(WIND AND RAIN)
I'll kill the little bitch.
MALE SINGER: ♪ When I close my eyes
♪ I get butterflies
♪ And it seems to me
♪ That time suspends
♪ My troubles end
♪ Because we're just secret friends
♪ When I close my eyes
♪ It's no surprise
♪ You see, my darling
♪ That it all depends
♪ On what love sends
♪ Because we're just secret friends ♪
(CONTINUES SINGING WORDLESSLY)
VICAR: How far...
Think how far this little wild flower has wandered, John.
How very far.
And through how many centuries.
Across what deserts, what scrub.
What emptiness of spirit.
(SLOW JAZZ NUMBER PLAYING)
(MUSIC MUFFLED)
OTHER JOHN: John.
- Remember me? - (SUDDEN TRAIN HORN)
John.
Remember me?
John...
JOHN: I remember.
What have I done?
Oh, what have I done?
(MUSIC LIVELIER)
Stop it!
Stop it. Turn it off.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!
You bitch.
You filthy little...
bitch!
HELEN: You like my body?
You want my body?
(EXHALING SHARPLY)
You want business?
Whatever else you may care to give me
is a personal transaction
between you and me.
JOHN: Oh, save me.
Protect me.
Protect.
Oh, fish. Poor fish.
Tell me, please. What have I done?
Oh, what have I done?
(LANGUID JAZZ PLAYING)
(AUDIBLY SWALLOWING)
(INHALING SHARPLY)
(MUSIC STOPS)
(KNOCKING)
John?
No!
John, I'm sorry, but...
John, we have to talk.
You've been playing that music again.
John, we have to talk.
You've been playing that music loudly,
and you've no right to do that.
- Oh, for goodness' sake. - Loudly!
Loudly, as though the whole world were bedlam.
Press your painted finger on the "off" button.
- Do you hear? - I was only...
For Christ's sake, John. What's wrong with you?
Helen, what have we agreed?
You shouldn't thrust your way up into here without any warning.
- HELEN: Look, I just want to... - JOHN: My hand jerks. I lose the line!
I'm on the finest of silver hairs at this precise moment.
Well, I'm sorry, but...
First of all, you play that music so sodding loud
that I can't hear myself think.
And then you clamber your way up into here,
without the slightest warning, just when...
Just...
This is difficult work.
It is very fine!
It is very...
HELEN: John, I'm sorry.
- Lady's Mantle! - What?
JOHN: You've spoilt
my Lady's Mantle.
John, why do you speak in that way?
Do you know that...
Do you know what they used to use it for?
The simple country folk of...
oh, not so long ago?
John, we've got to talk.
Will you listen to me? Will you listen to yourself?
Things are getting out of proportion.
Do you know?
HELEN: John, don't look at me like this.
JOHN: Boobs.
- (TRAIN HORN) - HELEN: What?
JOHN: Tits.
A considerable asset in the profession you used to adorn.
HELEN: No.
No, not that. Not again!
An infusion of the flower head was alleged to be a means of...
to be a means...
of restoring the upthrust of the female breast.
The bounce.
Or, as I would have once preferred to think of it,
in specific reference to you, Helen...
their joyous...
heartbreaking...
lift.
- Say it. - HELEN: No!
JOHN: Go on, say it!
- John, this is sick! - Please, please...
please...
Whatever else...
HELEN: Whatever else you may care to give me...
is a personal transaction between you and me.
(COUGHING)
(LIFT PINGING)
Please don't start this, John. You know it's a total fantasy.
It's got out of hand.
It's gone too far.
- 816... - (LIFT PINGING)
JOHN: It seemed miraculous to me
that not one of the uncountable numbers of men
who'd enjoyed themselves here on this, had spoilt it.
HELEN: What have we done to ourselves?
And why?
Why?!
(TRAIN CLATTERING)
My love.
My poor little love.
(TRAIN HORN)
My sweet... dream of a song.
(LANGUID JAZZ PLAYING)
I'm very sorry. Will you forgive?
I suppose you must have known very well
that someone was looking at you.
Through one of those peep-hole things in the door.
Sorry?
816. Room 816.
816?
We had an arrangement.
I looked at you, standing there.
And I lost my nerve.
I simply could not, not open the door.
Yes?
- Well, that's all very well, but... - You looked so much more beautiful.
And so much more vulnerable than I'd expected.
As though...
(CHUCKLING) and this is my own indulgence.
But,
as though you had a secret little tune in your head,
and I think I know which one.
What?
(CHUCKLING) Well, I looked, and I looked,
and I heard my heart beating
somewhere beneath the blue ribbons
of sound.
The saxophone under.
(BIRD CAWING)
- (MUSIC STOPS) - The music suddenly stopped.
Do you want me to come back to your room?
(LIFT PINGING)
No, I do not.
Well, that's all very well, but an arrangement had been...
I'm not going to waste my time...
I don't want to let you down, of course.
Please don't worry about that.
♪ When I close my eyes
♪ I get butterflies
♪ And it seems to me
♪ That time suspends
♪ My troubles end
♪ Because we're just secret friends ♪
- As in an old film. - What?
The old films.
Which old films?
- Any old film. - Sorry?
When the couple we love,
who make their entrance...
SINGER: ♪ When I close my eyes
♪ It's no surprise
♪ You see, my darling
♪ That it all depends
♪ On what love sends
♪ Because we're just secret friends ♪
PA: Paging Miss Fiona Marshall.
Telephone call at reception for Miss Fiona Marshall, thank you.
JOHN: Leave me alone.
(HEAVY BLOW)
Keep your eyes off me.
Leave me alone.
(BIRD CAWING)
(CREAKING)
Mmm.
(EXHALING)
(LIFT PINGING)
- Are you here on...? - You are beautiful.
- Thank you. - (LIFT PINGING)
Are you here on a business trip, or is this a vacation?
Don't.
- What? - Please, no.
(LIFT PINGING)
I don't want you to give me a standardly sweet smile
and a standardly innocuous first question.
Be yourself.
You have to give me fifty pounds for the agency.
(LIFT PINGING)
And whatever else you may care to give me
is a personal transaction
between you and me.
There's no hurry, is there?
It takes time to find out about each other.
What do you mean?
I mean,
I don't see this ending right here and now.
Tonight, or tomorrow.
Or anything like that.
- (TRAIN HORN) - I have plans for you.
(TRAIN CLATTERING)
Sit still, John.
VICAR: How many times have you passed by an unremarkable hedge
by the boundary of a perfectly ordinary field,
perhaps full of your everyday concerns,
your eyes scarcely able to see what is to be seen
in even the humblest corner of the Lord God's loving Creation.
Sit still, John.
VICAR: How many times,
in the course of a day spent out in the fresh air,
whether in honest toil, or healthy exercise,
how often have you had occasion to see,
perhaps without a thought, the bright
yellow flowers of tanacetum vulgare?
And what, I can hear you ask,
is that, when it is at home?
Tanacetum vulgare,
as our good friends the botanists would call it,
is better known to us as...?
MOTHER: John, sit still.
VICAR: No, no, he is attentive.
I wonder, John, if you happen to know what it is in its, um...
shall I say everyday dress, hmm?
I only ask because I happened to mention it to you
on our jolly little walk
the other day.
Try, John.
(CHURCH BELL TOLLING)
VICAR: The answer is not up there, now is it?
I doubt very much whether you'll find it
- written on the ceiling, my lad... - YOUNG JOHN: Please God,
oh, please, please, God,
tell me the answer.
OTHER YOUNG JOHN: Take no notice, bugger him!
And his bloody flower!
MOTHER: Try, John.
VICAR: All right, all right, a clue.
I will give you a clue, my boy.
Small yellow flowers.
in a cluster.
And the flower, flat on top,
in what we call a disc shape.
Hmm?
Yes, Father.
(BIRD CAWING)
Yes, Daddy.
Sanctimonious bastard!
VICAR: And if that doesn't give it away,
may I ask you to address yourself to the smell.
Hmm?
OTHER YOUNG JOHN: It's full of snot and bogeys,
it's full of hairs and snot!
F-f-f-f-fee-fee...
feverfew?
VICAR: Feverfew is basically white.
Feverfew is a white flower!
I'm sorry, Father.
VICAR: Tansy!
The name is Tansy.
Yes, Father. Tansy.
I remember now.
VICAR: I think, John,
that you hardly deserve to share the supper table with us this evening.
Perhaps it would be best, when you've heard
and, I hope, inwardly digested the rest of this little piece,
if you were to take yourself off to your bed, my boy.
Yes, Father.
I will be up later to admonish you.
Yes, Father.
I don't want you to think of me
as an unreasonable person, John.
I want you to ask yourself
whether it is fair,
whether it is just.
Now wouldn't you say that it was?
- OTHER YOUNG JOHN: No! - VICAR: Hmm?
Yes, Father.
(BIRDSONG)
816.
(LIFT PINGING)
816.
(PENCILS RATTLING)
816.
81... 6.
(COUGHING)
816, 816.
Index number 816.
(LIFT PINGING)
(DISTANT TRAIN)
"Kill her!"
Kill who?
(TRAIN GETTING LOUDER)
(TRAIN HORN)
BUSINESSMAN #1:...if you're trying to tell me to use earnings per share...
JOHN: Oh, save us. Oh, protect me. What have I done? Oh, what have I...
BUSINESSMAN #2: Which is what they all want, and...
BUSINESSMAN #1: I said, I said,
then you've placed yourself at the mercy
of easily manipulated quantities.
BUSINESSMAN #2: Absolutely.
(BOTH CHUCKLING)
BUSINESSMAN #1: They call it...
"creative accounting". All those little shits, you know,
with briefcases that you can only open if you...
JOHN: Excuse...
Sorry?
JOHN: Help. Help.
Can you please tell me,
I mean, um... I mean...
Am I, by any chance...
with you?
Are we...?
Oh, Christ!
Are we travelling together?
On the same train, do you mean?
What is it? Are you feeling unwell?
I was looking out of the window here.
Um...
Yes?
You were looking out of the...
And when I turned my head away,
I realised that I didn't know where I was.
I mean, why I was here.
Sitting here with... with this...
this dead fish in front of me.
Or where I've been.
Or where I was going.
Or who I am!
I don't know who I am!
(LANGUID JAZZ PLAYING)
♪ I find the things you do
♪ When I'm thinking of you
♪ You're just so irresistible
♪ I'm afflicted and addicted by
♪ The things you do
♪ When I'm dreaming of you
♪ You're just so unpredictable
♪ I'm afflicted and addicted by
♪ The things you do... ♪
(CONTINUES SINGING WORDLESSLY)
♪ I find the things you... ♪
I don't think I like this tune very much.
It reminds me of something I don't want to know.
HELEN: Yeah?
Once upon a time,
I wanted to be a great artist.
Con artist, do you mean?
- (LIFT PINGING) - I meant it.
I'm afraid I mean what I'm saying.
If not great, then at least a considerable one.
Not just accomplished, you understand.
Mere skill would not do.
It'll do for starters.
JOHN: But I'm not good enough.
I'm not quite up to it.
What a shame.
It was a pity while it remained a disappointment.
What is your disappointment in life?
Your major one, I mean, if I may ask?
Too big a traffic area through my bedroom.
(LIFT PINGING)
(CHUCKLING) Er, no, seriously, tell me.
What are you really disappointed about?
- I mean, what...? - How many fingers have you got?
- Sorry? - Because I've lost count.
All right, I'll play along.
- Like, um... - (LIFT PINGING)
not being able to play a musical instrument.
How'll that do?
- Which? - Sorry?
- Which musical instrument? - Comb and paper.
TRAIN PA: Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.
The bar and buffet situated in the middle of the train is now open.
Selling teas, coffees, drinks, hot and cold snacks.
Bar and buffet is now open, thank you.
HELEN: Oh, I don't know.
Not getting more than three O-Levels, I suppose.
I hadn't worked, though.
But I thought I was worth more.
JOHN: Which?
- Sorry? - Which three?
English Language,
English Literature,
and French.
Good, good. Language orientated.
- And the French was for... - And you didn't want to go on with it?
School, A-Levels, college, all that?
No, I...
What are we talking about? I'm not a social worker, you know.
- Where did you go to school? - In England.
A school for girls, presumably.
Or perhaps I should say "young ladies".
I'm not going to talk about school, or anything else,
until I know I'm not wasting my time.
- (LIFT PINGING) - Got it?
- Ah, a private school, I should imagine. - I mean...
do you want
good old straight up-and-down intercourse,
or, um...
do you have any specialities in mind?
(CRUNCHING)
Do you want oral?
Or a good smacking?
That's one of the things that's wrong with England.
What?
A question about schooldays is seen as something very dangerous.
A weapon.
A hidden pointer to something else. Well, maybe it is.
Go on, eat your crisp.
- What? - Eat your crisp.
- (LIFT PINGING) - Thank you.
PA: This is a staff announcement.
Would the duty banqueting manager please contact Reception.
JOHN: Do you normally speak like that?
I mean, as grossly as just now.
HELEN: You reminded me of someone else.
Asking all that stuff about school,
and all that shit.
I mean, in your real life.
My real life?
Your private life.
When you're not out on a job like this,
do you use gutter language there, too?
What sort of hypocrite are you?
A mealy-mouthed one.
What are we talking about?
A life.
Is... is this...
is this some kind of a joke?
I know, I know, I'm upsetting you.
I'm putting it all very badly.
But no, it's not a joke.
I want you, and...
Then you pay for me.
We all pay for each other.
And we all pay for what we are.
All the time.
(SULTRY VOICE) I don't know about that, Joe,
but you pay for me.
And you pay by the hour.
(LIFT PINGING)
JOHN: Is there something you want?
BUSINESSMAN #1: Sorry?
You seem more interested in what is going on over here
than in your own affairs.
No, that's not it at all.
Would you please be good enough
to drag your hot eyes away from my young lady?
BUSINESSMAN #1: Hey now, there's no call for that.
Your what?
Or do you want to come and sit with us?
Your young lady?
JOHN: Money, you want to talk about money.
Fine. I don't think that's going to be any special problem.
How much?
Look, you don't have to talk so...
(LOUDLY) This is our business, nobody else's.
Now, let's talk about exactly how much you would like.
And what, precisely, you are willing to do...
to get it.
Yuck!
JOHN: Helen? Where are you?
(QUIETLY) I don't know.
- Helen, where are you? - Kitchen!
Helen, answer me. Where the hell are you?
I'm in the kitchen!
- John? - (LOFT HATCH CLOSING)
What do you want?
Why are you shouting?
John?
(THUMPING)
It's what we are,
surely?
Not what we do.
- Isn't that right, Helen? - John?
What are you...?
What's the matter?
(CHURCH BELL TOLLING)
Helen...
help me.
No!
John!
What's happening?
What's happened?
We all have to...
we all...
But John?
What's the...?
- Are you feeling ill, or has...? - III.
You look as though you've seen a ghost.
For goodness' sake, what is all this?
A ghost?
They were wrong!
What do you mean, a ghost?
VICAR: They were wrong!
John, for Christ's sake!
Weren't you taught that it is rude to shout?
And offensive to blaspheme?
What?
Screw you!
JOHN: And screw you, too.
A more general invitation.
And one that you are certainly used to.
Hello.
- (HESITANTLY) Hello? - Do you want business?
I'm sorry, do you know me?
Do I want what?
A fuck, or a suck?
Anything you fancy.
A what?!
Do I want a what?
Hey!
Changed your mind?
This is not right.
But I thought you wanted it this way.
Come on.
Fuck me, darling!
This cannot be the correct way to behave.
Oh, you're just a dickhead!
(BIRD CAWING)
Where are you?
Where have you gone?
(EXHALING SHARPLY)
(GASPING)
- John... - What about it?
John, you flinched.
I, um, I...
You can't bear me to touch you.
You know the Stoners and Angela are coming to dinner, don't you?
I suppose you've no objection to touching Angela?
- What do you mean? - You think I don't know.
Something did happen, didn't it?
Between you two.
I thought we'd always tell each other the truth, John.
I thought we'd agreed to do that, no matter what.
- What is truth? - What?
- Pontius Pilate. - Angela.
- What about her? - The... bitch!
You don't think I, er...
It was... it...
Oh, you don't understand.
Oh, but I do.
What are you so...
paranoid about?
God Almighty!
Nothing has happened, nothing whatsoever.
Something's certainly happened between us, that's for sure.
Is that it, John?
Is that what all of this is about?
You can't bear me to touch you.
I live and breathe you.
And when you're not there, I feel myself
being dragged deeper and deeper and...
The smile's gone out of your eyes, John.
The smile that was for me.
(SOBBING)
That lovely, gentle smile.
It's not there anymore.
(DISTANT TRAIN)
JOHN: I don't know what you're talking about.
(JOHN SOBBING)
(LOUD WAILING)
Steady. Steady now.
I don't know... I don't...
I can't... seem to...
BUSINESSMAN #2: Now, now, old chap.
Anything wrong here, gents? Everything all right?
Ev... everything is... everything is...
coming up roses.
Well, I hope it's nothing that's been brought on by the food, sir.
- For God's sake! - It's my job, sir.
Can't you see that this man is not well?
I can see that very well, sir. And it's my job to see
there's nothing amiss with...
what was it the gentleman had?
The fish, yes?
Fish?
Sole, sir.
And you'd have done better with the steak.
I have lost my memory.
You've done what, sir?
I do not know who I am!
Would you like me to get you something else, sir?
BUSINESSMAN #1: Like what! Like what?
The gentlemen seemed to appreciate the steak.
I'm sorry about all the fuss.
It was a... well, it was a shock, and I felt very upset.
- (SIGHING) - (COUGHING)
But I understand what is happening now.
In the circumstances, it might be advisable
for me to have a hot drink.
Perhaps you'd be kind enough to bring me, er... some coffee?
Certainly, sir.
And to take my...
fish away. Oh, right away, sir.
So...
what are we going to do about you, eh?
(IN UNISON) Hmm?
(CHATTERING)
(WOMEN LAUGHING)
MARTIN: Oh, no. Not just the little boys.
Christ, no. The little girls could be unspeakably tough, too.
One little bitch threatened to strangle me, honestly.
(LAUGHING)
Genghis Khan in red hair ribbons and navy blue knickers.
Good for her!
Violence is usually the other way round.
Boys to girls.
And men to women.
The only thing a seven-year-old boy
who didn't like rough games could do
was to skulk off on my own.
with a secret friend.
You know, a made-up one.
Oh, I had one of those, Martin.
A secret friend. Oh, yes!
Imaginary chums are so much braver
and more interesting than real ones.
And imaginary mistresses.
So much more erotic, eh, Angela? Mmm?
(MARTIN CHUCKLING)
Imaginary, Martin?
(LIFT PINGING)
(HOWLING WIND)
- (TRAIN HORN) - (TRAIN CLATTERING)
KATE: My problem always used to be
how to find a space where I could be on my own.
Damned if I was going to make up pretend friends,
when I spent so much time trying to get away from the real ones.
ANGELA: But you had brothers and sisters.
So?
I was an only child, Kate.
And there were no children next door, either.
HELEN: John?
I thought at first it was the cat.
Er... what was?
JOHN: We had a cat called Toby.
The colour of ashes in the grate after a fire had been kept in all night.
Um... what exactly are we talking about?
There weren't so many new buildings around this house
when it used to be the vicarage.
I was marooned here as a boy.
Scruffy little village.
The church, not much else.
When I was a boy...
in the winter-time...
My God!
A cold, old house this.
I used to see the lighted trains go by in the distance.
They looked like ribbons.
Illuminated.
Glowing,
with all the mystery and yearning of...
travel.
(SCREAMING)
And this was the sort of place
you would very much want to get away from.
(DISTANT TRAIN)
Oh, those trains.
(TRAIN WHISTLE)
Those ribbons of light.
That ache...
of promise.
ANGELA: Those men with the little notebooks
at the end of the platform, taking down
train numbers. They're so weird and earnest.
You feel they're doing that
because they've never taken down anything else.
(LAUGHING)
I used to talk to the cat.
He knew what I was saying.
And what I was thinking.
Or so I thought.
But it gradually dawned on me that that was not the case.
Congratulations.
Ssssh!
JOHN: The cat walked out of the room once too often,
with his tail in the air,
showing the little round button of his arse.
I had to find another friend.
A more reliable one.
Oh, back to that, are we?
The secret friend.
We never left it.
JOHN: He came to me out of nothing, and out of nowhere.
Walking across the flat fields, and over the thorny hedges.
(MATCH BEING STRUCK)
It's a wonder he ever found me.
(DISTANT TRAIN)
(TRAIN WHISTLE)
Oh, please don't come up, Father.
Don't come up.
"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy..."
Are you there? Hey?
"Hallowed be thy name.
"Thy kingdom come,
"thy will be..."
Where are you? Hey?
Where have you gone?
"Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven.
"Give us this day our daily bread.
"And lead us not into tempt..." - OTHER YOUNG JOHN: Don't worry, John.
Don't worry.
I'm with you.
I thought you'd gone, John.
What, me?
Not on your nelly.
He's going to give me the strap.
Why don't you tell him to shove it up his...
(GIGGLING) arse?
Ssssh.
"Give us this day our daily bread,
"and lead us not into temptation.
- "Forgive us our trespasses..." - Listen to this!
- What? - (BLOWING RASPBERRY)
How about this, John?
(FARTING)
Listen to this one.
(MORE ELABORATE FART)
Oh, John, John!
Oh John, you are naughty.
(MULTIPLE FARTING SOUNDS)
(FOOTSTEPS)
(CREAKING)
He came everywhere with me.
I couldn't have shaken him off even...
even if I'd wanted to.
John...?
What are you doing over there?
I tried it once, just to see what would happen.
(GRUNTING)
I ran...
as fast as I could. And...
when I had to stop... (PANTING)
out of breath...
he was there, too.
(EXHALING HEAVILY)
What?
Oh.
Yes.
Sorry.
Okay.
Okay, I'm talking like...
Well, you're giving me a headache.
Mmm, this aniseedy sort of...
fennel.
You know, I've been eating it, Helen, and not knowing what it was.
You are clever.
Accident, not design.
JOHN: He ran where I ran.
He walked where I walked.
He sat next to me at table.
And he...
he put the same...
food...
in his mouth...
and he...
swallowed it down...
(AUDIBLY SWALLOWING)
at the same time as I did.
This make-believe chum of yours.
- Did he have a name, John? - (TRAIN PASSING)
Look in your wallet.
- Turn out your pockets. - Examine your things.
Oh, yes, yes. Of course.
Thank you very much.
Pig.
What?!
Pigskin.
Well... it's not cheap stuff.
Isn't that reassuring?
- You'd better look inside. - BUSINESSMAN #1: Yes, yes, look.
JOHN: Leave me alone.
Skin.
Unrolled from the back of a slaughtered pig.
Of what account are its helpless screams?
Well, open it up, then.
Phew!
You're not short of a penny or two, are you?
What'd you do, rob a bank? (CHUCKLING)
Perhaps.
I've no idea what I've done.
(SIREN)
Credit cards.
Look for credit cards. They'll have your name on.
Driving licence, membership card, anything like that.
No, no, no, credit cards.
Look, they'll have your name on.
JOHN: What can I do?
Where can I go?
Where can I stay?
I don't even know what day of the week it is.
- Thursday. - What?
It's a Thursday... I think.
(INTERIOR MONOLOGUE) Find library, reference, look it up.
"Amnesia."
Safer than going to some quack or walking into a...
Police! No!
Expose myself!
Money. All this money.
BUSINESSMAN #1: It's a lot to be carrying around.
Especially nowadays.
You'll have to keep both eyes open.
BUSINESSMAN #2: No driving licence?
BUSINESSMAN #1: Not even a credit card?
Just...
money.
(AUDIBLE SCRATCHING)
(HEAVY BLOW)
Solitary.
Let me be solitary.
BUSINESSMAN #2: Can you really remember nothing?
Nothing at all?
Get hold of any one recollection, and...
follow the thread of it. Let me see.
You were already on the train when we got on.
- Sitting here. - That was Swindon.
So you must have travelled from, er...
BUSINESSMAN #2: Bristol Parkway, Newport,
Cardiff, or...
one of those other places in Wales.
You don't sound Welsh, if I may say so.
Bet that's a relief, eh?
What does your ticket say?
Oh no, they've been collected. You haven't got a ticket.
If you'd have had a return,
you'd have known where you'd started from.
Unless he came from London, and he's going back.
London?
BUSINESSMAN #1: That's where the train's going.
London!
You don't seem to have any keys on you.
Do you have any keys?
I said... excuse me, I said, do you have any keys?
816, 816, 816...
816.
(PHONE RINGING)
John?
Oh, Martin.
- (CHUCKLING) - Hello.
Oh, I'm very used to beautiful young ladies
sounding devastated when they hear my voice.
I wondered if I could have a word with the master of the house?
I'm rocketing homeward on the bloody train,
but I presume he's still bent over his bloody daubs?
- Doesn't want to be disturbed, eh? - You can't, Martin.
He's gone to London.
He's...
I... I can't tell you exactly where he is.
I mean...
he's obviously decided to stay over for a...
- He's seeing a publisher. - What's wrong, Helen?
You sound down in the dumps.
Lovely ladies should never be sad, tra-la.
I've got some news that might cheer up your miserable sod of a hubby.
At least, it's about
the house.
The house?
- What house? - Well, the market's flat.
In fact, it's on the down escalator.
But I told him I wouldn't have to look very far down the Edgware Road
to find a camel herder with cash in hand.
And, clever old me, I think I've already come up with...
- This house? - What?
Yes, your house.
What are you talking about?
What do you mean, what am I talking about?
John said he wanted to... to, um...
That you were moving away...
- I'm sorry, Helen, have I...? - (HANGING UP)
Moving away.
(BEEPING)
- (RINGING) - Helen...
- Did you hang... - Yes, I did!
(BEEPING)
Screw you!
I might even do that.
(BIRD CAWING)
Ah, the country diary of an Edwardian lady.
Lie on your back and think of weed killer?
Hello, Angela.
Oh dear, what's the matter?
Nothing, really.
When people say "nothing, really"
haven't you noticed, they usually mean "yes, something"?
Is it John?
HELEN: Something did happen, didn't it?
Between you two.
No credit cards, no keys, no luggage.
No head on my shoulders.
RECEPTIONIST: These things are sent to try us, aren't they?
Yes.
But why me?
So, how many nights, sir?
- Well, since my wife is not at, er... - How many nights?
- My wife is... - How many nights?
How many nights?
Nights?
How...
many...
How many...
nights?
How many... nights?
How... many... nights?
How many nights?
Um...
just tonight.
Or...
I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you
for a hundred and eighty pounds in advance.
Yes, of course you must.
(LIFT PINGING)
- (EXHALING SHARPLY) - (LIFT PINGING)
(SIGHING)
RECEPTIONIST: How many nights?
- How many nights? - (LIFT PINGING RAPIDLY)
How many nights?
Nights...?
How... many...
Don't... panic...
- Don't... don't... don't... - (PINGING SLOWING DOWN)
don't panic.
Don't panic, don't panic.
Don't... don't.
Don't panic.
- Don't... don't... - (LIFT WHIRRING)
- (LIFT PINGING) - Don't...
(LIFT DOOR OPENING)
Do you mean there's someone else?
(GIGGLING)
You tell me.
No, no, I'm not saying it's funny. It's just...
it's just that question.
- What question? - Well, I mean,
it's the one they always used to say in the serials.
The soaps, you know. "Do you mean there's someone else?"
It's the way it comes out.
- Know what I mean? - Yes, absolutely.
(DOG BARKING OUTSIDE)
I like drinking.
At this sort of time.
Oh, there's some cheese if you'd like.
No, no, booze is better.
In some ways it would be better if there were.
- Sorry? - Somebody else.
(ANGELA CHUCKLING)
You don't mean that.
But I honestly don't think he's capable of it.
- First man in history. - Oh...
John was always a bit of a...
puritan.
No wonder.
Living in this weird old house with a slap-the-pulpit father,
and a timid mother with a cleft palate.
- Really? - Oh, I thought you knew.
John's talked to you a lot.
Hasn't he?
Well, yes, but, um...
When you say he's a "puritan", John...
Do you mean that, um...
Well, he... he sort of...
- sort of... - Doesn't like it all that much.
Lots of men don't, you know.
They like the idea of it, the little piggies,
but their ideas are too big for their...
Fantasies?
Well, yes, if you want to put it that way.
Fantasies?
They can be very powerful, and...
unsettling.
How do you mean?
Well...
Come on.
Between us?
Between us.
I...
No.
I'm not drunk enough.
I suppose you noticed at dinner here, the other week, Martin Stoner.
And you?
The bloody fool!
Kate's bound to have picked it up,
the way he was simpering at me across the table.
Well, it was a bit obvious.
Now, there's your classic fantasist, Martin is.
Oh, these older men.
Wants to screw in the back of a car,
because he never did it like that as a teenager.
And never mind my head bumping against the bloody door.
Why do you do it?
Boredom, darling.
(LAUGHING)
Oh...
Come on, my girl.
- What ails thee? - (LIFT DOOR CLOSING)
HELEN: Index number 816.
Ah!
I see.
ANGELA: Well, that's not so.
I mean, it's only in the head, isn't it?
I don't mean to laugh, but...
but, well, when you think about it, I mean...
sex is funny, isn't it?
A bloody hoot!
(INHALING SHARPLY)
HELEN: It's as though he's convinced himself that I really was...
really, really was what he's made me pretend to be.
(BREATHING RAPIDLY)
(GRUNTING)
Do it!
(CHURCH BELL TOLLING)
Do it!
Sometimes, it gets so bad, I sort of half think he's right.
I mean, I catch myself thinking the same way as he thinks,
and persuading myself that I'm...
like that.
- Bloody hell. - I have to tap, tap, tap the door.
Our own bedroom door.
All drenched in perfume, and dressed like a...
Tap, tap on the door.
And say...
(SULTRY VOICE) "Hello!"
Like that.
- "Hello"? - Like that.
"Whatever else you may care to give me
"is a personal transaction between you and me."
Christ!
What are you looking at me like that for?
I don't suppose he made you pretend to be a whore, did he?
- What? - Because you already are one!
(CHURCH BELLS JANGLING)
(UPBEAT JAZZ TUNE)
(THUMPING)
Sit still, John.
Sit still!
Oh, oh, I see, it's a wild flower.
Oh, such a pretty bloom.
And what do we do with a pretty flower, my boy?
We pluck it!
Who is she?
Who?
Who, who is she?
Who?
Filth.
Everywhere.
Filth!
Filth.
(UPBEAT JAZZ NUMBER)
- (MUSIC STOPS) - A fuck or a suck?
(CHURCH BELL TOLLING)
Anything you fancy.
Do you want business?
(CAR DRIVING UP)
(CAR ENGINE STOPPING)
(DOORBELL RINGING)
♪ Gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone
- ♪ Gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone ♪ - (DOORBELL RINGING)
♪ Gone, gone, gone, gone, gone... ♪
(CHURCH BELLS PEALING)
(BIRDS CAWING)
♪ Gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone... ♪ and so is she.
The bitch, the rotten bitch is gone, gone, gone...
HELEN: Do you want business?
I'm sorry if I, er...
I mean, er... I didn't mean to spy on you or anything like that.
It's, um... a kind of a yoga.
Um... what do you call it? A mantra.
Oh yes, of course, er...
- Help you think, isn't that it? - Lose yourself.
In a way.
I was hoping John would be back by now.
No.
He isn't.
- Helen, when I telephoned just a... - No.
He isn't.
Helen, there's something wrong, isn't there?
I don't want to poke my nose in, but, er...
Helen, you didn't seem to know that John has asked me
to put this house on the market.
HELEN: No.
I didn't.
I wouldn't have dreamed of saying anything about it.
John is bound to talk it over with you, and...
(DOOR CLOSING)
HELEN: He's not coming back.
He's gone.
He's left me.
Left you?
I can't believe it.
It's me.
It's my fault.
He despises me.
I was too much for him in the end.
The dirt just choked in his throat.
It was too...
much.
- What was? - Yesterday was.
My past was.
What I...
used to be.
And I...
was very...
very...
good at it.
Big soft bed.
Long hard fuck.
Christ, it's, er...
Helen. (CHUCKLING)
It's not fair on a fellow, you know,
to sit, er... the way you're sitting.
The past is one thing you can do nothing about.
I'm sick of trying to push it away from me.
I'm sick of pretending.
I don't know what you're...
You poor thing.
You wouldn't say that if you knew the truth.
I've brought it all on myself.
It's my own fault.
I haven't always been Helen.
I called myself something else.
I did things you'd never even dream.
Listen to me!
Oh, you lucky devil!
You dirty devil!
I am. You dirty bitch! Say you are! Say you are!
I'm a dirty bitch!
I'm a whore!
Don't stop.
Don't stop, don't slow down.
Don't stop!
(MARTIN YELLING)
Filth!
(KNOCKING)
(LIFT PINGING)
(BREATHING HEAVILY)
(PANTING)
JOHN: She's a whore!
Kill her!
Who?
Where?
What?!
(PROLONGED BUZZING)
(BUZZING INTENSIFIES)
(BUZZING STOPS)
Don't worry about it.
Trust me.
(BUZZING)
- (BUZZING STOPS) - Go and lie down.
Don't be silly.
Go on.
(BUZZING)
(BUZZING STOPS)
There's something you have to do.
Remember?
Something I have to do.
Something!
(CHURCH BELL TOLLING)
So far as I can recall, there are more than...
two thousand different kinds of wild flower,
which might properly be considered as native to this country.
Ha ha! And we've only done five per cent of them.
But then a hundred of these are enough for a publisher.
They're all dickheads anyway.
Let's see what they make of it, anyway.
Lady's Mantle.
Woodlands Flush.
Deadly Nightshade, eh?
All in here.
All safe.
Be good.
And if you can't be good, well...
(LAUGHING)
be yourself.
(EXHALING SHARPLY)
(DOOR CLOSING)
No.
It can not be!
It cannot... cannot...
can not be!
(DISTANT TRAIN)
Best thing you could do would be to talk to the police.
Go to a police station as soon as we arrive.
JOHN: Police?
No.
Stay clear.
No police.
BUSINESSMAN #1: They're supposed to be the professionals, after all.
They must have some idea what to do.
If you report yourself as a...
(IN UNISON) missing person.
- (DOG BARKING) - (SIREN)
(GROANING)
(UPBEAT JAZZ NUMBER PLAYING)
(MAN YELLING)
- (MUSIC STOPS) - (MUFFLED ROARING)
Did he have a name, John?
And imaginary mistresses?
So much more erotic, eh?
- John? - No!
No, no!
No!
Fornicators!
(UPBEAT JAZZ NUMBER PLAYING)
Come on.
Come on, then. Go to her.
Eh?
Carry on screwing, eh?
Eh? In privacy.
(CHUCKLING)
Privacy.
Dirty beasts.
Dirty Martin.
Dirty Angela.
Dirty, dirty Angela.
Wake up.
(MAN HOWLING)
(YELLING)
(LAUGHING)
What?
What's wrong with the fish?
- What? What? - I...
I didn't say a thing. Not a word.
What did you say, Jimmy?
No, it wasn't the fish.
- Scalp yer! - No, please, please.
Fish is good for your brains, you twat.
I'll scalp yer! Shagging scalp yer!
Nurse, help! Nurse!
This is a personal transaction between you and me.
Help!
Nurse!
Help!
God!
This is a psychiatric ward.
OTHER JOHN: They're mad in here.
They're all out of their minds.
But I'm not, am I?
OTHER JOHN: Yes, you are.
But I'm not.
No.
No, you never were.
Why can't I be like you?
Where are you?
Where have you gone?
Where are you?
Where have you gone?
- (TRAIN HORN) - Where are you?
Where have you gone?
Where are you?
Where have you gone?
Where?
Please!
Where have you gone?
- They were wrong! - Please!
They were wrong!
- Where? Please! - They were wrong!
Where are you?
Mmm... what is "mmm"? Are you a bumble bee?
Please! Please!
HELEN: You want my body?
You want business?
(SOBBING INCOHERENTLY)
Where are you?
Where have you gone?
It's all right.
- JOHN: Please, please, where are you? - I'm here.
Trust me, trust me.
- JOHN: Please! Please! - I'll kill the little bitch!
Christ...
Can hardly breathe. John!
I have this nightmare, this continual nightmare.
Angela?
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I...
Yes.
Once. I did it once.
Once, Helen.
It's...
It chokes me.
The guilt.
It makes me turn into someone else.
It makes me turn you into a...
That's why I can't.
I dream of killing her.
I dream of making you kill her.
I dream of the gutter. I dream of...
Yes, I... even dream of killing Martin.
Why Martin?
Because he's having her.
So you still want her?
No.
(DISTANT SCREAMS)
Oh, Helen. Helen...
I'm just...
tired.
I'm very, very...
tired.
Put the light out.
I'm not going to pretend anymore.
John.
Do you understand?
No more.
(COUGHING)
You should do something about that cough.
Honey and lemon.
Honey...
and lemon?
- John, it's not possible. - You be the honey, and I'll be the...
(JOHN LAUGHING)
(JOHN SOBBING)
John, we've made each other sick.
It's not possible to live out a fantasy. It's dangerous.
It's too dangerous.
(GROANING)
Honey and lemon.
Not too much lemon.
(DISTANT SCREAM)
Trust me.
Can I?
Yes.
You can.
Honey and lemon.
Honey and lemon, honey and lemon, honey and lemon.
(UPBEAT JAZZ NUMBER)
Honey and lemon, honey and lemon.
SINGER: ♪ I find the things you do
♪ When I'm thinking of you
♪ I'm just so irresistible
♪ I'm afflicted and addicted
♪ By the things you do
♪ When I'm dreaming of you
♪ You're just so unpredictable
♪ I'm afflicted and addicted
♪ By the things you do ♪
(CONTINUES SINGING WORDLESSLY)
JOHN: I've started to talk about it all.
I have started the journey.
I won't get off until I'm...
better.
♪ I find the things you do
(SINGING WORDLESSLY)
♪ I find the things you do
♪ When I'm dreaming of you
♪ When I close my eyes
♪ I get butterflies
♪ And it seems to me
♪ That time suspends
♪ My troubles end
♪ Because we're just secret friends
(CONTINUES SINGING WORDLESSLY)
SUBTITLES BY POWERHOUSE FILMS LTD