The Killing of Sister George Page #2

- Don't you be too sure.

Applehurst is more than a village.

It's a way of life.

It doesn't depend on individuals.

Belt up, George. You talk as if it was real.

It is real, to millions of people.

Much more real than you, or I, or any of us.

There's many a stone in that churchyard.

Maybe to some people. I don't know.

- Who have you been drinking with?

- Drinking?

- Miss Whiplash came in from over the road.

- I thought you didn't like her?

- I don't. She was looking for you.

- Was she?

Anyway, don't call her Miss Whiplash.

Her name is Thaxter. Betty Thaxter.

Bet that's not what she calls herself

in those crummy little paper shops.

"Miss Whiplash, Corrective Therapy. "

Probably more like it.

Too rich for your blood, eh?

You're a prude, you know.

And what's more, you're a hypocrite.

That's what you are. A hypocrite.

Because I don't happen to get on

with a common prostitute?

I would say that Betty Thaxter

was an exceedingly uncommon prostitute.

- She enjoys her work, does she?

- I've never discussed it with her.

But anyone who succeeds in being kept

in the manner that Betty's accustomed to...

and manages to have a bit on the side...

could hardly be described

as a common prostitute.

A bit on the side?

- I believe that's the expression, yes.

- I think it's rotten.

If she's got someone to pay

for a place like that...

the least she could do is be faithful to him.

I'm delighted to hear you say so.

Where were you

when I phoned you at the office?

Told you. Mr. Katz gave us the day off.

It's a Jewish holiday.

Really? What holiday?

I don't know.

Feast of the contamination or something.

He hasn't been having another go at you,

old Mr. Katz, has he?

No, I never said he'd had a go at me

in the first place.

- Yes, you did.

- I didn't.

I may have said he fancied his chances.

How do you know he fancied his chances

if he hadn't had a go at you?

I meant he's that sort of person, that's all.

You mean the suave,

ladykiller type, do you?

That's what the other girls tell me.

If that's what he's like,

why hasn't he had a go at you?

He just hasn't, that's all.

If he had, I'd tell you.

I wonder.

Nobody ever tells me anything.

That's because you always make

such a stupid fuss about things.

All right, then, I won't make a fuss.

I promise.

- But tell me.

- Tell you what?

About Emmanuel bloody Katz, of course.

We're not talking

about your other boyfriends, are we?

How would I have any other boyfriends

with you breathing down my neck?

Thank you.

We all know what happened when

I wasn't there to look after you, don't we?

That's not fair.

- All right, but tell me about Mr. Katz.

- There's nothing to tell!

I thought he was promoting you

to the showroom? That'll be some show.

Modelling all that rubbish

they turn out down there.

But he is.

Don't tell me he's doing that for nothing.

Don't tell me he doesn't want anything

in return.

- Like what?

- You know bloody well like what.

I can just see him sitting there...

squirming, twirling his little moustache.

You've never even seen him.

Anyway, what's so unusual

about a moustache?

Men do have them, you know.

What's that supposed to mean?

Nothing.

Don't tell me he hasn't touched you.

- No, he hasn't.

- Don't lie to me, Childie.

- I'm not lying.

- Then why are you avoiding my eyes?

Because...

George, you're impossible.

Don't throw tantrums with me, young lady.

Come out this instant.

I can't.

- Can you hear me, Childie?

- No.

I have Emmeline here.

And if you don't

come out of the bathroom at once...

I'm going

to pull Emmeline's precious little head off.

Monster.

That's better. Now apologize.

- What for?

- For causing me unnecessary aggravation.

- I'm sorry.

- You don't sound sorry.

George, I know you're worried

and everything, but...

Don't be cheeky. Don't answer back.

- George.

- Has Mr. Katz had a go at you?

- No.

- Don't you screech at me.

Why shouldn't I? It's not my fault

you're going to lose your bloody stupid job!

- I'm sorry.

- Are you?

Are you really?

This time an apology

isn't going to be quite enough, is it?

What do you want me to do?

You know very well what I want you to do.

Down.

Sit.

Stay.

You know the drill.

- What do we do now?

- I show my contrition.

- How?

- I eat the butt of your cigar.

That's right.

- Must I?

- You know the rules.

Come on.

You're spoiling it for me.

You're trying to spoil it.

What? Stop eating this delicious cigar?

You're deliberately trying to spoil it.

Stop it.

Alice.

You know, once you've spoilt something...

you can never make it work again.

You know that, don't you?

I don't have to do anything I don't want to?

No, you don't.

- I'm going out.

- George.

I thought you... Don't you want to...

I mean...

I don't need you, Childie.

Just remember that.

I don't really need you.

I told her, didn't I?

If she goes with blokes like that,

she's going to end up a right old scrubber.

Do you know what that stupid cow

turned around and done?

- I know, you told me.

- She gave him the keys.

Yeah.

Is Betty at home?

- She's in.

- Thanks.

She's free. At the moment.

Up and down the stairs every five minutes.

Come in.

- Hello.

- Hello, June.

I'm awfully sorry.

I didn't know you had anyone with you.

You look just like you do on the telly.

- You know Marlene, don't you?

- No. I don't.

She's what you might call my understudy.

I see. How do you do?

She's always talking about you,

Miss Buckridge.

- Nothing detrimental, I hope.

- No, honest.

We're both regular viewers, aren't we, Betty?

It's jolly nice to hear.

You never know these days.

I was just telling Betty the other day

how you were my favorite.

When she told me

you were a friend of hers...

you could've put me on me back

with a feather.

It doesn't take much more than that

at the best of times, does it?

Do you want a cup of tea,

or would you rather have a drink?

A drink, please.

- Tonic?

- No, not today.

It's ever so real, that program.

That girl, Rosie, she doesn't half carry on.

Like last week,

when you tore her off a strip...

for carrying on with those soldiers

from the army camp.

Yes.

She's a real handful. Thanks.

She's a real handful, Rosie.

Mind you, she's not a bad girl.

It's just that she's irresponsible.

Absolutely irresponsible.

That's just how she seems.

As a matter of fact...

I think I can let you in to a little secret

about next Thursday's program.

I find Rosie...

behind her dad's barn...

with one of those gypsy chaps

who's been camping on the common.

Rotten little scrubber.

You do get fierce sometimes

when you're telling people off.

Like when Dr. Williams came

to perform an operation...

and he'd been drinking again.

I really thought

you was going to make him cry.

But then he told you about

the trouble he'd been having with his wife...

and you were ever so sympathetic,

weren't you?

Don't you think you'll be a little late

for your appointment for cocktails?

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