All language subtitles for The Hotel in Amsterdam (2003)

Thank you.

Sir.

I'm sorry? I think it's the baggage,
Gus.

Oh. Well, tell him, darling. No, it's
all right. Now, let's see. Well, don't

let's make an operation out of it. Those
are us. Those three.

Yes, but where are we all going to go?
We don't... I mean, we haven't had a

yet. Why don't we sort them out and then
decide afterwards? Brilliant. Some men

are brilliant, aren't they?

I hope no Gus can manage. Yes, well,
it's just a question of sorting out the

rooms, isn't it? They're all there. I
should hope so. We're paying enough for

them. Well, don't let him stand there,
darling.

Well, we think we'll have a look at the
rooms first, then decide where we're all

going to go.

And make hours with Gus. No, it won't.
Look, Porter, just put them all down on

the floor and we'll sort them out
ourselves.

Yes, madam. I want a drink, really. Have
you got any water to drink? No, but we

can order some now. No, you know,
change.

Tip. Oh, no, no, I haven't. Let's see.
No. I used it on the taxi. Darling. No,

haven't. I might have. Did you forget,
Laurie? Of course he didn't. He just

didn't like to ask.

Why on earth not?

He's terrified no one's going to speak
English. You don't think they're going

speak Dutch, do you? I suppose not.

She's quite right, though. I just feel I
ought to, and then I dry up.

France is worse, because it really seems
so thick not to. Like Americans.

Exactly. And they're so foul.

The French, I mean. If you do have a bit
of a go, they despise you and pretend

they don't know.

A waiter in Paris actually corrected me
saying vodka once.

After all, it's a Russian word.

I shouldn't let it worry you. Well, it
does. It does, it's very good. A bit

slow, but full of initiative always,
aren't you, darling?

Yes, I don't think I have that trouble
so much. You can usually get someone to

understand, especially nowadays.

Well, that's the trouble.

Amy, what do we give? I looked up the
exchange.

Yes. Oh, thank heavens. Now Laurie can
breathe and we can look around.

Just a minute. Look, do we all want a
drink?

You mean you do?

I don't know. Do we, darling? You bet
after that, Jenny. The aeroplane.

Margaret? No, I'm not. Of course. Would
you like something else? Just mineral

water. Perrier, something.

Amy? Well, I know Amy will and Dan's
tongue's dropping out. You ho!

I can see it from here.

Why don't we? No.

It's too expensive. Well, we ought to
celebrate getting here. After all, we're

all in one piece. We're all together.

We've escaped.

Nobody knows we're here. No one.
Absolutely no one. Oh, that's not true.

Don't go!

Well, no one in matters or led on.

Amy told her that, didn't you? Come on,
let's order. I'll have a whiskey sour.

Oh, isn't that going to be difficult?

Difficult? A whiskey sour?

Well, if we all have something
different.

Oh, I see what he means.

Yes, reinforcements. Perhaps we can vote
on it. All the same thing.

I have voted, and I'm not being
democratic, just for convenience.

Well, what about the rest? Amy?

I really don't mind. Good girl. Dan?
You'll drink anything, right? Scott? OK.

Right, then so will I. Gus?

All right, but don't forget Margaret's
Perrier. Mm -hm.

Shall I? Oh, we would like one whiskey
sour, one Perrier water, a bottle of J

or Cutty Sark, some ice and soda. Happy?
Better make it two bottles. We'll need

them. Two bottles.

And quickly, please, if you can.

Yes, sir. Well, now, let's have a look
at the rooms.

All right, Margaret? Fine.

Right. Well, you have first, Dick.

Oh, yes.

I don't mind as long as the beds fit in
comfortably.

I do. You would.

Spoiled. Let's get it over. Don't fret,
darling. Your drink will be here soon.

God, I hate travelling.

Well, you've arrived.

Relax? Yes, that's true, isn't it? I
suppose we really have. What a relief.

All those passports and tickets and
airport buses and being buffed about.

Air hostesses.

I'd love to rape an air hostess. Really?
I don't mean about air hostesses. I'd

rather enjoy all that travel guff. You
what? Public school?

Now then, Dan, don't be chippy.

You're very lucky to be with your
betters. I know it. I hate the working

classes. That's why I got out.

Oh, you can never get out. I did.

They're an unlovable, whining,
blackmailing shower.

What's he talking about? Just being
chippy.

Oh, don't keep saying that. You should
see my horrible family.

I have. No, you're both being chippy.
We're both just saying we've got

families and that you're lucky to have
nice, gentle, civilised, moderate

like yours. Right, Dan?

Right. Oh, my goodness.

Class solidarity.

Anyway, my mother's not that hot. She's
divine.

You think so. She's just... Dull and
sporty.

She's not. She's extremely attractive
and intelligent.

Not like my mum. Scheming old turd.

And your mum's so ugly.

Telling me.

It's funny, really, because you're not.
She's beautiful.

Mine's got a very mean little face.

Celebrates every effect.

plays up all the time to the gallery, do
anything for anything, self -involve,

bullying. Come off it!

I suppose you think her face is pitted
by the cares of working -class life.

Well, it isn't. She's got that face
there because there's a mean, grudging,

grasping nature behind it. I don't know
why nice men don't like their mothers.

Gus likes his.

Well, that's because she's probably
nice.

She isn't that.

No, I suppose she isn't, really. And
he's a bit queer, too, remember?

That's true. Oh, I say, you are a big...
Well, so I am, but not as much as Gus.

What about Dan?

Oh, well, either less than Gus and me,
or much more.

He's more elusive. I mean, Gus is so
obvious.

Those clothes, that's real conservatism.

Are they awful?

You look dissy.

I think my mother would have put me off
women for life. I mean, just to think of

swimming around inside that repulsive
thing for nine months. Please.

But I think when I was quite young, I
must have decided she was nothing to do

with women at all.

And that's why the real thing was such
an eternal surprise. She'd love this.

usually butter her up. Oh, she doesn't
give a tutney fart.

Excuse me, I think I'm going to.

It's the idea of my mother.

Don't worry, I'll tell her before she
dies.

Well, no, I die. She'll outlive me for
years.

My mother would have made a good air
hostess. Your mother. Listen, my mother

should have been chief stewardess on
Monsters Airlines.

She'd have kept you waiting at every
bus, withheld information and liquor and

snapped at you and smirked at you
meaninglessly or simply just ignored

you ever thought about airlines for
homosexuals? Oh, I'd say what a splendid

idea.

We could call it El Fag Airlines.

Just to be a stewardess. Yes, we're
designing a divine outfit.

I feel better already.

Don't get carried away. The holiday's
only just started.

The great escape, you mean. You mean all
the air crew will be chaps. And the

passengers.

Why don't we start it?

Fly old fag, the airline that floats
just for him.

Not bad, is it? I'd say we're getting
our wind back, aren't we? Just start to

feel safe, I suppose.

We're really here.

Really here. I don't know who's more
astonished that we've scarpered, us or

whether he will be.

KL will be pretty astonished when he
finds out. Let's face it, so are we. We

seem a bit amazed by our own
naughtiness.

No, we're not.

Yes, we are.

Come on, you are.

No, we're relieved, unburdened. We
managed to slough off that monster for a

days. We've escaped.

We deserve it after all this time.

Just to be somewhere he doesn't know
where any of us are.

Can't get near us.

Call us, ring us, come round, write,
nothing.

Nix. For a few blessed days, no KL in
our lives. You make it more cowardly

it is.

So what if it is? No, it isn't.

We deserve to escape. After all, he is
the biggest, most voracious, poisonous

Machiavellian dinosaur in movies, and we
all know what that means. Quite.

Sorry, Amy, I know he's your boss.

Seems to be everybody's boss.

Poor Dan.

Yes, married to the boss's secretary.
That's probably the worst position of

You and I are in the same position.

I suppose we all play different roles to
the dinosaur, but they're still roles.

Amy adores him. Does everybody?

I do, and Margaret does.

Gussie can't live without him, and
Laurie just tries to pretend he can. I

I wonder if you will.

I have before, and it sure didn't kill
me.

I don't think I can bear any more
recrimination.

And the rest of us are still supposed to
be his friends. It's difficult, isn't

it? Well, perhaps Laurie can come to
some understanding. Not this time,

He's had it.

I don't know how we'll cope when we get
back.

Darling, we've only just arrived.

How muse he be.

Here we are, congratulating ourselves on
escaping from him, and we've hardly

stopped talking about him ever since
we've left London. Well, I wouldn't feel

flattered to hear what we've said.

They'd be amused, certainly.

Amy, you are sure?

Absolutely sure.

Because it would be great if he suddenly
walked through that door while we were

laughing and joking all together.

He won't. What a thought.

Poor Amy.

She's the real Judith amongst us. After
all, she is his secretary. We're

conspirators. Oh, I don't see that she's
been disloyal.

And so what if she has?

That cock's crowed a bit too often for
every one of us and everyone else. Those

he's victimised at one time or another.

Oh, he'll find another spare eunuch
knocking around London.

The world's full of hustlers and victims
all beavering away to be pressed in a

KL service.

Someone always wants to be useful or
flattered or gulled or just plain

slowly to death.

or cast out into the knacker's yard by
King Shamb.

No, let him go ahead and get himself
crucified this time. I know him not.

do you mean?

What I say.

He won't. He won't what?

Get himself crucified.

No, no, I suppose not. No.

Pity.

He'll be all right.

He'll find someone.

I think, do you know, we haven't looked
at the view yet.

It's rather good.

So it is.

We're really here.

I wish you'd stop saying that. Of course
we're here. You made all the superb

arrangements, didn't you? Here, here.
Thank you, Amy. Yes, thanks, Amy.

Screw the view. Come on, let's look at
the room.

Yes, we must do that now.

Well, won't KL be furious when he can't
get hold of you over the weekend? He

knows you never go away.

I said I was staying with some relatives
in Yorkshire.

But you're a hopeless liar.

You're so transparent.

I hinted it was really a lover.

Oh, he'll like that. More demolition
round the joint. Yes, he was rather

intrigued. So he didn't ask any
questions. Not even where to get hold of

I said there was no phone.

But I'd ring him.

Then won't you have to?

Well, of course, he'll be furious when I
don't.

I'll have to say I wasn't well.

Well, that won't wash. He'll ring Dan to
stir it up.

I don't think he'd do that.

He wouldn't want to mess things up if he
really thinks I've got a lover and Dan

doesn't know about it. Don't fancy your
first morning back with the boss all

deprived and rejected of men all weekend
and you not on the phone with a bit on

the side you haven't even confided in
him.

He'll be very hurt.

Oh, dear.

Yes, he will.

Well, so what? Say you had the curse and
it ruined the entire rendezvous.

That'll appeal to him.

Wouldn't wash.

He knows my calendar better than I do.

That was your miserable little face, you
mean.

Oh, aren't they charming?

Did you know that air hostess have holy
travail with a curse? Really? Good.

It has literally to do with the air
pressure or something.

Good, jolly good.

Either they don't get it for months on
end and worry themselves to death in

they're up about. As your pregnant air
hostess, think how high and mighty she'd

be, putting her feet up, pecking at all
the customers' canapes. Or they get it

twice a week.

Do you mind?

I feel a pain coming on. If you did,
then perhaps you wouldn't jeer at poor

little Amy when she's boo -hooing all
over KL's office.

Thank God they don't have women pilots.

The Russians do.

Oh, remember, never fly Rusky Airlines.

Keep to LFAG. You may go up front and
see a little bundle of Russian misery

crying its eyes out over the controls.

All misted up, locking herself in the
loo.

Worse than seeing a little yellow face
turn round and grin at you. Like Lost

Horizon.

Our bloody drinks are lost.

Do you suppose he understood us?

Of course he understood us. This isn't
Bournemouth.

Ah, there we are.

Good evening.

Good evening, sir.

Now you can relax.

I say, this is Hague.

Didn't you order... It doesn't matter.
It'll take hours. You know what they're

like. Are you sure? Sure.

Open it, please, would you? Yes, sir.

I'm sure he'd change it if we asked him.
Laurie would die of embarrassment apart

from anything else. It's all right.
Leave it. I'll do it.

One whiskey, sir?

Oh, thank heavens for that.

Thank you, darling.

That's all for the moment. Oh, Perrier,
yes.

Thank you, sir. Good evening.

Good evening.

I don't think he approved of us much.
Did you think so? I got that feeling.

Thanks for asking, Ollie.

I thought he thought the girls were
probably OK, but not us. Perhaps he

we're none of us married.

Oh, yes, having a real mucky weekend,
gangbang stuff.

He looked very suspiciously at you.

Oh, did you think so?

I noticed it.

Thought you were a bit effeminate, I
expect.

Yes, perhaps he did.

I think it's these bloody trousers,
darling.

You said I should throw them away. They
don't do anything for me, do they?

Nothing desirable.

Darling, you've always looked rather
effeminate. You and Laurie both do in

different ways. Oh, but Laurie carries
it off somehow. I don't. Especially to

foreigners. Some of your maths isn't a
charm.

What do you mean?

I don't know. A kind of mature softness.
And peacockery. Yes, a bit uneasy, but

very gallant and foursquare all the
same.

Doesn't sound too bad.

It's lovely.

You're quite right. I know foreigners
think like that. It's hell when I'm in

America. They think I'm Oscar Wilde.
It's very flattering.

And don't you play up to it. Well, I
mean, you just have to, don't you? It's

like they expect to see the changing of
the guard.

Thank heaven for the charm and
femininity of the English male, I say.

Well, American women certainly don't
have it. Poor sobs. I'll drink to that.

Perrier, yeah.

I like it.

Right.

Everyone's glasses charged.

Well, here we all are. Here we all are.

Here's to all of us. All friends.

And all together.

Unnaturally.

No, it's not natural. It's bloody
unnatural.

How often do you get six people,
different as we all are, still all

all friends, and they all love each
other?

After all the things that have happened
to us, like success to some extent,

making money.

Some of us.

It's not bad.

It's bloody good.

Everyone's married couples nowadays,
thank heavens we're not that.

You're drunk already.

Do you know what I mean? Yes.

To us, and may the good Lord bless and
keep us. And preserve us from the

dinosaur film producer. I'm not sure I
can quite drink to that. It's a problem.

Well, suit yourself.

That's better.

Isn't it good? Yeah.

Are you all right, Amy?

Fine. Guilty?

No. I'm forgetting it till Monday. I
wonder if you will.

I'll give her a chance.

Dad?

Smashing. Yes.

You know what?

I think people who need people are the
ghastliest people in the world.

Absolutely. We all just happened to find
one another at the right time.

Well, that sounds a bit Jewish, showbiz.

I thought it was a rather tense Anglo
-Saxon sentiment myself.

I mean, you couldn't sing it. You could
try. It'd be rather mediocre.

No, you couldn't belt out a rather
halting little comment like that. It's

poetic, just a smallish statement about
six unusually pleasing people.

Well, five? God, am I getting fat?

You've always been fat.

Really? Have I? I've deceived myself.

Very attractive.

Pleasing. More pleasing than kale?

Yes.

I don't know about more attractive.

Oh,

we really are lucky.

I mean, it's a splendid hotel and a
lovely suite.

Which you can't afford.

Oh, you don't have to. I can.

So can Gus.

You made all the arrangements.

And Dan is going to do all the talking.

I think they all speak English.

Yes, you must admit, it's better than
that rotten Paris.

I suppose we're all what's called
spoiled.

What do you mean, spoiled?

Well, first -class hotel, great suite,
anything we want to drink.

We're spoiled about that? I'm certainly
not spoiled.

I work my drawers off and get written
off twice a year as not fulfilling my

early promise by some philistine squirt
drumming up copy.

Someone who's got about as much idea of
the creative process as Dan's mother and

mine rolled into one lazy -minded lump
of misery who ever battened off the

honest efforts of others. Right as
they're born to be reviled.

No, they're not. They sit in judgment on
themselves all the time without calling

in outside help.

to be loved and cared for and given
money.

Oh, we all love you and you've made lots
of money.

Where would KL be without me? Where will
he be without me to write his lousy

pictures? Pretty all right, I guess.

And without Gus here to edit them into
making sense and cover up his howlers.

Of course, I suppose you'll go on doing
it. Well, not this one.

Besides, he hates it if I make money. I
think he tips off the tax man.

We don't live in Switzerland, any of us,
do we? More sense.

But still, loaded with distinction, not
a CBE to go round.

When I think of the rotten dollars I've
made. And KL.

Well, Lolly doesn't worry him. He just
spends it.

You just round up a few people like Gus
and me here. You turn them up on the

gas. And if you suck around the blood
counter at the supermarket long enough,

you've produced another picture.

And you go on doing it. What I do, I get
out of the air.

Even if it's not so hot, always. I put
my little hand out there into that void

there. Look at it. Empty air.

It's like being a... Bleeding conjurer
with no white tie and tails.

Air. Hot.

It never pays what it costs.

No, I'm feeling quite relaxed now,
actually.

Are you sure you won't drink?

I do keep telling you.

Sorry.

Actually, I do speak Italian rather
beautifully, don't I, darling?

Yes, poor vocabulary, but they don't
mind if you make it up. They love it.

English actresses, very charming,
crumpet of the world.

Because better English writers, famous,

connoisseurs, big.

Many experiments without tomatoes,

yes.

Oggi declaramento attrici inglese
crampetto, eleganti,

insesiabili, splendido lasagna verdi.

Alemania, basta!

Basta per tutto popolo.

Ecco i leoni!

Well, I think I'm going to sort the
rooms out. Oh, leave it. I want to

Oh, all right. And I expect the others
do, unless they want an Italian lesson.

Shall we go to an Italian restaurant
tonight?

Sounds good.

Shouldn't we try one of the local
hostelries? Yes, I expect you're right.

too fat for what food?

That food's rather heavy.

Enormous portions, good beer.

I've got an information thing here. Oh,
heavens, don't let's start on that

already. Oh, well, we have to make a
decision. I don't see why.

Or we might want to book a table or
something, if you want somewhere good.

You both make it sound so difficult.

Oh, my dear Annie, it is difficult.

I can't think of anything that comes
easily. It's all difficult. You need one

those things that fortifies the over
40s. I'm not over 40. Well, you look it.

What are you trying to do to me? No, you
don't. You look like a teenager.

Yes, a plump, middle -aged, played -out
grotesque. Never believe in mirrors and

newspapers. I thought I got the mirror
fixed.

I need another one after that. Come on,
let's explore this place. See what we've

got for our money.

Annie?

Over 40s.

I heard a disc jockey the other day
introducing a pop version of the Roses

Picardy. Picardy, he said.

Where's that?

Do you ever look to see if your
birthday's listed in the Times? Always.

And is it?

They missed me out the year before last.

Seemed like an obituary, only no notice.

Because when you do something, or try to
do something, or take a look at someone

else's efforts, you ask yourself,

like I ask myself, is there something
there that wasn't there before?

Well... I picked the damn newspaper up
and it seems as if I hadn't even been

born anymore.

Do you ever get a little lace curtain in
front of your eyes?

Like little spermy tadpoles paddling
across your eyeballs?

No?

Is that drink or eyesight?

Drink. You ought to watch that.

Oh, I've been watching it for years.

Fascinating.

And tell me, do you ever either of
you... Well, you wouldn't, Amy, but Dan,

you ever wake up with your fingertips
all tingly and aching?

No.

Do you ever wake up with an awful burn
in your stomach?

Yes. He often does.

And then what do you do?

Get up.

Work.

Paints if it's light.

This is about five o 'clock, is it?
Usually.

You can actually work, can you?

Not always.

And do you wake up, Amy?

I usually wake up.

And then?

I make coffee.

Or give him a glass of milk.

And have a bit of a chatter.

That's it?

Until it's time for it to get off to KL?

I'm afraid I usually need a drink.

It's the only thing that burns it out.

I need to weld my guts with a torch.

And then about nine it eases off.

I read the post.

Try to put off work.

Have a so -called business lunch. That's
a good waste of time.

And then I know I'm going to have to
sleep in the afternoon.

Does Margaret get up when you're like
that?

Oh, she can't, poor old thing.

See, she can't get off to sleep, so...
By the time I'm about to toss her

downstairs reading last night's paper,
she's only just managed to get off.

Especially now.

When she's pregnant.

So I'm afraid we're a bit out of step
with sleep.

When I was 18, I used to sleep 14 hours
on Sundays if my mother would let me. My

mother made too much noise.

If only you can find enough energy.

Where do you find it? Where's the
spring?

You're loaded with it.

You've got far more than Dan.

No, I have not. Dan, he doesn't need
energy.

He runs perfectly efficiently on
paraffin oil.

You'll fill him up once a year. He's a
light for the next 12 months.

With me, I need that super quality high
thing stuff poured into my tank twice a

day. And look at KL.

He's unstoppable.

You don't have to wind him up. He just
goes like that.

He gets very worn out.

Yeah, I should think he does.

If I did what he does in a day, I'd be
in bed for a month.

It delegates.

Oh, yes. The operator's alchemy. Where
do you get it? He takes it from us.

We could be giving it to each other, but
he's been draining our tank, filling

his own, filling up on all of us,
splitting us up. What?

To each other? A little vitality.

We're all right. We're on hold so we can
recharge.

Yes, we've got a way.

Well, the rooms are fine. You and
Margaret are having that one, Gus and I

one, and we decided that Amy and Dan
should have the one with the view. It's

nice. Are you sure?

Well, they're all nice. Now we can get
our stuff in. Gus has done nearly all of

it already.

Gus? You are a darling.

Honestly, you two letting Gus do all the
carrying.

Good for his figure.

Typical. It's bad for my kidneys. Are
you going to help me unpack?

Do you want me to?

No, don't think so. I can.

Don't doubt it. Shall I talk to you
while you do it? No.

Talk to Dan and Gus. I think I'm going
to lie down for a bit. Let me.

Please, stay where you are.

Ours won't take a second.

You seem to have brought an awful lot of
stuff.

What are you going to do? Play golf?
Hunt or something?

It's mostly gutter stuff.

Medicines. All chemists' counter.

You got my easel?

Yes. Right.

Just in case.

I'll never use it.

Working on your own.

I could never live on my own.

I mean, I have done for a time, but...
What about every now and then? The steep

drop and no one there.

And no one to phone. Or too far away.

Or too early in the morning.

Well, that's one of the few good things
about movies. You do work with others.

I suppose we have made the right
selection.

Over the rooms.

Oh, who cares? It'll all be the same.

I just thought Margaret ought to have a
nice one if she's not sleeping.

Gus, I know you mean well, but please
forget about it.

I say, old Amy won't get the fat when
she gets back to KL.

Nah, he relies on her too much. Do you
mind?

Mind? I shouldn't think you see much of
her. His nibs keeps her at it seven days

a week.

He pays her well.

More than I earn.

It works out.

I don't think that would suit me.

And he can't see all that much of you.

Oh, a fair bit.

He tries to keep me away from her, mind
you. You know, don't bother to drive

home, stay here, and we'll make an early
start at breakfast, but I hardly ever

do.

I need a bit of looking after, I'm
afraid.

I hate staying in other people's houses.

Unprepared and all that. No shaving
stuff or someone else's. And I don't

really, sleeping on my own.

Somehow, well, the quality of the sleep
is different. Do you know what I mean?

I can sleep anywhere. I think I know.

More drink before they get back.

It does seem a little unfair to drink so
much in front of Margaret. It isn't.

Just don't say so.

No? All right.

Well, here's to all of us.

Amsterdam, what a brilliant idea of
yours. You'd never think of here. No?

No, not his sort of place, I'd have
thought. Not much night, though.

A few bank managers dancing with each
other and that's it.

Sorry!

Would you? Thanks.

Hello, this is room 320.

Could I have two large bottles of
Perrier water?

And, oh, yes, some ice.

And a bottle of Cutty Sark. You brought
Haig last time.

Yes. Thank you.

All fixed.

Thanks.

Oh. No one wants to buy an English
newspaper, right?

Right.

It's not your birthday, is it?

I wonder why she didn't ring down
herself.

Unpacking, I suppose.

Hey, what are you all doing in there?

Unpacking. What do you think?

Well, come back in.

Come in.

Margaret, we're all missing you. We're
on our own.

and there are only three in here. Bad
luck.

We love you.

Why have you gone and left us?

We came here to be all together and you
all disappear off into the bedroom or

bathroom and dolly about with your
rollies and skin tonic. Come back in

You're needed.

Yes, come back.

It's a lovely room, Dad. Go and look at
the view.

I will.

You deserve a lovely room, my dear. Come
here, give me a kiss.

Just for arranging everything, if for
nothing else ever.

Not a hitch.

That was easy.

Cale's got a good travel agent. Oh, you
didn't use him?

You won't let on.

I briefed him. Oh, good girl.

Well, if you do lose your job, you can
come and work for me.

Have a drink.

Won't be as exciting as KL, but you get
more time off.

That's him. He's found out where we are.
You've bungled it.

Come in.

Scusi, scusi.

Momento, momento.

Tutti in bagno.

Basta.

Whiskey sour?

No, no.

Cutty shark.

Annie, did you order a whiskey sour?

Yes.

Don't forget about me. Why didn't you
tell me? I've ordered.

Easier. Thank you. I ordered Cutty Sark,
Perrier and Ice. You won't forget.

Very well, sir.

Crossed lines.

All right, darling? Yes, everything's
out.

Anything from bowels to athlete's foot.

You know, there really is such a thing
as writer's cramp.

Sounds rather comic, like housemaid's
knee.

It's not funny if you're a housemaid or
a writer. Have you had it?

Naturally. And what's worse, I get
psychosomatic writer's cramp. You can

I've seen you. No, the commitment to a
media is horrifying.

It's like kissing someone for the first
time and then bingo, you're having to

slap the breath of life into some rotten
little fig of a human being that heaved

its way between you five seconds
afterwards.

Do painters get anything like
housemates?

Aching backs, I suppose, on murals and
things, do you?

Not much.

That's because you work at a controlled
pace, see?

Everything you do has rhythm, see?

Systematic, consistent, that's the
thing.

Mine, all over the place. Do you produce
the good?

Oh, but do I then? Oh, don't fish, you
know you do.

But what goods, I ask myself?

Can anything manufactured out of this
chaos and rapacious timidity and

carry -on really be the goods?

Should it not be, I ask myself.

Oh, what do I ask myself? Perhaps I
shouldn't be rhetorical and clutter

conversations with what do I ask myself.

But won't the goods be shown up by the
way of the manner of their manufacture?

How can they become aloof materials
shaped with precision, design,

logical detail, cunning, formality, and
so on and so on? And so on. You see,

you're not such a bad tailor.

No, I'm not.

There, you were fishy.

And I provide my own cloth.

Any clunkhead can cut.

I don't mean in your sense, Gussie.
What? Oh, no, no, no, you're right.

I have a feeling we're getting back to
KL. You said to leave him behind and you

won't. You will. Well, it is difficult,
you must admit. He rather makes one talk

about it. Perhaps we should just go back
to London and be with him after all.

I don't suppose he'd have us all
together.

Why were you doing your Pagliamo
Italiano again?

He thought it was KL.

That would have fooled him. He didn't
really, did he?

No. And he was in nothing so awful he
couldn't visit it on you. No one would

believe you've been loving friends for
ten years.

You can't be loving friends with a
dinosaur.

What are you, then?

A mouse. What else?

A mouse with the soul of a tiger.

Oh, a mouse with the soul of a toothless
bear.

What's Gus?

Gus? Oh, Gus is a walking, talking,
living dolphin.

Amy? Amy is an un -neurotic fallow deer.

And Dad?

Oh, Dan, it's a bit difficult.

Rather cool, absent -minded but
observant.

Orangutan!

Me?

You're a rather sophisticated mole who
keeps on pushing up the earth to contact

all her chums at the right place at the
right time.

And Margaret, what's she?

Oh, that's a difficult one.

Well, it's something quite pretty
attractive but efficient. Yes, a rather

earnest chimpanzee, practical, full of
initiative.

Inquisitive. I don't think chimpanzees
are very attractive.

Neither are moles.

Oh, yes, they are.

I'd love a mole for Christmas.

Perhaps you can buy rubber ones in
Amsterdam.

I don't think orangutans and, what was
it, fallow deer are very well matched to

meself. It's the sort of thing a
marriage bureau computer might come up

agree. I don't think he was very good at
it at all.

Dinosaur's good. That was easy.

Didn't characterise your dinosaur. I
will.

Don't. We know.

Perhaps he isn't the same dinosaur to
all of us. It's obvious, but perhaps

that's his little tiny dinosaur's trade
trick. Was that the waiter?

Yeah, wrong order. Your parier's coming.

Did you ring down?

Yes, we did.

We?

Well, Gus did.

It's the waiter.

He likes rough trade, don't you, Gus?

It's the beatings at that prep school
and the scrumming down in the mud and

being genuinely liked by the men, no?

I don't think the waiter's exactly my
dish, but I like the Dutch, I think.

seem rather nice, up to now. You've
hardly taken a fair sample, taxi

receptionists. air hostesses,
international.

No, but I think we're going to like the
Dutch.

I think we're going to have a lot of
time for the Dutch, as my horrible

said. I say, this is good, isn't it? No,
don't say it. We're really here.

Well, we are.

Come in.

Sorry, I thought we'd had enough of your
Italian spracher.

Ah, good evening. Sir?

Where would you recommend us all to eat
on our first night in Amsterdam?

Depends on what you have in mind, sir.

Well, what we have in mind is absolutely
the best.

Not necessarily the most expensive or
the most famous. What would you suggest?

It's difficult, sir.

There are many excellent places to dine.

I've got a tight list here, Gus.

More or less in order.

Yes, well, I just thought... Oh, I
should forget it. What? Amy's well

She always gets out a list of the six
supposed best restaurants for KL.

I've often wondered what he would have
done if his surname had been Young or Yo

or Yarrow. Why?

Because we would have called him KY.

You would.

What's KY?

Oh, gosh, those prep schools were tough,
weren't they?

Or did you use Matesman's Vaseline?
Because you do like it rough.

Oh. Oh.

Do you know what its legitimate, well
-intended use is?

Cleaning surgical instruments.

Do you remember that assistant KL had a
couple of years ago? Yeah, what happened

to him?

Stepped on the trap door in front of the
desk one day, I suppose.

Anyway... I don't remember him. Yes, you
do.

He was that English faggot he picked up
in Hollywood.

He was about 35. He was all tight pants,
white socks, greying hair.

Oh, and that expression.

Yes. I think you called him the Frozen
Madonna.

I called him Sybil, because he had a
crown of sibilants around his head.

He sounded like a walking snake pit.

I mean, you could hear him from one end
of the crush bar at Covent Garden to the

other, packed.

Anyway, Sybil told me that he went into
this chemist one day, and there was this

other faggot behind the counter, and
Sybil says to him... Very dignified.

I have a tube of KY, please?

And the assistant doesn't say anything.

Wraps up the package, gives it to him.
But as he pops the change into his palm,

he says, of fun.

Sybil said, I looked.

And I said, what?

Cleaning my surgical instrument?

Now, listen.

Listen. Listen.

Listen. I think Gus is quite right. I
think we should all have a talk about

we want to do and then make a decision.

That could take hours. Well, it mustn't.
This is our first evening. We've made

all this effort to get here and go
through all these elaborate conspiracies

to let KL know where we are. Amy may
have lost her job.

We haven't got all that much time.

Oh, I wonder where we're all going to
sit down and do this again. You said

I'd have belted you. Tomorrow, tomorrow.

Oh, come on. Come on, Amy, let's have a
look at your list.

I don't think we want to go anywhere too
ambitious tonight.

All right, Margaret.

I think we've been travelling, getting
out of London, and we need to go

somewhere fairly quiet, but very nice.

Oh, I don't know.

What have we got here?

We must go to the Rice Museum.

Yes, Gus, but not tonight.

Rembrandt's for the morning. And the
step -like diet.

And those Indonesian places where you
get 30 great dishes.

You're greedy.

Now, this looks the sort of thing.

Fairly conservative but attractive 17th
century surroundings, beautiful tables

and candles.

Sounds like us.

Tonight, anyway, lorry two.

Well, they all sound good, like the
waiter said. That one you said looks

Annie? Yes, that sounds what we'd like.
Gus doesn't like too much noise. He

can't eat and talk.

Anything will do us. Right.

Then let's get the concierge to book a
table as there's six of us and it may be

busy. But I'm on holiday. Amy will do
it.

We're all on holiday. Why should she do
it? I'll go and ring down. Give me the

list. Then we must talk about tomorrow,
what people want to do. I mean, some may

just want to sleep or do nothing. No,
Gus, I don't think that's right.

I think we should all try to do the same
thing.

Eddie, but we'll see what everyone says.

I can tell you what everyone will do.
Just talk about what to do and where to

and what to wear to do it, and we'll all
end up getting drunk at lunchtime in

the American bar and eating in the hotel
dining room.

Sounds delightful.

I suppose it isn't very adventurous.

Annie, you'll have to help me. We're
here. That's adventurous.

We'll talk about tomorrow.

Oh, I'll bring my guide.

Amy. Yes?

I know no one knows we're here, but we
might get one call for this room. If we

do, it'll be for me. Perhaps you should
tell them.

Save confusion. For you?

But we agreed not to tell anyone we were
here, except the blooming nanny, and

she wouldn't get through. Who did you
tell, for God's sake?

Gillian.

What did you go and tell your bloody
sister we were here for? Don't be silly.

I told her not to tell anyone we're
here. What did you tell her for? She's

one of us. Isn't she?

Well, she's not really anything to do
with KL.

And besides, she wouldn't like it. She
thinks we're all a bit flippant and

middle -aged. Not half as middle -aged
as her.

Oh, come on. You like her.

She's been having a bad time lately.

What bad time? I'm not sure.

With this affair she's been having. Oh,
fleecing another rich duke and clenching

her fist because she didn't lose her
cherry till she was 28 and she thinks

doesn't give satisfaction and she plays
barf fugues all night and she doesn't

wash her hair because it's all so
difficult.

Blimey, I think I complain.

She should get a public recognition for
all the suffering she undergoes, that's

all. Then she'd feel better.

She should get a gold... and sanitary
towel award.

Cale could give it to her at the
Dorchester with all the past winners

Well, I told her if things got too bad
to ring me.

You didn't say she could come here?

I said if things got too much for her,
I'd get her a room. Ah, lovely for your

friends. I don't think anyone will mind.

Well, did you ask them? You don't have
to ask your friends everything. Perhaps

you do.

Well, if she comes, we can all go home.

Why don't she and K .L. get together?

She's my sister, Laurie. I'm not having
anything happen to her just for want of

a phone call. She won't do anything to
herself.

Not until it's too late, like getting
laid.

I love her.

You can, just don't expect your friends
to.

Poor girl, what is it?

She's just...

A star wrecker of other people's
coveted, innocent little weekends.

Oh, if she turns up, we'll look after
her. She can't spoil anything. It's all

right. Of course it's all right. I know
how to deal with Gillian. Put her to

bed. That's the best thing. It's a long
way to come to go to bed.

I mean, I know people go to New York for
haircuts.

Let's not argue, darling. I'm sure it
won't happen.

She doesn't want to worry me.

She wants to worry everybody!

Listen, Laurie, darling, we're all
together. We've got days ahead. Nobody

where we are except your daft nanny now.
She's right. Look.

I'm sure that restaurant is first class
and tomorrow we'll do just as we like.

And we'll go round the live plane and
the Rembrandt's plane.

Oh, and the discotheques and the...
Drink up, Laurie, then you'll feel

shall, I shall. I feel better already.
OK, I wouldn't like this at all, would

he? He'd have wanted to be out on the
streets by now, not just sitting around

talking. What would he do? Exhaustily
three times as long as Amy's in half the

time. Play games into the night. Games
with victims. I mean, he'd hate this,

just us sitting around.

Well, as we're all here because of him,
because of him, let's drink to him.

Don't go yet, Amy.

Ladies and gentlemen, to our absent
friend.

What's the time?

Six o 'clock.

He must have rung somebody by now.

Why don't you all have a little viz
before we go down to dinner?

Good idea.

You may not know we're all gone yet. Not
all together, anyway. I should think

he's gone to Paris or something.

Anything. And then when we get back,
make us all feel just a little bit

Well, we just tell him we went away for
the weekend.

Do we have to tell him everything?

What am I saying?

What about Amy?

That's up to her.

No, he'll be adroit. But he'll also be
maladroit because he won't be able to

resist trying to discover where we've
been or who we're. Perhaps he won't

Like you said, it's not exactly his idea
of fun. Oh, God, he'll be pleased and

amused. He'll appear to be innocent,
rational, ill -used, slightly

impatient. Trouble is, he creates
excitement.

Well, not half enough.

Perhaps we're all second -rate, and
second -rate excitement sort of heats

inadequacies. He takes nothing out of
the air around his head.

Only us.

He insinuates his grit into all the
available oysters, and if ever any tiny

pearls should appear from these tight,
invaded creatures, he whips off with

them, appropriates them, and strings
them together for his own necklace.

Only the pearls have to be switched.

Or changed about.

Otherwise the trick, the oyster
rustling, would be transparent.

And the last thing he wants made known
is his own function or how he goes about

it. Where does he get the damned energy
and duplicity? Where?

No.

He's tried to split us up.

But here we all are in Amsterdam.

And he's made himself the endless object
of speculation which is useful to him

and humiliating for us.

Well, no more, my friend.

We will no longer be useful to you to be
put up and to be put down.

We deserve a little better.

Not much, but better.

We've been your friends.

Your stock in trade is marked down in
your blackmailing, sneering,

your callousness, your malingering, your
emotional gunslinging, your

shooting in the dark places of
affection.

You trade on the forbearance, the
kindliness and talent

of your friends.

I simply hope that tonight you are
alone.

I know you won't be.

But I hope at least that you will feel
alone.

As alone as I feel it. As we all in our
time feel it without burdening

our friends.

I hope the telephone system is
collapsed.

That your chauffeur is dead.

the housekeeper drunk, and that there
isn't one conman, camp

follower, pimp, eunuch, mercenary, or
procurers of

all things possible, or one
globetrotting bum boy at your

side to pour you a drink on this dark
January evening.

Well, amen.

Gosh, it started to snow.

I think I'm the only one that believed
any of that.

Good. All the better. We can get snowed
up.

I think I'm going to have this.

Yes, I should. Then we can discuss the
alts later. Yes, we'll discuss them.

Sorry. I'll just finish this.

I don't want to go out too late.

I'll book the table.

I can't have one, too.

I'll finish a drink first.

Well, I'm glad it's flowing.

How I hate holidays.

Those endless clouded days by the pool,
even when it's blazing sun.

Do you remember doing it all together at
KL's villa?

We drank everything you could think of
from breakfast onwards after that vile

French coffee.

The deadly chink of ice in steamed
glasses all day.

Luxury. Spoiled people lounging
together, basting themselves in

comfort, staring into pools.

Swimming pool's a terrible thing to look
into on a holiday.

It's no past.

It's no future.

You can stare into a river or a stream
or a ditch, and who wouldn't rather die

in a... ditch than a pool.

I'm too fat for pools and those pretty
girls with their straps down and

their long legs just make me long for
something quite different.

I always want someone to write me long
exhilarating love letters while I'm

there among the others.

A handwritten envelope by your towel.

Curling up.

We didn't get on too well that time, did
we?

I'm sure it wasn't our fault.

Too many games.

Too many bloody games, and we expected
too much of the sun and of each other

disappointed KL.

Well, he asked us all again.

Yes!

I read somewhere recently, one of those
communications people, the men who tell

you what it is we're all feeling now
because of the media, said that marriage

and romanticism was out, at least with
the young people.

I suppose it was on the way out when we
came in.

I wonder where we ought to go to live.

All those sleepy -eyed young mice
squeaking love, love.

scudding into one another, crawling over
each other, eyes too weak for bright

light, tongues lapping softly, all for
love.

A boy's tale here, a girl's tale there.

Litters of them.

Think I'll take a look at my things.

Is he all right?

Yes, you know, Dan.

I think he may be a very violent man.

Dan?

Fools make him suffer, so he paints or
reads a book. Or goes into his fallow

deer. Don't blame him.

Well, perhaps you'd better come with
your own.

Oh, God, whatever I was. Yes.

Well, shall we say, uh, 7 .45, first
drink? Well, not first drink, really.

19 .45 hours, first drink.

Good.

Where's my, uh...

To have a bath, I suppose.

Not sleepy?

Oh, yes.

I wish I could live alone, do you?

No.

I never have.

I have sometimes.

It can be all right for weeks on end
even, but then you have to crawl out of

well.

Just a circle of light in your own voice
and your own effort.

People underestimate Gus, I think.

Do you think you do?

No, I don't think so.

Doesn't it exhilarate you, like KL?

No. No?

Gus has created himself.

He thinks he's nobody.

He thinks he behaves like it.

Result? Himself.

Do you think Margaret's all right?

No.

Is there anything I can do?

She doesn't like being pregnant.

Who does?

A few moohish ladies. She feels invaded,
distorted, about to be destroyed.

God, why do you both do it, then?

We look like this with the others.

I thought we might get pleasure from it.

She thought I would get pleasure.

And you haven't.

Perhaps they're like holidays or hotels.

Not hotels.

You can't live without them.

I love Gus very much.

I think he really believes that most
people are better than him.

I only suspect it.

He loves you.

Good.

Try not to be too restless. Don't do
that.

What were we all doing this time last
year? Were we all together or were we

separate?

Separate.

Wonder what we were all doing.

Well, have a good evening. I feel better
already.

Snow's stopped.

Good.

7 .45 then.

Try and kit.

Yeah, I will And

you honey

So what's the schedule for this evening?
I don't care.

Neither do I. Everywhere's been good. I
know, isn't it weird?

Shouldn't they be?

Well, if we came up with an absolute dud
at this stage, we could hardly

complain. I must say, that list of yours
has been infallible. Brilliant. Oh,

smashing. Not a dud. I say, we've had
quite a time, haven't we? Friday evening

seems weeks away. So does KL. Right
after the first evening, not a foot

We're jolly lucky.

I mean, even that Indonesian place was
quite funny.

Actually, it was a lovely feast of
colour.

All those dishes.

How many do you think we actually got
through?

I think Dan had a bit of the whole 30 or
whatever it was. It still looks as lean

and clean as a brass rail. And we
managed to get Loy around to the

without too much bitterness.

Yes, I felt at home in all that non
-conformist Gothic.

Then there were the Rembrandts. Yes, but
we needed a drink after that.

I keep thinking about him watching his
house being sold up. All those objects,

all those pieces and possessions got
with sweat, all going.

And his child's dead. What was his name?

Titus. I like the place with the bank
managers dancing together.

That's because you danced with that
chambermaid from Hanover. It's only

It seemed a bit churlish just to go and
gawp like a tourist. I think it was very

mean of you not to dance.

No one I fancied.

She's right, you got frightfully stuffy
and absent -minded all of a sudden. I

was worried about you and that lady in
the black dinner jacket.

You didn't show it.

I don't know what I'd have done if Garth
hadn't protected you. She really

fancied you, didn't she? I say, I've
never seen anything like it. She was

queer for pregnant girls.

I thought that would have put her off.

Not at all.

What about tonight, then? Oh, yes, we
must make a decision.

Amy, where's your list?

Let's have a look.

What are the odds? We've still got lunch
tomorrow.

Why don't we stay the extra day?

We've done all that. Yes, Amy must get
back. But why don't see it? Because she

doesn't want to lose her well -paid job,
but she also likes it. And she has

obligations. What obligations?

Look, you don't have obligations to
monsters. What about this one?

I don't know. Why don't we go to the
place we went to on the first evening?

was wonderful.

Well, at least we know it's first rate.
You do think it's a bit unadventurous,

do you? Yes, let's chance our arms. Why
should we? I agree. I think we should

try something different.

What for?

Oh. Not that I mind. You girls are so
ambitious, even if it's for others.

escaped, didn't we? I haven't laughed so
much for months. Have you, darling? You

said nothing, I... I still think we
should go back a day later. No. Amy can

it. Of course, why don't you?

I could go.

It seems silly when you're having such
fun.

Dan, you could stay with them. I think
we voted on that one.

Oh, no, we have not.

I wonder when we're all going to sit
down like this again.

Damn it, we've done it enough times
before.

Sure, we'll do it again.

But when?

How? Where?

How do we arrange it?

I don't want to go back to London.

Who does?

No, I mean it.

What is there for any of us?

We should all go and live together
somewhere.

Where, for instance?

Somewhere you didn't have to pick up the
phone for room service?

Well... We need a broken -down Victorian
castle or something. Oh, with all the

plumbing and jazz you wanted, but lots
of space around us.

Acres of land around us.

Empty, chipped and scarred still by
Roman legions. Sounds freezing.

What would you prefer? A sonic bang up
your lush southern parkland?

We could do what we liked. We could have
lots of children.

There aren't many of us. Well, we'll
think of some others. Who?

K .L. would find out about it. Let him.
You'd all come, wouldn't you? What about

staff? Good question.

You'd need lots of nannies.

Yes.

Well, we'll get ex -stewardesses from El
Fag Airlines.

They're absolutely wonderful nannies.
Poor old things will work for absolutely

nothing if you get a really rejected
one.

And the rest of the staff?

Well, they'll have to be people we know,
people who fit in with all of us.

I would learn carpentry. I've always
wanted to do that.

And bricklaying. I could work on the
house.

Gus knows all about electricity.

Margaret could drive.

Except we wouldn't use the car much.

Annie's the great horse expert. We could
use them. Maybe even hunt if we got

over our greenbelt liberal principles.

And Dan, Dan could just paint.

Well, who do we know? Well, we ought to
make a list.

That's one thing to realise. We've
escaped from Margaret.

My relatives and all those layabout
people I've paid to look after us so

the theory being, we are able to do
other things, not bother with the

inessentials because we've made it. I
thought your nanny was good. She's very

good. Yeah, only she doesn't look after
me. She looks after two creatures who

don't even know yet they're being waited
on. I thought you didn't like being

waited on. I don't, but if I pay for it
in the home, I expect it.

tiny babies.

Oh, darling, don't say tiny babies.

All babies are tiny compared to people.

Even if they have to be landed like
killer sharks, they're still tiny.

No, but what I hate about them, it's
like my relatives and KL, you always,

you're expected to adjust to their mood,
their convenience, their bad back, or

I don't know, I'm just depressed.

What are they going to be like when I
ring the bell, when I open their

They never anticipate you. He does never
anticipate for himself. How? He's

always taken by surprise by situations
and other people's reactions.

Laurie rehearses them all.

Am I?

He was cutting some trees down the other
day just by the pond and he kept taking

a step back, just about a foot away from
the pond.

Look out for the pond, I'd say to him.
What? Oh, yes.

Then he'd do it again.

Don't forget the pond. No.

All right.

I was a bit surprised.

I watched him for two days and then I
thought, I can't kill one, I'm going to

have to leave him to it.

He missed the pond by inches the whole
morning and then fell in.

You're quite right.

I was surprised when it happened.

The mistake is to feel guilty. That's
always been my mistake.

He's driving you around because you're
cleverer than he is. And though I

think... He can't even drive as well as
I can.

That's why he's a servant, she says.

Well, why can't he be a good one, I say.
I wouldn't want him to wait on me.

I don't know, though. I mean, why do it
at all?

I suppose there are third -rate
servants.

Perhaps I've got the ones I deserve.

Like the relatives I deserve.

As the old saying goes, we're all bloody
servants.

That's right.

Deliver the goods or the chopper.

I suppose that's right.

Do we deliver the goods? If someone's
cooked your meal decently, woken you and

been able to smile, well, that would be
delivering the goods. It's a word.

Are we spoiled? Staying in a luxury
hotel on the continent because you're

of your servants.

Well, that does make it sound stupid,
very.

But that wasn't the main reason. Yes.

And I just send my nasty relations a
cheque. I never see them. They certainly

don't want to see me.

What are they?

Rotten retired grafting publicans, shop
assistants,

ex -waitresses.

They live on and on, having hernias and
arthritic hips and strokes.

But they go on writing poisonous letters
to one another and complaining and

wheedling and paying off the same old
scores with the same illiterate sighs.

Dear Laurie, thank you very kindly for
the cheque. It was most welcome, and I

was able to get us one or two things
we've had to do without for quite some

time. What with me being off work all
this while, and the doctor sends me to

hospital twice a week. They tell me it's
improving, but I can't say I feel any

improvement.

How are you, old son?

Old son!

We saw your name in the paper the other
day about something you were doing, and

the people next door said they thought
you were on the telly one night.

But we didn't see it.

Rose doesn't get any better, I'm afraid.

I was able to buy her a quarter bottle
the other day with your kind remittance,

which served to buck her up a bit.

Your Auntie Grace wrote and says she'd
heard you and Margaret were having

another baby.

That must be very nice for you both. We
send our best wishes to you both and to

the other little ones.

Hope you are all well.

Must close now, as I have to take down
the front room curtains and wash them.

As Rose can't do it any longer.

But you know what she is.

Bung -ho and all the very best.

Excuse writing, but my hand is still
very bad.

Ever, your Uncle Ted.

P .S.

Rose says... Auntie Grace said something
about a letter from your mother which

she sent on, but I'm afraid she just
sent it back unopened. She just refuses

pass any comment. She told me not to say
anything about it to you, but I just

thought I'd pass it on to you.

Pass that on!

Oh, don't talk about them. They're so
depressing.

I think they sound quite funny.

No, they're not quite funny, Annie.
They're greedy, calculating, stupid and

totally without question.

They're just boring.

No, they're not that even. They're not
even boring.

Now, I am boring.

I'm quite certainly the most boring man
you've ever met in your life.

I can see you're not going to contradict
me, so I won't let you. Well, as a

matter of fact, I was going to
contradict you because I am infinitely

boring than you could ever be. Oh, no,
no, no, no. You're both drunk.

Annie. What?

You're called Annie and I'm called
Laurie.

What are we supposed to do?

Hadn't you thought of it before?

No, isn't it odd?

Did you?

No, not me. I don't think Annie
mentioned it to me one day.

Dan?

I've got used to it.

The trouble with being spontaneous, or
even trying to be, and I think one can,

the trouble is, it does leave you at the
mercy of others.

It's not the same thing as being a bull.

What do we ever go back to England for,
eh?

What do we ever do it for? Thought you
had trouble coming away.

It's the bitchiest place on earth.

That's the name of the place you come
from.

Ah. Now then, what have we decided?

About what? We haven't started anything
yet.

Um, um, um. I mean, what are we going to
do for our last night?

You didn't order anything, did you? No.

Probably the maid with all those clean
sheets for when we go.

Oh, come in!

No key. Well, if it's K .L., he's too
late.

We've done it.

Gillian?

Darling! Sorry.

I should have warned you. My darling,
what's the matter? You look ill. I

have a chance.

I'm all right.

I couldn't remember how long you were
staying. Why didn't you ring me? Come in

and sit down.

Take your coat off. No, no, no, no. I
think I'll keep it on. Oh, sit down.

the bloody thing off. It's hot in here.

I'm sorry.

I should have gone first.

I couldn't find the number.

Just the name of the hotel?

Laurie, give her a drink.

No.

No, I'll have a Perrier.

Don't tell me you're pregnant.

Give her one.

Just a small one.

Very small.

Hope you brought your own nose dropper.

Well, how are you?

Have you had a good time?

Fan -blinking -tastic. We've never
stopped laughing, have we? We've had a

marvellous time.

Why didn't you come earlier, Gillian? I
could have arranged it easily. Yes, I

think you'd have enjoyed it. We've done
quite a lot in an easy sort of way. Done

what we wanted. After discussion.

After discussion.

And all the places we've been to have
been tremendous fun, thanks to Amy's

I like that place where everyone sang
Tipperary in English. I think you'd have

liked it, don't you, Donna? I don't
think she'd have liked it much. Margaret

didn't.

No, well, Margaret didn't feel so hot
for a while.

I just can't stand the smell of beer and
all those awful smiling, ugly -looking

people. I think the men enjoyed it
rather more.

I loved it.

You even sang, as usual. What do you
mean the men liked it? I mean that

sometimes you try and fumble your way
back to your childhood while we watch

get impatient and wait for you to stop.

Perhaps you should try coming along.

Yes.

I'd like to go to the Rijksmuseum.

There are other things here besides
Rembrandt.

We needed a drink after him.

Drink?

Thanks.

Is that too much? No, fine.

Annie, I don't want you leaving, Annie,
because I'm an impoverished writer with

a wife, children, useless servants, a
family of ageless, begging letter

a trencherman nanny and three dogs as
big as you. I haven't yet found my

I write too much, not enough.

I've no real popular appeal. I take an
easy route to solution.

Stop being paranoid.

Why? If a man's ill, he isn't a
hypochondriac, and if he's attacked...

up, Laurie.

Can't you see there's something the
matter?

Who is? Annie? I told you, honestly.

Everything's fine.

I just thought I'd come suddenly.
Darling, I've known you all my life.

Something's very wrong. Do you want to
tell me? Oh, leave her be. I know her.

You don't. I wish I had come.

You all look as if you've had a super
time.

I'll bet we do now.

Tell me what else you've been doing. It
does sound good.

I've always wanted to come to Amsterdam.

Did you go on the canal?

Yes. And that modern art gallery,
whatever it's called.

Can't pronounce Dutch.

And the harbour.

Where it is where all the tarts sit in
the windows looking like dolls.

This hotel looks splendid.

They were terribly nice downstairs.

Do you know, they seemed to know all
about you lot up here.

They smiled the moment I said who I
wanted.

Do you think I could get a room?

Or perhaps I could get one down the
hall.

All I need is a little room. I suppose I
could come in here with you most of the

time.

Don't let me interrupt what you're
doing.

I'll just finish this and change, I
think.

Perhaps I could have a bath in your
room, Margaret, if Laurie doesn't mind.

What time are you going out? I don't
want to hold you up. Why, I needn't

Unless you're dressing up.

Oh, I could change in your room, though,
and see about the room later. Now, do

you know where you're going tonight?

Well, we were just discussing the alts.
Perhaps we should go somewhere you'd

like. Oh, don't change anything because
of me.

It's my fault for turning up like this.

Just do what you would have done by
yourself.

Please, don't let me change anything.
Gillian, for Christ's sake, burst into

tears.

Please, take no notice.

I'll get a room down the hall.

Drink, anyone?

Yeah, please.

Poor girl.

Just as well we're going tomorrow.

I wonder what it is.

Oh, either her lover's married and can't
or won't get a divorce or she isn't

married but she can't bring herself to
offer herself to something total.

Variations on some crap like that. Well,
I tell you, she's not going to blight

our weekend.

We've had ourselves something we wanted
to have and we've made it work.

She's not going to walk in here on the
last night and turn the whole thing into

a golden sanitary towel award
presentation.

I'm afraid she's done that. Well, we're
not going to let her.

Gus, flip through that list. We'll
decide where to go. She can come with us

put on a happy face. No, not that.

No, I agree. The miserable one's better.

You and Dan.

I can talk to her a bit about the
Rembrandts and painting and Dutch

architecture and what Marshall McLuhan
said to Levi Strauss while they were on

the job.

Otherwise, she can just shut up and
leave us to it. Or Margaret can stay

her arms around her in the bedroom all
evening.

Well, I don't think that's very fair on
poor old Margaret.

Well, I don't think her sister's been
very fair on us. That's not her fault.

No.

But Dan will talk to her and cheer her
up. He's good at that. Why should he?

Sure, I don't mind. Why should we? We do
less than Margaret's going to listen to

her and calm her down, and then we'll
take her out with us. She'll be all

But will we be?

If I didn't know better, I'd think this
was a last -minute trick at KL's eyes.

Blimey, she's turned it into an agony
junction, all right? Look at poor Gus.

Dan, have some more in there. Oh, she's
not such a bad girl.

She's brought London with her. Perhaps
we ought to go to the place we went to

the first night anyway.

I suppose so. I think she'd like it.
It's quiet and the food... Did you have

those herrings?

My chicken in that pastry thing was
wild. Oh, she'll be sick or pushing her

away or leaving it and pretending she's
enjoying it and filling us up with guilt

and damn responsibility.

Damn her!

We've just got together again and we
haven't got time to take off for her

cultish, barren...

Stiff, upper, quivering lips and... and
clarton!

Am I unsympathetic?

Yeah. Sorry, all of you. It's not your
fault. It's not anybody's fault.

Baudelaire said... Oh, I can't remember
now.

Someone said the other day...

What do you do if you live in San
Francisco, you're 21,

and you go bald?

I know. He said beauty was something he
only wanted to see once. She's quite

attractive. Gillian? Yes. Very.

Not as much as Margaret.

Pretty, don't you think? That's the
trouble. Well, she should take pretty

So should I.

I'm all water.

Heavy. Bit of underwater fire like North
Sea gas.

Not much earth or air either.

Oh, what a precious remark.

You see, that's her fault.

Did I tell you the one about the boy
with the crocodile shoes?

No, but I've heard it and it's too long.

Tell them the one about the nun in the
enclosed order. I wish I could remember

jokes.

Young nun enters an enclosed order with
a strict vow of silence that can only be

broken once every three years with two
words.

So three years go by.

She's brought before the mother superior
who says,

Hello, my child.

Three years apart since you've entered
this order.

You've kept your vile silence.

It's now your privilege to say any two
words to me, if you wish.

So the young nun pauses painfully and
says, Uncomfortable

beds.

Mother Superior says, Right, very well.

Back to work.

Three more years go by. Bought for
Mother Superior again.

Oh, hello.

Oh, you've been very quiet. Three more
years.

Privileged time once more.

Two words. Anything?

She hesitates and says, Bad food.

Mother Spears says, Right, very well.
Back to work. Get back. Back, back,

Another three years go by. Brought
before Mother Spears again.

Oh, hello.

She raises her eyes and after an effort,
She whispers,

I want to go home.

Well, says Mother Superior, I'm glad to
hear it. You've done nothing but bitch

ever since you got here.

You should go in and see how Margaret's
managed. No, no, I don't think anyone's

wanted in there.

Are you sure? Margaret will call me if
she wants me. Shall I knock?

No, leave them.

Did you like her, Amy?

Gillian? I don't really know her.

I felt sorry for her when she was
sitting there trying not to spoil

but doing it pretty well all the same.

Why did you ask Amy? Because Amy likes
nearly everyone. You make her sound

imperceptive, which she's not.

No, I think she's blessed with loving
kindness.

So, we've decided on the first night
place, Laurie. What? Yes. Well, we

so, Dan. Unless you'd like to suggest
something else, we thought...

Perhaps we'd better start getting ready
slowly, Amy.

Yes.

Right.

Now, you two really are a lecherous
couple.

Me? Me? Yes, you two.

You toddle off to the bedroom every
evening, 20 minutes before the rest of

Good for them.

Perhaps you simply organise things
better, is that it, Dan?

Hadn't really thought about it before.
Perhaps working efficient secretaries

make the ideal wives.

I mean, it does need fitting in with
everything else, after all.

How long have you been married?

Nine years.

Marvellous. Is it real?

Nine isn't so long. Some people have
golden weddings.

Golden sanitary towel weddings.

Now, I reckon Dan's pretty formidable.

I reckon if you had a look at Dan's
sexual graph of desire, you'd find it

steady, unchanging, up there with Nelson
on his column.

And it'd be mine.

Bumping about among the lions.

Wish it were true.

Well, get along then.

Actually, I wanted to write a couple of
postcards.

Are you? I don't think you should write
postcards from here somehow. I haven't,

deliberately. It seemed like giving
evidence we'd ever been here, all of us.

Yes. Well, go and do it, whatever it is.

Only don't keep us all waiting. Who kept
who waiting last night?

I did.

See you then.

See you.

See you.

1745.

What'll you do when you get back?

Oh, I don't know.

We weren't sure, were we, darling?

I've tried not to think about it.

Perhaps we should all have dinner the
first night back. Where could we go?

I'll ask Margaret.

That new place you took us to the other
week was rather good.

I wonder if KL's discovered it.

I hope not.

I expect he has.

I wonder if he'll ring when we get in.

Oh, he's sure to.

Perhaps he'll wait for one of us to ring
him.

Well, he can.

Well,

it works.

I

think

I'll go and have a bath.

A real bath, I mean.

What's the time?

Oh, yeah, 1745.

I'd better book the table, hadn't I?

Let's not disturb Dan.

I'll have one after you.

What?

A bath, my darling.

Oh, OK.

Well, I'll have one first, and then I'll
run one for you, and I can shave while

you're in it.

Right.

You might as well stay and have another
drink with old Laurie.

Oh, I'm fine. Perhaps she'd like a kip.

It's a bit late now.

Do you know what you're going to be
wearing this evening?

No.

Same as the first night, I expect.

Oh, yes, I see. I remember.

Only it helps me when I make up my mind
what to put on.

That blue thing, is it? Yeah, that's the
one. Well, that's good.

Right.

Fine.

See you then.

Your ale purple tie -dye. Oh, are you
sure? Sit here. It's not too... Yes,

divine. All right.

Annie gave me that. It's frightfully
pretty. She's got the most amazing taste

and flair in things like men's clothes.
In everything, come to that.

Except men.

Yes.

Well, blind spot and that's all.

I'll give you a call when I've run the
bath, darling, and I'll put some of that

oil in, shall I?

If there's anything, you know... I can
do it with Gillian. Just give me a

shower. Go and have your bath.

I want to see you properly turned out
for our last night.

Shall

I

go into Margaret?

If you want to.

You haven't been married before, have
you?

No.

I have.

Well, it's quite a well -documented
fact.

Yes, it's like having had a previous
conviction.

Of course, I lived with people before
Gus.

Many?

I don't think so.

Some would, but I don't think it was an
inordinate number, no.

I lived with each one an inordinate
time.

I wonder what my other wife thinks of
me.

She married again?

Twice.

I wonder what my name even means to her.

Ever see her?

No.

I dread bumping into her somewhere.

Even here. I thought I saw her the other
night in that smart place.

Why do you dread it?

I don't think she likes me.

Why not?

I imagine I wasn't very kind to her.

Weren't you?

I don't know. I wish I could really
remember. I try to. I hope not.

But I'm sure I was.

Doesn't mean you're... unkind.

Doesn't it?

Oh, come, just capable of it.

Like everybody.

Amy is never unkind.

I don't want to be like Amy.

Don't I?

We'll be all right.

When we get back.

Oh, yes.

Don't... grieve.

Annie Laurie.

I do?

I know.

You live with someone for five, six
years and you begin to feel you don't

know them.

Perhaps you didn't make the right kind
of effort.

So you have to make choices and
adjustments.

You have requirements to answer.

And then you see someone you love
through other eyes.

First one pair of eyes.

And then another.

And more.

And I was afraid to marry.

And I was afraid not to.

I'm not really promiscuous.

I'm just a molting old bourgeois.

I'm not very good at legerdemain
affairs.

Do you like Margaret?

Yes.

Have you been unfaithful to her?

Yes.

Enjoyable? Not very.

Often? No.

Not inordinately.

When was the last time?

Six months, just a few times.

Before that?

Not for ages.

What's ages?

When she was in the nursing home.

In the nursing home?

You mean not... Yeah.

I see.

Are you shocked?

No.

Surprised?

I thought you might say men.

You're not men.

I'd better go and change.

That's not cool. You have some more.

I wanted to tell you.

Have you?

No one knows. You won't tell Gus, will
you? I won't tell anybody.

Why have you wanted to tell me?

Why?

Because, to me, you've always been the
most dashing, romantic, friendly,

playful, loving, impetuous, larky,
fearful, detached.

constant woman I've ever met.

And I love you.

I don't know how else one says it one
shouldn't.

And I've always thought that you felt
perhaps the same about me.

I do.

When we're all away you're never out of
my heart. Nor you out of mine.

So there it is.

Ooh, it's snowing again.

Wonder what it'll be like back in
London.

God knows.

If we weren't going by plane, I'd say
perhaps it'd crash or we wouldn't be

to take off.

Well, we'd have longer on the train
together.

Together? Yes.

And we can all get drunk on the boat.

Well, perhaps we should all change and
go by plane after all.

I don't know... I

don't know that I can face the journey
with you there.

A touch of Gillian's.

A touch of the Annie's.

I love you.

I can never tell you.

Thank you for saying it.

Bless you, Amsterdam.

Wouldn't KL be furious?

Because it's happened or because he
doesn't know?

Both. I think he'll be envious that it's
happened.

I think he's suspected for a long time.
Oh, dear.

Oh. Yes, he doesn't miss much.

Do you think Margaret knows?

I think she might.

I would.

Then go.

No.

I think we need another.

Don't look at me.

Sorry.

I shall never be able to come back to
this place again.

Both the hotel, Amsterdam.

How is she? Oh, she's a little better.

Some of it came out. I don't know why
some people's lives have to be so

difficult. I'll tell you about it later.

Anyway, she's resting on our bed. I
thought she might be able to have a

visit. Then if she feels all right, she
can come out with us.

If not, I'll stay in with her.

Oh, no, you can't do that. We all have
to go out together on our last night.

have to. We'll see. We'd better get her
a room. Laurie, can you ring down and

ask reception if there's a single room
down the hall near us you can have? OK.

Like some Perrier?

No, thank you.

Laurie, are you all right?

Fine. No, you're not.

I can see.

Doesn't look well, does he, Annie?

Perhaps he's seasick already. No, it's
not that. Even Laurie waits until the

same day.

Who is it this time? What?

Oh, Gillian, it's too complicated now.
Nothing's too complicated now. Darling,

think you started drinking too early.
You started right after breakfast.

She saw KL.

Saw him? How? He asked around for a
drink. When was this? Friday.

I never thought he'd ring her.

She didn't tell him where we'd gone.
Yes, Laurie, I'm afraid she did.

Ah, she did.

The stupid dozy man. Oh, stop it,
Laurie.

It doesn't really matter as it's turned
out. I mean, he didn't ring or anything.

Ah, she told him the name of the hotel a
lot. Do you know how clever he is at

winkling these things out of people?

She said he seemed so concerned about us
all and she was so distraught about her

own weekend.

He managed to convince her we'd really
want him to know. Don't tell me she's

having an affair with him.

They deserve each other except he'd spit
her out in one bite. Listen, Laurie.

I'm worried about that girl. She's my
sister and I love her and I think she

very close to doing something to herself
this weekend. Don't you believe it? She

just models for it.

People like her don't go home and do it.

They choose a weekend when there's
someone likely to come round to the flat

they don't take quite enough.

Don't be such a bitch. Well, I am.

You certainly make the same noises
sometimes.

Sure she didn't spend the weekend with
our friend Kay? No, she was all on her

own. I should have found out she was
feeling like this. I'd have made her

with us. Ah, nice for us. Please, we're
alone. There are some problems you've

never...

I should have some!

Who the devil's that?

Well, you better answer it. She didn't
tell anyone else we were here. No, no

one. She hasn't spoken to anyone.

Well, pick it up.

Room number 320.

No, wait a minute.

It's for Amy.

Hello,

Paul.

Yes?

I see.

Wait a moment, let me think.

The number's in a bright green leather
book on his desk.

Yes, in the study.

No, I'll try and get a plane earlier.

No, don't do that!

Stay there and I'll call you back.

That was the chauffeur.

Kales killed himself.

He found him half an hour ago.

the chauffeur find a number?

It was written on a pad by his desk.

I suppose I better make some ticket
arrangements.

Have a drink first. Sit down.

Here.

Margaret.

I didn't hear someone on the phone, did
I?

Hale has killed himself.

How?

Sleeping pills.

Sleeping pills and aspirin.

Come on, have a drink.

You too, Jillian.

Dan.

Sleeping pills.

Aspirin.

Bottle of...

Half a loaf of bread to keep it all
down.

Give the housekeeper the weekend off.

Turn the extension off in your study.

And lock the front door.

Well, Chith.

I think I'll talk to them downstairs
from my room.

Save you having to listen.

I expect you'd all like to go back
together if I can fix it.

Of course.

I can wait here.

I wonder if we'll ever come here again.

To this hotel?

To Amsterdam.

I shouldn't think so.

But I expect perhaps we might go
somewhere else.

French comedy drama later tonight. Two
scriptwriters sit down to write a film

which becomes real as the story unfolds.
La TAC is in half an hour after the

final part of The National Trust at
Stonehenge for the summer solstice next.