Dead of Night

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1

Ah, Walter Craig?

How do you do?

You're Eliot Foley?

That's right.

So glad you were able to come.

Let's have your bag and

put the car away afterwards.

It struck me after I telephoned you,

rather cheek on my part

asking a busy architect like yourself

to spend the weekend

with a set of complete strangers.

Not a bit.

We're pretty cramped for space here.

We need at least two more bedrooms.

- And with only one living room?

- Yes, only one living room.

However, we'll go into all that

in the morning, shall we?

- Know this part of the world at all?

- No, I've never been here before...

...not actually.

- Let me take your things.

Fancy you spotting that.

Trained professional eye, eh?

Yes, of course.

We've got several other guests,

so I've put you in the barn,

but don't get worried...

It has central heating

and every modern convenience.

The very words I was going to use.

Listen, I expect they've started tea.

Yes... yes, they have.

Mother, this is Mr Craig.

Oh, I'm so glad you're here.

How do you do?

Well, come along in.

Let me introduce you to the others.

Mrs Cortland.

How do you do?

Dr Van Straaten.

How do you do?

Very pleased to meet you.

- And, er... Mr Grainger.

- How do you do?

- And this is Sally O'Hara.

- How do you do?

You must be tired after your drive.

Come and sit over here by the fire.

I can't tell you how delighted I am

you were able to accept

my son's invitation.

You see we are both

such admirers of your work.

You'd like some tea, wouldn't you?

Do you take milk and sugar?

Milk and sugar, Mr Craig?

You're still there.

So it isn't a dream this time.

I beg your pardon.

As it isn't a dream this time,

I must be going out of my mind.

Of course!

Dr Van Straaten.

You're a psychiatrist.

You always treat me.

You'll treat me now, won't you?

Forgive me,

I don't quite understand the joke.

It isn't a joke. I only wish it were.

I've seen you in my dreams.

Sounds like a sentimental song,

doesn't it?

I've dreamt about you

over and over again, Doctor.

Hardly turns you into a mental case.

After all, recurring dreams

are quite common.

But how did I dream about you?

I've never set eyes on you in my life.

Very likely, you've seen

my photograph in the papers.

That's why my face

seems familiar to you.

I don't think so.

Even if it were, is that any reason why

I should keep on dreaming about you?

After all,

you don't mean anything to me.

There may be an association of ideas.

I may be linked to something

that means a great deal to you.

Such as?

I should have to psychoanalyse you

to find that out.

But it doesn't end there.

You see, everybody in this room

is part of my dream. Everybody.

- Gosh!

- Good Lord, really?

- You're kidding!

- What all of us?

I can only tell you that when I came

into this room, I recognised you all.

Having seen all our photographs in

the newspapers, eh, Dr Van Straaten?

You may have seen me on the sports

page. Motor racing's my line.

And there was one of me once,

in the "Kentish Mercury".

When I was a bridesmaid at

my sister's wedding. You remember?

Oh... But I shouldn't think

you've come across that.

- I've never had my photograph taken.

- Oh, yes, you did dear once.

You know the one.

Naked on a fur rug, six months old.

Good Lord, that's right. I don't think

he'd recognise me, I was much fatter.

Surely, Mr Craig, you might've seen

any of us some time or another.

- In the street or anywhere.

- Yes...

But why should I always dream

about meeting you all together,

here in this room that I've never

been in, in my life, until today?

Mr Craig, can you describe

what happens in your dream?

Well, not in detail,

but it always starts exactly the same

as when I arrived, just now.

I turn off the main road into the lane.

At the bend in the lane,

the house comes into view.

I stop, because I recognise it.

Then I drive on again,

and Foley meets me at the front door.

I recognise him, too.

And then, when I'm taking off my coat,

I have the most extraordinary feeling.

I nearly turn and run for it,

because I know I am going to come

face to face with the six of you.

Well, you've only come face to face

with five of us so far, not counting Eliot.

That's right. Five of you.

There is a sixth person

who comes in later.

Can you describe this late arrival?

- It's an attractive girl with dark hair.

- Is that you can tell us about her?

She comes in quite unexpectedly,

and says something about

not having any money.

- A penniless brunette, eh?

- How romantic.

Do you fall madly in love

with her Mr Craig?

Have you ever told

anyone about your dream?

No, I don't think so.

Not even my wife.

Now I come to think of it,

after I wake,

it never stays in my memory

for more than a few seconds.

And none of it ever comes back to me

until the next time it starts.

In fact, there's no evidence you ever

dreamed this dream at all, is there?

None whatever.

I haven't a scrap of proof.

Personally, I don't need any.

I believe what you say, Mr Craig.

I believe you really have dreamt

about us all.

- So do I.

- And so do I.

- Me too!

- I think I do, too.

I don't question that you have been

subject to a recurring dream,

and no doubt it has a background

vaguely similar to this.

It would be quite enough

to account for your feeling

that you've been here before,

it's quite a common experience.

- And that's all there is to it?

- That's all there is to it!

I must say it's very disappointing

not to be a leading character

in some supernatural drama, after all!

- Cigarettes, anyone?

- You never know...

...perhaps it's like the Red King's dream

in "Alice Through The Looking Glass".

None of us exist at all. We're nothing

but characters in Mr Craig's dream.

That's right, and when he wakes up,

we shall all vanish into thin air.

Dear me, what a morbid notion!

Let's get this straight, Doctor,

you won't for a moment admit

the possibility of foreseeing the future?

Not for a moment.

You'd say I was a pretty ordinary,

down-to-earth person, wouldn't you?

I refuse to commit myself. Why?

When it comes to seeing the future,

something once happened to me

that knocks your theories

into a cocked hat.

Something I'll not forget

to my dying day.

Matter of fact,

it very nearly was my dying day.

Now's my chance. I can't make it!

I can't make it!

Yes, I can...

This is it... Oh! Oh!

How long is it since the crash, Nurse?

Six days?

No, seven, Doctor.

There's no injury to the brain,

I'm certain of that.

His mind cleared completely

this morning.

He asked about the other driver.

I told him he was unhurt.

He slept quite peacefully

for the next two hours.

It's his temperature that worries me.

Let me know at once if it goes up again.

I shall be in number 18.

You're here, Peggy?

All the way from Scotland?

All the way from Scotland.

But... you're not Peggy, are you?

No, I'm awfully sorry.

You've been calling me Peggy for days.

My name's Joyce.

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