Waterloo Bridge Page #5

Darling, you seem to have done it.

WOMAN 1:

Tell us about him.

- When will it be?

- Tomorrow morning.

WOMAN 2:
What's his name?

- Roy Cronin.

Well, Mrs. Cronin, I declare.

- Maybe it'll break out with the rest of us.

- Like the flu.

I'm so happy for you, Myra.

Oh, Vi, you are a darling.

You're all so sweet.

I feel like crying too.

But we haven't got time. Come on, girls.

We're late for the theater. Come on, girls.

Miss Myra,

you're wanted on the telephone.

Thank you.

Hello. Yes.

What?

Oh, no. When?

Oh, that's terrible.

Can't they give you one more day?

You have to...?

Oh, of course, I'll come at once.

I love you.

KITTY:
What is it?

- The orders have been changed.

He's going tonight.

The train leaves in 25 minutes.

I'm going to see him off.

- Going where?

- To Waterloo Station.

You can't.

You won't be back for the show.

- Madame will...

- Sorry.

Myra, please. She'd never forgive you,

never. Don't do it, Myra.

I may never see him again.

(WHISTLE BLOWS)

She's just going, sir.

Excuse me.

Myra!

- Roy!

- Myra!

Roy!

(DOOR OPENS)

KITTY:

Myra.

- Myra, darling.

- Did he leave?

Did you talk to him?

- Didn't you see him at all?

- Just caught a glimpse of him.

Oh, what a shame.

I couldn't get a taxi

and they told me the wrong platform.

Oh, he'll be back.

It'll be all right, Myra.

The war can't last forever.

(DOOR OPENS)

Good evening, Myra.

It's very condescending of you

to come here at all.

She's very unhappy, madame.

Her fianc was called to the front.

I'm not interest in troop movements.

- She was to be married in the morning.

- Nor in social events.

Well, the whole world doesn't

begin and end with a ballet.

My world does.

And while you are with me,

so must yours.

That prescription

no longer applies to Myra.

Oh, don't sack her, madame.

I warned you. You are dismissed.

- I never heard of such unreasonable...

- Be careful, Kitty.

- No, I won't.

- Oh, Kitty.

I'm fed up with her. I've been wanting to

tell her for years. Now I'm going to tell you.

And if you don't like it, you can lump it.

I'm sick of you and your tyranny.

You treat us like a lot of slaves

and call it discipline.

It isn't that.

It's just that you enjoy bullying us.

- Lydia.

- Yes, madame?

Rehearsal tomorrow at 11.

With two understudies.

Good night.

Well, no more ballet for me.

I'm sick of being highbrow with my feet.

You and I, ducky,

are going to get into a revue.

All we've got to do is

to get some manager to put one on.

That ought to be simple.

- Kitty.

- Yes?

- Do you think?

- Occasionally. What?

Do you think he'll write?

(LAUGHS)

Hello. I'm back and I didn't get the job.

Oh, Kitty, you startled me.

KITTY:

Did I? Sorry.

Well, now that I'm all settled,

how about you?

Oh, no luck.

There's nothing there.

It's no use looking.

Well, I had two letters last week.

- I didn't really expect any.

- Uh-huh.

- How about the dress shop?

- Experience needed.

- The tearoom?

- Filled.

Naturally.

But they put me on the waiting list.

That's a comfort, isn't it?

Well, Myra, we're a couple

of howling successes.

- Sitting on top of the world, aren't we?

- You're in a nice mood, aren't you?

No wonder, sitting in the dark,

feeling sorry for yourseIf.

If I don't feel sorry for myseIf, who will?

Trouble with you is, you're hungry.

Give me your hand.

You'll feel better

when you've had something to eat.

Myra.

Yes, Kitty?

You're probably sick of hearing this but,

honestly, why don't you let Roy know?

- That we're out of work?

- That we're broke.

Flat broke. Down to our last tin.

Oh, he'd worry.

Well, better for him to worry

than for us to starve.

Kitty, we're not starving.

Nobody starves.

You mean, people who starve

don't live to tell about it.

I don't know what we're going to do.

We can't get jobs in a show,

we can't get them anywhere else.

If madame were still here,

I'd go to her, pride or no pride...

...but as it is, there's nobody.

Myra...

...I'm frightened.

I've never been frightened before.

I don't like it.

Oh, Kitty.

Perhaps it's seIfish of me

not to let Roy know...

...but I've got a stupid sort of pride

about it.

Let me wait a little while.

Just a little while longer.

Something must turn up,

and if it doesn't, well...

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

It's Mrs. Bassett for the rent.

- Remember, you're rehearsing.

- Oh, yes, that's right.

- Miss Lester?

- I'm Miss Lester.

For you, Miss Lester.

- Thank you.

- Quite all right, miss.

Kitty. Flowers.

- I can't imagine.

- Here, let's see. Put them down here.

Oh, gosh.

Oh, aren't they lovely?

Who do you suppose?

Kitty, it's Roy. It's his handwriting.

Sixteen, 18, 24... Oh.

They must have cost a pound at least.

Oh, enough to buy us food

for a whole week.

"One of my men got leave.

You'll be receiving these through him.

With them I send you all my..."

We, uh... We could sell them to the florist

at the corner and buy ourselves a real meal.

But I don't think you'd favor the idea.

No.

Oh, Kitty. His mother's coming here.

To London?

Yes, listen.

"My mother is snatching a few days...

...from her Red Cross work

and is coming to town to see you.

I know you'll get on well with her.

She's very nice.

In fact, she's quite like me." Ha.

Oh, Kitty, what'll I do?

I can't have her here.

Why not? Let's give her a little party

and open up the last tin.

I'll suggest meeting her somewhere.

For tea, perhaps.

Oh, but, Kitty, imagine. His mother.

I'm awfully nervous at meeting her.

I wonder...

What, you funny love-struck infant?

I wonder if she'll like me.

Well, she better,

or we won't invite her at all.

- Myra, you're trembling.

- Kitty, don't you see...

...that meeting her

would be like seeing Roy again.

You've been such a darling to me.

And now perhaps

I'll be able to repay you.

You know...

...I have a feeling that from now on...

...everything's going to

take a turn for the better.

I'm sure it is.

- One?

- No, there'll be another one later.

- Is there a table by the window?

- I think so.

Oh, no, thank you. I'll wait for my friend.

She's Lady Margaret Cronin

and I'm Miss Lester.

If she should ask for me,

direct her to me here.

Certainly.

What time is it, please?

- It's 10 minutes to 5, miss.

- Thank you.

- Your friend seems to be held up.

- Yes.

Sure you wouldn't like a cup of tea?

No, thank you.

I'm sure she'll be here any minute.

- Care to look at the evening paper?

- Oh, thank you.

Feeling better, miss?

Here, take another sip.

Feel faint, don't you?

You did give us a fright.

Wouldn't you like to go to the restroom...

...and lie down a bit?

- No, l...

I'd rather stay here, if you don't mind.

Better take another drop of this, then.

Better?

Sure?

Yes, I'll be all right.

Sit quiet and rest.

And if your friend doesn't turn up,

we'll call a taxi.

Are you Miss Lester?

Yes.

I'm Margaret Cronin, Roy's mother.

I'm afraid I've kept you waiting.

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