RICHARD Why not?
SARAH It’s just not possible. You have such taste. You care so much for grace and elegance in women.
RICHARD And wit.
SARAH And wit, yes.
RICHARD Wit, yes. Terribly important, wit, for a man.
SARAH Is she witty?
RICHARD (laughing) These terms just don’t apply. You can’t sensibly inquire whether a whore is witty. It’s of no significance whether she is or she isn’t. She’s simply a whore, a functionary who either pleases or displeases.
SARAH And she pleases you?
RICHARD Today she is pleasing. Tomorrow …? One can’t say.
He moves towards the bedroom door taking off his jacket.
SARAH I must say I find your attitude to women rather alarming.
RICHARD Why? I wasn’t looking for your double, was I? I wasn’t looking for a woman I could respect, as you, whom I could admire and love, as I do you. Was I? All I wanted was … how shall I put it… someone who could express and engender lust with all lust’s cunning. Nothing more.
He goes into the bedroom, hangs his jacket up in the wardrobe, and changes into his slippers.
In the living room SARAH puts her drink down, hesitates and then follows into the bedroom.
SARAH I’m sorry your affair possesses so little dignity.
RICHARD The dignity is in my marriage.
SARAH Or sensibility.
RICHARD The sensibility likewise. I wasn’t looking for such attributes. I find them in you.
SARAH Why did you look at all?
Slight pause.
RICHARD What did you say?
SARAH Why look … elsewhere … at all?
RICHARD But my dear, you looked. Why shouldn’t I look?
Pause.
SARAH Who looked first?
RICHARD You.
SARAH I don’t think that’s true.
RICHARD Who, then?
She looks at him with a slight smile.
Fade up. Night. Moonlight on balcony. The lights fade. RICHARD comes in bedroom door in his pyjamas. He picks up a book and looks at it.
SARAH comes from bathroom in her nightdress. There is a double bed. SARAH sits at the dressing table. Combs her hair.
SARAH Richard?
RICHARD Mnn?
SARAH Do you ever think about me at all … when you’re with her?
RICHARD Oh, a little. Not much.
Pause.
We talk about you.
SARAH You talk about me with her?
RICHARD Occasionally. It amuses her.
SARAH Amuses her?
RICHARD
RICHARD (choosing a book) Mmnn.
SARAH How … do you talk about me?
RICHARD Delicately. We discuss you as we would play an antique music box. We play it for our titillation, whenever desired.
Pause.
SARAH I can’t pretend the picture gives me great pleasure.
RICHARD It wasn’t intended to. The pleasure is mine.
SARAH Yes, I see that, of course.
RICHARD (sitting on the bed) Surely your own afternoon pleasures are sufficient for you, aren’t they? You don’t expect extra pleasure from my pastimes, do you?
SARAH No, not at all.
RICHARD Then why all the questions?
SARAH Well, it was you who started it. Asking me so many questions about … my side of it. You don’t normally do that.
RICHARD Objective curiosity, that’s all.
He touches her shoulders.
You’re not suggesting I’m jealous, surely?
She smiles, stroking his hand.
SARAH Darling. I know you’d never stoop to that.
RICHARD Good God, no.
He squeezes her shoulder.
What about you? You’re not jealous, are you?
SARAH No. From what you tell me about your lady I seem to have a far richer time than you do.
RICHARD Possibly.
He opens the windows fully and stands by them, looking out.
What peace. Come and look.
She joins him at the window. They stand silently.
What would happen if I came home early one day, I wonder?
Pause.
SARAH What would happen if I followed you one day, I wonder?
Pause.
RICHARD Perhaps we could all meet for tea in the village.
SARAH Why the village? Why not here?
RICHARD Here? What an extraordinary remark.
Pause.
Your poor lover has never seen the night from this window, has he?
SARAH No. He’s obliged to leave before sunset, unfortunately.
RICHARD Doesn’t he get a bit bored with these damn afternoons? This eternal teatime? I would. To have as the constant image of your lust a milk jug and teapot. Must be terribly dampening.
SARAH He’s very adaptable. And, of course, when one puts the blinds down it does become a kind of evening.
RICHARD Yes, I suppose it would.
Pause.
What does he think of your husband?
Slight pause.
SARAH He respects you.
Pause.
RICHARD I’m rather moved by that remark, in a strange kind of way. I think I can understand why you like him so much.
SARAH He’s terribly sweet.
RICHARD Mmn-hmmnn.
SARAH Has his moods, of course.
RICHARD Who doesn’t?
SARAH But I must say he’s very loving. His whole body emanates love.
RICHARD How nauseating.
SARAH No.
RICHARD Manly with it, I hope?
SARAH Entirely.
RICHARD Sounds tedious.
SARAH Not at all.
Pause.
He has a wonderful sense of humour.
RICHARD Oh, jolly good. Makes you laugh, does he? Well, mind the neighbours don’t hear you. The last thing we want is gossip.
Pause.
SARAH It’s wonderful to live out here, so far away from the main road, so secluded.
RICHARD Yes, I do agree.
They go back into the room. They get into the bed. He picks up his book and looks at it. He closes it and puts it down.
This isn’t much good.
He switches off his bedside lamp. She does the same. Moonlight.
He’s married, isn’t he?
SARAH Mmmmn.
RICHARD Happily?
SARAH Mmmmn.
Pause.
And you’re happy, aren’t you? You’re not in any way jealous?
RICHARD No.
SARAH Good. Because I think things are beautifully balanced, Richard.
Fade.
Fade up. Morning. SARAH putting on her negligee in the bedroom. She begins to make the bed.
SARAH Darling.
Pause.
Will the shears be ready this morning?
RICHARD (in bathroom, off) The what?
SARAH The shears.
RICHARD No, not this morning.
He enters, fully dressed in his suit. Kisses her on the cheek.
Not till Friday. Bye-bye.
He leaves the bedroom, collects hat and briefcase from hall.
SARAH Richard.
He turns.
You won’t be home too early today, will you?
RICHARD Do you mean he’s coming again today? Good gracious. He was here yesterday. Coming again today?
SARAH Yes.
RICHARD Oh. No, well, I won’t be home early. I’ll go to the National Gallery.
SARAH Right.
RICHARD Bye-bye.
SARAH Bye.
The lights fade.
Fade up. Afternoon. SARAH comes downstairs into living room. She wears a very tight, low-cut black dress. She hastily looks at herself in the mirror. Suddenly notices she is wearing low-heeled shoes. She goes quickly to cupboard changes them for her high-heeled shoes. Looks again in mirror, smoothes her hips. Goes to window, pulls Venetian blinds
down, opens them, and closes them until there is a slight slit of light. There are three chimes of a clock. She looks at her watch, goes towards the flowers on the table. Door bell. She goes to door. It is the milkman, John.
JOHN Cream?
SARAH You’re very late.
JOHN Cream?
SARAH No, thank you.
JOHN Why not?
SARAH I have some. Do I owe you anything?
JOHN Mrs Owen just had three jars. Clotted.
SARAH What do I owe you?
JOHN It’s not Saturday yet.
SARAH (taking the milk) Thank you.
JOHN Don’t you fancy any cream? Mrs Owen had three jars.
SARAH Thank you.
She closes the door. Goes into the kitchen with milk. Comes back with a tea-tray, holding teapot and cups, sets it on small table above chaise longue. She briefly attends to the flowers, sits on the chaise longue, crosses her legs, uncrosses them, puts her legs up on chaise longue, smoothes her stockings under her skirt. The doorbell rings. Pulling her dress down she moves to the door, opens it.
Hallo, Max.
RICHARD comes in. He is wearing a suede jacket, and no tie.
He walks into the room and stands.
She closes the door behind him. Walks slowly down past him, and sits on the chaise longue, crossing her legs.
Pause.
He moves slowly to chaise longue and stands very close to her at her back. She arches her back, uncrosses her legs, moves away to low chair down left.
Pause.
He looks at her, then moves towards the hall cupboard, brings out a bongo drum. He places the drum on the chaise longue, stands.
Pause.
She rises, moves past him towards the hall, turns, looks at him.
He moves below chaise. They sit at either end. He begins to tap the drum. Her forefinger moves along drum towards his hand. She scratches the back of his hand sharply. Her hand retreats. Her fingers tap one after the other towards him, and rest. Her forefinger scratches between his fingers. Her other fingers do the same. His legs tauten. His hand clasps hers. Her hand tries to escape. Wild beats of their fingers tangling.
Stillness.
She gets up, goes to drinks table, lights a cigarette, moves to window. He puts drum down on chair down right, picks up cigarette, moves to her.
MAX Excuse me.
She glances at him and away.
Excuse me, have you got a light?
She does not respond.
Do you happen to have a light?
SARAH Do you mind leaving me alone?
MAX Why?
Pause.
I’m merely asking if you can give me a light.
She moves from him and looks up and down the room. He follows to her shoulder. She turns back.
SARAH Excuse me.
She moves past him. Close, his body follows. She stops.
I don’t like being followed.
MAX Just give me a light and I won’t bother you. That’s all I want.
SARAH (through her teeth) Please go away. I’m waiting for someone.
MAX Who?
SARAH My husband.
MAX Why are you so shy? Eh? Where’s your lighter?
He touches her body. An indrawn breath from her.
Here?
Pause.
Where is it?
He touches her body. A gasp from her.
Here?
She wrenches herself away. He traps her in the corner.
SARAH (hissing) What do you think you’re doing?
MAX I’m dying for a puff.
SARAH I’m waiting for my husband!
MAX Let me get a light from yours.
They struggle silently.
She breaks away to wall.
Silence.
He approaches.
Are you all right, miss? I’ve just got rid of that … gentleman. Did he hurt you in any way?
SARAH Oh, how wonderful of you. No, no, I’m all right. Thank you.
MAX Very lucky I happened to be passing. You wouldn’t believe that could happen in such a beautiful park.
SARAH No, you wouldn’t.
MAX Still, you’ve come to no harm.
SARAH I can never thank you enough. I’m terribly grateful, I really am.
MAX Why don’t you sit down a second and calm yourself.
SARAH Oh, I’m quite calm – but … yes, thank you. You’re so kind. Where shall we sit.
MAX Well, we can’t sit out. It’s raining. What about that park-keeper’s hut?
SARAH Do you think we should? I mean, what about the park-keeper?
MAX I am the park-keeper.
They sit on the chaise tongue.
SARAH I never imagined I could meet anyone so kind.
MAX To treat a lovely young woman like you like that, it’s unpardonable.
SARAH (gazing at him) You seem so mature, so … appreciative.
MAX Of course.
SARAH So gentle. So… Perhaps it was all for the best.
MAX What do you mean?
SARAH So that we could meet. So that we could meet. You and I.
Her fingers trace his thigh. He stares at them, lifts them off.
MAX I don’t quite follow you.
SARAH Don’t you?
Her fingers trace his thigh. He stares at them, lifts them off.
MAX Now look, I’m sorry. I’m married.
She takes his hand and puts it on her knee.
SARAH You’re so sweet, you mustn’t worry.
MAX (snatching his hand away) No, I really am. My wife’s waiting for me.
SARAH Can’t you speak to strange girls?
MAX No.
SARAH Oh, how sickening you are. How tepid.
MAX I’m sorry.
SARAH You men are all alike. Give me a cigarette.
MAX I bloody well won’t.
SARAH I beg your pardon?
MAX Come here, Dolores.
SARAH Oh no, not me. Once bitten twice shy, thanks. (She stands.) Bye-bye.
MAX You can’t get out, darling. The hut’s locked. We’re alone. You’re trapped.
SARAH Trapped! I’m a married woman. You can’t treat me like this
MAX (moving to her) It’s teatime, Mary.
She moves swiftly behind the table and stands there with her back to the wall. He moves to the opposite end of the table, hitches his trousers, bends and begins to crawl under the table towards her.
He disappears under the velvet cloth. Silence. She stares down at the table. Her legs are hidden from view. His hand is on her leg. She looks about, grimaces, grits her teeth, gasps, gradually sinks under the table, and disappears. Long silence.
HER VOICE
Max!
Lights fade.
Fade up.
MAX sitting on chair down left.
SARAH pouring tea.
SARAH Max.
MAX What?
SARAH (fondly) Darling.
Slight pause.
What is it? You’re very thoughtful.
MAX No.
SARAH You are. I know it.
Pause.
MAX Where’s your husband?
Pause.
SARAH My husband? You know where he is.
MAX Where?
SARAH He’s at work.
MAX Poor fellow. Working away, all day.
Pause.
I wonder what he’s like.
SARAH (chuckling) Oh, Max.
MAX I wonder if we’d get on. I wonder if we’d … you know … hit it off.
SARAH I shouldn’t think so.
MAX Why not?
SARAH You’ve got very little in common.
MAX Have we? He’s certainly very accommodating. I mean, he knows perfectly well about these afternoons of ours, doesn’t he?
SARAH Of course.
MAX He’s known for years.
Slight pause.
Why does he put up with it?
SARAH Why are you suddenly talking
about him? I mean what’s the point of it? It isn’t a subject you normally elaborate on.
MAX Why does he put up with it?
SARAH Oh, shut up.
MAX I asked you a question.
Pause.
SARAH He doesn’t mind.
MAX Doesn’t he?
Slight pause.
Well, I’m beginning to mind.
Pause.
SARAH What did you say.
MAX I’m beginning to mind.
Slight pause.
It’s got to stop. It can’t go on.
SARAH Are you serious?
Silence.
MAX It can’t go on.
SARAH You’re joking.
MAX No, I’m not.
SARAH Why? Because of my husband? Not because of my husband, I hope. That’s going a little far, I think.
MAX No, nothing to do with your husband. It’s because of my wife.
Pause.
SARAH Your wife?
MAX I can’t deceive her any longer.
SARAH Max …
MAX I’ve been deceiving her for years. I can’t go on with it. It’s killing me.
SARAH But darling, look –
MAX Don’t touch me.
Pause.
SARAH What did you say?
MAX You heard.
Pause.
SARAH But your wife … knows. Doesn’t she? You’ve told her … all about us. She’s known all the time.
MAX No, she doesn’t know. She thinks I know a whore, that’s all. Some spare-time whore, that’s all. That’s what she thinks.
SARAH Yes, but be sensible … my love … she doesn’t mind, does she?
MAX She’d mind if she knew the truth, wouldn’t she?
SARAH What truth? What are you talking about?
MAX She’d mind if she knew that, in fact … I’ve got a full-time mistress, two or three times a week, a woman of grace, elegance, wit, imagination –
SARAH Yes, yes, you have –
The Short Plays of Harold Pinter Page 22