wonder what made her do it.
Freddie? That's her husband, I suppose.
I've seen his letter downstairs, Fredrick Page Esquire.
-I've never liked the look of him. -She said, "Poor, darling Freddie."
That doesn't sound as if he'd deserted her or anything.
Then, where is he?
Husbands do, you know, occasionally go off on business
without taking their wives.
-Yes, of course. -What?
A suicide note.
-Who is it addressed to? -Freddie.
-Should we open it? -No, it may be wanted by the police.
-The police. Oh, dear. -I suppose we ought to ring them up.
It is sordid business, isn't it, a suicide?
I wonder if they think of that when they do it.
Police and coroners and things.
We ought to get in touch with somebody, though.
God, I wish her husband would come back.
Now that letter proves that he hadn't deserted her, she was expecting him.
Put it back exactly where you found it, darling.
-I did. -No, only a bit of it was showing.
It was half hidden, behind that clock.
-How is she? -Oh, he didn't say.
But she's looking better. He's given her an injection.
I've got to make some black coffee.
Oh, some here already. I'll warm it up.
Mrs Elton, we ought to get hold of Mr Page.
-Do you have any idea where he might be? -No, I can't say I have.
Well, does he go away often?
Oh, now and then. Not for more than a night usually.
-Well, where does he work? -Oh, I don't know.
Something to do with aeroplanes. Or used to be.
-Selling them? -Oh, no, flying them, I think.
Test pilot. Isn't that what they call it?
-Do you know for which company? -No.
She must have some relations in London we can get hold of.
Yes. Mrs Elton, has Mrs Page any relations in London?
No, always kept herself very much to herself, Mrs Page.
She must have had visitors?
Hardly at all. And they always asked for him.
-What were their names? -Oh, I can't remember.
Do try and help, Mrs Elton, this is desperately important.
Well, I'm sorry Mr Welch, it's a shock.
Yes, yes, of course. But now, look, Mrs Elton, think hard.
Do you know of anyone connected with Mrs Page
that we might get into touch with?
-Solicitor, bank manager? -Well, there is her husband, of course.
Yes, I know, but we haven't an idea where he is.
Oh, I don't mean...
No, I can't think of anyone.
Mrs Elton, what did you mean by, "There is her husband"?
Isn't Mr Page her husband?
-What's her real name? -I haven't said anything.
Now, look, Mrs Elton, if the police come round
this will all have to come out anyway.
Now you don't need to tell us anything you don't want to
but I do think that if you know her real husband,
we ought to tell him what's happened.
I don't know her real husband.
And what I do know,
I promised faithfully that I wouldn't tell a living soul.
It was all because I picked up her ration book one day,
and then she told me straight out all about it.
How she hadn't been able to get herself a divorce. Poor lamb.
She thought Mr Elton would turn her out.
As if I'd tell Mr Elton a thing like that.
I'm sure I'm right now, Philip.
This man Page has deserted her and she had no one to turn to.
So, you think I ought to tell her husband about this?
Oh, yes, Mrs Elton, it seems to me the only thing to do.
All right. Well, you do it 'cause I wouldn't know how.
Her name is Collyer.
C-O-L-L-Y-E-R.
And her husband's name is in the papers quite often, she showed me once.
They call him Mr Justice Collyer.
So, I suppose he's a judge.
-Sir William Collyer? -That's right.
Gosh.
(WHISPERING) Do you think you dare, Phillip?
I don't see why not.
Here we are. Collyer, William. There are two.
One's in Chiswick. Eaton Square, that's the one.
9:15. We ought to get him at his home.
Whatever you do, don't tell him you work at the Home Office.
Hello. Can I speak to Sir William Collyer, please?
No, I'd rather not give my name.
Just tell him, it's very urgent indeed and that it concerns his wife.
I'll wait.
Hello? Sir William Collyer?
Yes, I'm afraid I have some very serious news for you.
You wife has been concerned in an accident.
Well, it's rather difficult to tell you on the telephone.
Gas poisoning and an overdose of drugs.
No, but very ill.
No, she doesn't know I'm telephoning.
He's not here.
2 7 Waybridge Villas, Ladbroke Grove.
Flat number three.
-Did he seem upset? -He asked if Page was here.
I've rung him up, Mrs Elton. He's coming around.
Well, I only hope we've done the right thing.
-I think we have. -How is she?
Well, she drank her coffee quite peacefully.
Mrs Elton, don't you think we ought to get her a proper doctor?
I've got far more faith in Mr Miller than in any proper doctor, thank you.
Here we are.
Will you be wanting me for anything more?
No, Mrs Elton.
I'll leave this door on the latch.
Are you friends of hers?
My name is Welch. I live upstairs in number five. This is my wife.
There's nothing you can do now.
You don't mean she's dying?
-MILLER: On the contrary... -She'll recover?
Sixty grains of aspirin are not enough to kill a child.
And the symptoms of gas poisoning are very slight.
That's because the gas gave out at the meter.
Yes.
She couldn't have made a worse mess of it if she tried.
I must go back to my breakfast
and I'm sure there's no reason for us staying here any longer.
But is she really all right?
After 24 hours in the bed, she will be completely recovered.
Yes, her body but what about her mind?
Her mind is perfectly sound.
There is no trace of any psychotic symptoms
which might justify a certificate of insanity.
Yes, but she did try to kill herself, didn't she?
-It would seem so. -ANN: What made her do that?
She wanted to die, I suppose.
But mightn't she try to do it again, doctor?
I am not a doctor.
But don't you think she might try to do it again?
I'm not a prophet either.
In fact, I make a living out of other people's pretentions to prophecy.
But if you want me to be a punter for once,
I would say, she probably will try again
and will try again very soon.
But isn't there anything we can do about it?
No.
Well, there's a callous swine if you like.
He's phoney, that man. I'm certain he is.
He was just trying to impress us with all that stuff
about psychosis and things.
Of course she's ill. Of course she needs looking...
-Should you be out of bed? -I came for a cigarette.
They was a packet here, last night.
-Have one of these. -No, no, I won't smoke yours.
I know I bought a packet in with me. Ah, yes. Here they are.
Thank you so much. You're Mr Welch, aren't you?
Yes, that's right.
We met downstairs once.
-And this is Mrs Welch. -Yes.
How do you do?
Well, do you mind if I sit down? I'm still feeling a little strange.
-Shouldn't you get back to bed? -I feel much better sitting up.
-PHILIP: You've been very ill, you know. -Oh, no. Just a bit dopey.
Idiotic accident, wasn't it?
I'm terribly sorry for all the trouble I've caused.
I don't know how it could possibly have happened.
I'd been to a cinema by myself, you see,
and I came back here and I remember thinking
that the room was a little chilly.
So I turned the gas fire on to light it
and after that, as they say in novels, I knew no more.
Couldn't find the matches, I suppose. The fumes must have put me out.
It's lucky for you that you didn't put a shilling in the meter first.
-HESTER: The meter? -Yes, the gas cut off automatically.
Oh, that's what happened?
Yes, that was lucky.
-Are you sure you're feeling all right? -Perfectly all right, thank you.
Don't you think you ought to see a proper doctor?
Haven't I seen a proper doctor?
He's only an amateur. Bookmakers clerk or something.
Strange hobby for a bookmakers clerk. (LAUGHING)
Look, I'm sure I'm keeping you both. There is really no need to stay.
You've both been very kind.
Well, the fact is, I have something to tell you.
Are you looking for something?
Yes, I think I left a letter lying somewhere.
Is this it?
Yes, that's the one.
You were going to tell me something?
You may be very angry with me.
-Oh, I hope not. -I hope not too.
When we found you this morning, you seemed very ill.
Almost at death's door, in fact.
Mr Page was away and we didn't know where to get hold of him.
He's playing golf at Sunningdale. Do go on.
Well, I felt it my duty to get in touch with someone.
So, I'm afraid I took it on myself to ring up Sir William Collyer.
-What did you tell him? -That there'd been an accident.
-Did you give him this address? -Yes he's coming around.
-How soon? -He said at once.
PHILIP: I'm sorry if I've done wrong. I couldn't know, you see.
Of course not.
It was mainly my responsibility, Lady Collyer.
It was I who told Philip he ought to ring up.
Yes, I see, would you mind not using that name?
I'm sorry.
-HESTER: It was Mrs Elton who told you. -It slipped out by accident.
I may say, your secret is absolutely safe with both Ann and myself.
My guilty secret.
Well, that's very kind of you both.
Yes, well, I think we must be going.
Well, thank you so much. You've both been very kind.
I'm most grateful to you.
Let me know if there is anything I can do, won't you?
There is something.
You won't mention this idiotic accident to anyone, to anyone else, that is.
-PHILIP: I won't. -Do you know my...
-Do you know Freddie Page? -No.
Well, if you should meet him,
you will above all, be particularly careful
not to mention any of this to him. It might alarm him.
We won't say a word. Either of us.
-Goodbye. -Goodbye.
-Goodbye, Mrs Page. -Goodbye.
Oh, Mrs Elton.
You're up.
I'm sure you're shouldn't be.
Mrs Elton, if Sir William Collyer comes, I don't want to see him.
Well, I'm sorry about that. They got it out of me.
Yes, I know.
What shall I tell him?
Anything you like, provided I don't have to see him.
Oh, all right, dear, all right. I understand.
When will Mr Page be home?
Oh, I don't know? Sometime this evening, I suppose.
Well, I can pop up and sit with you if you like, until then.
It's all right, Mrs Elton, I will be quite all right by myself.
Will you, dear? Are you sure?
-You can trust me. -Oh, I didn't mean that you...
Didn't you?
Whatever possessed you to do a dreadful thing like that?
-The devil, I suppose. -Yes, I should just think it was.
Are you a Catholic?
I didn't mean that kind of devil. Well, maybe it's the same kind. Anyway...
When you're between any kind of devil and the deep blue sea,
the deep blue sea sometimes looks very inviting.
Did last night anyway.
I can't make you out. You're not a wicked woman.
Yet what you did last night was wicked.
Wicked and cruel.
Now, supposing had been Mr Page and not you
that we had found lying there this morning.
How would you have felt?
Very, very surprised, but he's not lying there.
He's playing golf and when he comes back from golf,
he's to know nothing of what happened last night.
Do you understand, Mrs Elton? Nothing.
-If that's the way you want it. -Yes, that's the way I want it.
-It's not money, is it, dear? -No, Mrs Elton, it's not money.
Because if it is, I was going to say about this flat...
That's very kind of you, Mrs Elton.
I know we owe you a month's rent and it will be paid, I promise you.
As a matter of fact, I've got someone very interested
in those two pictures there.
Oh, yes, very nice. Is that a pier?
Weymouth Pier.
Oh, yeah, you can tell at once.
How much would you get for a thing like that?
Well, for the two of them I'm asking £25.
Are you really? Well, I never...
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
-Mrs Page. -I'm sorry, sir, you can't come in.
Mrs Page is not... She's too ill to be bothered.
Yes, I see. Is she in here?
Tell her to go.
It's all right, Mrs Elton. Thank you.
-Are you all right? -Quite all right.
What happened?
How much did the boy tell you on the telephone?
Enough to spare you the necessity of lying to me.
I have to be careful what I say. Attempted suicide is a crime, isn't it?
-Yes. -And I'm talking to a judge.
You're talking to your husband.
Well, shall we say crise de nerfs?
Nonsense, you're as a sane person as any in the world.
Well, perhaps I've changed since I left you, Bill.
Well, I better not say that,
it would give you the opportunity of telling me, "I told you so."
You misjudge me.
Misjudge a judge. Isn't that lèse majesté?
Why didn't you let me know you were in London?
Last time, I saw you you said you never...
Last time I saw you, I didn't know what I was saying.
How long have you been back from Canada?
Oh, three or four months.
Freddie lost his job, you see, or rather he gave it up.
Neither of us liked Ottawa very much.
-Why didn't you answer my letter? -I never got a letter, Bill.
Oh, didn't you?
I addressed it to the Aircraft firm in Ottawa and put "Please forward".
Oh, well, we left rather hurriedly.
And I didn't have time to leave a forwarding address.
What did you say in your letter, Bill?
Just that you could have your divorce, if you still wanted it.
Oh.
Not getting a reply, I'm afraid I've taken no steps.
No.
Well, that was very generous of you, Bill.
Still I should have thought what you said before about the scandal
would've been even more operative now that you're a judge.
WILLIAM: What I said before was exaggerated.
I wanted to put every difficulty in your way that I could possibly could.
Well, sit down now you're here, Bill.
It's good to see you again.
-Have a cigarette? -No, thank you.
Has he deserted you?
He's playing golf at Sunningdale.
He plays there a lot these days. I wonder you haven't run into him.
-I haven't been to Sunningdale since... -You still feel so strongly.
-You know I do. -I know you did.
But, after all this time...
I suppose ten months isn't very long. I keep thinking it's so much longer.
-Is he being unfaithful to you? -No.
-He still loves you? -As much as he did ten months ago.
-And you still love him? -Yes, Bill.
-Is it money? -I still love him.
-Is it money? -No, it's not money.
-Has he still got a job? -Well, not as a test pilot.
He gave that up some time ago. He's working in the City now, you know.
Huh.
In a job in which they allow you to play golf on Mondays.
HESTER: Well, it's a sort of freelance job, you know.
(SIGHING) Yes, I see.
Salary.
You're on the wrong track, Bill. All right, we do owe a month's rent.
But money had nothing to do with it.
-Well, what was it then? -Bill, I'm not in the witness box.
You'll never get me to confess
I had any reason for trying to kill myself last night.
-Any logical reason, that is. -Ah, so you did try to kill yourself?
While the balance of my mind was temporarily disturbed.
Isn't that the legal phrase?
Well, what was it disturbed the balance of your mind?
(SHOUTING) I don't know.
A great tidal wave of illogical emotions, I should think.
-Can you give a name to those emotions? -Yes, I should think so.
Anger, hatred, shame in about equal parts.
-Anger at Page? -Yes.
-And hatred? -Of myself, of course.
Shame at being alive.
-I see. -Do you?
No.
I suppose, I don't.
-Can I do anything to help? -No, Bill, nobody can.
Well, at least I've found you again.
-Were you looking so very hard? -No.
You see, rather foolishly, I thought my indifference would hurt your vanity.
You must understand, I'm very inexperienced in matters of this kind.
So am I, Bill.
Almost as inexperienced as yourself.
-I'm glad you still wear it. -What?
Oh, yes, anniversary present, wasn't it?
Our seventh.
Good party we gave that evening.
(CHUCKLING)
All our nicest friends, weren't they?
I read Sybil's new book.
I didn't think it was as good as her last.
Tell me, is David very pompous now he's Solicitor General?
Not very.
-Is Alice as gay as ever? -Yes.
Oh, dear, I gave a speech that night, didn't I?
Yes, Old Lord Marsden was wildly impressed.
That's what comes of being a clergyman's daughter.
I could always impress your erudite friends when put to it.
Only wish I was good with Freddie's friends.
-Aren't you? -Oh, no.
On pub crawls, I'm a terrible fish out of water.
Pub crawls?
Oh, don't look so shocked.
There's nothing in this world more respectable than a pub crawl.
More respectable or more unspeakably dreary.
-Hester. -Yes?
It doesn't matter. The question I was going to ask you
is too big to put in to a single sentence.
Perhaps, the answer could be put into a single word.
We might disagree on the choice of that word.
There are polite words and impolite words.
They all add up to the same emotion.
That's my latest.
It's very nice.
-What were you angry with Page about? -Oh.
-Lots of things. Always the same things. -What?
That word we were talking about just now,
shall we call it love? It saves a lot of trouble.
But you said just now that his feelings for you haven't changed.
They haven't, Bill. You see, they couldn't.
Zero minus zero is still zero.
-How long have you known this? -From the beginning.
-But you told me... -I don't know what I told you, Bill.
And I'm sorry if I lied.
I was brought up to believe that, in cases of this sort,
it's more proper for the man to do the loving.
How in the name of reason, could you have gone on loving a man
who, by your own confession, can give you nothing in return?
But he can give me something in return and even does, from time to time.
-What? -Himself.
(EXHALING)
Perhaps you're right, Hester. Perhaps there is no one who can help you.
-Except myself, you were going to say. -Yes, I was.
I thought you were.
I think it's rather good.
Yes. Are you selling it?
Oh, I suppose so, if anyone wants to buy it.
I'll buy it.
-No, you won't. -Why not?
Because I don't want you to, that's why.
Hester, don't be childish. I said I liked the picture and...
Just leave the subject. I wanted your opinion, not your money.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
-Who is it? -Miller.
This is the man that looked after me this morning.
I'm going to have to let him in.
I told you to stay in bed.
I'm feeling perfectly well now, Mr Miller.
This is Sir William Collyer. Mr Miller.
WILLIAM: Hello.
Come down to the light, just let me look.
Tongue.
Oh, yes. You have a strong constitution.
You should live to a ripe old age.
Barring accidents, of course!
Barring accidents.
Mr Miller, I'm awfully grateful for all you did for my... For Mrs Page.
You needn't be, Sir William. I did very little for Mrs Page.
I take it, Mr Miller, that you are not a qualified practitioner.
You take it quite correctly.
I only asked because a qualified doctor, in a case of this rather delicate kind,
is strictly bound by a certain code.
You mean, no sneaking?
I congratulate you, Mr Miller, on your knowledge of our idioms.
Don't worry, Sir William. For you, Mrs Page, no sneaking.
Oh, I left a bottle of antiseptic in your bedroom. May I get it?
HESTER: Please do.
I don't think I like the look of this man.
Damn, we ought to have offered him a fee at least?
-He'd never accept it, you'd insult him. -I wonder, fair test.
Uh, Mr Miller, there is one other thing. If you were a qualified doctor, um...
Thank you.
Oh, I'll send you a receipt.
You win.
The study of human nature is, after all, my profession.
And now I must go, I'm due in court in 15 minutes.
-Did you bring the car? -Yes.
-Still the Austin? -No, a new one.
-Rather an older one, but a Rolls. -Oh, I must have a look.
Oh, Lord. You brought Flitton.
I wonder who he thought you were visiting in this low neighbourhood.
(LAUGHING)
-How is he? -He's very well.
I miss him, you know. I miss them all.
You know I do like that picture very much.
You shall have it.
Oh! Thank you very much. What a very handsome present.
Which reminds me, many happy returns of yesterday.
Thank you, Bill.
Well, will you take this now or shall I send it?
-May I call for it. -When?
-Well, what time are you expecting Page? -Oh, not till about seven.
-Well, I'll come to tea. -Five?
-Five twenty. -Right.
-Well... -Goodbye.
Bye.
(SLOW MUSIC PLAYING)
Hullo, Hes. How's tricks?
I've just done 93 down the Great West.
Alvis, smashing job.
Jackie Jackson gave me a lift.
We gave up the idea of playing golf. It's pouring down at Sunningdale.
By the way, a bloody great Rolls was moving off from here, as I came in.
I wonder whose it is. Do you know?
I suppose Old Ma Elton's lashed out and invested her life savings.
Shouldn't be surprised, considering what she must make out of us.
-Did you have a good weekend? -Not bad.
Won both my matches. Took a fiver off Jackie.
Match, bye and bye-bye.
He was livid.
I wanted to double the stakes but he wouldn't wear it.
-How much did you win altogether? -Seven.
Can I have some of it for Mrs Elton?
I thought you were going to sell one of those paintings.
-Is there any coffee left? -But I'm not now.
-Why not? -I've given one away.
That was a bloody silly thing to go and do, wasn't it?
Yes, I suppose it was.
Oh, hell! All right you can have three. I need the rest for lunch.
I'm taking a South American to the Ritz.
Get me, giving lunch parties at the Ritz.
-What South American? -Bloke I met at golf yesterday.
Aircraft business. I got myself given the old intro to him, you know.
One of England's most famous test pilots DFC and bar, DSO,
all the ex-Spitfire bull. Seemed impressed.
So he should.
Funny thing about gongs, when you think about what a lottery they were.
They don't mean a damn thing in war. Except as a line-shoot.
But, in peacetime, they're quite useful.
Now this bloke's worth bags of dough.
He's got some sought of tie up with Vickers over here, I think.
-Might fix something. -I hope so.
I say, you know you haven't looked at me once since I came in.
-Haven't I, Freddie? -No. Why's that?
-I can remember what you look like. -I haven't done anything, have I?
No, you haven't done anything.
You are not peeved about last night, are you?
-You see, the boys wanted to play... -It's all right.
again today. If I'd let them down...
There wasn't any special reason
you wanted me back for dinner last night, was there?
(EXPLOSIVELY) Oh, my God!
(EXHALING)
Many happy returns.
-Thank you, Freddie. -Blast.
I remembered it on Saturday too.
I was going past Barkers and I thought it's too late to get her a present now.
I'll have to find a shop open on Sunday, cigarettes or something.
Had you arranged anything special for dinner?
No, nothing special, steak, bottle of Claret.
-We'll have it tonight. -Yes.
Oh, come on now, Hes. No more sulks, please.
I said I'm sorry. I can't say more, can I?
-No, you can't say more. -Oh, come on now.
Give us a shot of those gorgeous brown orbs.
I haven't seen of them for two whole days.
This is me, Freddie Page, remember?
I remember.
Naughty to sulk with your Freddie.
Now go get dressed. We'll have a quick one at the Belvedere to celebrate.
(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)
Do you want me to lunch with your South American?
No, better not.
I can shoot a better line without your beady eyes on me.
-They were gorgeous orbs a moment ago. -They get beady in company.
-Now go on, darling. Hurry. -Yes.
You still love me?
I still love you.
Darling, where you going to be between five and six?
Nowhere particularly, why?
Well, it's just that I've got somebody coming and I wanted to see them alone.
-Customer? -Yes.
All right, I'll go to the new club down the road.
And don't get sozzled, remember our dinner.
You shut up.
(LAUGHING)
Darling, I'm out of cigarettes. Have you got any?
There's some in my dressing gown pocket.
All right.
-Have you got them? -What?
Oh, yes. I've got them, thanks.
(UPBEAT MUSIC CONTINUES)
And it's too bloody silly, old boy.
Just because I forgot her birthday!
My God, if all the men who forgot their wife's birthdays
were to come home and find suicide notes waiting for them,
the line of widowers would stretch from here to John o'Groats.
-Or further away. -You can't go further.
Well, from here to John o' Groats and back
and, well, ending up at the Windmill then.
Oh, shut up, Jackie. This isn't funny.
I asked you around here for help and advice.
Not to let loose a flood of corny wisecracks.
I'm sorry, Freddie.
Only the way you describe it, it sounds so idiotic.
Are you sure it wasn't a joke?
-I've told you it wasn't. -Oh, thanks, old boy.
Got the whole story out of Old Ma Elton.
Hes definitely tried to gas herself,
would have succeeded if there'd been a shilling in the blasted meter.
Well, that shows she couldn't have been too serious about it.
Where's your imagination?
If you are in a state of mind where you gonna try and bump yourself off
you don't think about things like meters.
Well, I would.
That from a man who once wrote off three Spits
by forgetting to put his ruddy undercarriage down.
No, that was different.
Well, I wasn't trying to bump myself off.
No, you gave a fairly good imitation of it.
-At the Court of Inquiry... -Will you shut up, Jackie?
We are talking of something a good deal more important.
Well, you started it. All I said was, well, about the meter.
I know what you said about the meter but you're wrong.
Now you can take it from me that Hes did definitely try last night
to kill herself.
And all because you forgot her birthday?
I know.
I tell you, Jackie, it knocked me ruddy flat.
I can imagine.
My God, aren't women the end?
-Where is she now? -Out looking for me, I shouldn't wonder.
Oh, no.
She was having a bath
and, after I read that letter, I just ran and did a bunk.
I'd to have a drink quick.
Anyway I was damned if I going in to Hes and fall on my knees and say,
"My darling, I've grievously sinned in forgetting your birthday.
"If I promise I'll never do it again
"will you promise me you won't gas yourself again?"
I mean the whole thing's too damned idiotic.
-Oh, there must be something else. -There isn't anything else.
-Another girl? -There never has been.
Well, had a lot of rows lately?
No, as a matter of fact, these last few months
we've been getting on better than before.
-There must have been some rows. -You know...
-Very minor ones. -What were they about?
The usual things.
Oh, damn it, Jackie. You know me, I can't be a ruddy Romeo all the time.
Uh, who can?
Well, according to her, the whole damn human race.
-Male part of it anyway. -Oh, what does she know about it.
Damn all.
Hell, it's not that I'm not in love with her too. Of course, I am.
Always have been. Always will.
(SIGHING)
Well, "moderation in all things" has always been my motto.
-Have another? -Only a spot.
I've got nothing on my conscience in that respect.
She knew what she was taking on.
You don't think it's the marriage question that's upset her?
I'm the one that gets upset by that, not her.
My God, it's so damned unfair.
Supposing she'd pulled it off last night,
you realise what everyone would have said?
That I'd bust up a happy marriage and driven Hes to suicide.
I'd have been looked on as a ruddy murderer.
-Did she think of that, I wonder? -(EXHALES)
All over the ruddy News of the World, Jackie,
and this read out in court.
My gosh, I would have been lucky to have got out of that without being lynched.
I was thinking of lunch today at the Ritz.
I would never had been able to go to into a restaurant again
-without people nudging and... -Yes, I know.
By the way, how did it go off? Your lunch with Lopez.
Do you mind not changing the subject?
If I'm boring you, just say so
and we'll have a cosy little chat about the weather.
Look, I'm sorry. I...
Well, I only wanted to know if he'd offered you anything.
That's all.
Oh, this is really getting me down.
I'm sorry, Jackie. I didn't mean to bite your head off.
No, that's all right.
Lopez, yes. He offered me a job all right.
Oh, good show.
A test pilot in South America.
I don't suppose you want to go to South America.
Oh, I don't want to go anywhere as a test pilot.
-Well, they say you were the tops. -I was. A year ago.
Since then things have changed a bit. Besides, I'm too ruddy old.
I want something chair-borne, not airborne.
I've had flying for life.
-You want one? -No, thanks.
-Oh, do you think you ought to? -I know I ought to.
-Why, am I drunk? -No.
It's only that I gather you've been at it most of the morning.
I shall be at it most of the evening too.
I shall be at it until I've forgotten that this ever existed.
-Read it and see. -I don't think so.
Squeamish, aren't you?
Well, thing like that is a bit...private, isn't it?
It would've been read out in court by the coroner, wouldn't it?
-Yeah, there is that I suppose. -"There is that," you suppose.
All right, I'm the coroner, you're the public. Now, listen.
"My darling, a moment ago, before I took the Aspirin
"I knew exactly what I wanted to say to you.
"I've run through this letter in my mind so very often
"and it has always been most eloquent and noble and composed.
"Now those moving, pretty words just don't seem to be there.
"I think that's because this time I know I really am going to die."
Oh, look, don't go on, old boy!
Knowing Hes as I do, I'd really rather not hear the rest.
"I know that, in the morning,
"when you read this letter, any feelings you ever had for me
"will be driven out of your heart forever.
"Poor Freddie, poor darling Freddie. I'm so sorry."
Sorry.
"You'll want to know why.
"I'd so much like to make you understand, because if you understood,
"you might forgive.
"But to understand what I'm doing now you must feel,
"even a small part of what I'm feeling now.
"And that I know you can never do.
"You can't help being as you are.
"I can't help being as I am.
"The fault lies with whichever of the Gods had himself a good..."
-Hello, Jackie. -Hello.
-How are you? -Oh, very well, thanks, Hes.
Where have you two been all afternoon?
Well, I haven't actually been with Freddie.
I was at home and he rang up. He asked me over for a chat.
I see.
-Where were you, Freddie? -A lot of places.
-I've been to most of them. -I thought you might.
Can I have that letter please?
-Why? -Belongs to me.
Well there might be two views about that.
It's got my name on the envelope.
An undelivered letter, I should say, belongs to the sender.
Please.
-What are you doing? -Just tidying up.
It's my bottle, I paid for it.
Did you have a good game yesterday, Jackie?
Oh, yes, thanks, Hes.
I heard Freddie beat you. He must be getting rather good.
Off that handicap, he is. It's a crying scandal.
Look, Hes, I really ought to be dashing along.
Oh, don't go. Freddie's got to go out in a moment.
You haven't forgotten about being out at five, have you, darling?
-FREDDIE: What time is it now? -Getting on.
Of course, you don't want your respectable art lover
to see me in my present state.
I asked you this morning to be out at five.
-I thought you'd given that away? -I have. I'm just going to wrap it up.
Hes, what are you gonna sell this bloke?
Whatever he wants to buy.
(MOCKING FAKE LAUGHING)
Look, Freddie, old boy, I do think you ought to go talk to her.
I'll disappear...
No, I've got a whole blasted lifetime to talk to her. You stay.
-Oh, go easy on the scotch, old boy. -I've told you, I need it.
Look, Freddie, old boy, I don't want to be rude,
but you don't think, perhaps, you might
be dramatising this thing a bit too much?
What, dramatising? She's the one that's dramatising.
I mean that cool, calm, collected act you saw just now, that's dramatising.
Oh, she enjoys that. I'm just the poor chap
who's having his few drinks 'cause he's feeling ruddy miserable.
Well, I don't expect she can be feeling exactly happy herself.
I suppose, if you were in my place, you'd smother Liz with tender embraces.
Well, I think I'd talk to her about it.
I'd asked her what the trouble was and what I could do to put it right.
-A few white lies. -Oh, don't be a clod.
"A few white lies." Damn it, man talk, sense.
Hes tried to kill herself last night.
Oh, I'm sorry, old boy.
Perhaps I'm a bit out of my depth.
Out of your depth? I should bloody well say you are.
I'm out of my depth too and it's a sensation I don't care for.
Oh, my God, how I hate getting tangled up in other people's emotions.
It's the one thing I have tried to avoid all my life.
Yet it always seems to be happening to me, always.
You remember Dot in the war, don't you?
Yes. She was a load of fun.
Load of fun, till she started messing around with my service revolver.
Oh, she didn't...
No, still, you can imagine the fun got a bit sour after that.
Then there was...
Oh, it doesn't matter. It's just too many emotions.
Far too ruddy many. I loathe them.
A sort of homme fatal, eh?
It's not so funny, you know, Jackie.
It's not so funny.
Hes says I've got no feelings.
Well, perhaps she's right.
But, anyway, I've got something inside which can get hurt.
The way it's hurt now.
I don't enjoy causing other people misery.
I'm not a ruddy sadist.
You know, my sort never gets a hearing.
We're called a lot of rude names, nobody ever thinks we have a case.
Look at it this way, Jackie.
Take two people, A and B.
A loves B, B doesn't love A. Or, at least, not in the same way.
He wants to but he just can't. It's not in this nature.
Now B hasn't asked to be loved.
He may be a perfectly ordinary bloke, kind, well-meaning, good friend.
Perhaps even a good husband, if he's allowed to be.
But he's not allowed to be. That's my point.
Demands are made on him which he just can't fulfil.
If he tries, it's cheating. Cheating doesn't help anyone.
Now if he's honest and doesn't try,
well, then everyone says he's a skunk and a heartless cad.
I mean, where are you?
(KNOCKING)
Come on, we better get weaving.
-Oh, excuse me, is Mrs Page in? -No, not at the moment.
-You're Mr Miller, aren't you? -Yes.
-And you are Mr Page? -That's right.
Come in. I want to talk to you.
Thank you.
You looked after my wife this morning, didn't you?
Yes. I looked after Mrs Page.
This is Jackie Jackson. Mr Miller.
-Care for a drink? -Thank you.
I'd like to know how much she said to you.
Mrs Elton says you were with her alone.
You needn't worry about him, he knows all about it.
She said nothing.
-Nothing about why she did it? -Nothing.
-Do you know why she did it? -No.
-If you like, I'll tell you. -Oh, no, Freddie.
She did it because I forgot her birthday.
-Oh, really? -You don't look surprised.
I'm not. I assumed it was something like that.
Something so trivial?
Nothing can be called trivial that produces the desire to die.
-Yeah, but forgetting a birthday? -Yes. That is trivial.
A riddler, this bloke.
All right, what's the real reason then? What's behind the triviality?
I don't think you need me to tell you that.
I'd like to hear it anyway.
Yourself, I suppose.
Just about makes me a ruddy murderer.
A ruddy near-murderer.
-Look here, I don't think... -Shut up, Jackie.
-Well, he doesn't know the facts. -The facts.
What the hell do the facts matter?
It's what behind the facts that matters. Isn't that so, Mr Miller?
-Yes. -What's behind the facts is me.
-I imagine so. -Or little murdering me.
All right, my friend. What would you do about it if you were me?
That's a stupid question.
I don't have the capacity for inspiring suicidal love.
Aren't you lucky?
And what about a poor bloke
that has this capacity for inspiring suicidal love?
What does he do about it?
Refuse to love at all.
-Have another drink. -Thank you.
My God, we've had this bottle.
What you just said, old boy, is a load of tripe.
Very possibly.
As this gentleman has already pointed out,
I know nothing of the facts.
Well, one of the facts is that this character has no intention,
at this stage in his life,
of turning himself into a bloody hermit.
-Then, I imagine he hasn't. -You're damn right he hasn't, old boy.
Come on, let's continue this argument down the road.
New club opens at four.
Look Freddie, old boy, I really ought to be dashing along.
-Liz will be wondering... -Ah, Liz would be wondering.
Portrait of a happily married man, Mr Miller.
Man that can be fairly certain of coming home
and not finding his loving wife lying in front of the gas fire.
-Oh, hello. -Good afternoon.
-I was just on my way, Hes. -Must you go?
I must, I'm afraid. Well, you're turning us out of the flat anyway, aren't you?
Yes, but I was hoping you'd keep Freddie company.
I'm afraid I can't, Hes. I've got people coming in.
Oh, bad luck, darling.
No nursey for poor little Freddie-Weddie.
Unless, of course, Mr Miller here would like to volunteer for the job.
I'm afraid I have some work to do.
What sought of work? Curing other people's love problems.
Sending out for the latest prices for the St Leger.
-Are you a bookie? -Yes.
I should never have thought. What price Makeshift?
-100 to 7. -Will you take a fiver to win?
I'll submit your name to my proprietor.
Well, cheerio, Freddie. Goodbye.
Give my love to Liz.
Better not give her my love, Jackie. From all accounts, it's pretty lethal.
Goodbye.
Just tidying up.
Freddie, I don't think you ought to be going out now.
I thought you wanted me out, your customer.
Oh, Mrs Elton can give him a message. He can come back some other time.
Why don't you go and have a good lie down?
Oh, no, no, no. I'm a good boy. When I'm told to go, I go.
Will you lend me a shilling?
Just in case I'm late for dinner.
-Do you know where he's going? -I don't know. To the new club.
Are you really working, or was that just an excuse.
I'm really working.
Oh.
He'll be happier by himself than with me.
Why'd you say that?
Because I seem to have become the voice of his conscience.
His conscience.
You've appear to have found something in him that I have missed.
They say the eyes of love are blind.
My eyes aren't blind. They can see quite well.
Too well.
To love with eyes open makes life very difficult.
Almost unbearable.
Difficult.
-I don't like him being alone. -Very well, I shall volunteer.
Oh, thank you, Mr Miller I'm most grateful to you.
There's no need. Oh!
-Did you paint that? -Yes.
I only ask because it doesn't seem to be in this style of the other.
Oh, well, I was 17 when I did that one.
Indeed. Interesting. Did you go to art school?
No.
-There's freshness about this... -Please follow him. I'm most anxious.
-Good evening. -Oh!
Sir William, I was going to put this in the post.
-You're early. -I know. I came straight from court.
Huh! This is a piece of insolence. And he has written on the back.
"For quasi-professional services, received with thanks, K. Miller."
-Yes, I suppose the laugh is on me. -I promised you tea, didn't I?
Oh, don't bother about tea.
It's all right if I stay for a moment or two, isn't it?
Yes, Bill, I think so.
I saw Page just now.
Did he see you?
No, no, I was in the car just turning into the street.
-He was quite obviously drunk. -Why do you say that?
Well, his passage down the street was rather erratic.
Oh, I don't think that could have been Freddie, Bill,
he only left the flat a moment ago.
-Hester... -He'd been having a drink with a friend.
-(CLEARING THROAT) -Oh really, Bill.
Even a judge can let his imagination run away with him.
How long has this been going on?
How long has what been going on?
In the old days, he hardly touched alcohol.
-Is that so? I don't remember. -He never drank at Sunningdale.
He used to say it was bad for his judgement as a pilot.
All right then, Bill. If in the last 10 months, Freddie's taken to drink,
-it must be me who's driven him there. -And he who's driven you to suicide.
No, I drove myself there.
Hester, what's happened to you?
Love, Bill. You know that thing you read about
in your beloved Jane Austen and Anthony Trollope.
"Love, that droppeth like the gentle dew from heaven."
Oh, that's wrong, isn't it?
I know, "That comforteth, like sunshine after rain."
Rather an unfortunate quotation, go on with it.
I can't, I've forgotten.
"Love comforteth, like sunshine after rain"
"and lust's effect is tempest after sun."
"Tempest after sun", that would be very apt, wouldn't it,
if that's all I felt for Freddie.
-In sober truth, Hester, isn't it? -Oh, for God's sake, Bill.
Do you really think I can tell you, in sober truth, what I feel for Freddie?
It's all far too big and confusing to be wrapped up in a neat, little parcel
and labelled "lust".
Lust isn't the whole of life,
and Freddie is, you see, to me, the whole of life.
And of death too, it seems. Put a label on that, if you can.
Oh, gosh, I wish he hadn't drunk all the whisky.
Would you like to go out?
No, I better stay in and await developments.
What developments?
Oh, quite a large variety are apt to offer themselves
-when Freddie's on the rampage. -Huh.
What made us choose Sunningdale that summer?
It was your idea, you wanted the golf.
Yes, you weren't keen, I remember. You would have preferred the sea.
Yes.
You know, you've never told me exactly how it first happened.
No, I don't suppose I did.
It was the day you were playing for The President's Cup.
Oh, yes, I remember.
I came up to the club house to pick you up,
to go on to that party at the Hendersons'.
You were still out playing, and Freddie was there alone,
he's been chucked for a game. He was very bad tempered.
I'd met him before, of course,
up at the club house with the others, but I'd never paid him much attention.
Didn't even think he was particularly good looking.
And that RAF slang used to irritate me, I remember.
-Such an anachronism now, isn't it? -He does it for effect, I suppose?
He does it because his life stopped in 1940.
He loved 1940.
Some like that, you know.
I don't think he's really been happy since he left the RAF.
Anyway, that day,
-you were a long time over your game. -We were held up badly.
And Freddie and I sat on the veranda together for at least an hour.
And, for some reason, he talked very honestly and touchingly about himself,
how worried he was about the future,
how his life seemed to have no purpose or direction.
How he envied you.
-The brilliant lawyer. -That was good of him.
Well, he meant it sincerely.
And then, suddenly, he put his hand on my arm,
and said something very conventional about envying you
for reasons other than your career.
And I laughed at him and he laughed back like a guilty, small boy.
He said, "It's true, you know.
"It's not just a lie, and I really think you're the most attractive..."
I mean, I didn't really listen to the words,
because I knew in that tiny moment,
when we were laughing together so close, that I had no hope.
No hope at all.
It was that night you insisted on coming up to London with me, wasn't it?
Yes.
And you didn't want to come back to Sunningdale the next weekend either,
-I remember. -No.
When...
Exactly?
September.
Do you remember we went up to London together to see a play?
But that meeting in the clubhouse was in June.
June the 24th.
During those two months why didn't you talk to me about it?
And what would you have said to me if I had?
What I say now!
That this man who you say you love,
is morally and intellectually a mile your inferior
and has absolutely nothing in common with you, whatever.
And that what you're suffering from is no more than an ordinary,
and rather sordid, infatuation
and that it is your plain and simple duty to exert every effort of will
you're capable of in order to return to sanity at once!
How would you have answered that?
By agreeing with you, I suppose,
but it wouldn't have made any difference.
And if we'd been able to have a child,
how much difference would that have made?
Isn't reality enough to occupy us, Bill?
Oh! Meaning, I suppose, it would have made no difference.
-That's not what I said. -It was fantastic to think
what was caused by my decision to rent that damn villa!
Bill, please don't go on, Freddie and I would have met anyway.
I think perhaps you should go.
Oh, you believe in affinities now, I suppose?
I believe that Freddie and I were fated to meet, that's all.
As it turned out, a pretty evil fate.
If there are good affinities, there must be evil ones too.
Don't go without your present,
after all the trouble I've been to wrapping it up.
Thought it might have been.
Not many people who come to this place have a big, black Rolls.
-Where's Miller? -Miller?
-Well, didn't you see him at the club? -I didn't go to the club.
-That's the same chauffeur, isn't it? -WILLIAM: Yes.
Bill came to see me because somebody told him about my accident.
Yes. You've heard about her accident, have you?
Yes.
-Did you ever forget her birthday? -No.
No, I shouldn't think you're the forgetful type.
-You're a judge now, aren't you? -Yes.
-Still earning packets of money? -A certain amount.
-Still love Hes? -Don't listen to him, Bill, he's drunk.
Freddie, I think you ought to go and lie down.
You see how I'm bullied. I bet you were never bullied like that.
Freddie, please, try and behave yourself.
I'm not behaving badly.
I was just asking the judge here a simple question.
I'd rather like to know the answer.
Still, I suppose it doesn't really matter.
-I'm so sorry, Bill. -That's all right.
-I think perhaps you should go. -Yes.
The answer to that question is yes, you know.
What?
The question Page asked me just now. The answer is yes.
-Oh, please, Bill, don't. -I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
(CLEARING THROAT) Uh, you're sure you can cope with the situation?
Oh, heaven's, yes. This is nothing.
He's changed a lot, he looks quite different.
-He hasn't been well, lately. -No.
Freddie, darling, let me in.
Freddie, don't be childish, let me in.
Why, you're looking very smart.
-Going out somewhere? -Yes.
-Where? -To see a man at a job.
-What man? -Lopez.
-Lopez? -The South American I had lunch with.
Oh, yes, of course! I forgot. How did that go off?
-Went off all right. -And do you think you'll get the job?
Yes, I think so. Made a fairly definite offer.
Well, let's have a look at you.
Oh, darling, you could have changed your shirt.
Oh, yes, I hadn't a clean one.
No, nor had you. I'll wash one out for you tomorrow.
-Yes. Does it look too bad? -No, no, it'll pass.
-Your shoes could do with a clean. -Yes, I'll give them a rub.
No, take them off, I'll do them.
You always manage to get shoe polish all over your face, Lord knows how.
-What's the job? -Yes, I suppose I must tell you.
Yes, Freddie, I think I'd like to know.
Look, Hes, I've got to talk for a bit now,
it's not going to be easy, so don't interrupt, do you mind?
You always could argue the hind leg off a donkey
and, just when I've got things clear in my mind,
I don't want them muddled up again.
I'm sorry, Freddie, but I must interrupt you straightaway.
After this afternoon, how could you have things clear in your mind?
No, I'm all right now, Hes. I had a cup of black coffee
and after that, a bit of a walk, I know what I'm doing.
What are you doing, Freddie?
Accepting a job in South America as a test pilot.
A test pilot?
But you've told me a hundred times you'd never go back to that.
After that accident in Canada,
you said you have no nerve or judgement left.
They'll come back. I had too many drinks that time in Canada, you know that.
Yes, I know that. The court of inquiry knows that.
Does this man Lopez know that?
No, of course not. He won't hear either.
Don't worry about my nerve and judgement, Hes.
A month or two on the wagon, I'll soon be the old ace again,
the old dicer with death.
Please don't use that idiotic RAF slang, do you mind? This is too important.
Yes, it is important.
-Well, whereabouts in South America? -Somewhere near Rio.
I see.
-Well, when do we start? -We don't.
-We don't? -Well, you and I don't.
Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you, Hes. I'm going alone.
Why, Freddie?
Well, if I'm to stay on the wagon, I've got be alone.
-Have you? -Hell, no, that's not the real reason.
Listen, Hes, darling...
Well, you've always said, haven't you, that I don't really love you?
Well, in your sense, I suppose that's true.
What I do feel for you is a good deal stronger
than I've ever felt for anybody else in my life.
Or ever will feel, I should think.
That's why I went away with you in the first place.
That's why I've stayed with you all this time,
and that's why I must go away from you now.
That sounds rather like a prepared speech, Freddie.
Yes, I suppose it is a bit prepared, I thought it up on my walk.
But it's still true, Hes.
I'm far too fond of you to let things slide.
And that letter was a hell of a shock!
I often knew you were a bit unhappy,
and you knew often, I was a bit down too,
but I hadn't a clue how much the difference in our feelings
had been hurting you.
And it's too damn much to ask of any bloke to carry on
as if nothing had happened,
when he knows for a fact that he's driving the only girl he's ever loved
to suicide.
And you think leaving me will drive me away from suicide?
That's a risk I'll have to take, isn't it?
It's a risk both of us will have to face.
You mustn't scare me like this, Freddie.
No scare, Hes.
You know perfectly well, you'll feel completely differently in the morning...
No, I won't, Hes. Not this time.
Besides, I don't think I'll be here in the morning.
-Where will you be? -I don't know, out.
Somewhere. I think I'd better get out tonight.
-Oh, no, Freddie! -It's better that way.
I'm scared by your arguing.
I know this is right, you see, I know it.
But with your gift of the gab,
you'll muddle things up for me again and I'll be lost.
I won't, Freddie, I won't. I promise I won't.
But you must stay tonight, Freddie, just tonight.
-No, Hes. -Just tonight, Freddie, just one night!
-No, sorry, Hes. -Well, don't be so cruel.
-How can you be so cruel? -Hes, this is our last chance!
If we miss it, we're done for!
-We're death to each other, you and I. -That's not true!
It is true, darling, and you've know it longer than I have.
And I'm such a damn fool, I should've done it long ago!
That's it, you know. It's written, in letters of fire over our heads!
You and I are death to each other!
(CRYING)
-I haven't finished them! -They're all right.
(CONTINUES CRYING)
I'm so sorry, Hes. Oh, God, I'm sorry, please don't cry.
You don't know what it does to me.
(CONTINUES CRYING)
Not this minute, Freddie, please, not this minute.
You've got all your things here, you've got to pack.
-I'll send for them. -You promised to come back for dinner.
-I'm sorry. -You can't break a promise like that.
Freddie, you can't. Just come back for dinner, I won't argue, I promise.
If you want, you could...
But you mustn't leave me alone tonight, Freddie.
Freddie, don't!
(SCREAMING) Freddie! Don't leave me alone tonight!
(SOFT BIG BAND MUSIC PLAYING)
(PHONE RINGING)
Hello?
Uh, no, I'm afraid he's not in at the moment.
Yes, it is. Who's that?
Oh, good evening.
Well, yes. I am expecting him back.
What time is it now? 11:10? As late as that?
(MUSIC CONTINUING)
Look, is it about golf?
No, no, no. That's quite all right. I wasn't asleep, I was just reading.
Can I get him to phone you? He's got your number, has he?
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
No, that's quite all right.
Perfectly all right.
Good night.
(KNOCKING CONTINUES)
-Hello, my dear. -Yes, Mrs Elton.
Well, I just thought I'd pop up. See how you were?
-Mr Page not in? -No.
Oh, don't you want the fire on? It's turned quite cold, all of a sudden.
-No, thank you. -Fancy not drawing the curtains.
Oh. Excuse me.
-Good evening. -Good evening, Mrs Page.
I just wondered if Phillip was here, by any chance.
Phillip? Oh, yes, of course, your husband!
No, why should he be?
I thought perhaps Mr Page was back and...
Is he with him?
-Yes, I think so. -Where?
We were having our dinner at the Belvedere
and Mr Page was in the bar
and then he came up and sat at our table.
I see.
Of course, we hardly know him at all, you know,
but he was very nice and friendly and said he wanted company.
He gave us a brandy each and after that he asked Phillip to go on with him
to this new club for a few moments.
Which new club?
(EXHALING) I'm afraid I can't remember the name.
How was he?
-Do you mean, was he... -Drunk, yes.
Well, I wouldn't actually say, drunk. Of course, that was two hours ago.
(SIGHING)
Phillip doesn't drink at all, of course, so that's all right.
The only thing is, I know it sounds awfully silly of me,
but I'm not very good at being left alone.
No, Mrs Welch, I wouldn't worry.
I'm sure your husband will be back very soon.
Oh, yes. I expect so. (GIGGLING NERVOUSLY)
If he comes in here, send him straight up, will you?
-I will. Good night. -Good night.
Mrs Elton, do you remember the name of that new club?
No, dear, I don't, I'm afraid.
I'm sure a card came.
-The Crow's Nest. -That's right.
I knew it was something like that.
(DIALLING)
Hello, good evening. Yes, could I speak to Mr Page?
Mr Page, yes.
Oh, how long ago?
I see. Well, if he comes back, could you give him a message?
Could you tell him that his wife called?
His wife, yes.
Thank you, waiter. Oh, wait, wait a minute, waiter! Waiter!
Don't tell him anything.
Anything at all.
Good night.
I don't know how he could go and do a thing like that,
leaving you alone tonight after what's happened.
Mrs Elton, haven't you got work to do?
Yes, dear. Plenty.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be unkind.
You don't need to tell me.
You couldn't mean to be unkind. You're not that sort.
I'll let you into a little secret.
You're my favourite tenant.
Am I?
Sad, isn't it, how one always seems to prefer nice people
to good people, don't you think?
Oh! Mr Miller!
-You're back from your work early. -Yes.
How are you tonight, Mrs Page?
Quite well, thank you.
-Do you usually work as late as this? -Sometimes.
What have you got in that formidable-looking bag?
It is nothing. Nothing at all.
Oh, Mr Miller,
I wonder if you'll just have a look at Mr Elton tonight?
He's bad again.
-I'll come down. -Thank you ever so much.
You shouldn't have asked him that about the bag, dear.
He hates to tell.
Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't really curious.
I was just talking for the sake of talking.
I wouldn't use that thing again tonight, dear, if I was you.
No, perhaps you're right.
Why don't you go to bed? I'll bring you a nice, warm drink.
Or I could ask Dr Miller to give you one of his sleeping pills.
He is a real doctor, isn't he?
He was.
Yes, I thought he'd been in trouble.
-How, dear? -Oh, fellow feeling, I suppose.
Yes, he was in trouble once.
Bad trouble.
Don't say I told you, will you?
Poor Mr Miller. I'm sorry for him. He so ashamed of people knowing.
-Did he tell you about it? -No.
Just after he come here, there was a letter for him
addressed to Kurt Müller, MD.
And then, of course, I remembered the case!
Of course, there's been quite a lot in the papers about it.
I didn't let on to him that I knew but he guessed I did, all right,
because, one day, when I was saying how tidy he always kept his room,
"Well," he said, "Mrs Elton, I suppose tidiness
"is the only lesson I ever did learn in jail."
Just like that.
That was the only time he ever mentioned it.
I think it's a wicked shame the way they've treated him.
Imagine a man like that being a bookmaker's clerk.
Now there's waste for you, if you like.
-Well, why did he take the job? -Because beggars can't be choosers.
And will he never get back on the Medical Register?
No, not a hope, I should say, dear.
And what he did wasn't the sort of thing that people forgive very easily.
Ordinary, normal people, I mean.
Well, you've forgiven him, Mrs Elton.
There was a couple once in Number 11...
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
Oh! I can hear him on the stairs.
I'll go down and get him ready, shall I?
MILLER: Yes.
I wonder if you'll be kind enough to give her one of your sleeping pills?
I thought of that myself.
Thank you, Doctor.
I've asked you before not to call me that.
Oh, I'm sorry. I keep forgetting.
-Are you going to bed now? -In a moment.
Don't be too long.
Everyone's very solicitous of me this evening.
Are you surprised?
Voices carry on the stairs of this house.
Freddie's and mine, you mean?
Everyone heard us, I suppose.
All those respectable tenants nudging each other.
"There goes that woman's drunken boyfriend, walking out on her.
"Serves her right."
I didn't say that.
But then, of course, I'm not a respectable tenant.
What shall I do?
What makes you think I can tell you?
How near did you come to a gas fire once?
Mrs Elton, hmm?
You ask my advice...
Take those pills and sleep tonight.
In the morning, go on living.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
That is the most specific advice I can give you.
-WILLIAM: Hester? -(CONTINUES KNOCKING)
Hester. Oh.
I don't apologise. I've got to see you.
I'm just going, Sir William.
Good night.
When did this arrive?
I don't know. It was found about 20 minutes ago.
I gather he dropped it into the box without ringing the bell.
It is true, I suppose?
Yes, it's true.
When?
This afternoon, just after you left.
And what was his reason?
What happened last night. That's why he was drunk this afternoon.
He said we were death for each other.
(SCOFFING) In vino veritas.
He wasn't so drunk when he said that.
What's he going to do?
He's taken a job as a test pilot in South America.
I see.
I rather like the phrase, "Sorry to have caused so much bother."
Has a nice ring of RAF understatement.
-I'm most awfully sorry for you, Hester. -Oh, it's all right.
Bound to happen sometime, I suppose.
I have a faint inkling of how you must...
I'll get over it, I imagine.
You're looking very smart. Where've you been?
At home. I had one or two people in to dinner.
Oh, who?
Olive, the Prestons, an American judge and his wife.
-Was Olive in good form? -Yes, fairly.
She said one very funny thing.
-What was that? -Damn, I...
I've forgotten. No, no, I do remember. It was...
Well, now I think about it, it's not all that funny.
It must have been the way she said it.
She told the American judge that he had a face like an angry Cupid.
(BOTH LAUGHING)
"An angry Cupid"? I can just hear her.
"An angry Cupid."
(LAUGHING)
(CRYING)
Oh, Hester.
I wish I could say something that would help.
I know it's small comfort at this moment but this must be for the best, you know.
You yourself spoke of an evil affinity, didn't you?
I'm sorry. I couldn't help that.
You know, you must get out of this flat as quickly as possible.
In fact...
I don't think you should be left alone here at all.
You were alone here last night, weren't you?
Well, where could I do?
Well, I could make a very tentative suggestion.
In fact, the suggestion that Page makes in that letter.
-No, Bill, that's impossible. -Have you forgotten so soon what...
(SHOUTING) Bill, please! I've asked you.
I expect you'd like a drink, wouldn't you?
Good idea.
Oh, dear, I forgot. Freddie's finished all the whisky.
-Oh, it doesn't matter. -No, no, there's something here. Claret.
Its uncorked I'm afraid. It's from the local grocers.
I don't know what your fastidious palete will make of it.
I'm sure it's delicious.
-Is it all right? -It's very good.
Now what's the future to be?
Well, I haven't really thought yet.
Well, don't you think you should?
Well, I'll try and stay on here for a while.
And then, if I can't sell my paintings, I'll get a job.
What sort of job?
There must be something I can do.
You contemplate living alone for the rest of your life?
I don't contemplate anything, Bill.
I'm not in a particularly contemplative mood.
Well, when you are, I would like you to contemplate a very...
Bill, please! I've asked you...
Hester, for God's sake! Don't you see what I'm offering you?
And don't you see how difficult it is for me to refuse?
-Then why need you refuse? -Because I must.
I can't go back to being your wife, Bill.
Because I no longer am your wife.
We can't wipe out the last year as if it never happened.
Don't you understand?
I only understand that I'm more in love with you now
than I was on our wedding day.
You weren't in love with me on our wedding day, Bill.
You're not in love with me now. And you never have been.
-Hester! -I'm simply a prized possession
that's become more prized for having been stolen.
-What are you saying... -You force me to say these things, Bill!
You think I enjoy hurting you? You, above all people?
And I think perhaps you should go.
We can talk again when we're both calmer.
No. We must talk now.
You say I wasn't in love with you when I married you.
I know you weren't.
Why do you suppose I married you? What else did you have to offer me?
You don't have to remind me what a bad match I was.
I'm not denying that you married for love.
For your idea of love. And so did I.
The trouble seems to be, they weren't the same idea. You see...
I had more to give you, far more than you ever wanted from me.
How can you say that? You know I wanted your love.
No, Bill. You wanted me simply to be a loving wife.
There's all the difference in the world.
Do you imagine I believe that pathetic story just now about a job?
Do you think I don't know exactly how you visualise your future?
You can't let him go, Hester.
You can't.
(INHALING)
Hester, my darling...
What you say about me,
(STUTTERING) and my feelings towards you may be true, but
can't you see that I'm offering you your only chance of life?
Why can't you accept?
It worked quite happily once.
Yes, it did, quite happily.
Well, then...
You see, Bill, I'm no longer the same person.
I think you should go.
(INHALING) But...
I'll be all right.
Oh, you'll still want your divorce, I suppose?
Yes, I think that would be for the best.
Well, there'll be lots to discuss, business things and so on...
Yes, I'm sure there will be.
For the moment, are you all right for money?
Please, Bill.
Well, goodbye, then.
Goodbye.
(DOOR CLOSING)
(DOOR OPENING)
Freddie...
Oh...
-How did you get in? -It's Page, you see, he lent me a key.
He wanted me to pick up his suitcase.
It's got all his washing things in it, apparently,
and says he needs them for tonight.
-Where's he going tonight? -Oh, I don't know.
-Where is he now? -I don't know what the place is called.
-Where is it? -Somewhere in the West End.
-Greek Street. -I don't know.
I see.
-How long have you been with him? -Since nine.
And he can do a lot of talking in three hours, can't he?
-Especially when he's drunk. -He's not drunk.
-At least what he says makes sense. -Does it!
Lady Collyer, may I say something?
Page has been very frank with me. Very frank indeed,
although I didn't invite his confidence.
So I know the whole situation, you see.
And I do know what you must be feeling at this moment.
Do you, Mr Welch?
I've been in love too, you know.
In fact, about a year ago, I nearly had a bust-up in my marriage
over a, sort of, infatuation I had for a girl.
Quite the wrong sort of type really and it would have been disastrous.
But I do know what it means to have to give someone up
whom you think you love.
Look, do you think this is awfully impertinent of me?
No. Not at all.
(INHALING)
Well, I do think that you ought to, sort of, try and steel yourself
to what I'm quite sure is the best course for both of you.
Oh, gosh, I know how hard it is.
But, I do remember, with this girl...
She was an actress, you know,
although she wasn't well known or anything.
I sat down, all alone one day, and said to myself
"Look, on the physical side, she's everything in the world you want.
"On the other side, what is she?" (SCOFFING)
"Nothing."
So, what I did was to write her a letter.
And I went away for a fortnight. All by myself.
Well, of course, I had hell.
But, gradually, things got sort of clearer in my mind.
And then when I got back, I was out of the wood.
-Where did you go? -Lyme Regis.
Pretty spot. I know it well.
Of course, I think, for you, some place like Italy
or the south of France would be better.
Oh, where better than Lyme Regis?
Oh, you know, complete change of atmosphere.
Nice weather. Nobody you know. And lots of time to think things out.
And I know that, if you do think things out honestly,
you'll realise how awfully petty the whole thing really is,
when you get it in perspective.
I mean, without being preachy or anything,
it is really the spiritual values that count in this life, isn't it?
I mean, the physical side is awfully unimportant, objectively speaking.
-Don't you think? -Objectively speaking.
But it's very kind of you, Mr Welch, to give me your advice.
-I'm most grateful. -No, not at all.
I'm just glad you didn't fly at me for it.
You see, Page has been telling about it all
and I was really awfully interested,
because a thing like this,
it throws a sort of light on human nature, really.
Yes, I suppose it does.
Well, may I have the bag now please?
Yes, it's just through that door.
Where did Freddie tell you to take the bag?
To the station or somewhere or just back to the White Angel?
Oh, just back to the White... Oh. Back to where he is.
Would you mind putting that bag down now please and leaving?
I'm afraid I can't do that. I promised I'd bring it to him, you see. Well...
(DOOR LOCKING)
I'm sorry for that melodramatic gesture, Mr Welch,
but I must detain you for a moment or two longer.
There's remains of a bottle of Claret there, if you like.
No, thank you.
(KEYS JANGLING)
No, that key won't help you. It's a separate lock.
Look! I really think you ought to give me that...
Please sit down, Mr Welch!
You have a perfect opportunity of resuming your study of human nature.
Hello, good evening! Yes, could I speak to Mr Page?
Mr Page, yes.
Mrs Jackson.
No, Jackson!
There's an awful lot of noise in there.
Hello, darling. It's Hes.
No scene. I promise, I promise, I promise.
I just wanted to know about the job. Did you see the man?
Oh, good.
How soon?
As soon as that?
No, Freddie. Just hearing you say it like that, that's all.
(RAISES VOICE) I said, it's just hearing you say it like that, that's all.
Listen, your messenger's here for your bag
but you haven't got half of what you need for three days.
Where are you going to be until you go?
Now, let's think. Um...
Well, you've got your flannels.
So, all you really need is your tweed coat.
What do you want done with the rest of your things?
The cloakroom at Charing Cross. Right, I'll get them round there for you.
Freddie, I want you to do one last thing for me before you go.
(SHOUTING) I said, I wanted you to do one last thing for me before you go.
Come and collect your bag yourself. I just want to see you for the last...
I won't... I... I promise I won't.
I'm on my solemn, sacred word of honour.
I won't even speak if you don't want me to. I just want to see you...
(LOUDLY) Well, Freddie, trust me!
Freddie! For pity's sake, trust...
Freddie, don't ring... Freddie, don't ring off!
(HYSTERICALLY) Freddie! Freddie!
Didn't you say something about a tweed coat?
Did I? Oh, yes. It's just behind that door.
Well, goodnight.
Oh, by the way, Mr Welch, your wife seemed a little upset.
Perhaps, you ought to slip up and see her.
I will.
Look, you're all right on your own, aren't you?
I mean, you're not going to do anything silly tonight?
You must've learnt your lesson from last night.
Yes, I've learnt my lesson.
-I'm awfully sorry, really, I am. -Thank you.
I think he ought to have come to fetch his things himself.
So do I.
I mean, after you gave him your solemn, sacred word of honour, just now.
It might add a little to your appreciation
of the spiritual values, Mr Welch,
if I told you I had absolutely no intention
of keeping my solemn, sacred word of honour.
If Freddie had come here tonight, I would have made him stay.
He knew that. That's why he didn't come.
You've got exactly the same expression on your face
as my father would have had.
He believed in spiritual values too, you know.
And the pettiness of the physical side.
Well, take the bag to Freddie. Have you got enough money for a taxi?
Yes, thank you.
(COIN DROPS)
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
(MELACHOLIC CLASSICAL PIANO MUSIC PLAYING ON RADIO)
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
-Who is it? -Miller.
Well, what do you want? I'm just going to bed.
I want to see you.
Well, can't it wait till the morning?
No.
Afraid to be disturbed?
I usually lock my door at night.
It's lucky you didn't last night.
I was just going to take your pills.
So I see.
Well, do you think they're strong enough, Doctor?
Couldn't you let me have one or two more, in case they don't work?
-(GAS HISSING) -I said, couldn't you
let me have one or two more in case they don't work?
I heard you.
-The answer is no. -Why?
I've had enough problems with the police.
-The pills, please. -Why?
If you put a rug before the door, it's better to do it in the dark.
Why are you spying on me? Why don't you leave me alone.
I'm not trying to decide for you whether you live or die.
-Then leave me alone! -The choice is yours.
You have quite enough courage to make it for yourself.
I know that after tonight, I cannot face life.
I cannot live without hope.
Then you must learn.
Without hope, there is also no despair.
Oh! Those are just words.
Your Freddie has left you.
He's never going to come back again.
Never in a hundred years.
Never.
Never!
I know.
I know. That's what I can't face.
Face it and you can face life.
(SOBBING)
(SNIFFLING)
Thank you.
(SNIFFING)
You were 17 when you painted that?
-(SOFTLY) Yes. -It's beautiful.
I'd like to buy it.
Oh! It's a gift.
No, no, no. I must... I must pay.
We will talk tomorrow.
Good night?
Good night, Doctor.
Not, "Doctor", please.
Good night, my friend.
I wish you meant that.
Maybe my need for a friend is as great as yours.
What makes you so sure I don't mean that?
Hello.
(MUSIC PLAYING ON RADIO IN HALLWAY)
(CLEARS THROAT)
-Did I interrupt something? -No.
Seems quite a good bloke old Miller.
Yes, he does. Have you come for your bag?
-Yes. -The boy took it with him.
Oh! Well, he'll leave it at the Angels. I'll get it all right.
Well, come in, Freddie. Don't stand in the door.
(TURNING OFF RADIO)
(RADIO IN HALLWAY PLAYING In The Mood)
-How are you feeling? -All right.
Thank you for coming.
That's all right. Shouldn't have sent the chap anyway, I suppose.
-Had any food? -Yes, I had a bite at the Belvedere.
-How about you? -Oh, I'll get something later.
When exactly are you off to Rio?
-Thursday. But, I told you. -Oh, yes, of course.
By boat, wasn't it?
-Uh, no. Flying. -Oh, yes, of course.
By the Azores?
No. London, West Africa, then across to Natal.
-Sounds exciting. -Ah, I don't know.
By the way, about the rent.
Those golf clubs will fetch 30 or 40 quid.
It should take care of Old Ma Elton, a few odd bills.
-Won't you need them? -No. I can't fly them.
Well, I'll get the rest of your things round to Charing Cross in the morning.
There's no hurry.
What are you going to do, Hes?
Well, I'll probably stay here for a bit.
Dropped a note in at Bill's, he should be around.
He's been round.
-Oh! You... -No.
-Sorry. -It's all right. Wouldn't have worked.
No, I suppose not. (CLEARING THROAT) Well, I didn't know.
So, you...you'll carry on with your painting, will you?
Yes. As a matter of fact, I thought of going to art school.
Starting from the beginning.
It's a good idea. It's never too late to begin again, isn't that what they say?
Yes, they do.
Goodbye, Freddie.
Bye, Hes.
Thank you for everything.
Thank you, too.
I'm going to miss you, Hes.
Goodbye.
(DOOR CLOSING)
( Roll Out The Barrel PLAYING ON RADIO)
(EXHALING)
(MUSIC CONTINUES PLAYING)