Behind the Scenes: The End of the Affair Page #5

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None.

- Are you on a new book?

- Of course.

It's not about us, is it?

The one you threatened to write.

A book takes a year to write.

It's too hard work for revenge.

If you knew how little

you had to revenge...

No, I'm joking.

We had a good time together.

I mean, we're adults and...

we knew it had to end sometime.

And now we can lunch

and talk about Henry.

In the old days,

he would have followed.

We would have made up

or made love.

I said to God, as I might

have said to my father...

"Dear God, I'm tired.

I'm tired of being without him.

And it's all because of You."

Dr. Gilbert's appointment.

I'd almost forgotten.

He asked me how I felt.

I said I felt nothing.

There was a stone

where my heart should be.

I need help, Father.

You know, Sarah,

God granted us free will.

Good. So it's settled.

I'm leaving my husband.

- You can't.

- Why can't I? I'm a whore and a liar.

I'm asking Henry for a divorce.

You can't because you're good.

Better than any person I know.

You're wrong, Father,

and you don't know me.

I found a small boy

sleeping on the steps...

with a birthmark

covering his face...

and wondered what kind of God

would give a child that.

Are you lost?

It's all right.

It's all right.

Where do you live then?

- You'll be all right now?

- Yes, ma'am.

I kissed his cheek

and wished I could wash it away.

And suddenly I felt happy again.

I could free myself of this.

I am...

leaving you.

For the last five years...

I have been...

in love...

with Maurice.

I love you.

Do you know that?

Why now, Henry?

Why do you say that now?

I had a drink with Bendrix.

A horrible drink.

I can't do without you.

Oh, yes, you can, I thought.

You changed your newspaper once

and you soon got used to it.

What's wrong, Henry?

Did Bendrix upset you in some way?

I know I haven't been much

of a husband to you, my dear.

We are good friends.

You can do without a friend.

Don't leave me, Sarah.

Stick it out a few more years.

I'll try. I promise.

Is this coincidence?

I wondered.

Or the way life happens?

And if this is life,

am I stuck with it?

But whatever it is...

I can't fight it anymore.

It has won and we have lost.

- Hello?

- Sarah.

She's not here.

I know your voice, Sarah.

Talk to me.

Stop here.

- Thank you.

- Thank you very much, guv.

One, please.

Thank you, sir.

How did you get it?

You had a drinks party last week.

- Yes. That small man.

- Yes.

He is my snoop.

How ridiculous.

It's no more

ridiculous than you.

Why didn't you tell me?

I tried. Each time I tried,

something would happen.

- That's mumbo jumbo, Sarah.

- It doesn't work like that.

Accidents.

Little things.

God is in the details, Maurice.

You can't believe that.

Do you believe in things

you can't see?

- You mean Him?

- I mean you.

You see, I never stopped loving you,

even though I couldn't see you.

My mother baptized me a Catholic.

My father was Jewish,

so we never practiced.

But she always said

she hoped it would take.

Like a vaccination.

I've only made

two promises in my life.

One was to marry Henry...

the other to stop seeing you.

And I'm too weak to keep either.

I know you don't believe in Him...

but try to.

Talk to Him.

I can't.

Tell Him I'm sorry.

I'm too human...

too weak.

Tell Him I can't keep my promises.

I'm tired of being without you.

- Let's get you home.

- I don't want to go home.

I know.

So have we broken the spell?

The world didn't end, did it?

It did, in a way.

But then, it always did.

Can I sleep now, Maurice?

Please let me sleep.

- It's Henry.

- Don't answer it.

Why not? We'll have

to tell him sometime.

- Come away with me.

- Where?

Anywhere. Brighton.

I want a few days peace

before the arguments begin.

- Well, Henry never argues.

- I wasn't talking about Henry.

Pain is easy to write.

In pain, we're

all drably individual.

But what can one write

about happiness?

It doesn't suit you.

And it's mine.

- You want it? There's a price.

- How much?

Can I pay again?

- I want children, you know.

- How many?

- I'll start with one.

- Only one?

You want to start with two?

Is that a promise?

Yes.

Let's get you back to the hotel.

- Just those two.

- Very good, sir.

It is a bit of a mess.

Yeah, you're right.

- Business going well?

- Yes, it's going...

Still on the job?

Don't worry.

- Oh, dear.

- Here. Come with me.

Come. So where's

your boy this time?

I left him at home, sir.

Hardly a wise move. He'd have

had the sense not to get noticed.

You think so, sir?

Perhaps I wasn't cut out for this job.

Tell your employer

the circumstances are unique.

What was your phrase?

The party in question is a writer.

- They notice everything.

- They certainly seem to, sir.

- So who's hired you this time?

- I'm not at liberty to say, sir.

Let me guess. The jealous husband.

I never expected to be

recalled to this case, sir.

Yours is a secure profession.

As long as fools like us love,

your employment never ends.

You could put it like that.

And love never ends, does it?

It seems not.

So what do you need?

Photographs of us

in flagrante delicto?

Copies of hotel bills? Evidence of

soiled sheets? We'd be happy to oblige.

No, my brief is to follow you.

Inform him as to your whereabouts.

Which, of course, you'll do.

I'm obliged to, sir, under

the terms of my employment, posthaste.

Won't you need supplementary evidence?

The divorce courts will demand it.

They generally do, sir,

if it come to that.

Well, Exhibit "A."

Receipt for two sandwiches

bought on the train to Brighton.

Mutual sandwiches are surely

evidence of intimacy, aren't they?

- They could be so construed, sir.

- Exhibit "B."

Two tickets for a Big Dipper.

- You seem to be doing my job for me.

- Yes, but we haven't quite got there.

What would clinch it for us?

What would make

divorce a certainty?

Generally, sir, some kind

of photographic evidence of...

Of intimacy.

Would be most useful, sir,

if it came to such a pass.

It will, Parkis.

It most certainly will.

Here.

I dreamt we had a child.

We will.

We were on the bed together.

The room filled up with water.

There was a child between us.

Why water?

The sea had come in the window.

So you'll marry me.

That's a promise.

The prince regent began building it

for his mistress, Mrs. Fitzherbert.

Beautiful but flawed.

- How was she flawed?

- She was Catholic.

Impossible, of course.

So he loved her.

Yes, but he married Princess Caroline

of Brunswick who was Protestant...

but huge.

And he built this huge folly

to impossibility.

- Not now, Henry.

- Forgive me, Sarah. I had to.

- Oh, God, please. Henry, not now.

- You had to what, Henry?

- Talk.

- Go back home.

- You can't hold on to her forever.

- I know, but...

It hardly suits you, Henry,

the role of a jealous husband.

Please, I don't mean

to make a scene.

Henry, go home.

I'm not jealous, Bendrix.

What was it you said?

Lovers are jealous.

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