Plenty Page #3

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It's absolutely open bloody provocation.

I'm sorry, I'm lost. Why's he so angry?

- He's a revivalist.

- What?

- A revivalist...

- Revivalists are peop... sorry. Please.

There are two schools of thought. The revivalists;

they say you can only play music the way it sounded

originally in New Orleans.

For them, nothing happens after 1919.

That saxophone

it's unforgivable.

- Ah!

- Should be a clarinet.

Me, I'm mainstream I don't care.

Susan, I think that's Alistair

you know, the one who's supposed

to have hair on his shoulder blades

and apparently can crack

walnuts in his armpits.

Oh, well, he'll never be short of friends.

I'm going to go and find out.

I don't know why you pretend to

be so enthusiastic. You don't like jazz.

I do! I'm grateful for

anything that's got a bit of life to it.

- Compared to work!

- Well, exactly.

Charlie Ventura!

It's their names that I like.

Oh, I see.

"Down by the riverside,

Down by the riverside"

Did we order this?

You don't order here.

If you need someone younger

I'm sure I can help you.

Oh, I don't like young men. You're through

and out the other side in no time at all.

- That's the fun of it.

- Yes. I've noticed your flair for agonised young men.

I think you get them in bulk

from tuberculosis wards.

Do you think this place is all right?

It's wonderful.

It's only three hours till

I'm back on the boat.

Do you hate my living with Susan?

No. What makes you say that?

Men are threatened by friendship

between women. They fear our mystery.

Read it in a book.

Well somehow I think I can cope.

- Are you very rich?

- No, not really.

I just have a talent for the Stock Exchange.

Money sticks to my fingers. I triple my income

- what can I do?

- It must be very tiresome.

Hm. I'm acclimatising, you know.

I think everyone's going to be rich very soon.

Once we get over the effects of the war,

it's going to be coming

out of everyone's ears.

- Is that what you think?

- I'm absolutely sure.

I do enjoy these weekends, you know.

Susan leads such an interesting life.

Books, conversation, people like you

The Foreign Office can

make you feel pretty isolated

also, to be honest, can make you

feel pretty small. You can imagine

- Yes.

- till I met Susan.

The day I met her, I realised you must always do what

you want. If you want something, you must get it.

I think that's a wonderful

way to live... don't you?

I do.

You all right, darling?

Shall we go home?

In a minute.

Oh, Alice!

Alice, I'm sorry, I meant to ring you.

- Why?

- I can't come on your boat.

Oh, Susan!

Medlicott's left me in charge

while he goes off to "goff", as he calls it.

But we've got it for the whole day.

We're gonna go up to Kew.

Well, I hope he trips over his sticks.

He sits there every day, staring at me.

I know he's longing to leap across the desk and

rub his wretched old body all over my ledgers.

He wants to take my ears and squeeze them against

his great thick tweeds until they bleed.

God! It would be something.

At least it would be something.

Oh, God, Alice. I need to move on.

Then do. Why all the drama? Just go.

I do it all the time. The trouble is, I go

before people even notice I've come.

But you could make an impact.

No, it's not that.

I asked because I thought

it might cheer you up a bit.

But I want to change everything

and I don't know how.

Shall I tell you how my book begins?

Well

There's a woman in a rape trial,

and the story is true

and the book begins at the moment

where she has to tell the court

what the accused has said to

her on the night of the rape.

And she finds that she can't bring

herself to say the words out loud. So

the judge suggests she write them down on a piece of paper

and it be handed round the court...which she does.

And it says:
"I want to have you"

" I must have you now."

So

so the jury all read it and pass it on.

At the end of the second row there's a woman jurist

who's fallen asleep at the boredom of the trial,

so the man next to her has to nudge her awake

and hand her the slip of paper which he does.

She wakes up and she

looks at it then at him

she smiles and puts it in her handbag!

Cheese omelette!

Made from powder, I'm afraid.

That woman is my heroine!

Yes, well

Well at least it's a three-spoon omelette.

Sod this stuff!

How am I meant to have any artistic bloody insight

when I can't get any halfway decent drugs?

It's because I'm the only bohemian in

London, people take advantage of me.

Perhaps one day Raymond will be posted

to Morocco bring some back in his bag.

I don't think that's really on.

Nobody would notice, from what you say.

- No-one else eating?

- Are they not very sharp?

The ones I've met are buffoons.

- Susan, please.

- Well, it's you who calls them buffoons.

That man Darwin how he needs three young men from

public schools to strap him into his surgical support

I told you that in confidence!

in gloves.

Really?

- Darwin is not a buffoon.

- From your own lips!

He has slight problems of

adjustment to the modern age.

You are laughing.

I'm not laughing.

There is a slight smile at

the corner of your mouth.

No, there is not. There

is absolutely no smile.

Alice, I will paraphrase it.

Let me paraphrase Raymond's view of his boss.

It is, in paraphrase, in sum that he would not

trust him to stick his prick into a bucket of lard.

Well, is he a joke, or is he not?

Certainly he is a joke.

- Thank you.

- He's a joke between us.

He is not a joke to the entire world.

I think perhaps I'd better push off.

I wish you would stop using those words.

What?

Words like "push off".

You're always saying it.

"Bit of tight corner" "One hell of a spot".

They don't belong.

- What do you mean?

- They are not your words.

- Well, I'm none too keen on your words, either.

- Oh, yes... which?

- The words you've been using this evening.

- What... such as?

- You know perfectly well.

- No... come on, tell me, what words have I used?

Words like "bucket of lard".

I don't know why

you let her live with you.

I like her.

She makes me laugh.

I'm sorry. I was awful. I apologise.

But the work I do is not

entirely contemptible.

Of course our people are dull.

They're stuffy, they're death.

But what other world do I have?

I think of France more than I can tell you.

I often think of it.

- I'm sure.

- People I met for only an hour or two.

Great kindnesses. Bravery. The fact that you

could meet someone for an hour or two

see the very best of them

and then move on.

Can you understand?

- Susan

- I think that we should try a winter apart.

I really do. I think it's all a bit

easy this way. These weekends

nothing is tested. A test would be good.

And what better test than a winter apart?

A winter together.

I would love to come to Brussels,

you know that. I would love to come

if it weren't for my job.

The shipping office is very important to me.

I do find the work fulfilling.

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