Tom and Viv

Year:
1994
105 Views


HORN HONKS:

BICYCLE BELL RINGS

CHEERING AND WHISTLING

Well...

...boys!

Maurice, catch!

Quite a spark, Maurice!

Oh! Whoo!

...When the day is dawning

And all through

the wibbly wobbly walk

they get a wibbly wobbly feeling

in the morning.

They all walk

the wibbly wobbly walk

all talk

the wibbly wobbly talk

all wear

the wibbly wobbly ties

and wink at all the pretty girls

with wibbly wobbly eyes.

Oh they all smile

the wibbly wobbly...

Hey, how about over there, look?

God's sake, Viv!

For God's sake, Viv!

It's not funny!

Exactly how long have

Tom and Viv been courting?

Oh, minutes. Absolute minutes.

Really?

You can't really want

to go back to America.

What would you do?

Most likely become a professor.

Write learned papers on

obscure philosophers.

I don't know...

melt into the stones of Harvard, I suppose.

No Doris, he's my fancy man.

Whatever 'e chooses is all right by me.

- I suppose he is quite safe, this Eliot chap.

- Safe?

I can't imagine what you mean.

Tom is a brilliant scholar.

Rather Viv's type then.

I never want to see the States again.

I want to live in Europe and write poetry.

I love you.

I love you more than life itself.

- I'd do anything for you.

- Oh dear.

What?

I know all that.

You don't have to be so wet about things.

I'm sorry.

It's all right, Tom.

It's perfectly all right.

I don't think this is

quite the right place.

It's not that I don't want to.

Are you sure?

It's just that...

when we do...

I want it to be perfect.

Nothing...

Nothing in the world must go wrong.

Are you a virgin, Mr. Russell?

Not exactly.

Is Tom, do you suppose?

Very probably.

I am.

Awful thing the dreaded sex business.

- Vivvie's not though.

- Not what?

A virgin.

Forgive me Maurice but,

are you doing a survey of some kind.

- Survey?

- Into sexual habits.

Ah, no.

You see, there was

a spot of bother last year.

Vivvie took rather a shine to a chap,

Mums found out, put a stop to it.

Awful scenes, bed without dinner,

house arrest, you know the kind of thing.

- I wouldn't want to go through all that again, with Tom.

- No.

I'm sure Tom's intentions

are entirely honourable.

Not sure about Vivvie's, though.

You can stay in the house.

Mum and Dad are away,

there's nobody there except the staff.

And the house is absolutely stuffed with

cigarettes, so we can be as decadent as we like.

And the season's coming up.

Ascot, Goodwood,

the Russians at Covent Garden.

But I don't know these places, Viv.

What a wonderful time

I'll have showing you.

But I don't have any clothes.

Cor blimey, ain't you a bore?

I'll buy you some, you ninny.

Oh darling, you're going to have to learn

to make an absolute arse of yourself.

We're going to get married, be broke,

we may even starve, it'll be absolute hell.

But it'll be worth it,

because we have this love.

And nobody else has it.

This is my one chance of happiness, Maurice

and I'm taking it and I'll need the car.

Yeah but Mum and Dad

are coming home, they'll kill me.

What am I gonna tell them?

For God's sake Vivvie, you can't!

Oh God.

You're eloping, aren't you?

Well where are you getting married?

What am I gonna tell them?

Oh God.

There'll be an almighty row, I know it.

And I'll get all the blame.

Viv wants it this way, no fuss.

Look, Tom...

There's only one rule in our family.

Sort of unspoken, kind of thing.

You have to be kind to Vivvie.

I will be, Maurice. That I promise you.

No, no. I mean especially kind.

Careful handling...

"this-side-up" kind of thing.

You see, the thing is, you grow up

trying not to notice certain things.

The scenes, the closed doors...

A family of mutes...

But Mum's always said

it's not Vivvie's fault.

Not her fault at all and that's right,

she's right, you know.

Maurice, I don't think I follow.

Ah.

Well listen, Tom... man to man...

There isn't anything beastly

between you and Viv, is there?

Nothing in the... in the medical way.

Oh.

I think I can reassure you

on that point, Maurice.

I'm perfectly healthy.

HORN HONKS:

- Uh well, perhaps it's all right then.

- I'm sure it is.

HORN HONKS:

ENGINE REVS:

HORN HONKS:

Oh, I forgot.

Won't be long.

If you wouldn't mind hurrying,

my husband's waiting.

Um, yes.

The one's anodyne, the other bromide,

Miss Haigh-Wood?

Mrs Thomas Eliot.

You know Mrs Eliot,

you must never mix them?

- Yes I quite understand.

- Ma'am...

Excuse me for asking, but this is

what you were recommended, is it?

The anodyne is 60% spirit of ether

and the bromide 90% alcohol.

You think there's been some mistake?

Sir Frederick Lamb

is the King's personal physician.

Oh no Ma'am, no, I know.

It's just...

You will be careful, won't you?

I will. Thank you.

- Louise, Ma'am.

- Louise?

What's happened Maurice,

where are they?

Is it too late?

Why didn't you stop them?

Who is he?

BIRDS SQUAWKING:

I'm going out.

Will you come?

Forgive me, Tom.

There is nothing to forgive.

Where are you going?

I don't know.

Out.

Oh please Tom, don't leave me.

- Oh God, Tom, please.

- Vivvie, don't.

I can make you happy, my darling.

- I can. I can.

- Don't.

Oh.

Let me try and make you happy.

No, there is...

There is no need to say anything.

I disgust you.

Tom...

Do I?

Mr Eliot, I'm terribly sorry,

but I wonder if you could help us.

Mrs Eliot?

Vivvie? It's me.

Thank you.

Vivvie, why?

Why did you leave me?

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Michael Hastings

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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