Original subtitles

(INDISTINCT TANNOY ANNOUNCEMENT)

- TOM: Scarborough? - On the left, sir.

Now, there should be something up here.

This looks all right. There's a seat there.

(TRAIN HORN BLOWING)

- Okay? - Yes.

- You'll write or phone, won't you? - Yeah.

It's only for a week, Tom.

- Bye-bye, darling. - Bye. Bye.

- Look after yourself. - I will.

- And give my love to your grandmother. - I will. I will.

You go, now. Go on.

Go on, Tom!

- Bye-bye, darling. - Bye.

(MATT MONRO: "IF THERE EVER IS A NEXT TIME")

♪ If there ever is a next time

♪ Make it now

♪ While there's time to make you love me

♪ Show me how

♪ I can offer you the autumn of my life

♪ Please will you share it?

♪ And I can dress you in a veil

♪ That's made of dreams

♪ Will you wear it?

♪ You've been dancing round my mind

♪ Like a bright

♪ Carousel

♪ Though the carousel would stop

♪ I feel I knew you well

♪ Some days when I look at you

♪ I'm so sure

♪ I can see

♪ That the misty look of love

♪ On your face

♪ ls just for me

♪ If I'm wrong, it's nice pretending

♪ It may soon be my next time

♪ I can offer you

♪ The autumn of my life

♪ Will you share it?

♪ I can dress you in a veil

♪ That's made of dreams

♪ But will you wear it?

♪ If I'm wrong

♪ It's nice pretending

♪ It may soon be my next time ♪

(DOORBELL RINGING)

Come in, Miss Smith.

Don't weaken, Miss Smith.

Please.

The bedroom.

Or perhaps you would prefer the bathroom first?

Bathroom?

Yes, yes.

The bathroom is just along here.

(JANET SOBBING)

Miss Smith?

Please make yourself look

as though you want to be fertilised.

What a charming silence you make, Miss Smith.

What you need is a drink.

No pity.

With pity, a man is undermined.

Never again.

Never again.

Oh, God. What am I doing here?

Come along, Miss Smith.

Blow your lonely nose and come out of there.

If things had been the other way round,

and Tom had known about you,

he'd never have done such a horrible thing.

Horrible?

Secrets, guilty.

Yes.

But Tom would imprison you in his little house,

and kill you slowly of fatty boredom.

The lock doesn't work.

(CHUCKLING)

Come on, Miss Smith.

Make an effort.

Breathe calmly. Relax.

You'd think you were going to be asked to strip before tea.

I am not.

I certainly am not.

If that's what you think, I absolutely am not.

Well, give me your coat, then, as a token.

- Well, I'm doing my best. - 'Course you are.

There.

You have that.

Shall we?

The living room is just here.

Where one lives.

Excuse me.

Sit here, Miss Smith.

Calves of leg,

swelling thigh,

white breasts,

mouth of desire.

That's right.

That's the way I've seen you for...

nearly two years.

With my door open just a crack.

Sitting at your desk,

with your knees always neatly together.

I have a headache.

You have a headache?

Haven't you an aspirin or something?

You'd like an aspirin?

Mmm.

He's mad!

Aspirin.

Who would've suspected him?

I mean, nobody hardly noticed him.

I never did.

(CLATTERING)

Aspirin.

- Where? - In the tea.

- Oh, I don't want them in the tea. - Ah. Erm...

They fell in.

Er... Try it.

I'll take that. Tea.

Why me?

Why did you pick on me?

Because you were there to see,

to look at,

but never to touch.

Why don't you drink your tea?

Were those old aspirins?

Yes.

Ah, yes. They may taste funny. Mmm.

- Why do you keep staring at me? - Because now I can stare at you.

- I can even touch you. - Only because you're forcing me.

Miss Smith, our agreement

says that you are supposed to look happy and willing.

Happy?

I'm supposed to be getting married in three weeks' time.

Suddenly I'm here, forced to do this.

Why don't you take your shoes off and feel comfortable?

And I hate filthy talk!

You said that you'd treat me with respect.

Nothing filthy about shoes.

And I do have full use, Miss Smith.

Only in...

Only, you know, in... in...

Full use.

Any man suffering massive sexual frustration

would be out of his mind if, getting the girl of his dreams,

he didn't put her to full use.

Now, be reasonable.

If Tom knew you were saying these things to me...

- Tom is a nothing. - He is not!

Practise forgetting Tom, Miss Smith,

and try looking at me as if you were seeing him.

I love Tom, Mr Hoffman.

Love is merely a substitute for liking people.

It doesn't make me want you less.

Well, this isn't gonna work, anyway.

Where's my handbag?

(LOCKING DOOR)

I smell your hair in my bathroom.

I smell your...

female skin smell in my bathroom.

Can't buy that in a bottle.

Sex, Miss Smith, is wasted on the young.

I'm used to being in the bathroom by myself.

Given time, people catch love and sex

the way they catch the measles.

Not me, thank you.

Anyway, I don't know what you're talking about.

I think you do.

I think you do.

If a woman's biological urges

can make her wear her skirt up to her crotch,

- what can they not do? - I beg your pardon?

Idiot girls standing around at bus stops, freezing thighs,

bladder trouble spreading wildly.

Are you in good health, Miss Smith?

You don't seem to like women, do you?

Um, why don't you wash your face?

Do you mind leaving me alone, please?

Certainly.

(GASPING)

What you are doing to me is atrocious!

The filthiest thing I've ever heard of.

Yes, I am filthy, yes.

But there's no escaping one's fate, Miss Smith.

And I am your fate.

- (TAPS FULLY ON) - Oh, please God, let me get away.

Please. Please.

Mr Hoffman? The... The water's all overflowing!

I don't know what I did. Look.

The water's overflowing.

Um...

Well, there's some more towels in the kitchen.

Miss Smith, get some towels from the kitchen.

Miss Smith, where are you?

(DOOR COLLIDING WITH WALL)

Miss Smith?

Miss Smith!

Miss Smith!

Miss Smith.

Have you thought what will happen to you

if you go through that door?

(TRAFFIC PASSING OUTSIDE)

Yes.

Right. Well...

Let's start from the beginning again, shall we?

Please.

(LIFT WHIRRING)

Is... Is this the only...

Only bed in use? Yes.

What did you expect?

I don't know.

- How did you imagine it? - I don't know.

Miss Smith, you are here

to be two arms, two legs,

a face,

and what fits in the middle.

You understand?

I see.

No, you don't.

No, I don't!

And I'm used to unpacking by myself.

Yes.

These drawers are ready, waiting for you.

Did you phone Mitchell?

He saw me to the station.

Saw you to the station?

Well, he knows about my granny up in Scarborough.

- You told me you had no parents. - I haven't.

I have my grandmother up in Scarborough.

Well, Tom's never seen her,

but he knows she practically reared me,

and that she falls down.

Falls down?

I told him that she'd fallen down the stairs,

again,

and that I had to go up and look after her for a while.

Did he believe you?

Certainly!

I don't tell lies.

Only the truly innocent can lie with conviction, Miss Smith.

And, um...

the girls who share your flat?

Scarborough.

So, in fact, nobody knows you're here?

No.

Nobody.

What's the matter?

Nobody.

What are you doing?

Er...

testing.

Testing what?

Testing reality.

- Me? - Yes.

I've never, ever touched you before this moment.

All these things have been in my head.

Your legs, your mouth.

I want to eat you.

I want to consume you.

I want to lick your knees.

What do you think of a man who feels like that about you?

A man does feel that way about me.

Oh, no, he doesn't.

He couldn't.

Please, let me go home.

Please.

- I can't. - But you could if you wanted to.

No.

It's much too late for that now. Much too late.

I don't know what to say to you, Mr Hoffman.

I mean, you're nothing like you are at work.

Even your voice is different.

Um, yes. Yes, I have changed.

For the first time in my life, the prisoner within me has escaped.

If only you'd understand my position.

Understand you? Here, now?

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

All over the world, the simple pleasures of the flesh

are being ruined by women screaming to be understood.

I know what is it now.

You're trying to get your own back on me

for that time, about a year ago,

when you wrote me the note.

- Did I write you a note? - Yes.

Asking me to go out with you.

Said you'd been given tickets to a play or something.

Look, I know I shouldn't have ignored it, but...

You did rather more than ignore it, Miss Smith.

You told all the other girls about it.

- No, I didn't. - Yes, you did.

All those girls, giggling in the lift behind my back.

It's not that youth is cruel.

It's not that youth is mindless.

It's...

just simply that youth is wasted on the young.

They have no idea how to use it.

I couldn't go out with you because of Tom.

You didn't have Tom then.

- Didn't I? - No.

You were afraid to go out with me because of my maniac face.

- No. No. - Yes. Yes.

Girls all over the world are afraid of men

with my expression.

What expression?

Plain, sad-faced men.

You look at us, all of you, and you're right.

Every Miss Smith, everywhere.

Swarms of mature,

sexually starved men.

(ZIPPING UP CASE)

With their thoughts

full of breasts and bottoms and thighs,

in offices, buses and trains.

Men who've missed the boat,

but who still need love.

Well, Miss Smith,

their day is coming.

Their revolution is almost upon you.

Just you wait. Just you wait.

Hope never dies in a man

with a good, dirty mind.

Mmm. Miss Smith?

What?

Er...

Shall you comb your hair?

What?

And put on some lipstick.

- Now? - Yes.

And then we'll go out to a restaurant and eat something.

Go out? You mean, go somewhere and not stay here?

Yes, a restaurant. Food, wine, music, waiters.

Get your handbag.

Oh, but, Mr Hoffman, I can't go anywhere looking like this.

I look terrible.

Hurry, Miss Smith! Hurry!

Life is awaiting us. Eat, or be eaten.

Now, let's have a look at what we've got here.

Er...

Avocado with seafood dressing?

No?

- A little pasta, perhaps? - No, thank you.

No?

Er... Prosciutto con melone?

Maybe you'd prefer some boiled cat.

It's off, anyway, isn't it?

Yes, it's off.

Hmm. I know.

What a good idea. Snails.

Snails, yes. Six each.

And a bottle of Valpolicella.

- WAITER: E per dopo, signore? - HOFFMAN: Per dopo?

- The osso buco is very good here. - What's that?

Knuckle of veal on rice.

I can't eat veal. It...

It gives me a funny feeling.

Then perhaps you'd like to have something

that doesn't need to be slaughtered?

Yeah.

Lamb.

Allora, uno osso buco per me,

- e uno abbacchió. - Si, signore.

- Roasted. - Grazie.

- Grazie. - Grazie.

That's a charming schoolgirl frown you have there, Miss Smith.

Many a man would drag you into the woods just to experience it.

Am I supposed to say something?

Have you, by any chance, any snapshots of yourself

as a child playing on the sands at Scarborough?

No, I don't suppose you have.

No, I don't suppose I have.

It's a pity. There are two people in all of us.

The child in the snapshot,

and the monster the child grows into.

Ah, the snails. Good.

Where breaths may commingle,

two should always eat the same food.

Thank you. This implement is for holding the snail shell.

Voilà.

Have they got garlic?

Well, I sincerely hope they have, yes.

Tom's mother says that only French railway workers eat garlic.

You're very witty, Miss Smith.

Really?

Witty and informative.

You tell me volumes about Tom's mother in one simple sentence.

- Aren't you gonna eat them? - I don't like them.

How do you know you don't like them

if you haven't tried them?

Go on, try one, Miss Smith.

Free yourself. Be venturesome.

It's a new eating experience.

(CLATTERING)

I remember the day my father introduced me to snails.

"Hello, snails," I said. "How are you?"

"Trės bien, merci," they said.

"We who are about to be eaten salute you."

I said, "They're worms, Father."

He said, "No, they're not. They're snails."

And did I but open my mind to experience,

and also to snails.

- (HOFFMAN CHUCKLING) - (JANET GAGGING)

HOFFMAN: Did you know that stone age men

ate snails at fertility feasts?

(MUFFLED) impossible, disgusting man!

And that it's rather rude to talk with your mouth full?

Anything wrong, madame?

(SWALLOWING)

No, no.

It's fine, thank you.

HOFFMAN: I should like to propose a toast.

To your snails, Miss Smith.

To your knees, Miss Smith.

And to you, Miss Smith.

Cheers.

Cheers!

HOFFMAN: Snails, snails.

Osso Buco and his rhythm section.

Well, Miss Smith, what do you like before going to bed?

Cocoa? Acupuncture?

Hmm?

What's the matter? Are you not feeling well?

The waiter kept filling up my cup with black coffee.

Ah, well, you should go to bed.

I'm not tired.

- Oh, yes, you are tired. - No.

Oh, yes, I am. I am tired.

Yes, you are tired. Now, then, unfortunately,

I don't have a dressing room.

So, I'll get my toothbrush,

and you can have first call on the bathroom.

How would that suit you?

That be all right?

I...

shall use the servants' quarters.

- (GASPING) - You're tired, Miss Smith.

I'll take five or six aspirin,

and that'll make me feel numb all over.

I hope you're worth it. That's all I can say.

Put on lots of perfume, Miss Smith.

Everywhere.

I like it.

Have you everything you want, Miss Smith?

Have I what?

I say, have you everything you want?

I feel sick.

Heartburn.

It's all that black coffee.

Well, you should've told the waiter to stop filling your cup.

(ALMOST INAUDIBLY) "Should've told the waiter

"to stop filling my cup."

♪ Once I loved a pretty girl

♪ I loved her as my life

♪ And I'd gladly give my heart and hand

♪ To make her my wife ♪

(SINGING WORDLESSLY)

Ooh!

♪ Make her...

♪ My wife ♪

He's singing.

My God, he's getting drunk.

♪ I put my hands around her neck

♪ And relieved her of her life

♪ Oh-oh-oh

♪ I relieved

♪ Her of

♪ Her life ♪

He didn't have to take me out

and give me things to make me feel sick.

(EXHALING)

I'll be in bed, should you be searching for me, Miss Smith.

Are you setting up house in the bathroom, Miss Smith?

Miss Smith?

What is happening in your life, Miss Smith?

I have a headache.

You have another headache?

I have heartburn.

You have heartburn and another headache?

Why not malaria and prickly heat?

Well, have you any bread soda in the house?

No, but I do have a spare piece of rope.

Night thoughts, Saturday, October the third.

Every girl is a flower garden

with a compost heap at the bottom.

And many a noble man

has had to drown his dwarf wife in a zinc bath,

or strangle an idiot girl on a muddy common,

in order to draw attention to himself.

Reality betrays us all.

Reality betrays us all, Miss Smith.

(STOPS RECORDING)

Miss Smith?

- Take a letter. - What?

Take a letter, Miss Smith.

Now?

Yes, now.

To Miss Janet Smith, care of this address.

"Dear Miss Smith. Go to bed.

"Yours faithfully, Benjamin Hoffman."

Come, Miss Smith.

Embrace your fate.

Do you know the most natural thing in the world?

No.

To awaken one morning

and find a strange,

beautiful,

naked girl

asleep by your side.

My dream.

Every man's dream.

I beg to remind you, Mr Hoffman,

that you... you said you'd treat me with respect.

Yes, yes, of course.

Hand me the alarm clock, please.

- What's that for? - I've set it for six o'clock.

I'm one of those people that wake up

full of energy and passion for life

in the early morning.

- Six o'clock in the morning? - Yes.

Never partake of the best things in life, Miss Smith,

when one is tired.

Experience teaches that.

Is there anything you need?

A long-playing record?

Hat pin?

No, no.

- (RATTLING) - What's that?

Sleeping pills.

It will calm the nerves after this day of excitement.

And, when I awake,

I shall find your fair, serene face

asleep beside me

on that pillow.

(CLATTERING)

How will I ever look Tom in the face again?

With guilt,

apprehension,

remembering the unspeakable.

Me.

I feel terrible.

Miss Smith?

It's not only homosexuals who don't like women.

Hardly anybody likes them.

Now, please, Miss Smith, lie down, go to sleep,

to awaken and find

your fair form

beside me.

(HOFFMAN MUMBLING)

(GROANING)

He's sleeping.

Freshening himself up.

I can't ever remember being awake at four o'clock in the morning.

I should've told Tom.

Should. Should.

- He'd have known what to do. - (MURMURING)

(GROANING)

(SNORING)

At night is bad enough,

but at six o'clock in the morning, with the little birds singing...

No, I won't, ever!

(CLATTERING)

Barbara...

(HOFFMAN URINATING)

That's better.

(HOFFMAN SNORING)

(CLOCK TICKING)

(SIGHING)

Oh, naked, strange, pale girl,

found in my bed

one summer morning.

What? What?

What? What, indeed, Miss J Smith.

- (ALARM RINGING) - What?

- (ALARM STOPS) - What?

Tell me, Miss Smith, is it your habit to go to bed

wearing a costume, coat, hat and high-heeled shoes?

I was cold.

- This is something you do with Tom. - What is?

- Going to bed in a rubber mackintosh. - I do not!

You mean you don't go to bed with Tom?

No! Ye...

What's that got to do with it?

Are you trying to tell me

that you have no pills, no experience?

That you are, in fact, a complete novice?

Lots of girls like me are like that.

This is utterly, utterly, utterly ridiculous.

Stay there.

Don't move. Don't move.

Stay. There.

Women cheat by instinct.

Put the kettle on.

Put the kettle on!

Miss Smith?

Unplug the kettle by disconnecting the plug, please.

The cups and saucers are over there.

The tea is in that...

small coloured tin with the Chinese gentleman painted on the front.

And, er...

you'll find the cow

tethered in the refrigerator.

All these things blended together in their correct proportions

should result in a concoction known as "tea".

Incidentally, Miss Smith, now that we've given up escaping,

you won't need...

to eat our breakfast dressed for the street.

And we won't need your bag by the front door.

No.

Hmm.

Incidentally, have you brought stout walking shoes with you?

No.

Hmm.

Problem.

Anything else?

Yes.

Yes.

(BIRDSONG)

How fresh it is.

How clean the air.

Only eighty tonnes of soot per acre falling today.

- Come along, Miss Smith. - (HORN HONKING)

Come along.

Look. London.

And could you but hear yourself speak over the traffic's roar,

you might be in the heart of the country.

Come along, Miss Smith.

Come along.

- It's a windmill! - Yes, a wind machine,

on a wild heath in London.

That's Richmond Park over there,

or we could walk to the Thames down this way.

JANET: I don't want to go to Richmond Park.

(HOFFMAN QUACKING)

Mr Hoffman!

Am I walking too fast for you?

Come on, Miss Smith. Use your body.

It's good for you. Come on. Quack-quack-quack!

Mr Hoffman, I've skinned my heel!

(HOFFMAN CONTINUES QUACKING) Food, food, boys!

Hanging would be too good for you.

I should've told Tom and let him kill you!

Mr Hoffman!

Mr Hoffman!

Come along, Miss Smith. Come along.

JANET: Mr Hoffman!

Mr Hoffman!

JANET: Look how red it is. Look.

Hmm. Feet are bad enough, Miss Smith.

Skinned heels are going much too far.

Er... take your stocking off.

Stockings!

Here, clean it up.

I can't touch it.

You're not looking at it.

Give me the plaster, please.

Many a good man has been destroyed by pity, Miss Smith.

You're just like my granny.

She puts ointment on plaster.

It is not my ambition to become your granny.

I don't think that plaster's big enough.

It is quite big enough.

Now then, I suggest you try

an antiseptic cream and skinned heel sandwich.

They're very good.

Why don't you drink some coffee? It'll waken you up.

Coffee? It was all that black coffee

that kept me awake last night.

Mmm.

- What? - You'll have to lie down, Miss Smith.

- I what? - Come and have a little sleep.

Oh, no, I don't want to go to bed.

HOFFMAN: No, you don't want to go to bed.

You just want to have a little sleep.

All that fresh air has knocked you out.

JANET: Well, I don't want to go to bed.

HOFFMAN: I'll keep the army out, Miss Smith.

You have a little sleep.

Wake up, Miss Smith.

Wake up.

(DOOR CLOSING)

(EXPELS AIR IN DISGUST)

"Chicken 'cackieatory'.

"Medallions of 'boff'."

Ham. Yeah.

I'll have...

roasted ham,

with baked potatoes in their jackets.

And then, afterwards...

Oh, afterwards,

I think I'd better have some stewed prunes.

"Barbara Anne Hoffman."

Barbara Hoffman.

"To appear in High Court three weeks hence,

"Monday morning, ten o'clock."

"How did she become, in so short a time,

"such a...

"vain, demanding, treacherous woman?

"She was old enough.

"It should have shown from the beginning.

"What blinded us? Or am I several people?

"To think that many a man hanged for such a wife.

"Where was my judgement?"

- How much did you read? - What? Read?

Nothing. Nothing.

You never told me you were married.

Who escapes, Miss Smith?

You, of course, read the last entry first.

"A lifetime to be consumed in a week.

"Can I consume her utterly in a week?

"Miss Smith has a soft, young body,

"and a soft, young mind.

"If a man could eat a girl's soft, young body like an ice cream,

"he would not have to struggle to live

"with her soft, young mind."

Where did you get those slippers?

What's the matter?

Take them off, please.

- (KICKING OFF SLIPPERS) - Well, I have a sore heel.

Now you have murderer's feet.

You can't win in this game, Miss Smith.

- Game? - You don't know the rules.

Let's have some breakfast and ease the horror a bit.

I suggest...

toast, just golden,

dressed with cold-pressed virgin olive oil,

wheat germ and maple syrup,

Chinese Lapsang Souchong tea with lemon and honey.

Can you scramble eggs?

Yes.

Your accomplishments never cease to amaze me, Miss Smith.

Oh, mother.

Was it for long? Your... Your marriage, I mean.

No, fortunately.

Was it recently?

Yes, very recently.

Most men have their disasters early.

I, being careful, came to mine somewhat later.

She... She's not likely to come back now or anything, is she?

Highly unlikely.

(INAUDIBLE)

- Madam. - Good afternoon.

- Thank you very much, sir. - Thanks very much.

Let's go home, Miss Smith.

(SOLO PIANO IMPROVISATION PLAYING)

How very pretty you look, Miss Smith, in the fading light.

I could do with a little help in the kitchen.

My mother always told me to keep out of the kitchen,

that I might get boiled in mistake for a potato.

These forks smell.

Why don't you wash them?

That woman you have, you know, she doesn't clean them properly.

(RIPPLING ARPEGGIOS)

HOFFMAN: ♪ Once I knew a pretty girl

♪ Oh, I loved her as my life... ♪

(STOPS PLAYING)

Why have you stopped?

An amateur performance, Miss Smith.

An amateur performance.

I've heard that before.

I heard it somehow, but I can't remember what the words are.

The words?

"Once I knew a pretty girl.

"I loved her as my wife.

"But I put my hands about her neck,

"and relieved her of her life."

Why don't you want me to like you?

Why don't you stop stabbing me in the face with your doomed youth?

I didn't invent life or death, Miss Smith.

And why don't you ever call me Janet?

And have you become a human being?

I haven't got time for all that mess.

Do you mind if I start? I'm hungry.

Mmm. Hungry, yes.

Women are always hungry for something.

Fallopian tubes with teeth.

Have some wine, Miss Smith.

Are you satisfied with your day of domesticity, Mr Hoffman?

Yes, yes.

I saw your strong, handsome legs,

standing at my sink,

and I was satisfied.

Yes, yes.

My head's in a fog.

Then drive carefully, Miss Smith.

Have you anything in the house for...

for this?

For what?

For not going, you know...

Well, it happens to me when I'm in strange places.

I looked in the bathroom cabinet,

and there was only one senna pod there.

Oh.

Miss Smith, you are here

so that you may give me

a tremendous sensual and erotic experience.

Well, how do you think I feel having to say this?

And how do you think I feel having to give you colonic irrigation?

(DOOR OPENING)

- Open your mouth, please. - Liquid paraffin?

Oh, no, I don't think I could. It's too oily.

It is not oily, Miss Smith. Open your mouth, please.

Open your mouth!

Girls with vain faces and pert airs and graces

would have you suppose that under their clothes

there was more than a tube and some lumps.

- Ow! - Very well.

And there's more where that came from.

Liquid paraffin. Everybody's wedding night.

Reassure yourself.

Tell yourself you're calm and sleepy.

Repeat twenty times,

"Lips that touch kippers shall never touch mine."

You must never become a person, Miss Smith.

That would be...

unendurable.

(HOFFMAN SNORING)

- Oh! Good God! - What...

A cramp in the arch of the foot! It travels up the leg,

grips the leg muscle like iron.

The only thing to do is to stamp it hard into the ground.

The Japanese have a name for it. I can't think what it is.

The pain is... Oh, God!

What are you doing, Miss Smith?

How do I know what I'm doing, or where I am,

or what's going on, or anything? Anything!

Get back into bed, Miss Smith. Get back into bed.

I just want to say this to you, Mr Hoffman.

I just want to say this.

I don't know where you came from,

but my father was a master carpenter in Dublin.

I was an only child, and I was brought up very, very well.

It is the middle of the night, Miss Smith.

You forced me to come and live with you for a week.

All those threats.

We'd go to prison, Tom would do hard labour.

Frightening me.

And then, after all that, what?

After all that, nothing.

Days and days, keeping me in suspense and misery!

Every cripple must creep his own way, Miss Smith.

I've done my very best.

When a woman starts complaining,

it means that she is feeling thoroughly at home.

Well, I didn't come here to feel thoroughly at home.

My God, if I told anybody in their right minds

that you brought me here to take sleeping pills every night and snore...

- Now, just... Just one moment! - I beg your pardon?

- I do not snore. - Oh, yes, Mr Hoffman, you do snore.

- Immediately I go to sleep? - Immediately.

- Softly? - Loudly.

- Loudly? - Very loudly.

Has nobody ever told you before, Mr Hoffman?

Stop! I recognise this conversation. Good night, Miss Smith. Good night!

It just shows how you can be mistaken about people.

Everybody in the office thinks, "Oh, yes.

"Quiet and firm. A gentleman."

God, I wish I was dead!

It is the middle of the night, Miss Smith!

- I don't care! - Oh, God!

I've been telling you for days!

It's all this uncertainty.

I don't even know what you really know about Tom.

- You don't? - No.

Right, we'll settle that, once and for all.

Now, take a memo, Miss Smith.

The firm we work for transports 30,000 pounds of the cigarettes

at a time on each truck.

Your Tom sold information to thieves,

where a truck would be, at what time and at what route,

and received, or receives, from the thieves, a commission.

And when he went to the café to meet the men, I saw it.

They gave him money.

A truck stops, the driver goes into a lavatory,

when he comes out, the truck's gone,

and Tom gets a few hundred pounds

towards your house, your wedding.

He said he'd never do it again. I'll see he never does, never!

What does it matter what he did?

All that matters is...

that you're here now.

But you promised...

- Yes, I promised... - That... That you'd say nothing.

- That I'd say nothing. - ...if I came here.

And I did. I came here,

and I've been here three whole days.

Please, Miss Smith,

take the rest of the night off and go to sleep.

What good is it to you, me just hating you?

Just hating you?

Sleep, sleep, sleep, Miss Smith.

Hate you. Hate you.

Hate you.

(GROANING)

(WATER RUNNING)

JANET: Mr Hoffman?

Mr Hoffman?

Mr Hoffman, I can't move my head.

Miss Smith, you are highly susceptible to physical ailments,

but this is, by far, the most attractive you have yet presented me with.

Come into my surgery, please, and sit down.

There. Now...

What's that?

Er... Rheumatism liniment or leather dye?

- Oh, I don't want leather dye. - Bare your neck, please.

Now, where does it hurt?

- In there. All there. - All there?

- Mmm. - Right.

Ow! That burns.

It may burn, Miss Smith,

but it's doing you good.

(FAINT BLOWING)

Is that better?

Mm-hmm. A little.

Your neck that beckoned to me

through office walls,

and arranged your fate.

Your neck...

So young, so pretty, so defenceless.

What did you say?

In the office, the back of your neck was...

forever calling to me for help.

Rubbish.

"Help me. Help me," your neck said.

"Lead me to my fate."

(QUIET KISS)

You kissed me.

Shall I take a memo, Mr Hoffman, that you kissed me?

You're mistaken, Miss Smith.

My fingers merely brushed your neck.

But you blush, Miss Smith.

Could it be that you've been touched by my maleness?

No, Mr Hoffman.

Could it be that you've been touched

by the soul behind this bloodhound face?

No, Mr Hoffman.

Then what?

- By your liquid paraffin. - Oh.

Reality betrays us all.

(DOOR CLOSING)

Reality betrays us all, Miss Smith.

(CHATTERING)

No, no, definitely not. Go on, have a guess.

- All right. If we're not going... - Three guesses.

- If we're not going to Wimbledon. - Three guesses.

- And we're not going to... - And here we are.

"Here we are," what?

Here we are, Miss Smith.

- Who lives here? - I will.

I will live here,

in my new flat.

Come and have a look inside.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Of course, there's still a lot to be done,

but it's coming along slowly but surely, don't you think?

- Eh? - Mmm.

This unit's going over there.

Of course, this'll have to be enlarged, otherwise

Santa Claus will never get up it, or down it.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

This is nice, isn't it?

Teak oil.

What's wrong with the old place?

Oh, well, you know.

Treacheries, miseries.

Failure, despair.

It's haunted.

What colours are you going to have?

I'm going to have white for purity,

yellow for experience, and black to make me cheerful.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

It's nice making an old house into a new house.

MAN: Afternoon, Captain.

- (WHISPERING) Who's that? - That's Fred down there.

- JANET: Hello, Fred down there. - Hello, miss.

- HOFFMAN: Did the new boiler arrive? - Yes, sir.

We've stuck it in the corner, shortened the pipes.

Ah.

Ah.

- It should really go over there. - Oh?

Just a minute. I'll come down and show you.

All right, sir.

JANET: This must be the kitchen.

I would have a table here,

with a different sort of tablecloth.

And...

stove's going there.

Oh, well, that's all right. I'd have...

I'd have a clock over there,

cupboards running underneath,

lots of jars.

And I'd have check curtains.

Well, Mrs Mitchell, have you decided to take it?

Or perhaps one of the upper-floor flats?

Modest ground rents, long leases. Very good investment.

- You've bought the whole house? - Oh, yes, yes.

- Will the upstairs flats be very expensive? - Excessive, yes.

Enough to allow one a sort of private life, freedom.

It's a very nice house, Mr Hoffman.

Yes.

Would you like to see the rest of the house?

- Yes. - Good. Right.

(PIANO PLAYING "ONCE I LOVED A PRETTY GIRL")

Is that the only song you know?

- (PATTING SEAT) - Come here.

I'll teach you something from my extensive repertoire.

This is known as "Chopsticks". Right?

And you start by playing these two notes...

(PLAYING FIRST BAR OF "CHOPSTICKS")

...together, and then you go to these two notes...

(PLAYING SECOND BAR)

...which are a little bit further apart. And then, these two notes.

(PLAYING THIRD BAR)

- Then these two notes. - (PLAYING FOURTH BAR)

Quite a long way apart, see?

(REPEATS ALL FOUR BARS)

Don't worry about the bits in the middle. I'll do that.

- Okay. - Think you can do that?

I don't know. I'll try.

Really, we start there, there, there, and there.

- Right. - And I'll play down here.

- You play up there. - Okay.

That'll be a duet for instant cacophony.

- Are you ready? - I'm ready.

One, two, three.

(PLAYING DUET VERSION)

Good.

You've got it. Yes.

Now, one more time.

(SPEEDING UP)

You're going too fast.

You're going too fast. Wait for me!

I am waiting for you.

Tom plays the guitar.

I should've phoned Tom,

to tell him how I was and everything,

and how Granny was.

But I couldn't. I mean, he'd have...

He'd have known it was from London, wouldn't he?

Well, you can phone him anyway.

Tell him the call's coming from Scarborough.

I'll be the long-distance operator.

- You would? - Yes, yes, yes, yes.

- You know the number? - Oh, yes.

Dial it.

Go on. Go on.

It's ringing.

It is ringing.

Hello? Er... This is the long-distance operator.

We have a call for a Mr Tom Mitchell, please.

(WHISPERING) It's his mother.

(STIFLED GIGGLE)

Hold the line, please.

Hello, Mrs Mitchell? Yes, it's me, Janet.

Oh... Oh, Granny? Oh, she's... she's fine. Er...

Well, she'll be better in a day or two.

Yeah. Um...

Could I speak to Tom?

Oh. At the tennis club.

I see.

Um... Um... No.

Just... Just tell him, um, that I rang,

and that everything's fine, and that I'll be home soon, and...

Oh, no, he can't.

No... No, he mustn't. I won't be here.

Look, um... No.

Mrs Mitchell, my granny, she's better now, yeah.

And I'll be home to London tomorrow.

Yeah, on the first train.

Well, if not the first train, an early train, anyway.

But Tom is not to come up. Is that clear? Yeah.

Um... I have to go now. Yeah, goodbye.

- Tomorrow? - It was all I could think of

to stop him from going up and knocking on my granny's door.

Wh... What could I do? I had to say something.

But tomorrow, Miss Smith.

I've only had four days.

What difference does it make to you?

Well, it makes all the difference in the world.

The last days...

were to be the most important.

Well, I will be here...

until tomorrow.

I'm sorry.

Sorry it wasn't like what you thought, or anything.

No.

Nothing like I thought.

Nothing like I have to do now.

I must go out

for about twenty minutes.

There's something I have to do.

Er... About twenty minutes.

(PLAYING "CHOPSTICKS")

(DOOR CREAKING)

(CLATTERING)

"Barbara Anne Hoffman."

"Dear Ben.

"You and your ideas of cosy family life make me sick.

"I'm going to be famous,

"and have lots of beautiful men

"make love to me,

"and be free..."

- (FRONT DOOR RATTLING) - HOFFMAN: Miss Smith?

Miss Smith?

Miss Smith?

Miss Smith, are you there? Can you hear me?

- (KNOCKING) - Coming. I'm just in the bathroom.

(KNOCKING)

I was afraid being on my own, so I...

put the chain on.

Oh.

Are you in bed?

Yes.

Not tonight, Miss Smith.

Not tonight.

I'm not going to have anything to hold over me when I'm married,

if that's what you think.

Naked,

pale,

fair girl,

found in my bed

one summer morning.

I hate you.

I hate you!

I want to say something to you, Mr Hoffman.

You insulted me.

Insulted me!

That was never my intention, Miss Smith.

What's wrong with you is that you're afraid even to kiss someone.

Just because you married that awful woman and her gin bottles.

You couldn't even look me straight in the face.

You think everyone's like that, don't you?

Looking at the back of my neck in the office.

You've made a fool of me, Mr Hoffman!

But I have...

treated you always with the utmost respect.

Exactly!

Did you find me all that repulsive?

You know, when I came here, I came prepared for the very worst.

But you're just a rotten hoaxer, Mr Hoffman.

You never even kissed me!

I hate you.

You never even kissed me.

You'll remember me, Miss Smith.

You'll remember me...

in weeks of grinding domestic boredom,

when you're married to

Tom's mother.

You see, I wanted to show you things.

I wanted to baby you.

You need an older man.

Will Tom brush your hair?

Will Tom...

ru... rub the back of your neck?

You could live like a little mouse in my pocket.

We'd dance and sing,

and drive in the sun with the hood down.

I wanted a chance to show you that

a man's face doesn't matter all that much.

I've loved you, Miss Smith,

like a doting idiot,

for eighteen months

and two weeks.

I wanted to woo you.

You what?

I... I wanted to woo you.

Get out! Go on, get out!

(CLOCK CHIMING)

Getting late.

What? What are you doing?

Look, you can't go yet. Um...

Th... This is our last morning.

You must have breakfast in bed. I insist.

- You insist? - Please, please.

Yes.

Please.

There, there.

I'll peel your egg for you.

There. That's that.

- Put the radio on there. - (MUSIC PLAYING QUIETLY)

I'm used to having my breakfast by myself.

Yes, yes, yes. Yes, of course.

Naturally. I'll, um...

Well, I'll... I'll just get a newspaper,

and, um, you can read that by yourself.

Er... yes.

There's The Times.

Don't read the obituaries. They're always depressing.

- Radio. - (TURNING UP VOLUME)

I'll just take this out of your way.

Well, bon appėtit.

The Times.

(TOASTER LOUDLY POPPING)

(DOORBELL RINGING)

(DOORBELL RINGING)

(RADIO FAINTLY AUDIBLE)

Yes?

Do you live here, sir?

Yes.

I'm Tom. Tom Mitchell.

Oh, yes, yes.

Mitchell from the office.

I suppose you must have some message.

Oh, no, no, no, Mr Hoffman. I'm... I'm looking for someone.

It's so bloody silly. Someone must be having me on.

Who?

What?

Who... Who are you looking for?

My fiancée, Janet Smith. She works in the typing pool.

Come in.

- Oh, thank you, sir. - Um...

Er... We're a little late.

- Er... She's only just having breakfast. - Hmm?

I do hope it's not bad news or anything.

She was so... So happy this morning.

Um... But anyway, as it's obviously so urgent,

you'd, er... you'd better see her.

Um, she's, um...

She's...

in there.

SONG ON RADIO: ♪ I'm a lovin' man

♪ Doin' the best I can

♪ But it's plain to see

♪ That you don't love me ♪

Oh, bother.

Why aren't you in Scarborough with your grandmother?

- I'm sick. I couldn't go. - I put you on the train.

Well, um... I had to come back.

I thought this was written by a raving loony.

I was gonna throw it away.

BOTH: What are you doing here?

This was at the office this morning. It was on my desk.

"Once you had a pretty girl.

"You and she were to be wed.

"Now she's at 24 Malet Court

"in another man's bed.

"Signed, Wellwisher.

"PS. Take a friend's advice.

"Catch a boat tonight.

"Canada is the land of opportunity."

God, Tom, I never, never... Look, he said that if I came here...

No, no, no. I'll tell you from the beginning.

- TOM: You and him? - No! Not me and him!

TOM: I thought you were in Scarborough with your grandmother.

What is she doing here?

Well, Mitchell, look.

Nowadays, people demand greater freedom, more from life.

- TOM: Hmm? - We are each called upon

for tolerance, understanding.

But what is she doing here?!

Well, we shall have to tell him,

darling.

No, Mr Hoffman. I'll tell him.

Look, Tom, I'll be ready in a moment. You just wait for me downstairs.

You've no time for niceties, Mitchell.

You're about to be found out.

- Janet and I... Well... - JANET: What?

We're very, very old friends.

Tom, he's a lunatic! Don't listen to him, please!

I know you've been selling information to people

who steal the firm's goods in transit.

I know.

Why did you tell him?

I've already paid the deposit on our house! Why?

- But I didn't! - Resign, disappear.

Canada, Australia.

South African police needs you.

Disappear, Mitchell.

Disappear.

I might even...

pay your fare.

No, no, you're not gonna listen. You're not. Go on, please, Tom.

- Wait for me downstairs. - Janet, I can't go...

- Tom, please! - Look, please, Janet, let me stay here.

JANET: Just wait for me, please.

- (FRONT DOOR CLOSING) - TOM: Janet!

"Wellwisher"!

- You! - Now you know he only cares about himself.

It was a crime to stop hanging with people like you in the world.

- Where are you going? - Where do you think I'm going?

To get on with my own life.

He won't want you now.

- Why don't you shut up?! - Thinks you've been living with me.

- He'll never understand. - He will. He will.

I... I'll take him away somewhere. I'll make him understand.

And I love you.

I adore you.

I worship every inch of your idiot body.

Your hair, your teeth,

your being a girl.

Stay with me, Janet.

Why? Why did you bring Tom here?

Well, you see, it was all or nothing.

It turned into that.

You...

or nothing.

- You and me? - Yes.

You and me.

Look at you.

Who wants you?

You're mad.

And... and... and you're ugly.

Janet! Miss Smith!

Please, Miss Smith. Listen to me.

I... I wanted to take advantage of you,

but I found I couldn't.

I love you too much for that.

I wanted you to love me. Just a little.

Oh, Mr Hoffman.

Goodbye.

MATT MONRO ON RADIO: ♪ If I'm wrong, it's nice pretending

♪ It may soon be my next time ♪

(MAIN DOOR CLOSING)

♪ I can offer you

♪ The autumn of my life

♪ Will you share it? ♪

You and that horrible old man,

getting mixed up with people like that.

Oh, dear God.

What are we going to do?

It's so bloody unfair.

Lots of people do it. They get away with it. Why me?

Yes, and lots of people go to prison too, Tom.

Where are we to go?

He was getting on so well.

He was only saying the other day how much the people at work liked him.

We can't go away.

We can't go to a cold climate.

I can't leave my home.

We'll find a way out, Mum.

You could go to the police.

- Police? - No, thank you.

Look, what's the worst that can happen, Tom?

A year in prison.

A year?

You wouldn't talk like that if you had to go through it.

I did say I'd take half the blame.

All you'd get would be your picture in the papers.

Janet, couldn't you talk to that man again?

I mean, you spent a week with him.

- Four days. - Can't you...

Can't you find out?

Make sure he'll say nothing.

If only. Oh, if only.

Yes, I could speak to him again.

Tom?

Tom, would you like me to go back and speak to him again?

Yes, yes, Anything you can do.

You mean, you wouldn't mind if I went back to him, to talk to him?

You've been living with him! What difference does it make?!

Oh.

I see.

I see.

Well, I'm going home now.

To think about it.

Don't come with me, Tom.

Stay with your mother. She needs you.

(FRONT DOOR OPENING)

(DOORBELL RINGING)

Go away.

(DOORBELL RINGING)

Something I want to ask you.

What do you want to ask me?

Can I give up going to work?

Yes.

And...

Can I have piano lessons?

- Yes. - From a real teacher?

Yes.

And can I choose the things for the new kitchen?

- Yes. - And...

- And can I... - Yes, anything.

And...

Can you kiss me now, please?

Now?

Well, it's all right.

Just wanted to make sure it would be all right when you did kiss me.

Oh. (CHUCKLING)

Can I go to bed now, please?

Because I'm tired.

MATT MONRO: ♪ I can offer you

♪ The autumn of my life

♪ Will you share it? ♪

Miss Smith?

Take a memo.

What, Mr Hoffman?

"Welcome home.

"Yours sincerely..."

MATT MONRO: ♪ If I'm wrong

♪ It's nice pretending

♪ It may soon be my next time ♪