The History Boys Page #9

So, I said he's my dad,

and they said I was just the kind of candidate

they were looking for.

Mind you, I did do

the other stuff like...

Stalin was a sweetie

and Wilfred Owen was a wuss.

They said I plainly thought for myself and

was exactly what their rugger team needed.

- Are you not pleased?

- It's not like winning a match.

You see, Miss...

I want to do the stuff I want to do.

I mean, this, I only wanted it

cos the others did, and my dad.

Now I'm in, I just feel like

telling the college to stuff it.

I think that's Mr. Hector.

No, it isn't, Miss. It's me.

(knocking)

- I went round to your college.

- I'm surprised you're interested.

I was kind of lonely.

I wanted to see where you'd been.

- Only no one had heard of you at Corpus.

- I was at Jesus.

- You said Corpus.

- Corpus, Jesus... What does it matter?

I never got in. I was at Bristol.

I did go to Oxford but it was

just to do a teaching diploma.

- Does that make any difference?

- To what? To me?

At least you lied, and lying's good, isn't it?

We've established that. Lying works.

You ought to learn to do it properly.

Anybody else,

I'd say we could have a drink.

Is that a euphemism - a drink?

Saying "a drink" when you

actually mean something else?

- It is, yeah.

- Actually, forget the euphemism.

I'm just kicking the tires on this one,

but further to the drink...

What I was really wondering was,

is there any chance of your sucking me off?

Or something similar.

Actually, that would please Hector.

- What?

- "Your sucking me off."

It's a gerund. He likes gerunds.

And "your being scared shitless",

that's another gerund.

- I didn't know you were that way inclined.

- I'm not.

But it's the end of term, I've got into Oxford.

I thought we might push the boat out.

Anyway, I'll leave it on the table.

I don't understand this.

Reckless, impulsive, immoral.

How come there's such a difference between

the way you teach and the way you live?

Why are you so bold in argument and talking,

but when it comes to the point...

when it's something that's actually happening

- I mean, now you're so f***ing careful.

Is it because

you're a teacher and I'm a boy?

- Obviously that.

- Well, why? Who cares? I don't.

You've already had one master touch you up.

Is that what it is?

It's that you don't want to be like Hector?

Well, you won't be.

You can't be. How could you be?

- Hector's a joke.

- He isn't, you see. He isn't.

- That side of him is.

- Dakin.

- All right. Let's go for a drink.

- Don't take out your sodding diary.

- Maybe next week...

- Next week?

Get this, man -

"You can suck me off next week."

I've heard of a crowded schedule,

but this is ridiculous.

God, we've got a long way to go.

- Do you ever take your glasses off?

- Why?

- It's a start.

- Not with me.

Taking off my glasses

is the last thing I do.

Yeah? I'll look forward to it.

What do you do on Sunday afternoons?

What are you doing

this Sunday afternoon?

I was going to go through

the accounts of Roche Abbey.

It's a... it's a Cistercian house.

It's just to the south of Doncaster.

Only, I think I've just had a better offer.

I think you have.

And we're not

in the subjunctive any more, either.

It's going to happen.

I just wanted to say thank you.

So? Give him a subscription

to The Spectator or a box of Black Magic!

Just cos you got a scholarship

doesn't mean you've got to give him

unfettered access to your dick!

- Well, how would you say thank you?

- On my knees probably, same as you.

I shall want a full report.

- Are you jealous?

- No!

- You're jealous, aren't you?

- No, not of the sex.

Just... of your being up for it.

- Me, erm...

- Oh, write it down.

- Wish me luck.

- What for?

What for?

Dakin? Can I help you?

I've never known such impertinence! Your

scholarship seems to have gone to your head.

- The point I'm making...

- I know the point.

I'm just curious, sir. What's the difference

between Mr. Hector touching us up on the bike

and your feeling up Fiona?

A comparable situation historically

would be the dismissal

of Cardinal Wolsey.

Don't give me

that Cardinal Wolsey sh*t.

Who else knows about this?

Fiona. Erm... Miss Procter.

Mr. Hector to my study, please.

- I might try the army.

- You? You're a shambles!

- They put you through college, pay your fees.

- Provided you kill people afterwards.

We won't go to war again.

Who's there to fight?

I don't know about a career.

I've got to get f***ing out of the way first!

- That goes on.

- Or doesn't.

Now look, everybody.

This is known as Posner's reward.

(laughing and cheering)

Is that it? The longed-for moment?

- Well, what's wrong with it?

- It's too f***ing brief.

I was looking for something

more... lingering.

(all shout) Go on, Stu, go on!

Come on, come on!

(cheering and laughing)

And what's this? Hector's reward?

It's only polite. Just for old times' sake.

- Just don't let him go past the lollipop lady.

- (laughing)

Ready, sir?

- Oh, Dakin.

- Think of it as a gesture, sir.

But I'm not leaving.

I'm coming back next year.

(shouting) That's brilliant!

A boy in a motorcycle helmet? Dakin!

No! No-no-no-no!

Under no circumstances.

Hector, I thought

I'd made this plain.

Take... somebody else.

Take... take Irwin.

- Irwin?

- Sure. Why not?

(laughing and whooping)

Do you want my

Tudor Economic Documents?

F*** off. F*** right off!

(excited shouting)

(tires squeal)

(Dakin) "How does history happen?"

I asked Irwin.

And he couldn't answer.

But now he knew. Nothing special.

Skid on a corner. Ordinary stuff.

Irwin had never been

on the back of a bike before, so...

maybe going around the corner he leaned out

instead of in and so unbalanced Hector.

Trust him to lean the opposite way

to everyone else.

But he had no memory

of what caused it.

I suppose the last thing he remembered

was me asking him out for a drink.

Something we never did, incidentally.

Still, at least I asked him.

And, barring accidents,

it would have happened.

Listen. There is no "barring accidents".

It's what I said.

History is just one

f***ing thing after another.

(# "Bye Bye Blackbird"

by Dixon and Henderson)

# Pack up all my care and woe

Here I go, singing low

- # Bye bye blackbird

- # Blackbird

# Where somebody waits for me

Sugar's sweet, so is she

- # Bye bye blackbird

- # Blackbird

# No one here can love

and understand me

# Oh, what hard-luck stories

they all hand me

- # Love and understand me

- # Make my bed and light the light

# I'll arrive late tonight

# Blackbird, bye bye

# Blackbird, bye bye

If I speak of Hector,

it is of enthusiasm shared,

passion conveyed

and seeds sown of future harvest.

He loved language. He loved words.

For each and every one

of you, his pupils,

he opened a deposit account

in the bank of literature

and made you all shareholders

in that wonderful world of words.

Will they come to my funeral,

I wonder?

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