The Complete Talking Heads (8 page)

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Authors: Alan Bennett

BOOK: The Complete Talking Heads
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Pause.
He said, ‘You’d better get your hat and coat on.’
GO TO BLACK.
Come up on. Miss Ruddock back at home. Day.
I’ve got two social workers come, one white, one black. Maureen I’m
supposed to call the white one, shocking finger nails, ginger hair, and last week a hole in her tights as big as a 50p piece. She looks more in need of social work than I do. Puts it all down to men. ‘We all know about men, don’t we, Irene.’ I never said she could call me Irene. I don’t want to be called Irene. I want to be called Miss Ruddock. I’m not Irene. I haven’t been Irene since Mother died. But they all call me Irene, her, the police, everybody. They think they’re being nice, only it’s just a nice way of being nasty. The other one’s Asian, Mrs Rabindi, little red spot on her forehead, all that. Sits, talks. She’s right enough. Said I’d be useful in India. You can earn a living writing letters there apparently as they’re all illiterate. Something daubed on her door last week. She says it’s what you get to expect if you’re Asian. I said, ‘Well, there’s all sorts gets chucked over my wall.’ We sit and talk, only she’s a bit of a boring woman. I tell her I loved my mother and she says how she loved her mother. I tell her I’m frightened to walk the streets and she tells me how she’s been attacked herself. Well, it doesn’t get you any further. It’s all ‘me too’. Social work, I think it’s just chiming in.
I’m on what’s called a suspended sentence. It means you have to toe the line. If I write any more letters I get sent to prison. The magistrate said I was more to be pitied than anything else. I said, ‘Excuse me, could I interject?’ He said, ‘No. Your best plan would be to keep mum.’ Big fellow, navy blue suit, poppy in his buttonhole. Looked a bit of a drinker.
Maureen says I should listen to local radio. Join these phone-in things. Chat to the disc jockey and choose a record. She says they’re very effective in alleviating loneliness and a sense of being isolated in the community. I said, ‘Yes and they’re even more effective in bumping up the phone bill.’ Maureen’s trying to get me on reading. I suppose to get me off writing. She says books would widen my horizon. Fetches me novels, but they don’t ring true. I mean, when somebody in a novel says something like ‘I’ve never been in an air crash’, you know this means that five minutes later they will be. Say trains never crash and one does. In stories saying it brings it on. So if you get the heroine saying, ‘I don’t suppose I shall ever be happy’, then you can bank on it there’s happiness just around the corner. That’s the rule in novels. Whereas in life you can say you’re never going to be happy and you never are happy, and saying it doesn’t make a ha’porth of difference. That’s the real rule. Sometimes I catch myself thinking it’ll be better the second time round.
(Pause.)
But this is it. This has been my go.
Pause.
New policeman now. Walks the streets, the way they used to. Part of the new policy. Community policing. Smiles. Passes the time of day. Keeping an eye on things.
Certainly keeps an eye on No. 56. In there an hour at a stretch. Timed it the other day and when eventually he comes out she’s at the door in just a little shorty housecoat thing.
He’s in there now.
Pause.
He wants reporting.
GO TO BLACK.
Come up on Miss Ruddock against a plain institutional background.
She is in a tracksuit, speaks very quickly and is radiant.
I ought to be writing up my diary. Mrs Proctor’s got us all on keeping diaries as part of Literary Appreciation. The other girls can’t think what to put in theirs, me I can’t think what to leave out. Trouble is I never have time to write it up, I’m three days behind as it is.
I’m that busy. In a morning it’s Occupation and I’ve opted for bookbinding and dressmaking. In dressmaking Mrs Dunlop’s chucked me in at the deep end and I’m running up a little cocktail dress. I said, ‘I never have cocktails.’ She said, ‘Well, now you’ve got the dress, you can.’ That’s what it’s geared to, this place, new horizons. It’s in shantung with a little shawl collar. Lucille’s making me a chunky necklace for it in Handicrafts.
I share a room with Bridget, who’s from Glasgow. She’s been a prostitute on and off and did away with her kiddy, accidentally, when she was drunk and upset. Bonny little face, you’d never think it. Her mother was blind, but made beautiful pastry and brought up a family of nine in three rooms. You don’t know you’re born I think. I’m friends with practically everyone though besides Bridget. I’m up and down this corridor; more often than not I’m still on my rounds when the bell goes.
They laugh at me, I know, but it’s all in good part. Lucille says, ‘You’re funny you, Irene.You don’t mind being in prison.’ I said, ‘Prison!’ I said, ‘Lucille. This is the first taste of freedom I’ve had in years.’
Of course I’m lucky. The others miss the sex. Men, men, men. They talk about nothing else.
Mind you, that’s not quite the closed book it used to be. Bridget’s
taken me through the procedure step by step and whereas previous to this if I’d ever found myself in bed with a man I should have been like a fish out of water, now, as Bridget says, at least I know the rudiments. Of course I can’t ever see it coming to that at my age, but still it’s nice to have another string to your bow. They’ve got me smoking now and again as well. I mean, I shan’t ever be a full-time smoker, I’m not that type, and I don’t want to be, but it means that if I’m ever in a social situation when I’m called on to smoke, like when they’re toasting the Queen, I shan’t be put off my stroke. But you see, that’s the whole philosophy of this place: acquiring skills.
I sailed through the secretarial course, Miss Macaulay says I’m their first Grade I. I can type like the wind. Miss Macaulay says we mustn’t let the grass grow under our feet and if she goes down on her knees in Admin they might (repeat might) let me have a go on their word processor. Then the plan is: Stage One, I go on day release for a bit, followed by Stage Two a spell in a resettlement hostel where I’ll be reintegrated into the community. Then finally Stage Three a little job in an office somewhere. I said to Miss Macaulay, ‘Will it matter my having been in prison?’ She said, ‘Irene, with your qualifications it wouldn’t matter if you’d been in the SS.’
But the stuff some of them come out with! You have to smile. They have words for things I didn’t know there were words for, and in fact I swear myself on occasion now, though only when the need arises. The other evening I’m sat with Shirley during Association. Shirley’s very obese, I think it’s glandular, and we’re trying to put together a letter to her boy friend. Well, she says it’s her boy friend only I had to start the letter three times because first go off she says his name’s Kenneth, then she says it’s Mark, and finally she settles on Stephen. She stammers does Shirley and I think she just wanted a name she could say. I don’t believe she has a boy friend at all, just wants to be in the swim. She shouldn’t actually be in here in fact, she’s not all there but there’s nowhere else to put her apparently, she sets fire to places. Anyway, we’re sitting in her room concocting this letter to her pretend boy friend when Black Geraldine waltzes in and drapes herself across the bed and starts chipping in, saying was this boy friend blond, did he have curly hair, and then nasty personal-type questions she should know better than to ask Shirley. And Shirley’s getting confused and stammering and Geraldine’s laughing, so finally I threw caution to the winds and told Geraldine to fuck up.
She screams with laughing and goes running down the corridor saying, ‘Do you know what Irene said, do you know what Irene said?’
When she’d gone Shirley said, ‘You shouldn’t have said that.’ I said, ‘I know, but sometimes it’s necessary.’ She said, ‘No, Irene. I don’t mean you shouldn’t have said it. Only you got it wrong. It’s not fuck up.’ I said, ‘What is it?’ She said, ‘It’s fuck off.’ She’s good-hearted.
Pause.
Sometimes Bridget will wake up in the middle of the night shouting, dreaming about the kiddy she killed, and I go over and sit by the bed and hold her hand till she’s gone off again. There’s my little clock ticking and I can hear the wind in the poplar trees by the playing field and maybe it’s raining and I’m sitting there. And I’m so
happy
.
FADE OUT.
Lesley:
Julie Walters
PRODUCED BY
INNES LLOYD
DESIGNED BY
TONY BURROUGH
DIRECTED BY
GILES FOSTER
MUSIC BY
GEORGE FENTON
LESLEY IS IN HER EARLY THIRTIES. SHE IS IN HER FLAT. MORNING.
I
shot a man last week. In the back. I miss it now, it was really interesting. Still, I’m not going to get depressed about it.You have to look to the future. To have something like that under your belt can be quite useful, you never know when you might be called on to repeat the experience.
It wasn’t in the line of duty. I wasn’t a policewoman or someone who takes violence in their stride. It was with a harpoon gun actually, but it definitely wasn’t an accident. My decision to kill was arrived at only after a visible tussle with my conscience. I had to make it plain that once I’d pulled the trigger things were never going to be the same again: this was a woman at the crossroads.
It wasn’t
Crossroads,
of course. They don’t shoot people in
Crossroads,
at any rate not with harpoon guns. If anybody did get shot it would be with a weapon more suited to the motel ambience. I have been in
Crossroads
though, actually. I was in an episode involving a fork lunch. At least I was told it was a fork lunch, the script said it was a finger buffet. I said to the floor manager, I said, ‘Rex. Are you on cans because I’d like some direction on this point. Are we toying or are we tucking in?’ He said, ‘Forget it. We’re losing the food anyway.’ I was playing Woman in a Musquash Coat, a guest at a wedding reception, and I was scheduled just to be in that one episode. However in my performance I tried to suggest I’d taken a fancy to the hotel in the hope I might catch the director’s eye and he’d have me stay on after the fork lunch for the following episode which involved a full-blown weekend. So I acted an interest in the soft furnishings, running my fingers over the Formica and admiring the carpet on the walls. Only Rex came over to say that they’d put me in a musquash coat to suggest I was a sophisticated woman, could I try and look as if I was more at home in a three star motel. I wasn’t at home in that sort of motel I can tell you. I said to the man I’d been put next to, who I took to be my husband, I said, ‘Curtains in orange nylon and no place mats, there’s not even the veneer of civilisation.’ He said, ‘Don’t talk to me about orange nylon. I was on a jury once that sentenced Richard Attenborough to death.’ We’d been told to indulge in simulated cocktail chit-chat so we weren’t being unprofessional, talking. That is something I pride myself on, actually: I am professional to my fingertips.
Whatever it is I’m doing, even if it’s just a walk-on, I must must must get involved, right up to the hilt. I can’t help it. People who know me tell me I’m a very serious person, only it’s funny, I never get to do
serious parts. The parts I get offered tend to be fun-loving girls who take life as it comes and aren’t afraid of a good time should the opportunity arise-type-thing. I’d call them vivacious if that didn’t carry overtones of the outdoor life. In a nutshell I play the kind of girl who’s very much at home on a bar stool and who seldom has to light her own cigarette. That couldn’t be more different from me because for a start I’m not a smoker. I mean, I can smoke if a part requires it. I’m a professional and you need as many strings to your bow as you can in this game. But, having said that, I’m not a natural smoker and what’s more I surprise my friends by not being much of a party-goer either. (Rather curl up with a book quite frankly.)
However,
this particular party I’d made an exception. Thing was I’d met this ex-graphic designer who was quitting the rat race and going off to Zimbabwe and he was having a little farewell do in the flat of an air hostess friend of his in Mitcham, would I go? I thought, well it’s not every day you get somebody going off to Zimbabwe, so I said ‘Yes’ and I’m glad I did because that’s how I got the audition.
Now my hobby is people. I collect people. So when I saw this interesting-looking man in the corner, next thing is I find myself talking to him. I said, ‘You look an interesting person. I’m interested in interesting people. Hello.’ He said, ‘Hello.’ I said, ‘What do you do?’ He said, ‘I’m in films.’ I said, ‘Oh, that’s interesting, anything in the pipeline?’ He said, ‘As a matter of fact, yes,’ and starts telling me about this project he’s involved in making videos for the overseas market, targeted chiefly on West Germany. I said, ‘Are you the producer?’ He said, ‘No, but I’m on the production side, the name’s Spud.’ I said, ‘Spud! That’s an interesting name, mine’s Lesley.’ He said, ‘As it happens, Lesley, we’ve got a problem at the moment. Our main girl has had to drop out because her back’s packed in. Are you an actress?’ I said, ‘Well, Spud, interesting that you should ask because as a matter of fact I am.’ He said, ‘Will you excuse me one moment, Lesley?’ I said, ‘Why Spud, where are you going?’ He said, ‘I’m going to go away, Lesley, and make one phone call.’
It transpires the director is seeing possible replacements the very next day, at an address in West London. Spud said, ‘It’s interesting because I’m based in Ealing.’ I said, ‘Isn’t that West London?’ He said, ‘It is. Where’s your stamping ground?’ I said, ‘Bromley, for my sins.’ He said, ‘That’s a farish cry. Why not bed down at my place?’ I said, ‘Thank you, kind sir, but I didn’t fall off the Christmas tree yesterday.’ He said, ‘Lesley, I have a son studying hotel management and a daughter with one kidney. Besides, I’ve got my sister-in-law staying. She’s come up for the Ideal Home Exhibition.’
The penny began to drop when I saw the tattoo. My experience of tattoos is that they’re generally confined to the lower echelons, and when I saw his vest it had electrician written all over it. I never even saw the sister-in-law. Still traipsing round Olympia probably.
GO TO BLACK.
Come up on Lesley in the same setting. Afternoon.
I know something about personality. There’s a chapter about it in this book I’m reading. It’s by an American. They’re the experts where personality is concerned, the Americans; they’ve got it down to a fine art. It makes a big thing of interviews so I was able to test it out.
The director’s not very old, blue suit, tie loose, sleeves turned back. I put him down as a university type. Said his name was Simon, which I instantly committed to memory. (That’s one of the points in the book: purpose and use of name.) He said, ‘Forgive this crazy time.’ I said, ‘I’m sorry, Simon?’ He said, ‘Like 9.30 in the morning.’ I said, ‘Simon. The day begins when the day begins. You’re the director.’ He said, ‘Yes, well. Can you tell me what you’ve done?’
I said, ‘Where you may have seen me, Simon, is in
Tess.
Roman Polanski. I played Chloë:’ ‘I don’t remember her,’ he said. ‘Is she in the book?’ I said, ‘Book? This is
Tess,
Simon. Roman Polanski. Chloë was the one on the back of the farm cart wearing a shawl. The shawl was original nineteenth-century embroidery. All hand done. Do you know Roman, Simon?’ He said, ‘Not personally, no.’ I said, ‘Physically he’s quite small but we had a very good working relationship. Very open.’ He said that was good, because Travis in the film was very open. I said, ‘Travis? That’s an interesting name, Simon.’ He said, ‘Yes. She’s an interesting character, she spends most of the film on the deck of a yacht.’ I said, ‘Yacht? That’s interesting, Simon. My brother-in-law has a small power boat berthed at Ipswich.’ He said, ‘Well! Snap!’ I said, ‘Yes, small world!’ He said, ‘In an ideal world, Lesley, I’d be happy to sit here chatting all day but I have a pretty tight schedule and, although I know it’s only 9.30 in the morning, could I see you in your bra and panties?’ I said, ‘9.30 in the morning, 10.30 at night, we’re both professionals, Simon, but,’ I said, ‘could we just put another bar on because if we don’t you won’t be able to tell my tits from goose-pimples.’ He had to smile. That was another of the sections in the personality book: humour, usefulness of in breaking the ice.
When I’d got my things off he said, ‘Well, you’ve passed the
physical. Now the oral. Do you play chess?’ I said, ‘Chess, Simon? Do you mean the musical?’ He said, ‘No, the game.’ I said, ‘As a matter of fact, Simon, I don’t. Is that a problem?’ He said, ‘Not if you water-ski. Travis is fundamentally an outdoor girl, but we thought it might be fun to make her an intellectual on the side.’ I said, ‘Well, Simon, I’m very happy to learn both chess and water-skiing, but could I make a suggestion? Reading generally indicates a studious temperament and I’m a very convincing reader,’ I said, ‘because it’s something I frequently do in real life.’ I could tell he was impressed. And so I said, ‘Another suggestion I could make would be to kit Travis out with some glasses. Spectacles, Simon. These days they’re not unbecoming and if you put Travis in spectacles with something in paperback, that says it all.’ He said, ‘You’ve been most helpful.’ I said, ‘The paperback could be something about the environment or, if you want to maintain the water-skiing theme, something about water-skiing and the environment possibly. I mean, Lake Windermere.’
He was showing me out by this time but I said, ‘One last thought, Simon, and that is a briefcase. Put Travis in a bikini and give her a briefcase and you get the best of every possible world.’ He said, ‘I’m most grateful. You’ve given me a lot of ideas.’ I said, ‘Goodbye, Simon. I hope we can work together.’ The drill for saying goodbye is you take the person’s hand and then put your other hand over theirs, clasp it warmly while at the same time looking into their eyes, smiling and reiterating their name. This lodges you in their mind apparently. So I did all that, only going downstairs I had another thought and I popped back. He was on the phone. ‘You won’t believe this,’ he was saying. I said, ‘Don’t hang up, Simon, only I just wanted to make it crystal clear that when I said briefcase I didn’t mean the old-fashioned type ones, there are new briefcases now that open up and turn into a mini writing-desk. Being an up-to-the-minute girl, that would probably be the kind of briefcase Travis would have. She could be sitting in a wet bikini with a briefcase open on her knee. I’ve never seen that on screen so it would be some kind of first. Ciao, Simon. Take care.’
Pause.
That was last Friday. The book’s got charts where you check your interview score. Mine was 75. Very good to excellent. Actually, I’m surprised they haven’t telephoned.
GO TO BLACK.
Come up on Lesley, who is now made up and her hair done, sitting in a small bleak room in her dressing-gown. Morning.
You’d never think this frock wasn’t made for me. I said to Scott, who’s Wardrobe, ‘She must be my double.’ He said, ‘No. You’re hers. The stupid cow.’
Talk about last-minute, though. Eleven o‘clock on Tuesday night I’m just wondering about having a run round with the dustette, six o’clock next morning I’m sitting in Lee-on-Solent in make-up. When the phone went telling me I’d got the part I assumed it was Simon. So I said, ‘Hello Simon.’ He said, ‘Try Nigel.’ So I said, ‘Well, Nigel, can you tell Simon that I haven’t let the grass grow under my feet. I now play a rudimentary game of chess.’ He said, ‘I don’t care if you play a championship game of ice hockey, just don’t get pregnant.’
It transpires the girl they’d slated to do the part had been living with a racing driver and of course the inevitable happened, kiddy on the way. So my name was next out of the hat. I said to Scott, ‘I know why. They knew I had ideas about the part.’ He said, ‘They knew you had a 38-inch bust.’ His mother’s confined to a wheelchair, he’s got a lot on his plate.
Anyway, I’m ready. I’ve been ready since yesterday morning. It was long enough before anybody came near. I had a bacon sandwich which Scott went and fetched for me while I was under the dryer. I said, ‘Wasn’t there a croissant?’ He said, ‘In Lee-on-Solent?’ On
Tess
there were croissants. On
Tess
there was filter coffee. There was also some liaison.
I wanted to talk to somebody about the part, only Scott said they were out in the speed boat doing mute shots of the coastline. On
Tess
you were never sitting around. Roman anticipated every eventuality. We filmed in the middle of a forest once and the toilet arrangements were immaculate. There was also provision for a calorie-controlled diet. I said to Scott, ‘I’m not used to working like this.’ He said, ‘Let’s face it, dear. You’re not used to working. Why didn’t you bring your knitting?’ I said, ‘I do not knit, Scott.’ He said, ‘Well, file your nails then, pluck an eyebrow, be like me, do something constructive.’ He’s as thin as a rail and apparently an accomplished pianist and he seems to be make-up as well as wardrobe. On
Tess
we had three caravans for make-up alone.
Eventually Simon puts his head round the door. I said, ‘Hello, Simon.’ I said, ‘Long time no see. Did Nigel tell you I’ve learned chess?’ He said, ‘Chess? Aren’t you the one who can water-ski?’ I said ‘No.’ He said ‘Bugger’ and disappeared. I said to Scott, ‘Simon’s on the young side
for a director.’ He said, ‘Director? He couldn’t direct you to the end of the street. He just does all the running about.’ I said, ‘Who is the director?’ He said, ‘Gunther.’ I said, ‘Gunther? That sounds a continental name.’ He said, ‘Yes. German.’ I said, ‘That’s interesting. I went to Germany once. Dusseldorf.’ He said, ‘Well, you’ll have a lot to talk about.’ I’ve a feeling Scott may be gay. I normally like them only I think he’s one of the ones it’s turned bitter.
I’m still sitting there hours later when this other young fellow comes in. I said, ‘Gunther?’ He said, ‘Nigel.’ I said, ‘We spoke on the phone.’ He said, ‘Yes. I’m about to commit suicide. I’ve just been told. You don’t water-ski.’ I said, ‘Nigel. I could learn. I picked up the skateboard in five minutes.’ He said, ‘Precious. Five minutes is what we do not have. You don’t by any chance have fluent French?’ I said, ‘No, why?’ He said, ‘They’d wondered about making her French.’ I said, ‘Nigel. How can she be French when she’s called Travis? Travis isn’t a French name.’ He said, ‘The name isn’t important.’ I said, ‘It is to me. It’s all I’ve got to build on.’ He said, ‘I’ll get back to you.’ I said, ‘Nigel. I don’t have French but what I do have is a smattering of Spanish, the legacy of several nonpackage type holidays on the Costa del Sol. Could Travis be half Spanish?’ He said to Scott, ‘We wanted someone with fluent French who could water-ski. What have we got? Someone with pidgin Spanish who plays chess.’ Scott said, ‘Well, don’t tell me. I started off a landscape gardener.’

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