The Lost Weekend

You'd better take this along, Don. It's gonna be cold on the farm.

- OK. - How many shirts are you taking?

- Three. - I'm taking five.

- Five? - Yeah, I told them at the office

I might not be back until Tuesday.

We'll get there this afternoon. That's Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday.

We'll make it a long, wonderful weekend.

Sounds long, all right.

It'll be good for you, Don, after what you've been through.

Trees, grass, sweet cider and buttermilk

and water from that well that's colder than any other...

Wick, please. Why this emphasis on liquids? Very dull liquids.

Sorry, Don.

I think it'd be a good idea if we took along my typewriter.

- What for? - To write.

I'm gonna write there, get started on that novel.

- You really feel up to writing? - Why not?

After what you've been through.

I haven't touched the stuff for 10 clays now.

I know. I know you haven't, Don.

- Where is the typewriter? - In the living room.

In the closet.

Kind of towards the back.

Are you sure it's in the closet? I can't find it.

Well, look by the desk.

Isn't it under your bed?

- Did you find it? - Oh, sure, sure. Here it is.

Here's some paper. Here's what we'll do. We'll fix up a table on the south porch.

Nobody will disturb you. I'll see to it.

Maybe Saturday, we can run down to the country club.

- I'm not going near that club. - Why not?

They're all a bunch of hypocrites. I don't like to be whispered about.

"Look who's here from New York, the Birnam brothers."

Or rather, the nurse and the invalid.

Stop it, Don. Nobody there knows about you.

The minute we get off the train, the alarm is sounded.

"The leper is back. Hide your liquor."

- That's Helen. - I'll take it.

- Helen. - Hello, Wick. Where's Don?

I'm glad I made it. I was afraid you'd be gone. Presents.

The new Thurber book with comical jokes and pictures,

a nice, quiet little double-murder by Agatha Christie,

cigarettes, chewing gum. And darling, have a wonderful time.

And don't forget, lots of sleep, lots of milk...

Lots of cider and lots of nice cold water from the well, I know.

Bend down.

I must be going. I'm ten minutes late for the concert already.

- So long, Wick. - What concert?

Carnegie Hall. Bob Roller's conducting. They gave me two tickets at the office.

- Who are you going with? - Nobody.

Nobody? What are they playing?

Brahms' 2nd Symphony, some Beethoven, Handel and not one note of Grieg.

- Sounds wonderful. - Goodbye, boys. See you Monday.

- Tuesday. - Wait a minute.

- Wick, I just had a crazy idea. - As for instance?

Who says we have to take the 3:15 train?

- We could go on the 6:30. - What are you talking about?

If we took a later train, Helen wouldn't have to go the concert by herself.

She's got two tickets, hasn't she?

No, I'm not going to upset any of your plans.

- You're going on the 3:15. - Oh, now, Helen, that's so silly.

A whale of a concert, an empty seat next to you.

No, Don. Everything's all set.

They'll be at the station to meet us and dinner will be waiting.

Put in a call that we're taking a later train, dinner at 9:00, in bed by 10:00.

- Nothing doing. We're going. - Wick is right.

Don't worry about that empty seat. I'll find a handsome, South American millionaire.

There you are, you hear?

Besides, we have to break our necks anyway to catch the train.

- Five to three. - You see?

- Don't be so stubborn, Wick. - All right, go ahead.

- Just a minute. I'm not going. - Then what are we talking about?

I want you to go, you and Helen.

- Me and Helen? - That's the idea.

- Who likes Brahms, you or I? - Since when don't you like Brahms?

I'll just stick around here and finish packing, take a little nap, maybe.

Nonsense. If anybody goes...

- Helen's your girl. - There's something in that, Don.

And what's more, I don't think you should be left alone.

- I shouldn't? - No.

- Not to be trusted, is that it? - After what you've been through...

I couldn't go to the concert. I couldn't face the crowds.

I couldn't sit through it with all those people.

Besides, I wanna be alone for a couple hours to assemble myself.

Is that such an extraordinary thing to want?

Don't act so outraged. Would you mind?

- All right. Anything else? - Please, boys.

Come on, Helen.

- You'll stay right here. - Where would I go?

- Then you'll be here when we get back? - I'm not leaving this apartment.

You told us a good many things, Don.

If you don't believe me take my keys, lock me in like a dog!

We've got to trust Don. That's the only way.

Sorry, Don. Let's go, Helen.

- So long, Don. - So long.

Bend down.

- What's this? - That? Whiskey, isn't it?

- How did it get there? - I don't know.

I suppose it dropped from some cloud, or someone bounced it and it stuck there.

- I guess I must have put it there. - Yes, you must.

But I don't remember when. Probably during my last spell.

Maybe the one before. I don't know.

Don't look at me like that, Helen. It doesn't mean a thing.

I didn't know it was there. If I had, I wouldn't have touched it.

- Then you won't mind. - Mind what?

- Now, you trot along with Helen. - Why? Because of that?

You think I wanted you out of the apartment because of the bottle?

I resent that like the devil. If there's one more word of discussion,

I don't leave on your blasted weekend!

Let's go, Wick.

You'll be good, won't you, Don, darling?

Yes, Helen. Will you stop watching me all the time, you too?

Let me work it out my way. I'm trying. I'm trying!

We know you're trying, Don.

We're both trying. You're trying not to drink

and I'm trying not to love you.

Call the farm, Don, and tell them we're taking the 6:30.

Sure.

So long.

'Come on, Helen. He'll be all right.'

What if he goes out and buys another bottle?

He hasn't a nickel. There isn't a store or a bar,

that'll give him five cents' worth of credit.

- He doesn't have another bottle hidden? - Not anymore.

I went over the apartment with a fine-tooth comb.

The places he can figure out.

Who is it? Who is it?

Mrs Foley. I've come to clean up.

Well, not today. Does it have to be today?

I ought to change the sheets, and it's my clay to vacuum.

- Come on Monday. - All right, Mr Birnam.

- Is your brother in? - No, he isn't.

What about my money? Didn't he leave my money?

- What money? - My ten dollars.

- Didn't he leave it? - Probably. Where would he leave it?

- In the kitchen. - Where in the kitchen?

In the sugar bowl.

Just a minute.

I'm sorry, Mrs Foley, it isn't there. He must've forgotten.

Oh, putt! I wanted to do some shopping.

- You'll get it Monday. - All right, Mr Birnam.

- Two bottles of rye. - I'm sorry, Mr Birnam.

- What are you sorry about? - Your brother was in.

He's not gonna pay for you anymore. That was the last time.

- Two bottles of rye. - What brand?

You know what brand, Mr Brophy. The cheapest.

None of that 12-year-old, aged-in-the-wood chichi. Not for me.

- Liquor's all one anyway. - You want a bag?

Yes, I want a bag.

Your brother said not to sell to you even if you did have the money.

But I can't stop anybody, can I? Not unless you're a minor.

I'm not a minor, Mr Brophy. And just to ease your conscience

I'm buying this to refill my cigarette lighter.

Yes, sir?

Thank you.

- Good afternoon, Mrs Deveridge. - Hello, Mr Birnam.

That's the nice young man who drinks.

- How's my very good friend Nat today? - Yes, Mr Birnam?

This being an especially fine afternoon,

I have decided to ask for your hand in marriage.

If that's your attitude, I'll have to drown my sorrows with a jigger of rye.

- Just one, that's all. - It can't be clone, Mr Birnam.

It can't? Let me guess why.

My brother was here, undermining my financial structure.

I didn't tell him nothing about the wristwatch or the cuff links.

Thank you very much, Nat.

Today you'll be glad to know we can barter on a cash basis.

- One straight rye. - That was the idea.

Don't wipe it away, Nat.

Let me have my little vicious circle.

You know, the circle is the perfect geometric figure.

No end, no beginning.

- What time is it? - A quarter of 4:00.

Good. We have the whole afternoon together.

Let me know when it's a quarter of 6:00. It's very important.

I'm going to the country for a weekend with my brother.

Hello, Mr Birnam. Happy to have you back with the organisation.

Hello, Gloria. I wish I could take you along, Nat.

You and all that goes with you.

Not that I'm cutting myself off from civilisation altogether.

Now, of course, there arises the problem of transportation into the country.

How to smuggle these two time bombs past the Royal Guard.

I'll roll one bottle in a copy of the Saturday Evening Post

so my brother can discover it like that.

And I want him to discover it. Because it'll set his mind at ease.

The other bottle... Come here.

That one I'm tucking into my brother's suitcase.

He shall transport it himself without knowing it, of course.

Then while he's greeting the caretaker,

I'll slide it out, hide it in a hollow old apple tree.

Oh, Mr Birnam, why don't you lay off the stuff for a while?

I may never touch it while I'm there, not a drop.

What you don't understand is that I've got to know it's around.

I can have it if I need it. I can't be cut off completely.

That's the devil. That's what drives you crazy.

Yeah, I know a lot of guys like that.

They take a bottle and put it on the shelf.

All they wanna do is just look at it. They'll corkscrew it to make sure.

Then all of the sudden, they grab the bottle, bite off the neck.

One more reproving word, I shall consult our lawyer about a divorce.