Love Is the Devil: Study for a Portrait of Francis Bacon Page #2

Nice and simple.

Not like that muck with all those sauces

you took me to last week.

- It's Boulestin, George.

- Yeah, but it's all so poncy, isn't it?

I mean, all that cutlery.

You only need one knife and one fork.

And those f***ing waiters...

Hanging around like bloody vultures.

I love it when it's just me and you.

So do I, George.

So do I.

Well, he took us for dinner,

which was fantastic,

but then he refused to pay for our taxi home.

I had to walk the whole bloody way.

Can you believe that anybody who is so rich

can be so f***ing mean?

But then he said he wanted to paint me

and I was thrilled.

OK?

So, what are we doing?

Is this what you usually get up to for Vogue?

If I photographed their string beans

naked I'd get done by Obscene

Publications. God, no.

These are sort of er...technical.

How should Francis know

what a fanny looked like?

- True.

- Ooh.

That ought to knock 'em dead.

Push your tits to either side.

That's it. And lay them in the aisles.

- Is that right?

- Oh, yes. Yes!

Move your right leg more over this way.

OK.

Yes, yes, yes.

That ought to slaughter them.

Stick both legs in the air

and point your toes just like Nijinsky.

- Really?

- Yes. Good.

I think you're taking Francis

too literally, Deakin.

I don't want the camera inside me.

A bottom shot, lovely.

Oh! Piss off!

- I'm rather looking forward to this.

- Yeah, I like a good fight.

Boxing is such a marvellous aperitif to sex.

I don't know how you work that one out.

Bullfighting does it too.

It unlocks the valves of feeling.

I've never been to Spain.

Do I detect a hint, George?

- Hello.

- Good to see you, George.

Hello, George. Haven't seen you about.

What've you been up to?

- I'm working for Mr Bacon here.

- That's all right, then, innit?

- Don't see you down the Turkish these days.

- We tend to go up West, Soho and that.

- We do, do we? We tend.

- Yeah.

Yeah, us too of a weekend.

Francis! George!

And who are your charming friends?

Henrietta, this is Ken Bidwell, Joe Furneval.

Do let's get together for a drink

after the fighting.

- I don't think so, love.

- Aw!

George, you should come down the club.

We've really pulled it together.

And don't bring the freak show.

I'll see you soon enough.

Francis keeps me pretty busy.

Yeah?

Listen, George,

you want to watch those poncy types.

A right old tart, isn't she?

You stick with your own kind, mate.

- He pay you all right?

- It's the life of Riley.

We booze it up,

play the tables down Charlie Chester's.

They look like a right bunch

of wankers to me.

You take care, George.

They'll drop you like a ton of sh*t when

they've finished with you, you mark my words.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes