Plenty Page #8

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As our power declines, the fight among us for access to that

power becomes a little more urgent, a little more ugly, perhaps.

As our Empire collapses,

there is little to believe in.

Behaviour is all.

This is a lesson which

you both must learn.

I must thank you for

your frankness, Sir Andrew.

Not at all.

I must, however, warn you of my plan.

If Brock is not promoted within the next

six days I am intending to shoot myself.

Now, thank you, and I shan't stay for the drink.

I'm due for a reception for Australia Day.

Begley.

I always like to see just

how rude I can be.

Not that the Australians ever notice, so it does

become a sort of Zen sport don't you think?

John, I wonder, could you give me a hand.

If you could take Mrs Brock to the surgery.

Oh, no, people will be waiting for

me at Australia House. I can't let them down.

It will be packed full of angry

people, all searching for me, all saying

"Where where is she? What a let down. I only came

here to be insulted and now there's no chance"

Leave me alone!

I think you have destroyed my husband

you see?

Tea, I think, Miss Simpson.

Begley, will you get

me Raymond Brock's file?

Yes, sir.

You all right, darling?

Yes, fine.

Been out?

To the pictures.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

- Good morning, Margaret.

- Good morning, Mr Brock

Now, I know we're all aching to get away for the weekend but

I'm afraid we're going to have to give this most of the day.

EEC fishing policy:

theory and practice. All right?

So, if we look at

page thirty of the briefing

I beg your pardon, Raymond.

Brock, sir.

Ah, Brock.

I need to talk to you

about the incident yesterday.

Incident?

These are the pension scheme

details you asked for.

Do you want drinks sent in, sir?

What incident is this?

No, it's not going to take long.

I need to ask you to move out of here.

I'm in temporary need of this room.

You can go wherever you like.

And pretty soon also

you're welcome to return.

You'd better tell me what

you've done to your hand.

Well, oh I've been

taking some paper from the walls.

What have you actually done?

You're always telling me

how bad money is for us

you yourself say it it's money

that does it, it's money that rots.

Well, then, isn't this the moment

for one small gesture?

Now what's the best

way to start stripping this room?

Susan. Please. There

is some Nembutal in the desk.

The lease on this

house... what, six years, is it?

It's, it's perfect for Alice

suit her needs all

her homeless mothers.

This place would be just the thing.

If we laid out mattresses

mattresses on the floor by our own hands

of our own free will.

An Iranian vase. A small wooden Buddha.

Twelve marble birds,

copied from an Ottoman king.

What possible

use can they be to us?

Look. Look out the window!

Throw them all away.

Cutlery, crockery, lampshades,

books, books, books

Encyclopaedias, clutter. Meaningless.

A universe of things.

Mosquito nets, golf clubs, china,

marble, glass. Mementoes in stone

What is this sh*t?

What are these godforsaken

bloody awful things?

Your life is selfish self-interested gain.

That is the most charitable

interpretation to hand.

You claim to be protecting

some personal ideal

always at a cost of almost infinite

pain to everyone around you.

You are selfish

brutish unkind.

Jealous of other people's happiness as well, determined

to destroy other ways of happiness they find.

I've spent fifteen years of

my life trying to help you

just trying to be kind.

And my great comfort has been that I

was waiting for some indication from you

some sign, perhaps, that you

valued this kindness of mine.

Some love... perhaps?

Insane.

And yet, I shan't really ever give up.

I won't surrender till

you're well again.

And that, to me, would mean your admitting one thing:

that in the life you have lived, you have utterly failed.

Failed in the very,

very heart of your life.

Admit that, and then you

might really move on.

Which is the braver, to live as I do

or never, ever to face life, like you?

This is the doctor's number, my dear.

With my permission, he can put you inside.

I plan to play as

dirtily and ruthlessly as you.

And this time I'm not giving in.

It's Easter weekend.

The doctor's away.

Susan, please

Susan!

Oh

Raymond

Raymond look at me.

Don't... don't take your clothes

off, whatever you do.

No. 'Course not.

That would spoil it

hopelessly for me.

No, I'm just going

to get my cigarettes.

I roll my own, you know.

Goodness me.

I tell you, there are no

f***ing flies on me.

Do you know how I found you?

Umm?

Through the BBC.

I just happened to catch

that programme, a few months ago.

They told me you were

married and living in London now.

They gave me an address.

No, I left it weeks ago.

Yes, I know. I went round.

I went round and saw the man.

Was he angry?

Angry? No. He just seemed

very sorry not to be with you.

Listen, I have to tell you

I've not always been well.

I have a weakness.

I like to lose control.

And

and I've been letting it happen

well, a number of times.

I did actually shoot someone

about eight years ago.

Goodness me

did you hurt him?

Fortunately, no.

At least, that's what

we kept telling him.

Raymond went round, gave

him some money in notes.

It was after Raymond's kindness

that I felt I had to get engaged.

Why do people...

What?

Marry?

I don't know.

Are you?

What?

No. It's

- Go on, ask me anything at all.

- nothing. I don't want to know.

Do you still see him?

Gracious, no.

I've stripped away everything,

everything I've known.

The only dignity is in living alone.

The clothes you stand in

and the world you can see.

Oh, Susan

Don't. Please, don't.

I want to believe in you.

So tell me nothing.

That's best.

Someone gave me this grass.

D'you want some?

No.

I don't know what I'd expected

what I'd hoped for

at the time I returned.

Some sort of edge to the

life that I lead. Some

some sort of feeling that

their death was worthwhile.

Someday I must tell you

I haven't done well.

I gave in. Always.

All along the line.

Suburb.

Wife.

I work for a corporate bureaucracy as well.

Oh, Lazar, I'm sorry.

I'm just about to go.

I've eaten nothing so I just

go.

I hate this life that we lead.

Oh, God here I go.

Kiss me.

Bonjour, mademoiselle.

Bonjour!

You're looking at the village?

Yes

I've climbed the hill to

have a better view.

I've climbed the hill to

have a better view.

I've only spoken French

for months on end.

You are English? So young!

Just so.

You are glad the war is over, eh?

You will soon be going home?

Yes. At last.

You go to the party for the victory?

Soon, yes, I'm hoping.

I'm very keen to go.

Myself, I work.

The Frenchman works or starves.

Have you ever seen anything

as beautiful as this?

The English have no feeling... yes?

Are stiff

They hide them.

Hide them from the world.

Hah. It's stupid.

Stupid... yes, it may be

but things will quickly change.

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