DISSON. Huh.
DISLEY. Check the bottom line.
DISLEY switches off the light, puts on the light on the letter board.
What is it?
DISSON. EXJLNVCGTY.
DISLEY. Perfect.
Board light off. Room light on.
DISSON. Yes, I know . . . I know that . . .
DISLEY. Well, what are you worried about?
DISSON. It's not that . . .
DISLEY. Colour? Do you confuse colours? Look at me. What colour am I?
DISSON. Colourless.
DISLEY (laughs, stops). Very funny. What distinguishing marks can you see about me?
DISSON. Two.
DISLEY. What?
DISSON. You have one grey strip in your hair, quite faint.
DISLEY. Good. What's the other?
DISSON. You have a brown stain on your left cheek.
DISLEY. A brown stain? Can you see that? (He looks in the mirror.) I didn't know it was so evident.
DISSON. Of course it's evident. It stains your face.
DISLEY. Don't . . . go on about it, old boy. I didn't realize it was so evident. No-one's ever noticed it before.
DISSON. Not even your wife?
DISLEY. Yes, she has. Anyway, I’d say your eyes are sharp enough. What colour are those lampshades?
DISSON. They're dark blue drums. Each has a golden rim. The carpet is Indian.
DISLEY. That's not a colour.
DISSON. It's white. Over there, by that cabinet, I can see a deep black burn.
DISLEY. A burn? Where? Do you mean that shadow?
DISSON. That's not a shadow. It's a burn.
DISLEY (looking). So it is. How the hell did that happen?
DISSON. Listen . . . I never said I couldn't see. You don't understand. Most of the time . . . my eyesight is excellent. It always has been. But . . . it's become unreliable. It's become . . . erratic. Sometimes, quite suddenly, very occasionally, something happens . . . something . . . goes wrong . . . with my eyes.
Pause.
DISLEY. I can find no evidence that your sight is in any way deficient.
DISSON. You don't understand.
A knock at the door. LOIS appears.
LOIS. I'm just going out. Wanted to say hullo to you before I go.
DISSON. Hullo, Lois.
He kisses her cheek.
LOIS. You've been in here for ages. Don't tell me you need glasses?
DISLEY. His eyes are perfect.
LOIS. They look it.
DISSON. What a lovely dress you're wearing.
LOIS. Do you like it? Really?
DISSON. Of course I like it.
LOIS. You must see if the birds are still there.
She lifts the blind.
Yes, they are. They're all at the bird bath.
They all look into the garden.
Look at them. They're so happy. They love my bath. They do, really. They love it. They make me so happy, my birds. And they seem to know, instinctively, that I adore them. They do really.
Disson’s house. Bedroom. Night.
DISSON alone, in front of a mirror.
He is tying his tie. He ties it. The front end hangs only half-way down his chest.
He unties it, ties it again. The front end, this time, is even shorter.
He unties it, holds the tie and looks at it.
He then ties the tie again. This time the two ends are of equal length.
He breathes deeply, relaxes, goes out of the room.
Disson’s house. Dining room. Night.
DIANA, WILLY, DISSON at dinner.
DIANA. I'd say she was a real find.
WILLY. Oh, she's of inestimable value to the firm, wouldn't you say, Robert?
DISSON. Oh yes.
DIANA. I mean for someone who's not . . . actually . . . part of us . . . I mean, an outsider . . . to give such devotion and willingness to the job, as she does . . . well, it's remarkable. We were very lucky to find her.
DISSON. I found her, actually.
WILLY. You found me, too, old boy.
DIANA (laughing). And me.
Pause.
She's of course so completely trustworthy, and so very persuasive, on the telephone. I've heard her . . . when the door's been open . . . once or twice.
WILLY. Oh, splendid girl, all round.
DISSON. She's not so bloody marvellous.
Pause. They look at him.
She's all right, she's all right. But she's not so bloody marvellous.
DIANA. Well, perhaps not quite as accomplished as I am, no. Do you think I'm a good private secretary, Willy?
WILLY. First rate.
Pause. They eat and drink.
DISSON. I don't think it's a good idea for you to work.
DIANA. Me? Why not? I love it.
DISSON. I never see you. If you were at home I could take the occasional afternoon off . . . to see you. As it is I never see you. In day-time.
DIANA. You mean I'm so near and yet so far?
Pause.
DISSON. Yes.
DIANA. Would you prefer me to be your secretary?
DISSON. No, no, of course not. That wouldn't work at all.
Pause.
WILLY. But we do all meet at lunch-time. We meet in the evening.
DISSON looks at him.
DIANA. But I like working. You wouldn't want me to work for someone else, would you, somewhere else?
DISSON. I certainly wouldn't. You know what Wendy told me, don't you?
DIANA. What?
DISSON. She told me her last employer was always touching her.
WILLY. No?
DISSON. Always. Touching her.
DIANA. Her body, you mean?
DISSON. What else?
Pause.
DIANA. Well, if we're to take it that that's general practice, I think it's safer to stay in the family, don't you? Mind you, they might not want to touch me in the way they wanted to touch her.
Pause.
But, Robert, you must understand that I not only want to be your wife, but also your employee. I'm not embarrassing you, am I, Willy?
WILLY. No, of course you're not.
DIANA. Because by being your employee I can help to further your interests, our interests. That's what I want to do. And so does Willy, don't you?
Disson’s office. Morning.
DISSON alone. He stands in the centre of the room. He looks at the door, walks over to WENDY’S desk. He looks down at her desk-chair. He touches it. Slowly, he sits in it. He sits still. The door opens. WENDY comes in. He stands.
DISSON. You're late.
WENDY. You were sitting in my chair, Mr Disson.
DISSON. I said you're late.
WENDY. I'm not at all.
WENDY walks to her desk.
DISSON makes way for her. He moves across the room.
I'm hurt.
DISSON. Why?
WENDY. I've put on my new dress.
He turns, looks at her.
DISSON. When did you put it on?
WENDY. This morning.
Pause.
DISSON. Where?
WENDY. In my flat.
DISSON. Which room?
WENDY. In the hall, actually. I have a long mirror in the hall.
He stands looking at her.
Do you like it?
DISSON. Yes. Very nice.
Disson’s house. Workroom.
DISSON. Hold it firmly. You're not holding it firmly.
TOM holds a length of wood on the table. DISSON chips at its base.
Use pressure. Grip it.
JOHN. A clamp would be better.
DISSON. A clamp? I want you boys to learn how to concentrate your physical energies, to do something useful.
JOHN. What's it going to be, Dad?
DISSON. You'll find out.
DISSON chips. He straightens.
Give me the saw.
JOHN. Me?
DISSON. The saw! Give me it
! (To TOM.) What are you doing?
TOM. I'm holding this piece of wood.
DISSON. Well, stop it. I've finished chipping. Look at the point now.
JOHN. If you put some lead in there you could make a pencil out of it.
DISSON. They think you're very witty at your school, do they?
JOHN. Well, some do and some don't, actually, Dad.
DISSON. You. Take the saw.
TOM. Me?
DISSON. I want you to saw it off . . . from here.
DISSON makes a line with his finger on the wood.
TOM. But I can't saw.
JOHN. What about our homework, Dad? We've got to write an essay about the Middle Ages.
DISSON. Never mind the Middle Ages.
JOHN. Never mind the Middle Ages?
TOM. Can't you demonstrate how to do it, Dad? Then we could watch.
DISSON. Oh, give me it.
DISSON takes the saw and points to a mark on the wood.
Now . . . from here.
TOM (pointing). You said from here.
DISSON. No, no, from here.
JOHN (pointing to the other end). I could have sworn you said from there.
Pause.
DISSON. Go to your room.
Pause.
Get out.
JOHN goes out. DISSON looks at TOM.
Do you want to learn anything?
TOM. Yes.
DISSON. Where did I say I was going to saw it?
He stares at the wood. TOM holds it still.
Hold it still. Hold it. Don't let it move.
DISSON saws. The saw is very near TOM’S fingers. TOM looks down tensely. DISSON saws through.
TOM. You nearly cut my fingers off.
DISSON. No, I didn't . . . I didn't . . .
He glares suddenly at TOM.
You didn't hold the wood still!
Disson’s office.
The curtains are drawn.
DISSON. Come here. Put your chiffon round my eyes. My eyes hurt.
WENDY ties a chiffon scarf round his eyes.
I want you to make a call to Newcastle, to Mr Martin. We're still waiting for delivery of goods on Invoice No. 634729. What is the cause for delay?
WENDY picks up the telephone, dials, waits.
WENDY. Could I have Newcastle 77254, please. Thank you.
She waits. He touches her body.
Yes, I'm holding.
He touches her. She moves under his touch.
Hullo, Mr Martin, please. Mr Disson's office.
Camera on him. His arm stretching.
Mr Martin? Mr Disson's office. Mr Disson . . . Ah, you know what it's about. (She laughs.) Yes . . . Yes.
Camera on him. He leans forward, his arm stretching.
Oh, it's been dispatched? Oh good. Mr Disson will be glad.
She moves under his touch.
Oh, I will. Of course I will.
She puts the phone down. He withdraws his hand.
Mr Martin sends his apologies. The order has been dispatched.
The intercom buzzes. She switches through. WILLY’S voice.
Yes?
WILLY. Oh, Wendy, is Mr Disson there?
WENDY. Did you want to speak to him, Mr Torrance?
WILLY. No. Just ask him if I might borrow your services for five minutes.
WENDY. Mr Torrance wants to know if he might borrow my services for five minutes.
DISSON. What's happened to his own secretary?
WENDY. Mr Disson would like to know what has happened to your own secretary.
WILLY. She's unwell. Gone home. Just five minutes, that's all.
DISSON gestures towards the door.
WENDY. Be with you in a minute, Mr Torrance.
WILLY. Please thank Mr Disson for me.
The intercom switches off.
WENDY. Mr Torrance would like me to thank you for him.
DISSON. I heard.
WENDY goes through the inner door into WILLY’S office, shuts it.
Silence.
DISSON sits still, the chiffon round his eyes. He looks towards the door.
He hears giggles, hissing, gurgles, squeals.
He goes to the door, squats by the handle, raises the chiffon, tries to look through the keyhole. Can see nothing through the keyhole. He drops the chiffon, puts his ear to the door.
The handle presses into his skull. The sounds continue.
Sudden silence.
The door has opened.
A pair of woman's legs stand by his squatting body. He freezes, slowly puts forward a hand, touches a leg. He tears the chiffon from his eyes. It hangs from his neck. He looks up.
DIANA looks down at him.
Behind her, in the other room, WENDY is sitting, taking dictation from WILLY, who is standing.
DIANA. What game is this?
He remains.
Get up. What are you doing? What are you doing with that scarf? Get up from the floor. What are you doing?
DISSON. Looking for something.
DIANA. What?
WILLY walks to the door, smiles, closes the door.
What were you looking for? Get up.
DISSON (standing). Don't speak to me like that. How dare you speak to me like that? I'll knock your teeth out.
She covers her face.
What were you doing in there? I thought you'd gone home.
What were you doing in there?
DIANA. I came back.
DISSON. You mean you were in there with both of them? In there with both of them?
DIANA. Yes! So what?
Pause.
DISSON (calmly). I was looking for my pencil, which had rolled off my desk. Here it is. I found it, just before you came in, and put it in my pocket. My eyes hurt. I borrowed Wendy’s scarf, to calm my eyes. Why are you getting so excited?
Disson's office. Day.
DISSON at his desk, writing. WENDY walks to the cabinet, examines a file. Silence.
DISSON. What kind of flat do you have, Wendy?
WENDY. Quite a small one, Mr Disson. Quite pleasant.
DISSON. Not too big for you, then? Too lonely?
WENDY. Oh no, it's quite small. Quite cosy.
DISSON. Bathroom fittings any good?
WENDY. Adequate, Mr Disson. Not up to our standard.
Pause.
DISSON. Live there alone, do you?
WENDY. No, I share it with a girl friend. But she's away quite a lot of the time. She's an air hostess. She wants me to become one, as a matter of fact.
DISSON. Listen to me, Wendy. Don't ever . . . dream of becoming an air hostess. Never. The glamour may dazzle from afar, but, believe you me, it's a mess of a life . . . a mess of a life . . .
He watches WENDY walk to her desk with a file and then back to the cabinet.
Were you lonely as a child?
WENDY. No.
DISSON. Nor was I. I had quite a lot of friends. True friends. Most of them live abroad now, of course – banana planters, oil engineers, Jamaica, the Persian Gulf . . . but if I were to meet them tomorrow, you know . . . just like that . . . there'd be no strangeness, no awkwardness at all. We'd continue where we left off, quite naturally.
WENDY bends low at the cabinet.
He stares at her buttocks.
It's a matter of a core of affection, you see . . . a core of undying affection . . .
Suddenly WENDY’S body appears in enormous close-up. Her buttocks fill the screen.
His hands go up to keep them at bay.
His elbow knocks a round table lighter from his desk.
Picture normal.
WENDY turns from the cabinet, stands upright.
WENDY. What was that?
DISSON. My lighter.
She goes to his desk.
WENDY. Where is it?
She kneels, looks under the desk. The lighter is at his feet. She reaches for it. He kicks it across the room.
(Laughing.) Oh, Mr Disson, why did you do that?
&nbs
p; She stands. He stands. She goes towards the lighter. He gets to it before her, stands with it at his feet. He looks at her. She stops.
What's this?
DISSON feints his body, left to right.
DISSON. Come on.
WENDY. What?
DISSON. Tackle me. Get the ball.
WENDY. What do I tackle with?
DISSON. Your feet.
She moves forward deliberately.
He dribbles away, turns, kicks the lighter along the carpet towards her. Her foot stops the lighter. She turns with it at her foot.
Ah!
She stands, legs apart, the lighter between them, staring at him.
She taps her foot.
WENDY. Come on, then!
He goes towards her. She eludes him. He grasps her arm.
That's a foul!
He drops her arm.
DISSON. Sorry.
She stands with the lighter between her feet.
WENDY. Come on, come on. Tackle me, tackle me. Come on, tackle me! Get the ball! Fight for the ball!
He begins to move, stops, sinks to the floor. She goes to him.
What's the matter?
DISSON. Nothing. All right. Nothing.
WENDY. Let me help you up.
DISSON. No. Stay. You're very valuable in this office. Good worker. Excellent. If you have any complaints, just tell me. I'll soon put them right. You're a very efficient secretary. Something I've always needed. Have you everything you want? Are your working conditions satisfactory?
WENDY. Perfectly.
DISSON. Oh good. Good . . . Good.
Disson’s house. Bedroom. Night.
DISSON and DIANA in bed, reading. She looks at him.
DIANA. You seem a little subdued . . . lately.
DISSON. Me? Not at all. I'm reading the Life of Napoleon, that's all.
DIANA. No, I don't mean now, I mean generally. Is there –?
DISSON. I'm not at all subdued. Really.
Pause.
DIANA. It's our first anniversary next Wednesday, did you know that?
DISSON. Of course I did. How could I forget? Well go out together in the evening. Just you and I. Alone.
DIANA. Oh. Good.
DISSON. I'm also giving a little tea party in the office, in the afternoon. My mother and father'll be up.
DIANA. Oh good
Pause.
DISSON. How have you enjoyed our first year?
DIANA. It's been wonderful. It's been a very exciting year.
Pause.
DISSON. You've been marvellous with the boys.
DIANA. They like me.
DISSON. Yes, they do. They do.
Complete Works, Volume III Page 9