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Either you leave or I do.

I've had enough. Now get out of it saying you're going.

While you're here, don't you go.

Go for good and leave me in peace.

Rake, gas, electricity.

All final demands.

One final demand I await with pleasure.

The last judgment.

Then you'll be judged as well as me, you stale fish.

That

was

seven pounds and twelve hours of oblivion.

Perhaps they've come to cut something off.

Your head, I hope.

Oh. Yes?

I was wondering... Yes?

Whether you were having any trouble with your water.

Water is something that has never troubled me.

No.

No.

That was just an excuse, of course.

I have been a marriage guidance counselor and a Samaritan. If I could

all. No!

Just to pay for the one you broke.

Mrs. Locke, I have a friend in Alcoholics Anonymous. Will you get the

of here?

Don't be a Samaritan to the strippers in Soho. I've done my best to be

understanding, Mr. Lockwood. Really, these rows are quite intolerable. I

make a complaint to the landlord.

did I keep them for?

Mementos of mediocrity.

A day's success has to be paid for.

Failure comes a bit more expensive.

And I have to pay for your failure.

Richard Mellor.

Old Dickie.

Damn his guts.

Damn PAs, damn PROs, and damn all the jerks who can't keep a deadline.

You haven't done much today, have you?

Well, moving these stones does my back in.

If you went to the osteopath, whose name, address, and telephone number I

you, you wouldn't have a bad back. I don't want an osteopath. I just want

minutes' peace, please.

You've had a whole day's peace while I've been seeing 20 dumb models. Oh, and

fixing the air tickets.

Hotel.

Italian PR.

An absolute idiot.

Taking to see if I can get 40 dresses through customs in Rome.

Make sure I've got the hairdresser I want to not stand in.

Why the hell do you still read Variety?

Think you're going to make Broadway?

Nostalgia, my love.

I did make Toronto once.

Where did you put my clothes?

Clothes? My dry cleaning.

Oh, God.

Oh, that means you haven't collected it.

It's too late. They're closed now. Look, I'll go first thing tomorrow morning. I

leave the house at eight. That means I've got to go shopping when I get there

boil in wool in Rome.

I'm sorry, my mind was on other things.

Yes, I've got to go to the theatre now, too. Now, what for? It's early.

Well, we have an equity meeting.

I haven't told you the show closes on Saturday.

And it's most unlikely we'll get paid.

When did you last get paid for anything?

It's rough on the others, that's all.

Because they are not subsidised by wives who fly first class.

To boil in wool in Rome.

What time is the night boat to Dublin?

Yes, yes, I said Dublin.

And what train from London would connect with that?

Is that the first train?

And what time does that arrive in Dublin?

Dickie. Good Lord.

Do you still live over there?

Yes, yes.

Still full of actors?

Well, there's one or two of us left.

Are you off somewhere?

Yes. Well, parents, what a dirty weekend.

One of the Puritan English would describe a lover's meeting as a dirty

No, no, those days are over, dear boy.

When do you go?

Well, I've got a couple of hours to kill before I check in at the airport.

Oh, because I was just going down the road for a snifter. Ah, my local pub.

Well, I can do with a drink.

Oh, good.

Good.

Is this your car?

Yes, yes. It was a present from Melissa a few years back. Oh, my God.

Melissa! I think I need that drink.

Oh, it's nice to see you.

Because we never made this, did we, Gus?

I carried a spear here once. Oh, yes.

Because I'm working down the road, actually.

Ah.

But not that play that... Not the worst notices I've read in 30 years, yes.

Yes,

we close on Saturday.

Yeah, well, I didn't see your name outside the theatre.

No, well, I've only got a very, very small part.

I'm understudying as well.

Were we bad, or was he just bad luck that our names aren't up there?

Fergus Locke in King Lear.

Yes.

Richard Miller in Pygmalion. I think I was a rather good Professor Higgins.

In New Zealand.

What the hell do you need to play big boys?

I've heard that Melissa's whatever the female of a tycoon is.

Or tycoonette.

Oh, yes, she's got a chain of boutiques from here to Miami.

So why don't you sit back and pack it in?

Well, because... Because I think she's left me, Gus.

She's gone to do a fashion show in Rome.

She's got a little chap there, I know that.

And I don't expect her back.

She will settle in some tax haven somewhere with her gigolo.

Everything's in her name. All I've got is a car.

So, I'm an understudy.

It's out of work now, too.

Well, if I'd known, I'd have called you.

Even after 25 years.

Sympathy? No, no.

Satisfaction.

Because you, you bastard, you took her from me.

If it hadn't been for that, we might have stayed friends.

I've often misjudged us.

We'd have rambled on like old ham do, but theatrical digs and disastrous

Yes, playing in... Oh, do you remember now? What the hell was the name of the

play? End of the Brighton Pier.

Oh, that's right, that's right. It was the middle of a foresake game.

Waves coming through the waves. And I had to say the line, it's so quiet up

here.

And we both collapsed.

So did the audience. All six.

Two more, Kathleen.

And I'll have a packet of those cigars.

Is

that

pub time or real time?

That's right by the radio.

Only in a Puritan country like England would they set pub talks five minutes

fast. Make you drink up so much.

Oh, sorry.

Water.

I said,

did you want water?

Oh, yes. Yes, please.

Sir, what have you been up to lately?

Oh, uh, walk -ons in TV, you know. I, uh, I model a bit now.

Clothes for the older man, you know, insurance ad.

Plan for a happy retirement.

I should hate your guts.

Well, time cures all things.

So they say.

25 years.

Haven't stopped me loving Melissa.

Ah, well, a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.

Was that from some play we were in? Sounds like Noel Card.

No, no.

It's Rudyard Kipling.

Could I... Help yourself.

Thank you.

Do you remember the old story about the two girls?

One says to the other, Do you like Kipling?

And the other one says, Well, I don't know. I haven't done it yet.

Do you remember the lovely Noel Card story?

He was rehearsing some romantic piece of his.

And the ingenue was a girl called Maureen Clopp.

So when Noel saw the proofs of the bills, he took her aside and he said,

Darling, you're a lovely girl in a lovely play, but I really can't have my

on the bill with someone called Maureen Clopp.

So go away, darling, and come back tomorrow and tell me some nice new

name you've found for yourself. So she went home and came back the following

day. And Noel said, have you found that name, darling? And she said, yes. And

Noel said, tell me.

And so she said, Diana Klopp.

Yes, yes, I remember.

Did you know him, Dickie?

No, no.

Then why do you call him Noel?

Oh, God, Gus.

It's an old actor's habit. We all do it.

How was the marriage?

There was a boy and a girl.

And where are they?

The boy's in New York.

And the girl does some sort of work with children.

I've rather lost touch with her.

Doesn't sound as though the love match worked out.

Well, I never made it as an actor, and Melissa was a great success.

She got in on the 60s boom, then she went in for ethnic stuff, you know, left

hands and all that.

And then she made workmen's overalls a rage.

So now there are girls all over the world walking around with a label

their bottoms.

Whatever happened to that ghastly girl she was at art school with?

Short legs and freckles and screwed back hair. Do you remember? She was a little

dumpy and had to have every joke explained to her twice.

Gosh, she was awful.

Smelt like the inside of a tart handbag. What was her name?

Audrey.

Yes. Whatever happened to her, did she ever get anywhere? No, not far.

She married me.

I'm sorry.

Oh, God!

Oh, God, that was funny!

I wish I'd heard that description all those years ago when I asked her to

me.

On the reaper.

When you stole Melissa.

Gosh. Oh, yes, you did, you devious bloody liar.

And the pair of you like burglars who mess up the carpets.

You messed up my life.

Two more, Kathleen.

No, no, this is my round.

Diet, then.

The same again, please.

How was your marriage?

Bust, like yours.

We couldn't have children.

Then she found out that I was chronically unfaithful.

So she took to religion and illness.

When she wasn't in church, she was in hospital.

Thank you.

Well, Melissa was always doing the place up.

If we weren't converting the attic, we had to have a patio.

It was yesterday.

With unpaid labour, mind.

Melissa... was... And I've... I've known

a few.

The most beautiful woman...

Dressed or undressed, I have ever seen.

You know who she reminds me of?

No?

You know what reminds me of her?

Every time I see a picture of Marilyn Monroe.

The hair that was blonde without being blonded.

The vulnerable, red mouth that was like a kiss without being kissed.

Is she a gentleman?

It was written off, not trash.

Oh.

Bloody hell, with her, my whole life might have been different.

Work, sex, and everything.

Gosh, that's fantastic.

So what are you going to do when your show closes?

Take a break.

On what's left in our joint account.

Go back to where I grew up, south of Norfolk.

Find a pub somewhere.

Yes,

Audrey and I used to go cruising on the Norfolk Roads.

We'd hire a boat, you know.

Boring flat concrete.

Too much water.

Over by the barn. Quick, move. Come on, poke it over there.

You're not the kind of chap who carries a gun. That's not real. It's real, all

right. You know when I got it? When you ran off with Melissa.

Don't move, Kathleen.

I didn't come in here for the sake of your company.

I thought if anything goes wrong, you might tempt me with an alibi.

And now it has gone wrong.

Stay where you are, Kathleen.

I wouldn't want to shoot a girl from Galway.

Mr. Murphy!

Mr. Murphy!

He's that murderer. Give him a chance.

He never had a chance in all his life. Mr. Murphy!

Come on, come on, I never make it.

Come on, I've got to be on that boat. I've got to be on that boat tonight.

Come on!

Hell of a place to end here.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.