Starter for 10 Page #4

It's so good to see you.

It's an actual fact that bees hum

by blowing air through their spiracles.

- Spiracles. It's fascinating.

- I know.

Isn't that fascinating, Michael?

Sorry, I was somewhere else.

So, Brian, is this your first time in Suffolk?

No, I was here once before

on a climbing holiday.

Really?

Isn't it very flat for climbing?

I was misinformed.

- Brian's joking, Rose.

- Oh.

Oh, my God, I love this song.

I lost my virginity to this

on a mime course in Tuscany.

- Yeah?

- Let's set the mood.

Michael and Rose have gone to bed.

No, thanks.

- What's up?

- I just can't smoke.

- You can't smoke?

- No, I've never learned.

Oh, my God, Brian, how can you not smoke?

Smoking's what I do best.

Or second best, anyway.

All right, we'll try a different approach.

On your knees, facing me,

hands behind your back.

Now, I'm gonna blow the smoke

into your mouth,

and you're going to inhale, very deeply.

Understood?

- Nice?

- Very nice.

- Again?

- Please.

Are you sure? It's very strong.

- I can take it.

- Okay, here goes.

You really should exhale now.

This is a terrible idea. Kiss of death.

Remember?

Actually I... I feel a little bit...

Oh, for Christ's sake. Good night, Brian.

Oh, sh*t.

Here it is.

Oh, my God!

Well, hello, Mrs Harbinson.

Brian. You scared me.

Still, I expect you've seen

hundreds of naked women before.

You'd be surprised, Mrs Harbinson.

I've told you before,

please don't call me that.

It makes me feel so old. Call me Rose.

Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs Harbinson?

What?

I said, are you trying to seduce me,

Mrs Harbinson?

No, Brian, I most certainly am not.

No, I know. It's just a quote.

You know, like Mrs Robinson...

I haven't the least intention

of trying to seduce you.

I know.

And I don't want to seduce you either.

That's not to say you're unattractive,

because, obviously,

you've got a beautiful body

for someone of your age.

I beg your pardon!

What's going on down here?

Nothing's going on.

Hello, Mr Harbinson.

What the hell are you talking about?

Nothing. I just came down for a glass of milk

and I bumped into Brian.

Right. I think I'll just head back upstairs.

Brian, where are your trousers?

Well, you can talk, big guy.

Brian, are you... Are you stoned?

No way, man.

I'm so sorry about all this.

We only found out this morning.

Granny fell down the stairs in the night,

and fractured her hip apparently.

We just thought we better go

and see her in hospital down in Dorset.

Mum and Dad set off early this morning.

They send their love, by the way.

They're so sorry you can't be here

for New Year's Eve.

Actually, I bumped into them

in the kitchen last night.

- Really?

- Did they say anything?

- No. Not at all.

- Great.

Listen, Brian, the train's not for six,

seven minutes yet.

Do you mind if I don't hang around?

Of course not.

Hello. Anyone home?

No. Thought not.

Excuse me, come to our demonstration.

- Come to our demonstration?

- Sorry, no thank you.

Protesting on New Year's Eve?

Injustice never rests.

Well, methinks the lady doth

protest too much.

It's from Hamlet. It's a joke.

I think I'll be the judge of that.

- Good Christmas?

- Not really. You?

We're secular Jewish non-Zionist socialists.

We don't really do Christmas.

Right. Sounds a riot.

Why do you think I'm back here?

What's in the bag?

It's New Year's Eve dinner.

Individual chicken pie

and a tin of sweetcorn.

Fasten your seatbelts.

Yeah, except for a souvenir tea towel.

Well,

I hope you had some clothes on.

Socks, shoes, no trousers.

What, and then she chucked you out?

- She didn't chuck me out, Rebecca.

- No?

No. Alice's elderly grandmother

accidentally had a fall down

the stairs and fractured her hip.

- She could've been telling the truth.

- Yeah, of course she was telling the truth.

- I'm sorry.

- It's all right.

Sorry.

So, what are we gonna do tonight?

- Haven't you got a party to go to?

- I think I can skip that.

I've got an individual chicken pie.

Oh. Well, then, how could I possibly refuse?

I'm only flesh and blood.

I've never been very good at

those parties, anyway.

Two hundred drunk students hurling

themselves at each other in a tiny room.

Then at 3:
00 in the morning,

some lager-breathed stranger

trying to rub his face on me.

I think I'm safer here.

So you don't have a... What's the word...

Boyfriend, or partner?

What, comrade?

Not as such.

Never seemed to have

much luck in that department.

I don't know why.

I don't know why, either.

- Brian, are you trying to flirt?

- No.

Then why are you putting on that voice?

Look, I just mean...

I'm sure you could have

a, you know, boyfriend if you wanted one.

I have my amorous moments, I suppose.

Once in a while.

What's this?

It's my notebook. It's...

That's just for jotting down ideas,

bits of poetry.

Brian, you have to promise me something.

Promise me that you will never,

never show me your poetry.

I wouldn't dare, Rebecca.

- Hey, what's the time?

- It's... 11:
56.

We can't start 1986 listening to this moaning.

- We?

- Right.

- Well, I hope you're not too disappointed.

- What?

Stuck here with me instead of blondie.

Rebecca! Of course not. I... Look.

I'd much rather be here.

Is that right?

- Hey, what's the time?

- It's 11:
58.

Two minutes to go.

So, what shall we do to pass the time?

Wait. Hang on a sec, Brian.

What? I'm sorry, was that wrong?

Wrong? No, it's not that. Look.

Happy New Year, Brian.

Happy New Year, Alice.

Alice?

Rebecca.

Rebecca!

Look, it was a slip of the tongue.

What, the tongue you had

down my throat, you mean?

You really are a complete

and utter prat, Jackson!

- I know.

- Christ knows I've met some prats in my time,

but you really do win the award.

Let me help you with that.

Get your hands off of me!

Well, thanks for a memorable evening, Brian.

And have a Happy New Year.

Happy New Year!

- Hello, Brian.

- Hi.

"My heart aches,

and a drowsy numbness pains my sense,

"as though of hemlock I had drunk,

"or emptied some dull opiate to the drains."

Brian.

Stay on afterwards, will you?

"One minute past

and leafy woods had sunk."

Are you experiencing emotional problems?

Emotional problems?

Affairs of the heart, anxieties of

a romantic, or perhaps sexual nature.

And believe me, Brian, I'm finding this

at least as embarrassing as you are.

What makes you ask?

When I interviewed you,

a year ago now, you struck me as

being a particularly passionate young man.

A little incoherent, maybe a little gauche.

Is that fair, do you think?

Go on.

But you also seemed to have

a sincere passion for knowledge

that's missing from some our,

what shall we say,

some of our more privileged students.

And that's why I was

happy to offer you a place

because I knew that

you'd actually fought for it.

But looking at your grades this year,

It seems you're actually

becoming less intelligent.

And that, strangely enough,

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