Separate Tables

Major Pollock.

Well, hello.

What's this?

I was rather worried about you.

Worried? Why?

- Has anybody been talking about me? - No, Major.

It's just that, when you were away for these last two days, I...

I see. Yes, I telephoned the hotel.

I talked to Miss Cooper. I told her I was visiting a friend.

A company commander who served under me in the desert campaigns

ran into a bit of bad luck, I thought I'd give him a hand.

You're always trying to help people, aren't you, Major?

Well, yes, but the fellow saved my life once,

just outside of El Alamein.

Pinned down. Short of petrol. He was a good man.

Yes.

Mark you, Jerry in the desert was a different cup of tea

from Jerry on the Western Front.

Were you in Normandy, too, Major?

No, Desert Rats, you know.

Still, we got to Berlin, eventually.

Berlin must have been depressing.

Berlin depressing?

What with all those Fräuleins and Mädchens?

I should say not.

By Jove, I could tell you a thing or two. Good life, yes, indeed.

Let's go and get brushed up for dinner.

There you are, dear. Having a stroll with the Major?

- Yes, Mummy. - Evening, Mrs. Railton-Bell.

Good evening, Major. Had your watch stopped, darling?

No, Mummy, it's going.

Well, the Major was telling me all about the desert campaign.

Sorry to have kept your pride and joy out in the cold, Mrs. R-B.

The fact is, I got on to the old days.

That's the trouble with us old retired warhorses, what?

We all talk too much.

Yes. Well, if you'll excuse me.

Sibyl, my dearest.

Do you mind if your tactless old mother whispers something in your ear?

No, Mummy.

- Such a wonderful concert this afternoon. - Yes. I'll join you in the game room.

All right.

It's just that, do you think it wise,

to make your feelings for the Major quite so public?

- My feelings for the Major? - Yes, staring at him all the time.

Talking to him for hours on end. Those meetings down on the front.

Quite a lot of people are beginning to notice.

You don't mean... You can't mean...

No. How can people be so awful?

Control yourself. Don't get into one of your states now.

It's all right, Mummy. I'm not in a state.

- Good evening, Mrs. Railton-Bell. - Good evening, Miss Cooper.

- Good evening, Sibyl. - Evening, Miss Cooper.

Dear, I think you better run upstairs and change for dinner.

You know Miss Cooper likes us to be punctual.

Stratton, still at it, I see. I don't know how you do it.

Most praiseworthy effort.

Thank you, Major.

When I was at Sandhurst... I'm sorry, I mustn't interrupt you.

That's all right. When you were at Sandhurst?

Yes, I was just going to say, when I was at Sandhurst

and when I was at Wellington, too, I was a bit like you, you know.

Sweating away at the books all the time.

Cramming away like mad, I was.

Military history, great battles of the past,

Clausewitz and all that sort of stuff.

I could have told you a lot about Clausewitz.

- Really, sir? And you can't now? - Not anymore, I'm afraid.

Everything goes, you know.

Still, I don't regret it.

I did jolly well at Sandhurst.

Did you get the Sword of Honor, sir?

Get the what?

- The Sword of Honor. - The Sword of Honor?

No, I came close to it, though. Passed out pretty high.

You're quite right, sir.

I'm sorry, my boy. Go on. I talk too much.

No, but Miss Cooper walked by and you were looking for her.

Did she? Yes, I want to have a little chat with her. Thank you.

Keep up the good work.

- I'll try, sir. - Good man.

There we are, Miss Cooper.

- What can I do for you, Major? - Nothing important.

They're sending me a copy of the West Hampshire Weekly News.

- I wondered if it had arrived. - The West Hampshire News?

Yes. I'm told they have a good page of small ads.

I might pick up a portable typewriter. I'm taking a stab at the old war memoirs.

If there are bargains, one must be quick off the mark.

Yes. There are some things in my office.

I haven't been through them yet. I'll have a look.

That's very good of you. Thank you, Miss Cooper.

I can't understand it. There's still no answer.

I'm so sorry, Mr. Fowler. Will you excuse me?

One of your old flames, Mr. Fowler?

Old flames?

No, it's an old pupil coming down for a few days.

I used to teach him Classics at school.

Rather backward I thought him in those days.

As far as old flames are concerned, I leave all that to you galloping majors.

Those days are all past and gone now, I'm afraid.

Weren't they teaching the new pronunciation in your time at Wellington?

Yes, of course. I forget now. I never was much of a hand at Greek.

Latin. Horace.

Latin. Yes, of course. Stupid of me.

Here we are, Major.

Good show. Thank you, Miss Cooper.

I think, if you don't mind, I'd like you to still keep the room.

- After all, he may be on the later train. - Yes, of course.

And if anything has gone wrong, which I don't believe,

I shall, of course, expect to pay for it.

Will you let me know when you can?

By the by, Major, you were in the Highland Division at Alamein, weren't you?

Not in the Highland Division, no.

- I thought you were. - I never said so.

I was just wondering...

Mr. Fowler, aren't we going to finish this game?

We have a shilling on it, if you'll remember.

Yes, of course. Will you excuse me?

- Good evening, Major Pollock. - Good evening.

So this is where you've been hiding.

I was not hiding. Now just shush.

Forget your work for once and let's go play billiards.

But, darling, the anatomy exams come up next month. Remember?

Jean, really.

Have you told your father about us? What did you tell him?

Charles, what did you tell him?

For heaven's sake, that we were in love with each other.

And that we're going to be married.

- Well, you told him a dirty lie. - Why? I do want to marry you.

I can never understand why...

You know my views on marriage very well.

I intend to produce paintings, not children.

And be kept in luxury by London's most celebrated surgeon.

Who has failed to pass his anatomy.

Charles? Let's go for a walk in the garden.

What? Darling, first it's billiards, now it's a walk.

But it looks so romantic.

How can I possibly mix anatomy with romance?

That shouldn't be too difficult.

Well, I'm obviously not going to get any work done.

Come on. The dinner gong will go in 15 minutes.

Where on earth are we going to walk in 15 minutes?

Charles, how dim can you be?

I rather think we'd better play billiards.

Go in, you blighter.

Bad luck, Mr. Fowler.

I only play for exercise.

That'll be a shilling, please, Mr. Fowler.

You'll ruin me, Miss Meacham.

- Come on, Charles. They've finished. - I'll take all your money.

Poor Mr. Fowler, has he ever won?

Once in 1948. It was her Christmas present to him.

There's stuffed pork tonight. We ought to be ready for the gong.

That, I expect, is young Ridgewell at last.

What is it?

- New arrival, apparently. - Great Scott.

What is it, Miss Meacham?

You should see for yourself.

Slim as a willow, dressed like a Parisian model and not a day over 30.

This place is turning into a regular nursery.

- Six suitcases. - And all matching.

And a hatbox.

Mayfair from head to foot.

Can't think what she's doing in a place like this.

- Good evening. - Mrs. Shankland?

Yes, that's right.

Good evening. I have your reservation. Will you sign there, please?

- My American address or my English? - English, please.

Can you tell me if Mr. Malcolm is in? Mr. John Malcolm?

He's out at present. He'll be in for dinner. Was he expecting you?

No, I'd like to surprise him.

Well, I won't say a word. Edgar?

How long will you be staying?

I'm not quite certain as yet.

- Could I let you know later on? - Yes, of course. Number 12.

I'll book you in just for tonight.

Dinner is at 7:00. You'll hear the gong.

- Edgar will show you to your room. - Thank you.

- You're the new one, aren't you? - Yes.

- You're over there. - Thank you.

Hello, Miss Cooper.

Major, dinner's nearly over. Aren't you going in?

No.

I'm so late, I think I'll give it a miss.

- Everything all right? - Fine, everything's on the top line.

I got to thinking about those memoirs. Time rather ran away, I'm afraid.

I found one or two portable typewriters.

Good.

I don't suppose the West Hampshire Weekly News is much read, is it?

What? Mrs. Railton-Bell takes it every week.

Does she? Whatever for?

There's not a lot goes on in the world,

even in West Hampshire, that she cares to miss.

And she can afford fourpence for the information.

I suppose so.

Funny, I've never seen her reading it. Have you?

There's a lot of stuff she has sent in she doesn't read.

Most of it she leaves on this table.

You mean, her copy's been here all the time?

No, Major, that'll be sent up with the evening papers.