were you doing in there?
DIANA . I came back.
DISSON . You mean you were in there with both of them? In there with both of them?
DIANA . Yes! So what?
Pause.
DISSON ( calmly ). I was looking for my pencil, which had rolled off my desk. Here it is. I found it, just before you came in, and put it in my pocket. My eyes hurt. I borrowed Wendy’s scarf, to calm my eyes. Why are you getting so excited?
Disson's office. Day.
DISSON at his desk, writing . WENDY walks to the cabinet, examines a file . Silence.
DISSON . What kind of flat do you have, Wendy?
WENDY . Quite a small one, Mr Disson. Quite pleasant.
DISSON . Not too big for you, then? Too lonely?
WENDY . Oh no, it's quite small. Quite cosy.
DISSON . Bathroom fittings any good?
WENDY . Adequate, Mr Disson. Not up to our standard.
Pause.
DISSON . Live there alone, do you?
WENDY . No, I share it with a girl friend. But she's away quite a lot of the time. She's an air hostess. She wants me to become one, as a matter of fact.
DISSON . Listen to me, Wendy. Don't ever . . . dream of becoming an air hostess. Never. The glamour may dazzle from afar, but, believe you me, it's a mess of a life . . . a mess of a life . . .
He watches WENDY walk to her desk with a file and then back to the cabinet .
Were you lonely as a child?
WENDY . No.
DISSON . Nor was I. I had quite a lot of friends. True friends. Most of them live abroad now, of course – banana planters, oil engineers, Jamaica, the Persian Gulf . . . but if I were to meet them tomorrow, you know . . . just like that . . . there'd be no strangeness, no awkwardness at all. We'd continue where we left off, quite naturally.
WENDY bends low at the cabinet.
He stares at her buttocks.
It's a matter of a core of affection, you see . . . a core of undying affection . . .
Suddenly WENDY’S body appears in enormous close-up. Her buttocks fill the screen.
His hands go up to keep them at bay.
His elbow knocks a round table lighter from his desk.
Picture normal .
WENDY turns from the cabinet, stands upright .
WENDY . What was that?
DISSON . My lighter.
She goes to his desk .
WENDY . Where is it?
She kneels, looks under the desk. The lighter is at his feet. She reaches for it. He kicks it across the room .
( Laughing .) Oh, Mr Disson, why did you do that?
She stands. He stands. She goes towards the lighter. He gets to it before her, stands with it at his feet. He looks at her. She stops .
What's this?
DISSON feints his body, left to right .
DISSON . Come on.
WENDY . What?
DISSON . Tackle me. Get the ball.
WENDY . What do I tackle with?
DISSON . Your feet.
She moves forward deliberately .
He dribbles away, turns, kicks the lighter along the carpet towards her. Her foot stops the lighter. She turns with it at her foot .
Ah!
She stands, legs apart, the lighter between them, staring at him.
She taps her foot.
WENDY . Come on, then!
He goes towards her. She eludes him. He grasps her arm.
That's a foul!
He drops her arm.
DISSON . Sorry.
She stands with the lighter between her feet .
WENDY . Come on, come on. Tackle me, tackle me. Come on, tackle me! Get the ball! Fight for the ball!
He begins to move, stops, sinks to the floor. She goes to him.
What's the matter?
DISSON . Nothing. All right. Nothing.
WENDY . Let me help you up.
DISSON . No. Stay. You're very valuable in this office. Good worker. Excellent. If you have any complaints, just tell me. I'll soon put them right. You're a very efficient secretary. Something I've always needed. Have you everything you want? Are your working conditions satisfactory?
WENDY . Perfectly.
DISSON . Oh good. Good . . . Good.
Disson’s house. Bedroom. Night .
DISSON and DIANA in bed, reading. She looks at him .
DIANA . You seem a little subdued . . . lately.
DISSON . Me? Not at all. I'm reading the Life of Napoleon, that's all.
DIANA . No, I don't mean now, I mean generally. Is there –?
DISSON . I'm not at all subdued. Really.
Pause.
DIANA .
DIANA . I came back.
DISSON . You mean you were in there with both of them? In there with both of them?
DIANA . Yes! So what?
Pause.
DISSON ( calmly ). I was looking for my pencil, which had rolled off my desk. Here it is. I found it, just before you came in, and put it in my pocket. My eyes hurt. I borrowed Wendy’s scarf, to calm my eyes. Why are you getting so excited?
Disson's office. Day.
DISSON at his desk, writing . WENDY walks to the cabinet, examines a file . Silence.
DISSON . What kind of flat do you have, Wendy?
WENDY . Quite a small one, Mr Disson. Quite pleasant.
DISSON . Not too big for you, then? Too lonely?
WENDY . Oh no, it's quite small. Quite cosy.
DISSON . Bathroom fittings any good?
WENDY . Adequate, Mr Disson. Not up to our standard.
Pause.
DISSON . Live there alone, do you?
WENDY . No, I share it with a girl friend. But she's away quite a lot of the time. She's an air hostess. She wants me to become one, as a matter of fact.
DISSON . Listen to me, Wendy. Don't ever . . . dream of becoming an air hostess. Never. The glamour may dazzle from afar, but, believe you me, it's a mess of a life . . . a mess of a life . . .
He watches WENDY walk to her desk with a file and then back to the cabinet .
Were you lonely as a child?
WENDY . No.
DISSON . Nor was I. I had quite a lot of friends. True friends. Most of them live abroad now, of course – banana planters, oil engineers, Jamaica, the Persian Gulf . . . but if I were to meet them tomorrow, you know . . . just like that . . . there'd be no strangeness, no awkwardness at all. We'd continue where we left off, quite naturally.
WENDY bends low at the cabinet.
He stares at her buttocks.
It's a matter of a core of affection, you see . . . a core of undying affection . . .
Suddenly WENDY’S body appears in enormous close-up. Her buttocks fill the screen.
His hands go up to keep them at bay.
His elbow knocks a round table lighter from his desk.
Picture normal .
WENDY turns from the cabinet, stands upright .
WENDY . What was that?
DISSON . My lighter.
She goes to his desk .
WENDY . Where is it?
She kneels, looks under the desk. The lighter is at his feet. She reaches for it. He kicks it across the room .
( Laughing .) Oh, Mr Disson, why did you do that?
She stands. He stands. She goes towards the lighter. He gets to it before her, stands with it at his feet. He looks at her. She stops .
What's this?
DISSON feints his body, left to right .
DISSON . Come on.
WENDY . What?
DISSON . Tackle me. Get the ball.
WENDY . What do I tackle with?
DISSON . Your feet.
She moves forward deliberately .
He dribbles away, turns, kicks the lighter along the carpet towards her. Her foot stops the lighter. She turns with it at her foot .
Ah!
She stands, legs apart, the lighter between them, staring at him.
She taps her foot.
WENDY . Come on, then!
He goes towards her. She eludes him. He grasps her arm.
That's a foul!
He drops her arm.
DISSON . Sorry.
She stands with the lighter between her feet .
WENDY . Come on, come on. Tackle me, tackle me. Come on, tackle me! Get the ball! Fight for the ball!
He begins to move, stops, sinks to the floor. She goes to him.
What's the matter?
DISSON . Nothing. All right. Nothing.
WENDY . Let me help you up.
DISSON . No. Stay. You're very valuable in this office. Good worker. Excellent. If you have any complaints, just tell me. I'll soon put them right. You're a very efficient secretary. Something I've always needed. Have you everything you want? Are your working conditions satisfactory?
WENDY . Perfectly.
DISSON . Oh good. Good . . . Good.
Disson’s house. Bedroom. Night .
DISSON and DIANA in bed, reading. She looks at him .
DIANA . You seem a little subdued . . . lately.
DISSON . Me? Not at all. I'm reading the Life of Napoleon, that's all.
DIANA . No, I don't mean now, I mean generally. Is there –?
DISSON . I'm not at all subdued. Really.
Pause.
DIANA .
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