A Summer Place Page #3

He comes from a good family.

He'll undoubtedly inherit this place.

You could do worse.

You've got to play your cards right.

You can't let him think

that your kisses come cheap.

I won't, Mother. Honest.

You're a good girl, I know that.

But you've got to use your head.

You've got to remember

that you have to play a man, like a fish.

You have to make him want you,

and never betray that you want him.

That's what's cheap, wanting a man.

Love should be more

than just animal attraction.

Yes, Mother.

Now, you must promise me that you won't

let him kiss you again until I say it's time.

Okay, but you promise me

that you won't fight with Papa anymore.

Can I say good night to him now?

Of course, darling.

I made a deal with Mama

to stop fighting with you.

That's quite a deal.

What'd you have to give up in return?

Kissing Johnny.

- You got the short end of the stick.

- I know it.

Why did you ever marry her?

I've never heard her say, "I love you,"

to you. Has she?

- No.

- Have you her?

- In the beginning.

- Then why?

I was lonely. So was she, I guess.

Her father used to bring me home

after work for dinner.

It seemed better than being alone

at the time.

- Didn't you ever love anyone else?

- Yep.

But I didn't have much to offer

at the time.

She married the other guy.

Why'd you and Mama

stop sharing the same room?

- She wanted it that way.

- I know. She's anti-sex.

She says all a boy wants out of a girl

is that...

...and when the girl marries,

it's something she has to endure.

I don't wanna think like that, Papa.

She makes me ashamed

of even having a body.

And when I have a naughty dream at night,

she makes me feel like hanging myself.

- How can you help what you dream?

- You can't.

And don't let her spoil yours.

Remember this,

we've got only one great reason for living:

To love and be loved.

That's our sole reason for existence.

But she doesn't love you

and she doesn't love me.

I think her heartache

is that she doesn't know how.

And mine is

that I apparently couldn't teach her.

Good night, Papa.

Sylvia, dear,

I hate breaking in on teatime...

...but I must tell you there's a leak

in the roof.

- Where, Aunt Emily?

- In my water closet.

Where in your water closet?

Right over one of my conveniences.

It drops, and I must confess,

causes some difficulty.

So you go right and tell Bart

to climb up there and fix it.

I've written to the mainland

for a repairman.

Bart's not good at fixing things,

you know that.

Well, I should, I'm his godmother.

The trouble with Bart...

...is he tries to make a virtue

out of incompetence.

Calls himself one of God's helpless people,

and still worse, seems proud of it.

Lifeguard, you come here.

You're not the helpless type.

How about fixing my leak?

Just where are you leaking?

Through the roof,

directly into my convenience.

Sylvia can show you the way

to the attic.

- I can't ask you to go up there and...

- Nonsense.

- You got the tools, I'll take a crack at it.

- What about your clothes?

I'll go change while you get the toolbox.

I never was cut out

to be a man of leisure anyway.

That's that.

Do you think the roof itself is all right?

It's slate, should last 1000 years.

I'm grateful to you, Ken.

You have no idea how worried

I've been about it.

I wanted to send for a contractor

to come out and examine it...

...but Bart was so sure he'd find

the whole roof rotting...

...that he refused to send for an expert.

He said the man could pass the word on

and have the entire inn condemned.

"Let it go," Bart said, "let it go."

What's it like being stuck out here

all winter?

Oh, it's quite lovely after the first snow.

And after the blizzards start?

You've been avoiding me

ever since I arrived, Sylvia. Why?

Can't we talk a moment?

- What about?

- You, me, Bart.

How are things between you?

We've made a life.

I guess we all adjust ourselves,

don't we?

I've never been able to.

All through these years, my dreams

have had you wrapped up in them.

I tried forgetting.

I even tried to imagine

that you had grown fat and ugly and saggy.

Is that why you came back, to find out?

To see?

I came back because I had to.

Why did you wait so long?

Because I swore I wouldn't come back

until I'd made a million dollars.

- It wasn't your being poor.

- I know.

Your mother thought Bart was a good match

and I was a nothing.

Maybe I should thank her.

Maybe she's the reason I worked so hard

to prove myself to you.

You didn't have to prove anything.

How has it been with you and...?

A half-life.

I stuck it out because of Molly.

Is that how it's been with you?

Because of Johnny.

Did Bart know we were lovers

before he married you?

He only knew

that there was something wrong.

He knew that on our wedding night.

And he's been just a little bit drunk

ever since.

Did your wife know about us?

When did you marry her?

The week after I saw your wedding pictures

in the papers.

It seems we've spoiled two lives.

Now we're paying for it.

For as long as we live?

It's been a half-life for me too.

Never really fulfilling,

never being fulfilled.

- I'm hungry for everything it hasn't been.

- Do you love me? Is it still the same?

Dear God, yes.

I don't want to hurt everybody.

We could, you know?

I know.

They'll be wondering where we are

even now.

When can I meet you? Where?

I don't know.

I'd better go down alone.

I'll meet you at the boathouse

at 2 this morning.

I'll be waiting.

Sylvia.

Come in.

You see that? It's a vent to the attic.

Acts as sort of a megaphone.

If anyone were talking up there,

I could hear every word that was said.

Sit down.

I was at your wedding, Sylvia,

remember?

Remember when Bart dropped the ring?

He wasn't nervous, he was plastered,

plastered to the gills.

And not because, as you may have thought,

of any lifeguard.

- I don't want to discuss anything...

- Sylvia.

Sit down.

I believe in facing facts.

You married a weakling...

...and he's been subsisting on your strength

ever since.

Thank God Johnny takes after you

and not him.

Now, what are you going to do

about this lifeguard?

You'd better think fast.

It'll be 2 a.m. Before you know it.

Tell me the truth.

Do you think that you can endure

another winter out here with Bart?

Last winter, was he ever sober?

I'll bet he never even got up

for Christmas.

I thought so.

Have you ever considered divorce?

Of course.

But Bart's pride couldn't take that.

And if he insisted on keeping Johnny,

I couldn't take it.

Of course, you and this lifeguard

could have an affair of sorts.

Oh, civilized as possible, you know?

A few lies here and there.

Invented excuses to go to the mainland.

And signing false names in motels.

I wouldn't be any good at that.

Well, then you could probably do

what most people would do.

Drift along.

Have an affair

without actually planning it.

The quick clinches in the nights.

And then the whisperings

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