The Lost Weekend Page #2

DON:

What concert?

HELEN:

Carnegie Hall. Barbirolli conducting.

They gave me two tickets at the

office.

DON:

Who are you going with?

HELEN:

Nobody.

Something flickers in Don's eye.

DON:

What are they playing?

HELEN:

Brahms' Second Symphony, something

by Beethoven, something by Handel,

and not one note of Grieg.

DON:

Sounds wonderful.

HELEN:

Goodbye, boys. See you Monday.

WICK:

Tuesday.

DON:

(Holding Helen by the

arm)

Just a minute. Wick --

Wick looks up.

DON:

I just had a crazy idea.

WICK:

As for instance.

DON:

Who says we have to take the two-

forty-five train? We could go on the

six-thirty.

WICK:

What are you talking about?

DON:

I just thought we could take a later

train and Helen wouldn't have to go

alone to the concert. She's got two

tickets, hasn't she?

HELEN:

No. I'm not upsetting any plans.

You're going on that two-forty-five.

DON:

But Helen, it's so silly! A whale of

a concert and an empty seat next

you.

WICK:

No, Don. Everything's all set. They'll

be at the station to meet us.

Dinner'll be waiting.

DON:

So what? We put in a call that we're

taking the late train, have supper

at nine o'clock, be in bed by ten.

WICK:

Nothing doing. We're going.

HELEN:

Wick's right. And don't worry about

that empty seat. I'll find myself a

very handsome South American

millionaire.

DON:

There. Did you hear her? And now

we'd have to break our necks to catch

the train anyway.

HELEN:

(Looking at her wrist

watch)

Two-twenty.

DON:

See?

WICK:

(Giving up)

All right. Go ahead.

DON:

Wait a minute. I'm not going.

WICK:

Then what are we talking about?

DON:

I want you to go. You and Helen.

WICK:

Me and Helen?

DON:

Yes. That was the idea. Who likes

Brahms, you or I?

WICK:

Since when don't you like Brahms?

DON:

I'll stay right here and finish

packing. Take a little nap maybe.

WICK:

Nonsense. If anybody goes... Helen's

your girl.

There is an exchange of suspicious looks between Wick and

Helen.

HELEN:

There's something in that, Don.

WICK:

What's more, I don't think you should

be left alone.

DON:

I shouldn't?

WICK:

No.

HELEN:

Really, Don.

DON:

Why? I can't be trusted. Is that it?

WICK:

What I meant to say --

HELEN:

Wick.

WICK:

After what Don's been through --

DON:

After what I've been through, I

couldn't go to a concert. I couldn't

face the crowd. I couldn't sit through

it with all those people around. I

want to be alone for a couple of

hours and kind of assemble myself.

Is that such an extraordinary thing

to want?

WICK:

Don't act so outraged, would you

mind?

DON:

All right. Anything else?

HELEN:

Please, boys.

Wick, who has been smoking a cigarette throughout the scene,

throws it out the window. None of the three see, but we do,

that it doesn't fall out the window but ricochets against

the opened casement to the window sill, where it lies

smouldering.

WICK:

Come on, Helen.

HELEN:

You'll stay right here, won't you?

DON:

Where would I go?

HELEN:

Then you'll be here when we come

back?

DON:

I told you I'm not leaving this

apartment.

WICK:

You've told us a good many things,

Don.

Furious, Don takes a bunch of keys from his pocket.

DON:

All right, if you don't believe me,

why don't you take my key and lock

me in like a dog.

HELEN:

(To Wick)

We've got to trust Don. That's the

only way.

WICK:

Sorry, Don.

(To Helen)

Here we go.

HELEN:

So long, Don.

DON:

So long.

HELEN:

(Pulling him by the

lapel)

Bend down.

His face is now close to hers. She kisses him. Wick turns

away. His eyes fall on the cigarette still smouldering on

the sill. He goes toward the window.

Don, held by Helen, watches him tensely. Wick flips the

cigarette into the garden and is about to turn back into the

room when his eyes fall on the cleat and the string. He leans

from the window.

Don lets Helen go, staring at Wick, panic in his eyes. Helen,

sensing something amiss, looks from one brother to the other.

WICK:

(Hauling up the bottle)

What's this, Don?

Helen and Wick watch Don. Don's face relaxes into an innocent

grin.

DON:

That? That's whiskey, isn't it?

WICK:

How did it get there?

DON:

I don't know.

WICK:

I suppose it dropped from some cloud.

Or someone was bouncing it against

this wall and it got stuck.

DON:

I must have put it there.

WICK:

Yes, you must.

DON:

Only I don't remember when. Probably

during my last spell, or maybe the

one before.

His eyes meet Helen's. Hers are infinitely distressed.

DON:

Don't look at me like that, Helen.

Doesn't mean a thing. I didn't know

it was there. And if I had, I wouldn't

have touched it.

Wick has twisted the string off the bottle.

WICK:

Then you won't mind.

DON:

Won't mind what?

Wick, the bottle in his hand, goes through the living room

toward the kitchenette. Don looks after him, then follows

him, a stubborn smile on his lips. Helen trails after them,

acutely embarrassed.

A-3 KITCHENETTE

Wick has stepped to the sink. He opens the bottle, turns it

upside down and lets the whiskey run out. Don and Helen come

to the door from the living room and stand watching. Don has

something of the feeling of a man watching the execution of

a very good friend, but he senses Helen's eyes upon him and

preserves his nonchalant expression. The bottle emptied,

Wick puts it in the sink.

WICK:

Now you trot along with Helen.

DON:

Why? On account of that?

(Pointing at the bottle)

You think I wanted you out of the

apartment because of that? I resent

that like the devil, and if there's

one more word of discussion, I don't

leave on your blasted weekend.

HELEN:

Let's go.

Wick shrugs and goes to the hall for his hat.

HELEN:

(To Don)

Be good, won't you, Don, darling?

She turns to go, but Don holds her back.

DON:

Of course, Helen. Just stop watching

me all the time, you two. Let me

work it out my way. I'm trying, I'm

trying.

HELEN:

We're both trying, Don. You're trying

not to drink, and I'm trying not to

love you.

She kisses him on the mouth, a woman hopelessly in love.

Then, so that he won't see her moist eyes, she turns and

hurries into the entrance hall.

A-4 LITTLE ENTRANCE HALL - BIRNAM APARTMENT

Wick stands, hat in hand, holding the door open. Helen comes

out quickly and taking a handkerchief from her bag, hurries

past Wick into the hall. Wick turns toward Don, who has

followed Helen to the entrance hall.

WICK:

You call the farm, Don. Tell them

we're taking the six-thirty train.

DON:

Sure.

WICK:

So long.

He goes out, shutting the door behind him. Don steps quickly

to the door, presses his ear against it to hear what the two

are saying outside.

A-5 FOURTH FLOOR HALL AND STAIRCASE - APARTMENT HOUSE

It is narrow and simple. There is no elevator. A skylight,

somewhat obscured by dirt and dust, lights the fourth floor

back. Every so often down the stair there is a light bracket,

always burning.

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