The Night Watch Page #3

or I'll put you on manning

the damn telephone.

Loose lips.

It's for your own

good, Langrish.

You'll pull that once

too often one night.

I need a mortuary run.

Who's not done it this week?

Mother and three kids.

No survivors,

Parkside Road.

After identification, take

them to the local mortuary.

Err, I'll go with Hughes.

Maybe you are a bloody hero, letting

O'Neill off the hook that way.

If you're a good boy,

I'll let you drive.

SIREN RINGS:

Direct hit on a shelter.

We think there's four kiddies.

More limbs than we

can account for.

Genie!

Genie!

SCREAMING:

What on earth have

you done to yourself?

Why do you have to go

out there every night?

No-one would think the worse

of you if you didn't. I would.

SHE SOBS:

You should get some sleep.

I'll sleep when I'm dead.

GUARD APPROACHES

OK in there?

What could I say?

He obviously thinks

I'm your sister.

Or your lodger.

You're my spoils

of war, my darling.

Hello, stranger.

You remember Julia?

We bumped into her at that

Red Cross do at Christmas?

Of course, yes. Hello.

Your hair's different.

I like it.

Do you work round here?

Town Hall, housing department,

relocating bomb victims. And you?

Helping survey

bomb-damaged buildings.

Speed up reconstruction if and

when this bloody war ever ends.

I suppose you're still doing your

trusty ambulance bit every night?

Gets lonely, doesn't it?

How's the writing?

Seems irrelevant, frankly.

Not to say pointless.

So many terrible things

going on in Europe.

People still need

entertaining, don't they?

Somewhere to escape,

now more than ever.

Which way do you, err...

? Lavern Road.

We must meet up for lunch

sometime, since we're close by.

I'd like that.

Good seeing you again, Kay.

Why will you never talk about

what went wrong between you?

SHE LAUGHS NERVOUSLY

You always change the

subject, don't you?

It was a misaffection, that's all.

What we felt for each other

wasn't entirely equal.

That's how I know

it's right between us.

SHE RETCHES:

Oh, it's little Miss Pearce!

Shift up ladies,

make room for her.

We girls are all

law breakers, love.

You're no better

than the rest of us.

All I'm saying is, give

a man a decent job,

a decent home, he'd get the

point of pacifism soon enough.

So where are you on

pacifism, Pearce?

Not given it much thought.

There we are!

The less we think about war,

the less we question it, the

more compliant we become.

Mr Mundy! Help us out here.

Enlighten us

as to why the prison

system won't let us

read newspapers or

listen to the wireless,

or anything which might

actually inform or educate us?

You know why, lad.

Because hearing from the outside

just stirs you all up.

In other words, denying us the

right to form our own opinions

makes us easier

for you to manage?

You have a grievance, Mr Fraser,

take it up with the governor.

Or better yet, Mr Churchill.

All right, son?

Give me an honest sadist than

a hypocrite like him any day.

He's better than most of them.

And kinder.

To the pretty ones, he is.

LAUGHTER:

DISTANT SINGING:

Run rabbit, run

rabbit Run, run, run

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Goes the farmer's gun

Run rabbit, run

rabbit Run, run, run

Run rabbit, run

rabbit Run, run, run

Don't give the farmer

his Fun, fun, fun

He'll get by Without

his rabbit pie

Run rabbit, run rabbit...

Tastes like battery acid.

That's quality contraband

gin, I'll have you know.

So it hasn't got you down yet?

Living in the shadows?

The pretence to be someone

you're not every waking second?

This from the women

who used to say living

outside the social

order was intoxicating.

After the war, I'm tempted

to chuck in the whole game.

Find myself a nice chap, push out a

couple of kids while I still can.

After the war things

will be different.

We will be used to

independent women.

All the old prejudices

will be gone...

They need us to be independent NOW

to drive their damn ambulances,

work in their factories!

Come the peace,

they'll have us back

in aprons, you'll see.

I for one do not

intend to win the war

and lose the peace.

I have too much to lose.

Looking like a man doesn't

give you the same rights, Kay.

DOOR BELL RINGS:

Oh! Take that lot through.

Kay, glasses.

Excuse me.

I saw Julia today.

We're meeting for

lunch on Friday.

You don't mind, do you?

Why should I?

Say if you do - I'll

make up an excuse.

I don't mind, really. Just remember,

fiction is her speciality.

WAILING:

SOBBING:

Hope you like rabbit.

Is it really rabbit?

My neighbour claims they're

running wild all over London.

He says he saw one on a platform

at Victoria Station the other day.

Apparently it was

fearfully het up.

Kept looking at its pocket

watch, saying it was late!

Things are going well for

you and Kay, are they?

VOICES APPROACH:

God!

This passion everyone

has now to parade

around in uniforms

even off duty,

as if war gives them some

status they otherwise lack.

They're just proud

to wear them, surely?

I have a tendency

towards cynicism.

It used to drive Kay mad.

I should be more generous

and well-adjusted, like you.

Me? Well-adjusted? Hardly.

You seem to handle the whole

grisly L business pretty well.

I mean, I never really thought

about it before I met Kay.

It just never...

occurred to me.

If you ever need company when Kay's

off doing her ambulance thing,

I'm in the book.

I know how lonely

these nights can be.

I'll remember that.

Thanks.

I've enjoyed this,

it's made a nice change.

I'd forgotten how

underrated the word nice is.

We've seen your twat, Chase!

And it was as black as a hat!

She can't answer, she's got

her gob round Evan's knob!

Doggy-style!

SHOUTING:

Shut it!

MAN SINGS:
# I see her tripping

where the bright streams play

Happy as the daisies

that dance on her way

Many were the wild notes

her merry voice would pour

Many were the blithe...

God, I wish I had

a girl right now.

To touch her...

Sweet Jesus.

Pearce?

Are you awake?

Pearce?

God, you're a

pathetic specimen.

You were dreaming.

I could see it in your face.

Of me, I hope.

You look just like when I first

held you in that dreadful place.

I have something for you!

You spoil me. You wait

till the war is over.

My life will be dedicated

to making you happy.

The buttons are real bone, see?

I had your initial

put on them...

Try it on!

How glamorous you look.

Like Greta Garbo!

Sorry, damn tube's up the spout.

Before I forget.

It's too big, Reggie.

It's only for show, isn't it?

Remove your shoes

and your skirt

and your underthings,

Mrs Harrison.

And sit back in the seat.

Right back.

I must ask, when you leave, to put

a handkerchief over your mouth,

give the impression you

were here for dental work?

The war has made everyone

so suspicious these days.

Legs apart.

Try not to tense up.

So, then... Deep breathes.

Here you are, sir, the Devon Hotel.

Cheers, thanks.

Let's get you inside.

Bloody shyster, trying to

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