He wipes his face with his hand.
You do look hot. Why are you so hot? It’s chilly. Yes, you remind me … I saw the most ghasdy horrible fight before, there was a man, one man, he was sweating … sweating. You haven’t been in a fight, by any chance? I don’t know how men can be so bestial. It’s hardly much fun for women, I can tell you. I don’t want someone else’s blood on my carpet.
ALBERT chuckles.
What are you laughing at?
ALBERT Nothing.
GIRL It’s not in the least funny.
ALBERT looks up at the mantelpiece. His gaze rests there.
What are you looking at?
ALBERT (ruminatively) That’s a nice big clock.
It is twenty past two.
GIRL (with fatigue) Yes, it’s late, I suppose we might as well … Haven’t you got a cigarette?
ALBERT No.
GIRL (jumping up) I’m sure I have, somewhere. (She goes to the table.) Yes, here we are, I knew I had. I have to hide them. The woman who comes in to do my room, she’s very light-fingered. I don’t know why she comes in at all. Nobody wants her, all she does is spy on me, but I’m obliged to put up with her, this room is serviced. Which means I have to pay a pretty penny.
She lights her cigarette.
It’s a dreadful area, too. I’m thinking of moving. The neighbourhood is full of people of no class at all. I just don’t fit in.
ALBERT Is that clock right?
GIRL People have told me, the most distinguished people, that I could go anywhere. You could go anywhere, they’ve told me, you could be anything. I’m quite well educated, you know. My father was a … he was a military man. In the Army. Actually it was a relief to speak to you. I haven’t … spoken to anyone for some hours.
ALBERT suddenly coughs violently.
Oh, please don’t do that! Use your handkerchief!
He sighs, and groans.
What on earth’s the matter with you? What have you been doing tonight?
He looks at her and smiles.
ALBERT Nothing.
GIRL Really?
She belches.
Oh, excuse me. I haven’t eaten all day. I had a tooth out. Hiccoughs come from not eating, don’t they? Do you … do you want one of these?
She throws him a cigarette, which he slowly lights.
I mean, I’m no different from any other girl. In fact, I’m better. These so-called respectable girls, for instance, I’m sure they’re much worse than I am. Well, you’re an assistant director – all your continuity girls and secretaries, I’ll bet they’re … very loose.
ALBERT Uh.
GIRL Do you know what I’ve actually heard? I’ve heard that respectable married women, solicitors’ wives, go out and pick men up when their husbands are out on business! Isn’t that fantastic? I mean, they’re supposed to be … they’re supposed to be respectable!
ALBERT (muttering) Fantastic.
GIRL I beg your pardon?
ALBERT I said it was fantastic.
GIRL It is. You’re right. Quite fantastic. Here’s one thing, though. There’s one thing that’s always fascinated me. How far do men’s girl friends go? I’ve often wondered. Pause. Eh?
ALBERT Depends.
GIRL Yes, I suppose it must.
Pause.
You mean on the girl?
ALBERT What?
GIRL You mean it depends on the girl?
ALBERT It would do, yes.
GIRL Quite possibly. I must admit that with your continuity girls and secretaries, I don’t see why you … had to approach me…. Have you been on the town tonight, then? With a continuity girl?
ALBERT You’re a bit … worried about continuity girls, aren’t you?
GIRL Only because I’ve been one myself. I know what they’re like. No better than they should be.
ALBERT When were you a …?
GIRL Years ago! (Standing.) You’re nosey, aren’t you?
She goes to the window.
Sometimes I wish the night would never end. I like sleeping. I could sleep … on and on.
ALBERT stands and picks up the clock.
Yes, you can see the station from here. All the trains go out, right through the night.
He stares at the clock.
I suppose we might as well … (She turns and sees him.) What are you doing? (She crosses to him.) What are you doing with that clock?
He looks at her, slowly.
Mmnn?
ALBERT Admiring it.
GIRL It’s a perfectly ordinary clock. Give me it. I’ve seen too many people slip things into their pockets before now, as soon as your back’s turned. Nothing personal, of course. (She puts it back.) Mind your ash! Don’t spill it all over the floor! I have to keep this carpet immaculate. Otherwise the charlady, she’s always looking for excuses for telling tales. Here. Here’s an ashtray. Use it, please.
She gives it to him. He stares at her.
Sit down. Sit down. Don’t stand about like that. What are you staring at me for?
He sits. She studies him.
Where’s your wife?
ALBERT Nowhere.
She stubs her cigarette.
GIRL And what film are you making at the moment?
ALBERT I’m on holiday.
GIRL Where do you work?
ALBERT I’m a freelance.
GIRL You’re … rather young to be in such a … high position, aren’t you?
ALBERT Oh?
GIRL (laughs) You amuse me. You interest me. I’m a bit of a psychologist, you know. You’re very young to be – what you said you were. There’s something childish in your face, almost retarded. (She laughs.) I do like that word. I’m not being personal, of course … just being … psychological. Of course, I can see you’re one for the girls. Don’t know why you had to pick on me, at this time of night, really rather forward of you. I’m a respectable mother, you know, with a child at boarding school. You couldn’t call me … anything else. All I do, I just entertain a few gentlemen, of my own choice, now and again. What girl doesn’t?
His hand screws the cigarette. He lets it fall on the carpet.
(Outraged.) What do you think you’re doing?
She stares at htm.
Pick it up! Pick that up, I tell you! It’s my carpet!
She lunges towards it.
It’s not my carpet, they’ll make me pay –
His hand closes upon hers as she reaches for it.
What are you doing? Let go. Treating my place like a pigsty. (She looks up at him as he bends over her.) Let me go. You’re burning my carpet!
ALBERT (quietly, intensely) Sit down.
GIRL How dare you?
ALBERT Shut up. Sit down.
GIRL (struggling) What are you doing?
ALBERT (erratically, trembling, but with quiet command) Don’t scream. I’m warning you.
He lifts her by her wrist and presses her down on to the stool.
No screaming. I warn you.
GIRL What’s the –?
ALBERT (through his teeth) Be quiet. I told you to be quiet. Now you be quiet.
GIRL What are you going to do?
ALBERT (seizing the clock from the mantelpiece) Don’t muck me about!
She freezes with terror.
See this? One crack with this … just one crack … (Viciously.) Who do you think you are? You talk too much, you know that. You never stop talking. Just because you’re a woman you think you can get away with it. (Bending over her.) You’ve made a mistake, this time. You’ve picked the wrong man.
He begins to grow in stature and excitement, passing the clock from hand to hand.
You’re all the same, you see, you’re all the same, you’re just a dead weight round my neck. What makes you think …
He begins to move about the room, at one point half crouching, at another standing upright, as if exercising his body.
What makes you think you can … tell me … yes … It’s the same as this business about the
light in Grandma’s room. Always something. Always something. (To her.) My ash? I’ll put it where I like! You see this clock? Watch your step. Just watch your step.
GIRL Stop this. What are you –?
ALBERT (seizing her wrist, with trembling, controlled violence) Watch your step! (Stammering.) I’ve had – I’ve had – I’ve had – just about enough. Get it? … You know what I did?
He looks at her and chuckles.
Don’t be so frightened.
GIRL I …
ALBERT (casually) Don’t be so frightened.
He squats by her, still holding the clock.
I’m just telling you. I’m just telling you, that’s all. (Breathlessly.) You haven’t got any breeding. She hadn’t either. And what about those girls tonight? Same kind. And that one. I didn’t touch her!
GIRL (almost inaudible) What you been doing?
ALBERT I’ve got as many qualifications as the next man. Let’s get that quite … straight. And I got the answer to her. I got the answer to her, you see, tonight…. I finished the conversation … I finished it … I finished her …
She squirms. He raises the clock.
With this clock! (Trembling.) One … crack … with … this… clock … finished! (Thoughtfully.) Of course, I loved her, really.
He suddenly sees the photograph on the mantelpiece, puts the clock down and takes it. The GIRL half rises and gasps, watching him. He looks at the photo curiously.
Uhhh? … Your daughter? … This a photo of your daughter? … Uuuh? (He breaks the frame and takes out the photo.)
GIRL (rushes at him) Leave that!
ALBERT (dropping the frame and holding the photo) Is it?
The girl grabs at it. albert clutches her wrist. He holds her at arm’s length.
GIRL Leave that! (Writhing.) What? Don’t – it’s mine!
ALBERT (turns the photo over and reads back) ‘Class Three Classical, Third Prize, Bronze Medal, Twickenham Competition, nineteen thirty-three.’
He stares at her. The girl stands, shivering and whimpering.
You liar. That’s you.
GIRL It’s not!
ALBERT That’s not your daughter. It’s you! You’re just a fake, you’re just all lies!
GIRL Scum! Filthy scum!
ALBERT, twisting her wrist, moves suddenly to her. The GIRL cringing, falls back into her chair.
ALBERT (warningly) Mind how you talk to me. (He crumples the photo.)
GIRL (moans) My daughter. My little girl. My little baby girl.
ALBERT Get up.
GIRL No …
ALBERT Get up! Up!
She stands.
Walk over there, to the wall. Go on! Get over there. Do as you’re told. Do as I’m telling you. I’m giving the orders here.
She walks to the wall.
Stop!
GIRL (whimpering) What … do you want me to do?
ALBERT Just keep your big mouth closed, for a start.
He frowns uncertainly.
Cover your face!
She does so. He looks about, blinking.
Yes. That’s right. (He sees his shoes.) Come on, come on, pick up those shoes. Those shoes! Pick them up!
She looks for the shoes and picks them up.
That’s right. (He sits.) Bring them over here. Come on. That’s right. Put them on.
He extends his foot.
GIRL You’re …
ALBERT On! Right on. That’s it. That’s it. That’s more like it. That’s … more like it! Good. Lace them! Good.
He stands. She crouches.
Silence.
He shivers and murmurs with the cold. He looks about the room.
ALBERT It’s cold.
Pause.
Ooh, it’s freezing.
GIRL (whispering) The fire’s gone.
ALBERT (looking at the window) What’s that? Looks like light. Ooh, it’s perishing. (Looks about, muttering.) What a dump. Not staying here. Getting out of this place.
He shivers and drops the clock. He looks down at it. She too. He kicks it across the room.
(With a smile, softly.) So you … bear that in mind. Mind how you talk to me.
He goes to door, then turns.
(Flipping half a crown to her.) Buy yourself a seat … buy yourself a seat at a circus.
He opens the door and goes.
SCENE THREE
The house.
The front door opens. ALBERT comes in, a slight smile on his face. He saunters across the hall into the kitchen, takes off his jacket and throws it across the room. The same with his tie. He sits heavily, loosely, in a chair, his legs stretched out. Stretching his arms, he yawns luxuriously, scratches his head with both hands and stares ruminatively at the ceiling, a smile on his face. His mother’s voice calls his name.
MOTHER (from the stairs) Albert!
His body freezes. His gaze comes down. His legs slowly come together. He looks in front of him.
His MOTHER comes into the room, in her dressing gown. She stands, looking at him.
Do you know what the time is?
Pause.
Where have you been?
Pause.
(Reproachfully, near to tears.) I don’t know what to say to you, Albert. To raise your hand to your own mother. You’ve never done that before in your life. To threaten your own mother.
Pause.
That clock would have hurt me, Albert. And you’d have been … I know you’d have been very sorry. Aren’t I a good mother to you? Everything I do is … is for your own good. You should know that. You’re all I’ve got.
She looks at his slumped figure. Her reproach turns to solicitude.
(Gently.) Look at you. You look washed out. Oh, you look … I don’t understand what could have come over you.
She takes a chair and sits close to him.
Listen, Albert, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to forget it. You see? I’m going to forget all about it. We’ll have your holiday in a fortnight. We can go away.
She strokes his hand.
We’ll go away … together.
Pause.
It’s not as if you’re a bad boy … you’re a good boy … I know you are … it’s not as if you’re really bad, Albert, you’re not … you’re not bad, you’re good … you’re not a bad boy, Albert, I know you’re not …
Pause.
You’re good, you’re not bad, you’re a good boy … I know you are … you are, aren’t you?
NIGHT SCHOOL
Night School first published 1979
© FPinter Limited, 1967, 1979
Night School was transmitted by Associated Rediffusion Television on 21 July 1960 with the following cast:
ANNIE Iris Vandeleur
WALTER Milo O’Shea
MILLY Jane Eccles
SALLY Vivien Merchant
SOLTO Martin Miller
TULLY Bernard Spear
Directed by Joan Kemp-Welch
It was subsequently broadcast on the BBC Third Programme on 25 September 1966 in the version printed here, with the following cast:
ANNIE Mary O’Farrell
WALTER John Hollis
MILLY Sylvia Coleridge
SALLY Prunella Scales
SOLTO Sydney Tafler
TULLY Preston Lockwood
BARBARA Barbara Mitchell
MAVIS Carol Marsh
Directed by Guy Vaesen
Characters
ANNIE
WALTER
MILLY
SALLY
SOLTO
TULLY
BARBARA
MAVIS
Living room.
ANNIE Look at your raincoat. It’s on the floor.
WALTER I’ll hang it up. I’ll take the case upstairs, eh?
ANNIE Have your tea. Go on, have your tea. Don’t worry about taking the case upstairs. Pause.
WALTER Lovely cake.
ANNIE Do you like it? I’ve had to lay off cake. They was giving me h
eartburn. Go on, have another piece.
WALTER Ah well, the place looks marvellous.
ANNIE I gave it a nice clean out before you came.
Pause.
Well, Wally, how did they treat you this time, eh?
WALTER Marvellous.
ANNIE I didn’t expect you back so soon. I thought you was staying longer this time.
WALTER No, I wasn’t staying longer.
ANNIE Milly’s not been well.
WALTER Oh? What’s the matter with her?
ANNIE She’ll be down in a minute, she heard you come.
WALTER I brought some chocolates for her.
ANNIE I can’t stand chocolates.
WALTER I know that. That’s why I didn’t bring any for you.
ANNIE You remembered, eh?
WALTER Oh, yes.
ANNIE Yes, she’s been having a rest upstairs. All I do, I run up and down them stairs all day long. What about the other day? I was up doing those curtains, I came over terrible. Then she says I shouldn’t have done them that way. I should have done them the other way.
WALTER What’s the matter with the curtains?
ANNIE She says they’re not hanging properly. She says I should have done them the other way. She likes them the other way. She lies up there upstairs. I’m older than she is.
Annie pours herself and Walter more tea.
The Short Plays of Harold Pinter Page 12