Betrayal

by

HAROLD PINTER.

Betrayal

by

Harold Pinter.

TRANSLATION

SCENE 1

1977

Bar. Spring. Evening. London.

EMMA is sitting on a chair in the right corner. JERRY approaches her carrying drinks: a pint of beer for himself, a glass of wine for her. JERRY sits down. They smile, toast silently, and drink. JERRY settles back and looks at EMMA.

JERRY: Well...

EMMA: How are you?

JERRY: Very well.

EMMA: You look well.

JERRY: Well, actually, I'm not that well.

EMMA: Why? What's the matter?

JERRY: The hangover! (Raises his glass) Cheers...!

(Drinks.) How about you?

EMMA: I'm fine. (Looks around, then at JERRY.) Just like old times.

JERRY: Hmm. It's been many years.

EMMA: Yes. (Pause) I was thinking about you the other day.

JERRY: Good Lord. Why? (EMMA laughs) Why?

EMMA: Well, sometimes it's nice to remember. Don't you think?

JERRY: Absolutely. (Pause) How's everything?

EMMA: Not bad, actually. (Pause) Do you know how long it's been since we last saw each other?

JERRY: Well, I went to that private view... when was it?

EMMA: No, I don't mean that.

JERRY: Ah, you mean alone?

EMMA: Yes.

JERRY: Uh-huh...

EMMA: Two years.

JERRY: Yes, about two years ago. Mmm. (Pause) EMMA: A long time.

JERRY: Yes, a long time... (Pause) And how's everything? The gallery...

EMMA: How do you think it is?

JERRY: Fine. Very good, I'd say.

EMMA: I'm glad you say so. Fine, really very good. I like it.

JERRY: They're funny, aren't they? Painters...

EMMA: They're not funny at all. JERRY: No? What a pity! (Pause) How's Robert?

EMMA: When did you last see him?

JERRY: Haven't seen him for months. I don't know why. Why?

EMMA: Why what?

JERRY: Why are you asking when I last saw him?

EMMA: Out of curiosity. How's Sam?

JERRY: Judith, you mean.

EMMA: Yes?

JERRY: Remember what we used to do? I'd ask you about your husband, and you'd ask me about my wife.

EMMA: Yes, of course. How's your wife?

Very well. (Pause)

EMMA: Sam must be... very tall by now.

JERRY: He is tall. Quite tall. He runs a lot. He likes running long distances. Wants to be a zoologist.

EMMA: No, really? How lovely. And Sarah?

JERRY: She's ten now.

EMMA: Good heavens. Of course, she is. JERRY: Yes, ten. (Pause) Ned's five, isn't he?

EMMA: You remember well.

JERRY: Well, I would remember that. (Pause) EMMA: Yes. (Pause) You're all right then, anyway...

JERRY: Oh... yes, of course. (Pause)

EMMA: Do you ever think about me?

JERRY: I don't need to think about you.

EMMA: Oh...

JERRY: I don't need to think about you. (Pause) Well, I'm fine anyway. How about you?

EMMA: Fine. Really very well.

JERRY: You look very pretty.

EMMA: Do I? Thanks. It's good to see you.

JERRY: You too. I mean, see you.

EMMA: Do you think about me sometimes?

JERRY: Sometimes I do think about you. (Pause) I saw Charlotte the other day.

EMMA: No... Where? She didn't say anything.

JERRY: She didn't see me. In the street.

EMMA: But you haven't seen her for years.

JERRY: I recognised her.

EMMA: How could you? How could you tell?

JERRY: Well, I just recognised her.

EMMA: What did she look like?

JERRY: Like you.

EMMA: No, seriously. What did you think of her...?

JERRY: I thought she was lovely.

EMMA: Yes, she's very... She's stunning. She's thirteen. (Pause) Do you remember that time... when, oh dear... when you used to pick her up and throw her right up to the ceiling and then catch her?

JERRY: She was very light.

EMMA: She remembers that, you know.

JERRY: Does she?

EMMA: Mmm. Being thrown up in the air.

JERRY: What a memory. (Pause) She doesn't know... about us, does she?

EMMA: Of course not. She just remembers you, as an old friend.

JERRY: That's it. (Pause) Yes, everyone was there that day, looking around, your husband, my wife, all the children, I remember.

EMMA: What day?

JERRY: When I threw her up to the ceiling. It was in your kitchen. EMMA: It was in your kitchen. (Silence) JERRY: My love.

EMMA: Don't say that. (Pause) Everything...

JERRY: Seems like a very long time ago.

EMMA: Does it?

JERRY: Same again? (JERRY takes the glasses, goes to the bar, EMMA remains still in her chair. JERRY returns with the glasses in his hands, sits down.)

EMMA: I was thinking about you the other day. (PAUSE) I was driving through Kilburn. Suddenly I realised where I was. I just stopped, then I turned into Kinsale Drive and drove down to Wessex Grove. I drove past the building and then stopped about fifty yards further on, like we used to, remember?

JERRY: Yes.

EMMA: There were people coming out of the building. Then they walked off down the street.

JERRY: What sort of people?

EMMA: Oh... young people. Then I got out of the car and went up the steps. I saw the bells, you know, the names on the bells. I looked for our name.

(Pause)

JERRY: Green. (Pause) And you didn't see it, did you?

EMMA: No.

JERRY: Because we don't go there anymore. We haven't been there for years.

EMMA: No, we haven't.

JERRY: I heard you've been seeing Casey now and again.

EMMA: What?

Casey. I just heard that... you see him sometimes.

EMMA: Where did you hear that?

JERRY: Oh... people... in conversation.

EMMA: Fancy that.

JERRY: The funny thing was, the only thing I really felt was irritation, I mean irritation that no one ever gossiped about us like that, in those days. I was just about to say, well, look, maybe she has a drink now and again with Casey, who cares, but she and I had an affair for seven years and none of you lot, you mugs, had the faintest idea what was going on. (Pause)

EMMA: I wonder. I wonder if everyone knew, all along.

JERRY: Don't be silly. We were terrific. Nobody knew. Who was around Kilburn in those days? Only you and me. (Pause) Anyway, what's all this about you and Casey?

EMMA: What do you mean?

JERRY: What's going on?

EMMA: We have a drink now and again.

JERRY: I thought you didn't like his books.

EMMA: I've changed. Or his books have changed. Are you jealous?

JERRY: Jealous of what? (Pause) I couldn't possibly be jealous of Casey. I'm his agent. I advised him on his divorce. I read all his manuscripts. I persuaded your husband to publish his first novel. I accompanied him to Oxford to speak at the Union. He's my... he's my author. I discovered him as a poet a very long time ago. (Pause) He's even taken me down to Southampton to meet his mum and dad. I couldn't possibly be jealous of Casey. Anyway, it's not as though we're having an affair now, is it? We haven't seen each other for years. Actually, I'm very happy if you're happy. (Pause) And what about

Robert? (Pause)

EMMA: Well... I think we're going to split up.

JERRY: Are you?

EMMA: We had a long talk... last night.

JERRY: Last night?

EMMA: Do you know what I realised... last night? He's been betraying me for years. He's had... other women, for years.

JERRY: No! Good grief! (Pause) But we betrayed him for years.

EMMA: And he betrayed me for years.

JERRY: Well, I never knew.

EMMA: Nor did I. (Pause)

JERRY: And does Casey know about this?

EMMA: I wish you wouldn't keep calling him Casey. His name is Roger.

JERRY: Yes, Roger.

EMMA: I telephoned you. I don't know why.

JERRY: That's most curious. We were very good friends, weren't we? Robert and I, even though I haven't seen him for many months, but in all those years, all those drinks, all those meals... that we had together, it never occurred to me... I never suspected even... that there was anyone else... in his life, apart from you. Never. For example, when you're with a friend in a pub, or in a restaurant, for example, every now and then he goes off for a pee, doesn't he, but what I mean is, if he has to make a phone call, very discreet, you kind of feel it, you can almost hear the ring, ring, ring. Well, I never had that feeling with Robert. He never made those kind of ring, ring calls in any of the pubs we went to together. The funny thing is, I was the one who made the ring, ring calls... to you, when I left him boozing in the bar. That's the funny thing. (Pause) When did he tell you all this?

EMMA: Last night. I don't think we slept all night. (Pause)

JERRY: You talked all night?

EMMA: Yes, of course we did. (Pause) Didn't you talk about me, though?

EMMA: What?

JERRY: Well...

EMMA: I rang you this morning, you know, that's all, because I... because we're old friends... I've been standing up all night... it's all over... I suddenly felt I wanted to see you.

JERRY: Well, look, I'm very glad to see you. I am. I'm sorry that... about...

EMMA: Do you remember? I mean, do you remember? JERRY: I remember. (Pause)

EMMA: You were actually very fed up keeping the flat in Wessex Grove when we had it, weren't you?

JERRY: Love adapts itself to everything.

EMMA: I bought the curtains.

JERRY: You adapted.

EMMA: Listen, I really didn't want to see you out of nostalgia, I mean, what's the point? I just wanted to see how you were. Really. How are you?

JERRY: Oh, never mind that. (Pause) You didn't tell Robert about me last night, did you?

EMMA: I had to. (Pause) He told me everything. And I told him everything. We were awake... all night. At one point Ned came downstairs. I had to take him back to bed, tuck him in again. Then I came back down. I think the voices woke him up. You know...

JERRY: You told him everything?

EMMA: I had to tell him.

JERRY: You told him everything... about us?

EMMA: I had to. (Pause)

JERRY: But he's my best friend. I mean, I've held his own daughter in my arms and swung her up and down and all, in my kitchen in front of him.

EMMA: It doesn't matter. It's all over.

JERRY: Is it? What's over?

EMMA: Everything. (Emma drinks.)

ROBERT: Uhm hummm.

SCENE 2

1977 (Present)

JERRY: I must talk to you. It's important.

Later. Jerry's house. Study. Spring.

JERRY is sitting down. ROBERT, standing, with a glass in his hand.

ROBERT: Speak.

JERRY: Yes. (Pause)

JERRY: Good of you to come. I appreciate you coming.

ROBERT: You look tense. (Pause) What's the problem? (Pause) It's not about you and Emma, is it?

ROBERT: No, mate.

JERRY: Yes, yes. I know it was difficult... I know... the children...

ROBERT: No problem. I thought it was urgent.

JERRY: Yes. So... she told me.

ROBERT: Ah. (Pause) Well, it's not very important, is it? It's all over years ago, isn't it?

JERRY: Huh... You've found someone, haven't you?

ROBERT: What?

JERRY: I mean, someone to look after the children.

JERRY: It is important.

ROBERT: Yes, yes. Really. No problem. Besides, Charlotte's not a child anymore.

ROBERT: Really? Why? (JERRY gets up, takes a few steps.)

JERRY: I thought I was going mad.

JERRY: No. (Pause) Are you going to sit down?

ROBERT: When?

ROBERT: Yes, I think so, in a moment. (Pause)

JERRY: This afternoon. Just now. Thinking whether to telephone you or not. I had to talk to you. It took me... two hours, to telephone you. And then you were with the children... I thought I wouldn't be able to see you.

JERRY: Judith's in hospital... She's on night duty. The children are up there...

I thought I was going mad. Really, I do appreciate you coming.

ROBERT: For Christ's sake, mate. Look, what exactly do you want to say to me?

(Pause. JERRY sits down.)

JERRY: I don't know why she told you. I don't know how she could have told you. I simply don't understand it. Look, I know you... well, I saw her today... we had a drink... I hadn't seen her for... she told me, you know, that you have problems... you two... and all that. I know, I mean, really, I'm sorry.

ROBERT: Don't be.

JERRY: Why not? (Pause) The fact is I can't understand... why she thought it necessary... after all these years... to tell you... so suddenly... last night...

ROBERT: Last night?

JERRY: Without consulting me. Without even warning me. After all, you and I...

ROBERT: She didn't tell me last night.

JERRY: What do you mean? (Pause) I know what happened last night. She told me everything. You were up all night, weren't you?

ROBERT: We were.

JERRY: And she told you... last night... that she and I... didn't she?

ROBERT: No, she didn't. About you and her, she didn't tell me last night. She told me about you and her four years ago. (Pause) She didn't have to tell me again last night. Because I knew. And she knew I knew because she told me herself four years ago. (Silence) JERRY: What?

ROBERT: I think I'll sit down. (ROBERT sits down.) I thought you knew.

JERRY: That I knew what?

ROBERT: That I knew. That I've known for years. I thought you knew that.

JERRY: You thought I knew.

ROBERT: She said you didn't know, but I didn't believe her. (Pause) Anyway, I think I thought you knew. But you said no?

JERRY: She told you... when?

ROBERT: Well, I found out. That's what happened. I told her I'd found out and then she... confirmed... the facts.

JERRY: When?

ROBERT: Oh, a long time ago, Jerry. (Pause)

JERRY: But you and I have seen each other... many times... in the last four years. We've had meals.

ROBERT: Though we never played squash.

JERRY: I was your best friend.

ROBERT: Well, yes, sure. (JERRY looks at ROBERT and then drops his head into his hands.) Oh, don't be distressed. There's no point. (Silence. JERRY gets up.)

JERRY: Why didn't she tell me?

ROBERT: Well, I'm not her, am I, mate?

JERRY: Why didn't you tell me?

ROBERT: I thought you knew.

JERRY: But you didn't know for certain, did you? You didn't know!

ROBERT: No.

JERRY: Then why didn't you tell me? (Pause)

ROBERT: Tell you what?

JERRY: That you knew. You bastard.

ROBERT: Oh, don't call me a bastard, Jerry. (Pause)

JERRY: What are we going to do?

ROBERT: You and I are going to do nothing. My marriage is over. I just have to make the necessary arrangements, that's all. In relation to the children. (Pause)

JERRY: Haven't you thought of telling Judith?

ROBERT: Telling Judith what? Oh, about you and Emma. You mean she never knew? Are you absolutely sure? (Pause) No, I hadn't actually thought of telling Judith. You don't seem to understand. You don't seem to understand that I don't give a damn about any of this. It's true I hit Emma once or twice. But not to defend a principle. I didn't do it on moral grounds. I just felt like giving her a good bashing. The odd impulse... you know. (Pause) JERRY: But you betrayed her for years, didn't you?

ROBERT: Oh, yes.

JERRY: And she never knew, did she?

ROBERT: Didn't she? (Pause) JERRY: I didn't.

ROBERT: No, you never really knew much about anything, did you? (Pause) JERRY: No.

ROBERT: Yes, you did know.

JERRY: Yes, I did know. I lived with her.

ROBERT: Yes, in the afternoons.

JERRY: Sometimes quite long afternoons. For seven years.

ROBERT: Yes, you must have got to know quite a bit about such things. As for the seven years of afternoons, I know nothing about that. (Pause) I hope you took good care of her. (Silence) JERRY: We liked each other.

ROBERT: We still like each other. (Pause) I bumped into Casey the other day. I think he's having an affair with my wife. We haven't played squash for years. Casey and I. I remember we used to play very well.

JERRY: He's put on a bit of weight.

ROBERT: Yes, I thought that.

JERRY: He's a bit over the hill now.

ROBERT: Really?

JERRY: Don't you think so?

ROBERT: In what way?

JERRY: His work. His books.

ROBERT: Ah, his books. His art. Yes, his creative spirit does seem to be waning, doesn't it?

JERRY: He still sells.

ROBERT: Sells very well. Sells very well, no question. Which is very good for us. For you and me.

JERRY: Yes.

ROBERT: Someone was telling me, who was it? Must have been someone in publicity, the other day, that when Casey went to York for the presentation of his last book, in a bookshop, you know, with Barbara Spring, you know, people queued for hours to have his book signed, while an old lady and her dog queued to ask Barbara Spring for her autograph. I'm one of those who thinks Barbara Spring... is good, aren't you?

JERRY: Yes. (Pause)

ROBERT: Anyway, we do very well with Casey, don't we?

JERRY: Very well. (Pause)

ROBERT: Have you read any good books lately?

JERRY: I've been reading Yeats. (Pause) ROBERT: Ah, Yeats, yes. (Pause) JERRY: You once read Yeats in Torcello.

ROBERT: In Torcello?

JERRY: Don't you remember? Years ago. You went to Torcello at dawn, alone. And you read Yeats.

ROBERT: So I did. You told me, yes. (Pause) Yes. (Pause) Where are you and your family going in the summer?

JERRY: Lake District.

SCENE 3

1975 (Two Years Earlier)

(The Break-Up)

Flat. Winter.

JERRY and EMMA sitting. Silence.

JERRY: What do you want to do then? (Pause)

EMMA: The thing is, I don't know what we're doing, I just don't know anymore, that's all.

JERRY: Mmm. (Pause) EMMA: I mean, this flat...

JERRY: Yes.

EMMA: Can you actually remember the last time we were here?

JERRY: In the summer, wasn't it?

EMMA: Yes?

JERRY: I know it seems...

EMMA: It was the beginning of September.

JERRY: Well, still summer, wasn't it?

EMMA: But it was quite cold. It was early autumn.

JERRY: It's quite cold now.

EMMA: We were going to get another electric heater. JERRY: Yes, and I never brought it.

EMMA: There's not much point in bringing it if we're never here.

JERRY: We're here now.

EMMA: Don't you believe it. (Silence)

JERRY: Well, things have changed. You've been busy, your work and all.

EMMA: Yes, I know. But I mean, I like it. I want to do it.

JERRY: No, it's fine. It's wonderful for you. But you're not...

EMMA: If you run a gallery, you have to run it. You have to be there.

JERRY: But you're not free in the afternoons, are you?

EMMA: No.

JERRY: So. How can we meet?

EMMA: You realise how often you're away on trips. You're never here.

JERRY: But when I'm here, you're not free in the afternoons. So we can never meet.

EMMA: We can meet for lunch.

JERRY: We can meet for lunch but we can't come all the way down here for a quick lunch. I'm getting too old for that.

EMMA: I didn't mean that. (Pause) You see, before... we used to think of things, we were determined, it was... it seemed impossible for us to meet... impossible... and yet we met. We met here, we got this flat and we met in this flat because we wanted to.

JERRY: It doesn't matter how much we want to meet if you're not free in the afternoons and I'm in America. (Silence) We've always ruled out evenings, and you know that. I have a family.

EMMA: I have a family too.

JERRY: I know perfectly well. I remind you that your husband is one of my oldest friends.

EMMA: What do you mean by that?

JERRY: I don't mean anything by that. EMMA: But what are you trying to say by saying that?

JERRY: Shit. I'm not trying to say anything. I've said precisely what I wanted to say.

EMMA: I see. (Pause) The fact is that in the old days we used our imagination and we decided to meet one evening and we arranged things to go to a hotel.

JERRY: Yes, we did. (Pause) But that was... at the best of... before we got this flat.

EMMA: We haven't spent many nights... in this flat.

JERRY: No. (Pause) Not many nights, anywhere, really. (Silence) EMMA: Can you still... pay for it every month?

JERRY: Oh...

EMMA: It's a waste. Nobody comes here. I don't even want to think about it, really. Always... empty. All day and all night. Day after day and night after night. I mean the crockery and the curtains and the duvet and everything. And the table cloth I brought from Venice. (Laughs) It's absurd. (Pause) It's just... an empty house.

JERRY: It's not a house. (Pause) I know... I know what you wanted... but it could never have been... a house, really. You have a house. I have a house. With curtains, etcetera. And children. Two children in two houses. There are no children here, so it's not the same kind of house.

EMMA: It was never supposed to be the same kind of house. Or was it? (Pause) You didn't even see it as a house in any sense, did you?

JERRY: No, I saw it as a flat... you know.

EMMA: For fucking.

JERRY: No, for loving.

EMMA: Well, there's not much of that left, is there? (Silence)

JERRY: I don't think we don't love each other. (Pause)

EMMA: Ah, well. (Pause) What are you going to do with all... the furniture?

JERRY: What?

EMMA: What's here. (Pause)

JERRY: You know we can do something very simple if we want.

EMMA: You mean sell it to Mrs. Bancks for a pittance... so she can rent it out as a furnished flat?

JERRY: That's right. Wasn't the bed here?

EMMA: What?

JERRY: Wasn't it?

EMMA: We bought the bed. We bought everything. We bought the bed together.

JERRY: Ah, yes. (Emma sits down.)

EMMA: So you'll make all the arrangements with Mrs. Banks? (Pause) I don't want anything. I couldn't put it anywhere, you see. I already have a house, with duvets and everything that goes with it...

JERRY: I'll sort it out, with Mrs. Banks. There'll be a few pounds, you know, so...

EMMA: No, I don't want any money, thank you very much. (Silence. EMMA puts on her coat.) I'm going. (JERRY turns. Looks at her.) Oh, here's my key. (EMMA takes out her key ring: tries to take the key off the ring.) Oh, damn it. (EMMA struggles to take the key off the ring. Throws the key ring to JERRY.) You take it off. (JERRY catches it in mid-air. Looks at her.) Can you take it off, please? I have to pick up Charlotte from school. I'm taking her shopping. (JERRY takes the key off the key ring.) You realise this is an afternoon? It's the afternoon the gallery's closed. That's why I came today. We close every Thursday afternoon. Can you give me my key ring? (JERRY gives her the key ring.) Thanks. Listen, I'm absolutely convinced we've made the best decision. (EMMA goes. JERRY remains standing.)

SCENE 4

1974 (Three Years Earlier)

ROBERT and EMMA's house. Living room. Autumn. ROBERT is preparing a drink for JERRY, then goes to the door.

ROBERT: Emma! Jerry's here!

EMMA: (Offstage) Who?

ROBERT: Jerry.

EMMA: Coming down. (ROBERT gives the drink to JERRY.)

JERRY: Cheers.

ROBERT: Cheers. She's with Ned, while he goes to sleep. I suppose in a few minutes he'll take flight.

JERRY: Flight? Where to?

ROBERT: To the land of Nod. JERRY: Ah, yes. How are you sleeping these days? ROBERT: What?

JERRY: Still having bad nights? With Ned, I mean...

ROBERT: They say boys are worse than girls.

JERRY: Worse?

ROBERT: Babies. They say boy babies cry more than girl babies.

JERRY: Do they?

ROBERT: Didn't you find that?

JERRY: Uhmmm... yes, I think so. And you?

ROBERT: Yes. And what do you deduce from that? What do you think's the cause?

JERRY: Well, I suppose... boys are more anxious.

ROBERT: Boy babies?

JERRY: Yes.

ROBERT: What the hell are they anxious about... at that age? Don't you think?

JERRY: Well... finding themselves in the world, I suppose, leaving the womb, all that.

ROBERT: But what about girl babies? They leave the womb too.

JERRY: True. It's also true that nobody talks much about girl babies leaving the womb, do they?

ROBERT: I could talk about it.

JERRY: I see. Good, what have you got to say?

ROBERT: I was asking you something.

JERRY: What was it?

ROBERT: Why do you think male babies find leaving the womb more of a problem than female babies?

JERRY: Did I say that?

ROBERT: And you even went so far as to suggest that male babies become more anxious facing the world than female babies.

JERRY: Do you personally think that's the case?

ROBERT: Yes, I think so. (Pause)

JERRY: Why do you think that is?

ROBERT: I couldn't say. (Pause)

JERRY: Do you think it has anything to do with the difference between the sexes? (Pause)

ROBERT: Crikey, you're right. It must be that. (EMMA enters.)

EMMA: Hello. What a surprise.

JERRY: I was having tea with Casey.

EMMA: Where?

JERRY: Just around the corner.

EMMA: I thought he lived in... Hampstead or somewhere.

JERRY: You're misinformed.

EMMA: Yes?

JERRY: He's split up with Susannah. He's living alone nearby.

EMMA: Ah...

ROBERT: He's writing a novel about a man who leaves his wife and three children and goes to live alone on the other side of London to write a novel about a man who leaves his wife and three children...

EMMA: I hope it's better than the last one.

ROBERT: The last one? Ah, the last one. Wasn't that the one about the man who lived in a big house in Hampstead with his wife and three children and was writing a novel about...?

JERRY: (To Emma) Why didn't you like it?

EMMA: I told you.

JERRY: I thought it was the best thing he'd written.

EMMA: It may be the best thing he's written but it's terribly dishonest all the same.

JERRY: Dishonest? In what way dishonest?

EMMA: I told you.

JERRY: Did you tell me?

ROBERT: Yes, she did tell you. Once when we were all having dinner, I remember, you, me, Emma and Judith, where was it?, Emma gave a lecture over pudding about Casey's dishonesty in relation to his last novel, DRYING OUT. It was most interesting. Unfortunately, Judith had to leave halfway through because she was on night duty at the hospital. How's Judith, by the way?

JERRY: Very well. (Pause)

ROBERT: When are we going to play squash?

JERRY: You're too good.

ROBERT: Not really. I'm no good at all. It's just that I'm fitter than you are.

JERRY: But why? Why are you fitter than I am?

ROBERT: Because I play squash.

JERRY: Oh, are you playing? Quite often?

ROBERT: Mmmm.

JERRY: With whom?

ROBERT: With Casey.

JERRY: Casey? Good heavens. How does he play?

ROBERT: He's an incredibly clean squash player. No, we haven't really played for several years. We must play. You used to be pretty good. JERRY: Yes, I was pretty good. Very good. I challenge you.

ROBERT: Why not?

JERRY: We'll make a date.

ROBERT: Right.

JERRY: Yes, we must.

ROBERT: And then I'll take you out to lunch.

JERRY: Winner takes the loser to lunch.

EMMA: Can I come and watch? (Pause) ROBERT: What?

EMMA: Why can't I come and watch and then I'll take you both out to lunch?

ROBERT: Well, to be brutally frank, we wouldn't want a woman around, would we, Jerry? I mean, a game of squash isn't simply a game of squash, it's rather more than that. You see; first, there's the game. Then there's the shower. Then there's the pint. Then there's the lunch. After all that, you've done it. You've had your battle. All you want is your pint and your lunch. Not to be taken out to lunch by a woman. Actually, you don't want a woman within a mile of the place, anywhere. You don't want her on the squash court. You don't want her in the shower. You don't want her in the bar. You don't want her in the restaurant. See? At lunch you want to talk about squash, or cricket, or books – even women – with your friend, and be able to warm to your theme without fear of impertinent interruption. That's what it's all about. What do you think, Jerry?

JERRY: I haven't played squash for years. (Pause)

ROBERT: Well, we'll play next week.

JERRY: I can't next week. I'm in New York.

EMMA: You're going away?

JERRY: I'm going with one of my most famous writers.

EMMA: Who?

JERRY: Casey. Someone wants to film that novel of his you didn't like. We're going to go and discuss it. It was a question of their coming here or our going there. Casey thought he deserved the trip.

EMMA: What about you?

JERRY: What?

EMMA: Do you deserve the trip?

ROBERT: Is Judith going?

JERRY: No. She can't be on her own. We'll have that squash game when I get back. A week or ten days at the most.

ROBERT: Splendid.

JERRY: (To Emma) Goodbye. Thanks for the drink.

EMMA: Goodbye. (ROBERT and JERRY go out, Emma remains still. ROBERT returns. Kisses her. She responds. She breaks away, puts her head on ROBERT's shoulder, cries silently. ROBERT holds her.)

SCENE 5

1973

Hotel room. Venice. Summer.

EMMA is reading in bed. ROBERT is looking out of the window. She raises her head and looks at him; then looks back at the book.

EMMA: Torcello tomorrow. Isn't it?

ROBERT: What?

EMMA: We're going to Torcello tomorrow, aren't we?

ROBERT: Yes, that's right.

EMMA: That will be lovely.

ROBERT: Mmm.

EMMA: I can't wait to go. (Pause) ROBERT: The book. Is it good?

EMMA: Mmm. Yes.

ROBERT: What is it?

EMMA: It's a new book. By this... Spinks. ROBERT: Ah, that one. Jerry was telling me about it.

EMMA: Jerry? Really?

ROBERT: He was telling me about that book last week, at lunch.

EMMA: Really? Did he like it?

ROBERT: Spinks is his author. He discovered him.

EMMA: Oh, I didn't know that.

ROBERT: Unsolicited manuscript. (Pause) You think it's good, do you?

EMMA: Yes, I think so. I'm enjoying it.

ROBERT: Jerry thinks it's good too. You should come to lunch with us one day and we'll talk about it.

EMMA: Would that be absolutely necessary? (Pause) It's not that good, it's not up to much.

ROBERT: You mean it's not good enough for you to come to lunch with me and Jerry and talk about it?

EMMA: What the hell are you talking about?

ROBERT: I'll have to read it again, now it's printed.

EMMA: Again?

ROBERT: Jerry wanted us to publish it.

EMMA: Oh, did he?

ROBERT: Well, naturally. Anyway, I turned it down.

EMMA: Why?

ROBERT: Oh... there's not really much to add to the subject, don't you think?

EMMA: What do you consider to be the subject?

ROBERT: Betrayal.

EMMA: No. It isn't.

ROBERT: Isn't it? What is it then? EMMA: I haven't finished it yet, I'll tell you later.

ROBERT: Well, tell me later. (Pause) Of course I may be thinking of another book. (Silence) By the way, I went to American Express yesterday. (EMMA looks up.) EMMA: Oh...

ROBERT: Yes. I went to change some traveller's cheques. You get a better rate there, you see, than in the hotel.

EMMA: Oh, do you?

ROBERT: Yes, of course. Well, anyway, there was a letter for you there. They asked me if I knew you and I said yes. Then they asked me if I wanted to take it. I mean, they gave it to me. But I said no, I wouldn't take it. Did you get it?

EMMA: Yes.

ROBERT: I suppose you turned up there when you went shopping yesterday afternoon...

EMMA: That's right.

ROBERT: Good, good you got it. (Pause) Honestly, it struck me as odd that they should even want to give it to me. That never happens in England. But these Italians... so casual. I mean, just because my name's Downs and your name's Downs doesn't mean we're Mr. and Mrs. Downs, which they, in their ridiculous Mediterranean way, assume we are. We could be, and in fact are most likely to be, total strangers. So, let's say I, whom they cheerfully take to be your husband, had picked up the letter, having told them I was your husband but in fact being a total stranger, and had opened it, and read it, not out of malice but out of sheer idle curiosity, and had then thrown it into the canal, you would never have received it and would have been deprived of your right to open your own mail, and all because of this Venetian je m'en foutisme. I intend to write to the Doge of Venice about the whole affair. (Pause) That's what made me not take it, by the way, and bring it to you... the idea that I could easily have been a total stranger. (Pause) What of course they didn't know, and had no way of knowing, was that I am your husband.

EMMA: What a lot of inefficient people.

ROBERT: Only in a ridiculous, Mediterranean way. (Pause) EMMA: It was from Jerry.

ROBERT: Yes, I recognised his handwriting. (Pause) How is he?

EMMA: Ok.

ROBERT: Good. And Judith?

EMMA: Fine. (Pause)

ROBERT: And how are the children?

EMMA: I don't think he mentioned them.

ROBERT: Then they must be all right. If they were ill or something he'd probably mention it. (Pause) Any other news?

EMMA: No. (Silence)

ROBERT: Do you feel like going to Torcello? (Pause) How many times have we been to Torcello? Twice. I remember you loved it, the first time I took you. You fell in love with the place. That was about ten years ago, wasn't it? About... six months after we got married. Yes. Do you remember? I wonder if you'll love it as much tomorrow. (Pause) What's Jerry like at writing letters? (EMMA laughs a little.) You're trembling. Are you cold?

EMMA: No.

ROBERT: He used to write to me. Long letters about Ford Madox Ford. I used to write back, fancy that. Long letters about... oh, W. B. Yeats, I suppose. That was in the days when we were editors of literary magazines. He at Cambridge and I at Oxford. Did you know that? We were a couple of very bright young men. And very good friends. Well, we're still good friends. All that was before I knew you. Long before he knew you. I've been trying to remember when I introduced you to him. I simply can't remember. I think... did I introduce you? Yes. But when? Do you remember?

EMMA: No.

ROBERT: No?

EMMA: No.

ROBERT: How strange. (Pause) He wasn't our best man, was he?

EMMA: You know he was.

ROBERT: Ah, yes. Well, that was probably when I introduced you to him. (Pause) Was there any message for me in his letter? (Pause) I mean, on the work front, anything to do with the world of publishing. Has he discovered any new, original talent? He's quite talented at discovering talent, good old Jerry.

EMMA: No message.

ROBERT: No message. Not even a hug for me? (Silence) EMMA: We're lovers.

ROBERT: Ah. Yes. I thought it might be something of that sort. Something along those lines.

EMMA: When?

ROBERT: What?

EMMA: When did you think it?

ROBERT: Yesterday. Just yesterday. When I saw the letter. Before yesterday, I hadn't the faintest idea.

EMMA: Oh. (Pause) I'm sorry.

ROBERT: Are you? (Silence) Where... does it take place? It must be a bit tricky. I mean, we have two children, he has two children, to say nothing of a wife.

EMMA: We have a flat.

ROBERT: Ah. I see. (Pause) Nice? (Pause) A flat. So it's fairly consistent... your affair?

EMMA: Yes.

ROBERT: How long?

EMMA: Some time.

ROBERT: Yes. But how long exactly?

EMMA: Five years.

ROBERT: Five years? (Pause) Ned's barely a year old. (Pause) Did you hear what I said?

EMMA: Yes. He's your son. Jerry was in America. For two months. (Silence)

ROBERT: Did he write to you when he was in America?

EMMA: Of course, and I wrote to him too. ROBERT: Did you tell him Ned had been conceived? EMMA: Not in a letter.

ROBERT: But when you did tell him, was he pleased to hear that I was going to be a father? (Pause) I've always liked Jerry. To be honest, I've always liked him much more than you. Perhaps I should have had an affair with him myself. (Pause) Tell me, are you looking forward very much to going to Torcello?

SCENE 6

1973 (Later)

Later. Flat. Summer.

EMMA and JERRY standing. Kissing. She is holding a basket and a package.

EMMA: Darling.

JERRY: Darling. (JERRY continues to hold her. EMMA laughs.)

EMMA: I've got to put these... (EMMA puts the basket on the table.) JERRY: What's in it?

EMMA: The lunch.

JERRY: What?

EMMA: Things you like. (JERRY pours wine into the glasses.) How do I look?

JERRY: Lovely.

EMMA: Do I look alright?

JERRY: Yes. (JERRY gives her wine.) EMMA: (Tasting the wine.) Mmmm.

JERRY: How was it?

EMMA: Marvellous.

JERRY: Did you go to Torcello?

EMMA: No.

JERRY: Why not?

EMMA: Oh, I don't know. The water buses were on strike, or something.

JERRY: On strike?

EMMA: Yes. The day we were going to go.

JERRY: Oh, and why not by gondola?

EMMA: You can't go by gondola to Torcello.

JERRY: Well, they used to in the old days, didn't they? Before they had motor launches. How do you think they got there the first time?

EMMA: It would take them hours.

JERRY: Yes, I suppose so. (Pause) I got your letter.

EMMA: Good.

JERRY: Did you get mine?

EMMA: Yes, of course. Did you miss me?

JERRY: Yes. Actually, I haven't been feeling too well.

EMMA: What?

JERRY: Oh, nothing. A bug. (She kisses him.)

EMMA: I missed you. (She draws away and looks round.) You haven't been here... at all?

JERRY: No.

EMMA: It needs cleaning.

JERRY: Later. (Pause) I talked to Robert this morning.

EMMA: Eh?

JERRY: I asked him to lunch on Thursday.

EMMA: Thursday? Why?

JERRY: Well, it's my turn.

EMMA: No, I mean. Why did you ask him to lunch?

JERRY: Because it's my turn. Last time he asked me.

EMMA: You know what I mean.

JERRY: No. What?

EMMA: What's it about, why are you meeting for lunch?

JERRY: Nothing, no reason. We've been doing it for years. First it's his turn, then it's mine.

EMMA: You misunderstood me.

JERRY: Did I? How?

EMMA: Well, it's quite simple, you sometimes meet, or have lunch, to discuss something about a particular writer or a book, don't you? There's always a reason or a topic for these meetings or lunches.

JERRY: Well, there's nothing this time. (Pause)

EMMA: Have you discovered any new writers, while I've been away?

JERRY: No. Sam fell off his bicycle.

EMMA: No!

JERRY: Fainted. Was unconscious for about a minute.

EMMA: Were you with him?

JERRY: No. Judith. He's all right now. And then I caught this bug.

EMMA: Oh, darling.

JERRY: So I haven't had time for anything.

EMMA: Everything will be alright now I'm back.

JERRY: Yes.

EMMA: Oh, I read that thing by Spinks, the book you gave me.

JERRY: What did you think?

EMMA: Excellent.

JERRY: Robert loathed it. Didn't want to publish it.

EMMA: What's he like?

JERRY: Who?

EMMA: Spinks.

JERRY: Spinks? He's a very thin fellow. About fifty. Always wears dark glasses, day and night. Lives alone in a furnished room. Very much like this one actually. He's... imperturbable. EMMA: Furnished rooms suit him, do they?

JERRY: Yes.

EMMA: They suit me too. What about you? Do you still like this one? Our house?

JERRY: It's wonderful not having a telephone.

EMMA: And is it wonderful having me?

JERRY: You're very well.

EMMA: I cook for you, I slave away.

JERRY: That's right.

EMMA: I bought something in Venice... for the flat. (EMMA opens a package. Takes out a tablecloth. Puts it on the table.) Do you like it?

JERRY: It's lovely. (Pause)

EMMA: Do you think we'll ever go to Venice together? (Pause) No. Probably not. (Pause)

JERRY: Don't you think I should see Robert for lunch on Thursday, or Friday for lunch, anyway?

EMMA: Why do you say that?

JERRY: Don't you think I should see him at all?

EMMA: I didn't say that. Why shouldn't you see him? Don't be silly. (Pause)

JERRY: I had a terrible fright when you were away. I was discussing a contract, in my office, with some lawyers. And suddenly I couldn't remember what I'd done with your letter. I couldn't remember if I'd put it in the safe or not. I said I had to look for something in the safe. I opened the safe and it wasn't there. I had to go on discussing the blasted contract... And all I could think about was that the letter was lying about in the house, and someone would pick it up...

EMMA: Did you find it?

JERRY: It was in the pocket of a jacket, in the wardrobe, at my house.

EMMA: God.

JERRY: Something else happened a few months ago... I didn't tell you. One evening, after you and I had had a drink, and I got home about eight o'clock, I opened the door, and Judith said hello, you're a bit late. Sorry, I said, I was having a drink with Spinks. Spinks? she said, funny, he just telephoned you, five minutes ago, he wanted to speak to you and he didn't say he'd just seen you. You know what Spinks is like, I said, not exactly forthcoming, is he? Perhaps he remembered something he wanted to tell me and didn't tell me. I'll ring him later. I went up to see the children and then we all had dinner together. (Pause) Listen, do you remember, when was it? A few years ago, we were all in your kitchen, must have been Christmas or something, remember?, all the kids were running around and I suddenly picked up Charlotte and swung her up high, right up to the ceiling and then down and up and down and up. Remember how she laughed?

EMMA: We all laughed.

JERRY: She was very light. And there was your husband and my wife and all the children, all in the kitchen watching, laughing. I can't get that scene out of my mind.

EMMA: It was actually in your kitchen. (JERRY takes EMMA's hand. They stand up. Go to the bed and lie down.) Why shouldn't you pick her up and throw her? (She strokes him. They embrace.)

SCENE 7

1973

Later. Restaurant. Summer.

ROBERT sitting at table, drinking wine. WAITER leads JERRY to the table. JERRY sits down.

JERRY: Hello, Robert.

ROBERT: Hello.

JERRY: (To Waiter) I'd like a scotch on the rocks.

WAITER: With water?

JERRY: What?

WAITER: Do you want it with water?

JERRY: No. Without water. Just on the rocks.

WAITER: Certainly, signore.

ROBERT: Scotch? You don't usually drink scotch at lunch.

JERRY: I had a few germs, that's why.

ROBERT: Ah.

JERRY: And the only way I could get rid of these germs was with scotch... during lunch and in the evening. So I still have scotch at lunch in case they come back.

ROBERT: Like eating an apple a day.

JERRY: Exactly. (Waiter brings scotch on the rocks.) Cheers.

ROBERT: Cheers.

WAITER: The menu, signore. (Gives them menus and goes.)

ROBERT: How are you? I mean, apart from the germs.

JERRY: Fine.

ROBERT: Ready for a game of squash?

JERRY: When I get rid of the germs, yes.

ROBERT: I thought you'd got rid of them.

JERRY: Why do you think I'm still drinking scotch at lunchtime?

ROBERT: Ah, yes. We really must play. It's years since we played.

JERRY: How old are you, by the way?

ROBERT: Thirty-six.

JERRY: That means I'm thirty-six too.

ROBERT: Yes, you're a day... Squash is a bit violent, though.

JERRY: Let's have one sometime. And play. What was Venice like?

WAITER: Ready to order, signori?

ROBERT: What are you going to have? (JERRY looks at ROBERT, for a moment, then looks back at the menu.)

JERRY: Melon. And piccata al limone with salsa verde.

WAITER: Insalata verde. Prosciutto e melone?

JERRY: No. Just melone. On the rocks.

ROBERT: I'll have prosciutto e melone. Scampi fritti. And spinach.

WAITER: Spinaci. Gazie, signore. ROBERT: And a bottle of Corvo Blanco straight away.

WAITER: Yes, signore. Molte grazie. (Waiter goes.)

JERRY: Is that the one who's always been here or is it his son?

ROBERT: You mean has his son always been here?

JERRY: No. Is he his son? I mean, is he the son of the one who's always been here?

ROBERT: No. He's his father.

JERRY: Ah. Yes?

ROBERT: He's the one who speaks terrific Italian.

JERRY: Yes. Your Italian's pretty good, isn't it?

ROBERT: No. Not at all.

JERRY: Yes, it is.

ROBERT: No. Emma's the one who speaks very well. Emma's Italian is very good.

JERRY: Yes? I didn't know that. (Waiter comes in with a bottle.) WAITER: Corvo Blanco, signori.

ROBERT: Thank you.

JERRY: So how was it then? Venice.

WAITER: Venezia, signori. One of the most beautiful places in Italy. You see that painting on the wall? That is Venezia.

ROBERT: Yes, it is.

WAITER: Do you know what there isn't in Venice? What?

WAITER: Traffico. (Goes out smiling.) ROBERT: Cheers.

JERRY: Cheers.

ROBERT: When was the last time you were here?

JERRY: Oh, years ago.

ROBERT: How's Judith?

JERRY: What? Oh, you know. Very well. Busy.

ROBERT: And the children?

JERRY: Very well. Sam fell off...

ROBERT: What?

JERRY: No, no, nothing. So how was it then?

ROBERT: You used to go with Judith sometimes, didn't you?

JERRY: Yes, but we haven't been back for years. (Pause) What about Charlotte? Did she enjoy herself? ROBERT: I think so. (Pause) I enjoyed myself.

JERRY: Good.

ROBERT: I took a trip to Torcello.

JERRY: Oh, really? It's a lovely place.

ROBERT: It was an amazing day. I got up very early and... whoosh... all across the lagoon... to Torcello. Not a soul about.

JERRY: What's whoosh?

ROBERT: The motor launch.

JERRY: Ah, I thought...

ROBERT: What?

JERRY: A long time ago, I'm sure I'm wrong. I thought one went to Torcello by gondola.

ROBERT: It would take hours. No, no... whoosh... all across the lagoon at dawn.

JERRY: Sounds nice.

ROBERT: I was all alone.

JERRY: Where was Emma?

ROBERT: I think asleep.

JERRY: Ah.

ROBERT: I was on my own for hours, actually, on the island. The most, really, the best part of the trip.

JERRY: Yes? Good, sounds terrific.

ROBERT: Yes. I sat on the grass and read Yeats. Yeats in Torcello?

ROBERT: They go together rather well. (Waiter comes in with the food.) WAITER: One melone. One prosciutto e melone.

ROBERT: Prosciutto for me.

WAITER: Buon appetito.

ROBERT: Emma read that novel by your chap... what's his name?

JERRY: I don't know. Who?

ROBERT: Spinks.

JERRY: Ah, Spinks. Yes, the one you didn't like.

ROBERT: The one I didn't want to publish.

JERRY: I remember. Did Emma like it?

ROBERT: She seemed to be absolutely bowled over reading it.

JERRY: Good.

ROBERT: You liked it, didn't you?

JERRY: Yes.

ROBERT: And it's doing very well?

JERRY: Yes.

ROBERT: Tell me, do you think that makes me a judicious publisher or a foolish publisher?

JERRY: A foolish publisher.

ROBERT: I agree with you. I'm a very foolish publisher.

JERRY: No, you're not. What are you talking about? You're a good publisher. What are you talking about?

ROBERT: I'm a bad publisher because I hate books. Or to be more precise, prose. Or to be even more precise, modern prose, I mean modern novels, first novels, second novels, all that promise and sensibility which I have to judge, and invest the firm's money in, and then have to insist on the third novel, see it through, see the jacket, see the dinner for the literary editors, see the book launched at Hatchard's, see the lucky author kill himself promoting it, all in the cause of literature. Do you know what you and Emma have in common? You both love literature. I mean, you both love prose literature, modern literature, I mean you love the new novel by the new Casey or the new Spinks. It gives you both a great thrill.

JERRY: You must be sick of it.

ROBERT: Really? You really don't think it's a strong emotion for Emma?

JERRY: How do I know? She's your wife. (Pause)

ROBERT: Yes. Yes. You're right. I shouldn't consult anyone.

JERRY: I'd like some more wine.

ROBERT: Yes. Yes. Waiter! Another bottle of Corvo Blanco. And where's the food? This place is going to the dogs. I warn you, it's worse in Venice. They really don't care about anything there. I'm not drunk. Corvo Blanco doesn't make you drunk. I warn you... last night... I was up late... I loathe brandy... it stinks of modern literature. No, look, don't you worry, I'm sorry... (Waiter comes in with the bottle.)

WAITER: Corvo Blanco.

ROBERT: Same glass. Is our food coming? WAITER: It's on its way.

ROBERT: I'll pour. (Waiter goes with the melon dishes.) No, look, I'm sorry, pour yourself more. Let me tell you what's the matter, I can't bear being back in London. I was very happy, which is most unusual, not in Venice, I don't mean that, I mean in Torcello, when I was walking in Torcello in the very early morning, on my own, I felt very happy, I wanted to stay there for ever.

JERRY: All of us...

ROBERT: Yes, all of us... feel like that sometimes. Ah, you too, don't you? (Pause) I mean, it's not as if anything bad is happening, you see. I have my family. Emma and I are very happy together. I think her world... And I think Casey really is a writer of the first rank.

JERRY: Do you?

ROBERT: First rank. I'm glad to publish him and you discovered him and that was very clever of you.

JERRY: Thanks.

ROBERT: You have a very good nose and you care and I respect that in you. So does Emma. We talk about you sometimes.

JERRY: How is Emma?

ROBERT: Very well. You must come and have a drink with us one day. She'd love to see you.

SCENE 8

1971 (Two Years Earlier)

Flat. Summer.

Empty flat. Kitchen door open. Table laid: cups and saucers, glasses, bottle of wine. JERRY enters through the street door, with key.

JERRY: Hulloa. (EMMA's voice is heard from the kitchen.)

EMMA: Hulloa. (EMMA comes out of the kitchen. She is wearing an apron.) I only just got here. Wanted to be here ages ago. I'm making this stew. It takes hours. (Jerry kisses her.) Are you starving?

JERRY: Yes. (Kisses her.)

EMMA: No, really. It'll never be ready. You sit down. It'll be ready in a minute.

JERRY: That's a nice apron.

EMMA: Oh. (EMMA kisses him, and goes to the kitchen. She calls.) Jerry pours the wine.) What have you been doing?

JERRY: Walking in the park.

EMMA: What was it like?

JERRY: Beautiful. Empty. Slight mist. (Pause) I sat down for a bit, under a tree. Very peaceful. Watched the Serpentine. (Pause)

EMMA: And then?

JERRY: Then I took a taxi to Wessex Grove. Number 31. Went up the steps and opened the front door and then went upstairs and opened this door and found you in a new apron cooking a stew. (EMMA comes out of the kitchen.)

EMMA: It's ready.

JERRY: What's ready? (EMMA pours herself a vodka.) Vodka? At lunchtime?

EMMA: I felt like it. (Drinks it.) I bumped into Judith yesterday. Didn't she tell you?

JERRY: No. She didn't. (Pause) Where?

EMMA: Lunchtime.

JERRY: Lunchtime?

EMMA: Didn't she tell you?

JERRY: No.

EMMA: How odd.

JERRY: What do you mean, lunchtime? Where?

EMMA: In Fortnum and Mason.

JERRY: Fortnum and Mason?

EMMA: She was having lunch with a lady.

JERRY: A lady?

EMMA: Yes. (Pause)

JERRY: Fortnum and Mason's quite a long way from the hospital.

EMMA: No, not so far.

JERRY: Well... I suppose not. (Pause) And you?

EMMA: Me?

JERRY: What were you doing in Fortnum and Mason?

EMMA: Having lunch with my sister.

JERRY: Ah. (Pause)

EMMA: Judith... didn't she tell you?

JERRY: I haven't actually seen her. I was out very late last night, at Casey's. And she left very early this morning. (Pause) EMMA: Do you think she knows?

JERRY: Knows?

EMMA: Knows? About us?

JERRY: No.

EMMA: Are you sure?

JERRY: She's very busy. At the hospital. And then there are the children. She's not addicted to... speculation.

EMMA: But... any clues? Isn't she interested in... following clues?

JERRY: What clues?

EMMA: Well, there must be some... that she... might pick up...

JERRY: There aren't any... that she might pick up.

EMMA: Oh, well... good. (Pause) JERRY: She has an admirer.

EMMA: Oh, really?

JERRY: Another doctor. Asks her out for a drink now and again. It's... very annoying. I mean, she says there's nothing in it. He likes her, he's fond of her, etcetera etcetera... perhaps that's what I find most annoying. I don't know quite what's going on.

EMMA: Oh. Why should she have an admirer? I have an admirer.

JERRY: Who?

EMMA: Uh. You, I suppose...

JERRY: Ah, yes. (JERRY takes her hand.) I'm rather more than that.

EMMA: Tell me, have you ever thought of changing your life?

JERRY: Change it?

EMMA: Mmm. (Pause) JERRY: It's impossible. (Pause) EMMA: Do you think she's unfaithful to you?

JERRY: No. I don't know.

EMMA: When you were in America, now, for instance...

JERRY: No.

EMMA: Have you ever been unfaithful?

JERRY: To whom?

EMMA: To me, of course.

JERRY: No. (Pause) What about you to me? EMMA: No. (Pause) If I were unfaithful to you, what would you do?

JERRY: She's not unfaithful. She's busy. She has a lot to do. She's a very good doctor. She enjoys life. She adores the children.

EMMA: Ah.

JERRY: She loves me. (Pause)

EMMA: Ah. (Silence)

JERRY: That all means something.

EMMA: Surely.

JERRY: But I adore you. (Pause. EMMA takes his hand.)

EMMA: Yes. (Pause) Listen, there's something I have to tell you. JERRY: What?

EMMA: I'm pregnant. It was when you were in America. (Pause) It wasn't someone else. It was my husband. (Pause)

JERRY: Yes. Yes, of course. (Pause) I'm very happy for you.

SCENE 9

1968 (Two Years Earlier)

ROBERT and EMMA's house. Bedroom. Winter.

The room is barely lit. JERRY is sitting in the shadows. Distant music comes through the door. The door opens. The light goes on. Music. EMMA enters, closes the door. Goes to the mirror. Sees JERRY.

EMMA: Oh, my God.

JERRY: I've been waiting for you.

EMMA: What do you mean?

JERRY: I knew you'd come. (JERRY drinks.)

EMMA: I only came in to do my hair. (JERRY gets up.)

JERRY: I knew you had to come. I knew you'd come to do your hair. I knew you'd have to get away from the party. (EMMA goes to the mirror, does her hair. He watches her.) You're a beautiful hostess.

EMMA: Aren't you enjoying the party?

JERRY: You're beautiful. (JERRY walks towards EMMA.) Listen to me. I've been watching you all evening. I've got to tell you, I want to tell you, I have to tell you...

EMMA: Please...

JERRY: You were incredible.

EMMA: You're drunk.

JERRY: In spite of that. (JERRY takes EMMA's hand.) EMMA: Jerry.

JERRY: I was your best man. I saw you in your white dress. I saw you glide, all white.

EMMA: I wasn't in white.

JERRY: Do you know what should have happened?

EMMA: What?

JERRY: I should have had you in your white wedding dress, before the wedding. I should have blackened you, in your white wedding dress, blackened you in your bridal dress, before giving you away at the wedding, as your best man.

EMMA: My husband's best friend. Your best friend's wife.

JERRY: No. Your best man.

EMMA: I must go.

JERRY: You're lovely. I'm mad about you. All these words I use, you see, they've never been said before. Don't you understand? I'm mad about you. Have you never been in the desert of the Sahara? Listen to me. It's true. Listen. I'm out of my mind. You're so wonderful.

EMMA: I'm not.

JERRY: You're so beautiful. Look at the way you look at me.

EMMA: I'm not... looking at you. Please...

JERRY: Look at the way you're looking at me. I can't wait any longer, I'm bewildered, I'm totally out of my mind, I'm dazzled, you're my life's delight, you're my treasure, my treasure, I shall never sleep again, no, listen, it's the truth, I shall not walk, I'll be a cripple, I'll be a dwarf, I'll be reduced, I'll crawl, on all fours, my life is in your hands, that's what you're doing to me, you're turning me into a catatonic, do you know what a catatonic is? Do you?, it's someone who... who the reigning prince is the prince of emptiness, the prince of absence, the prince of desolation. I love you.

EMMA: My husband's just outside the door.

JERRY: They all know. Everyone knows. They know. But they'll never know, never know, that they inhabit a different world. I adore you. I'm madly in love with you. I can't believe what anyone says is happening has happened at all. Nothing has ever happened. This has never happened. Your eyes kill me. I'm lost. You're wonderful.

EMMA: No.

JERRY: Yes. (Kisses her. She draws away. JERRY kisses her. Laughter from outside. She draws away. Doors open. ROBERT.)

EMMA: Your best friend's drunk.

JERRY: As you are my best and oldest friend, and in the current circumstances, my host, I was just taking the opportunity to tell your wife how beautiful she is.

ROBERT: Very good.

JERRY: It's very good, facing facts... and bearing witness, without embarrassment, to what one can appreciate, without reservations.

ROBERT: Absolutely.

JERRY: And how wonderful for you that this should be so, that this is the case, that her beauty is the case.

ROBERT: Precisely. (JERRY walks towards ROBERT and takes him by the elbow.) JERRY: Speaking as your oldest friend. Your best man.

ROBERT: You truly are. (ROBERT puts his arm round JERRY's shoulder, briefly, turns away, goes out of the room. EMMA walks to the door. JERRY takes her arm. She stops dead. They both remain still, looking at each other.)

END.