A Voyage Round My Father Page #5

Yeah.

Tea, love?

Ta, love.

Sugars, do you?

Ta.

You know, I've been thinking.

Have you, Hilda?

Oh, yeah, Sandra.

I've been thinking.

What about, then, Hilda?

You know what I reckon

this war is all about?

No.

It's just our freedom.

Our freedom to talk

to each other.

Cut!

That was magnificent!

Totally real!

- Thank you.

- Couldn't do that with actors.

Don't you think

that was magnificent?

Totally magnificent.

Listen, lad.

You interested in

the creative side of filmmaking?

Oh, yes.

Yes, of course.

Then go and buy me 20 Player's.

All right.

Now we move in really tight

on Hilda.

[ Typewriter slacking ]

20 Player's, please.

How's the writer's department?

They say I'm not cut out to be

an assistant director.

When I yelled for quiet, all

the electricians went on strike.

[ Laughs 1

They say with me

as an assistant director,

the war would be over

before the film's finished.

DIRECTOR:

Cut! All right, then!

Smoke?

Thanks.

What's the script?

Oh, it's something

Humphrey wants to do.

There's a character in it

called the...

There's a character in it

called the Common Man.

He keeps on saying,

"Look, here, matey,

what is the World Health

Organization?"

Oh, sounds ghastly.

It is, rather.

Why do you bother to write it,

then?

Oh, I suppose...

the school fees.

Oh.

You're studying something?

No, you fool.

It's my kids.

Peter's only got

his captain's pay,

- and I can't possibly afford...

- Peter?

My husband.

He's overseas?

Uxbridge.

In Army Education.

My father always says

that in time of war,

one should avoid the temptation

to do anything heroic.

I think after today,

I'll give up the film business,

take up the law.

My father's a lawyer.

Do you always copy your father?

Good God, no.

Really?

You look the sort

to agree with Dad.

Well, there's one thing he says

I don't agree with.

Oh?

What's that?

He says that sex has been

greatly overrated by the poets.

[Sighs]

They're going to hate me.

Oh, of course they're not.

I must try and do something

about this face.

Oh, yes.

You must.

A bit of war paint

to impress your father.

SON:

It won't impress him.

ELIZABETH:

Thank you very much.

He won't be able to see

what you look like.

My father's blind.

You all right?

Oh, darling.

- Hi.

- Hello.

[ Chuckles ]

All right.

Good. Um...

She's just...

- You must be Elizabeth.

- How do you do?

- We've heard so much about you.

- How's Father?

Come and have a glass of sherry,

Elizabeth.

We usually walk 'round

the garden before dinner.

Straight through.

[ Grunts ]

My tie!

Oh, God, where's my tie?!

Oh! Can't anybody even get me

a waistcoat?

If you only knew the loneliness

of getting dressed!

I'll... I'll go.

Here. Here.

Oh. Thank you.

- Have you...

- Yes, it's me.

I suppose you expect me

to talk about it?

Well, I know it came

as a bit of a shock to you

when Peter divorced Elizabeth.

It must have come a bit of

a shock to you, too, didn't it?

When you found when she was

of marriageable state.

I mean, you're hardly in a state

to get married, are you?

Uh, how long have you been

at the bar now?

Nine months.

Nine months.

I'd been in practice

for 10 years

before I felt the slightest need

to marry your mother.

Well, perhaps needs

weren't so urgent then.

[ Chuckles ] Perhaps.

Uh, see the waistcoat anywhere?

- Yes. Here you are.

- Ah.

Have you got any...

got any work to do?

A little.

A little work.

Unsuccessful defense in serious

case of nonrenewed dog license.

That won't keep you in...

in cleaning powder.

I don't want to be kept

in soap powder.

But you'll have no alternative

once you're married.

Your no-income will be frittered

away on Vim, saucepan scourers,

Mansion polish and children's

vests and suchlike luxuries.

I'm quite prepared to take on

her children.

You sound like a railway train.

Short stop to take on children.

And I... yeah, I think so...

I understand your poor girl's

coming for the weekend.

Uh, we seem to be nowadays

almost submerged in visitors.

I hope you're not going to be

rude to her.

Oh, your poor girl and I

will soon come

to a certain understanding.

Oh, for God's sake.

Why do you keep calling her

my "poor girl"?

That's something

I'll have to explain to her.

[ Chuckles ]

Rhododendrons out?

- Yes, dear.

- Huh?

A fine show of rhododendrons.

And the, uh, philadelphus?

Just out.

Mm? Just out.

[inhales deeply]

And smelling sweetly.

And, uh, is our guest with us?

Yes, dear.

Elizabeth is here.

I've often wondered

about my son...

Does he treat girls well?

Now, why have you wondered that?

Well, I once knew a fellow

called, uh, Arthur Pennyquick.

He was like you in many ways.

- He didn't treat girls well.

- Please, dear.

I don't think Arthur Pennyquick

is quite suitable.

Oh, do tell us.

What did he do to girls?

Well, I was out with him

one evening,

and he... he picked up a girl

in the promenade

of the Alhambra Music Hall,

and, uh,

before he took her away,

he took out his gold cuff links

and gave them to me

for safekeeping...

in front of the girl.

I was so sick and angry.

Disgusting.

[ Sniffs ]

You think

if you sleep with someone,

you should trust them

with your cuff links?

[ Laughs ] Well...

not... not remove them

in front of the girl.

Well, we've seen a fine show

of rhododendrons.

MOTHER:
Yes, dear.

And I showed you the polyanthus.

Yes, yes.

[ Laughs ]

The result

of much laborsome potting up.

Why do you bother?

What?

I said, "Why do you bother to do

all this gardening?"

I mean, when you can't see it.

Elizabeth...

Well, he can't, can he?

Why do you all walk about

pretending he's not blind?

This you?

Yes.

Would you take me down

to the west copse?

I'd like a report

on the magnolia.

Would you do that?

Be my eyes?

Come, then.

MOTHER:

She does have nice eyes.

Yes.

Not at all the eyes

of a divorced person.

If only he could see her,

he'd understand

why I want to marry her.

Oh, he understands that.

I think his main difficulty

is understanding why

she should want to marry you.

When I was a child, the woods

were dark and full of flies,

and we picked bracken leaves

to swat them,

and he told me

we carried cuasses

to hack our way

through the jungle.

I used to shut my eyes

at dead rats

or magpies

gibbeted on the trees...

sights his blindness

spared him.

He walked with his hand

on my arm...

a small hand

with loose brown skin.

From time to time, I had

an urge to pull away from him,

to run into the trees and hide,

to leave him alone,

lost in perpetual darkness.

But then his hand would tighten

on my sleeve.

He was very persistent.

Come over, did you,

in your own little car?

You've been trying to

put him off.

Oh, not at all.

I told him you'd put him off.

He asked for my advice.

And I suppose

you gave it to him.

I never give advice.

Must be quite an asset, having

your own personal transport.

We've made up our minds.

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