Sleepwalker Page #2

Well, I did once get sent a book

I thought he might have had a hand in.

It was a thriller...

...about a woman who has a dream

about peeling tomatoes.

Then, when she wakes up,

...she's sliced her husband to bits

with a carving knife.

I think we've heard enough now.

How horrible!

What made you think it was Alex?

Did you recognise the style

or something clever?

Style, Richard?

Translators don't have style.

- Oh, no. I recognised the incident.

- Marion!

No! Things like that you don't forget.

And then there was the other stuff.

The technical detail.

Alex's little obsession.

Russian expert.

German expert.

But particularly well up

on sleepwalking.

Amazing, isn't he?

He tried to strangle me once.

In his sleep, of course.

- You're joking!

- No, you wouldn't believe it!

Barking like a dog.

We were in a helicopter once.

Kept telling me to look at the view.

Oh, shut up!

Your roots are here, aren't they?

Only one thing has roots

and that's a vegetable.

Oh, shut up, Richard!

Marion?

What?

I'm sorry.

What did you say?

We were just saying,

it's so quiet after London.

But if your roots are here, it's...

It's easier to adjust.

I don't have roots here.

Well, what I mean is

that I wasn't born here.

But yes, we did move here

when I was 13.

All but Alex, anyway.

So, yes.

You're right, Angela, really.

It's just that...

Well, we'd only been here six months

when father dumped us.

I haven't seen him since.

Pissed off to Africa.

About a century too late.

He does write, though.

No, actually...

Actually, I don't mind London.

- I don't mind it at all.

- Damn right!

Big pond for big fish.

It's the only place to be

in this country.

Money.

Massive unemployment.

Marvellous!

I'll drink to London!

Massive unemployment,

do you think that's good?

Of course it's good.

Bloodletting, isn't it?

Sucking the poison

out of the system.

Dog eat dog.

If you can't go to work, go to hell!

You're not serious.

Deadly.

Don't you know your own history?

He's actually thinking very carefully

of going into politics.

Have you the remotest idea

what you are talking about?

Alex!

Oh, I don't suppose it will be the unions

who sweep you to power.

So, have you joined

the Conservative Party?

Are you on the branch committee?

Have you been canvassing

for the last ten years?

What's your record

as a local councillor?

Ah, don't tell me!

You haven't even bothered

to stand yet!

Politics?

You know nothing about it!

I know nothing about it, huh?

You know what you are, don't you?

You're the meat eater

who can't bear the blood.

And do you know what's put

all that flab on your conscience?

Blood!

Hundreds of years of it.

That's bought you your little nest

to get squeamish in.

- You're a pimp, Alex. You're a kept man.

- I'm a democrat.

You're a bloody pimp,

a bloody little pimp who thinks...

...all prostitutes ought to be virgins.

I'll gel the bill.

Don't get up!

Oh... I'm sorry.

Bit too much to drink, I'm afraid.

But you will still stay, won't you?

Oh, well, of course, darling.

Of course.

Of course.

- What were you saying about Alex?

- Did you ever feel...

Mind you, it sounds a bit odd, but...

Did you ever feel

you were part of someone else's dream?

Right!

- I hope we haven't upset Alex.

- Oh, forget Alex!

- I hope he's not going to drive.

- Oh, hurry up.

Alex! The keys!

You're not going

to let him drive, are you?

No.

What was the tip?

- I'll spoof you for it.

- Don't be offensive!

- Did Maude ever tell you that story?

- What story?

- About the Colonel there.

- No.

Ah, you know,

he always insisted on Maude.

And one night

she put a bottle of port on his table.

Years ago now.

The old beggar drank the whole lot.

So, she asked him,

...had he managed to drink

a whole bottle of port on his own?

"No", he said,

"I didn't drink it on my own.

"I had the help of a bottle of Madeira."

Hey. Damn cheek.

Damn! Not again!

Oh, just the bulb, thank God!

I'll get some wood.

Drink, anyone?

We're leaving. Now!

- Richard, we promised!

- You promised!

Oh, no. You agreed, remember?

Marion asked you, didn't she?

Specifically, as I recall.

- What's that supposed to mean?

- Look...

...I spent a long time in hospital

when you were away.

If it hadn't been for Marion...

She was very good to me.

She was a friend, and I promised.

Now, we can leave in the morning.

We will. I want to.

One night in this place!

God knows how those two stick it!

It's convenient.

It was left to them.

- And they fight like cat and dog.

- Well, don't they always?

- What?

- Brother and sister, fight. I know I did.

Brother and sister?

God! Ha! I can't believe it!

Look, I'm going to give Marion a hand.

My God, Marion!

I had no idea!

You must let me do something.

It's terrible.

It's quite terrible.

Poor Marion!

Let Alex do it.

It's his bloody fault.

It's all his bloody fault.

Poor Alex!

Bastard!

Bottoms up!

Quite!

Come in, Angela.

And, er... what's all that in there?

Von Kleist's stuff of Alex's.

German dramatist.

Death, rot, misery.

Right up his street.

The corpse of Monsieur Valdemar.

- Do you know that story?

- No.

- No.

- Jolly funny.

Edgar Allan Poe.

They keep someone alive

by hypnotising him...

...just before he conks out.

Stays that way for months.

Then they think better of it.

- What happens?

- He decomposes, darling.

Right before their eyes.

A loathsome mass

of detestable putridity.

Just like life, really.

- Let's have another drink.

- Marion.

I keep thinking...

what you said at dinner about Alex.

Oh, forget it.

No, Marion.

Can't you do something?

See a specialist or someone?

Oh, but we did!

It was fascinating!

I was just telling Angela, darling,

...about our little business

with the psychiatrist.

Marion.

Have another drink, Alex.

Ever such a helpful man,

the psychiatrist.

Deep-rooted trauma, he said.

All the result

of a deeply insecure childhood.

And that was bloody Alex.

Well, he never got round to me.

Would have been twice the price.

Still...

It's not all a bed of thorns, is it?

You are a b*tch!

And you're the dog.

You're the dog.

And you can piss off!

You're just a guest in this house,

remember?

Well, that's a matter

for some debate.

God, I hope there's a lock

on his bedroom door.

Oh, don't worry about him.

He takes sleeping pills now.

Let's have some music.

Wonderful!

You found the tape!

This leaves me cold.

It's bedtime for me.

Aren't you glad you stayed?

I won't stop, Richard.

I don't.

I'm not a prick teaser.

Well... that's good.

But Alex says I am.

He says I'm cold.

I'm cold, Richard.

You really must excuse me.

I've got to be going to bed.

Someone walking over your grave?

Don't worry, I'm not dead yet.

- I'm glad to hear it.

- Are you?

"I'm not a prick teaser, Richard."

I heard it all, you know.

"I'm cold." Cold!

F***ing freezing!

You know, she's absolutely crazy.

I feel sorry for her.

I feel sorry for both of them.

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