- Afternoon, sir.
- Good afternoon.
In dealing with this, Dr Bryant,
do you think it's wise to pursue the
metaphysical nature of Blake's poetry?
Dr Bryant!
Mm?
I was asking, Doctor,
if you think that in approaching Blake
we should pursue
the metaphysical aspect of his poetry.
Most definitely.
Blake. They all get
so worked up about him.
Blake. Do you know what he is?
He is a dead poet. That's all.
I'm sorry, Dr Bryant, but I can't agree.
To dismiss William Blake
as a dead poet is "faseel".
Facile.
I've studied Blake extremely closely
over a number of years
and I absolutely disagree
with your appraisal of his genius.
Dr Bryant,
I don't think you're listening to me.
Mr Collins, I don't think
you're saying anything to me.
- Doctor, are you drunk?
- Drunk?
Of course I'm drunk.
You don't really expect me
to teach this when I'm sober?
Well, then you won't mind...
if I leave your tutorial.
Why should I mind? What do you want
to be stuck in here for anyway?
Because we want to study literature.
Literature?
Look - the sun is shining!
You're all young!
What are you doing in here?
Why don't you all go and do something?
Go out and make love or something.
Frank.
- Julia.
- Darling, can I have the car keys?
Yeah. Has your class finished?
Ages ago. Don't forget -
Brian and Elaine for supper.
- Now, you do know I'm gonna be late.
- No.
Darling, I told you,
I've got a new student coming.
- What time?
- Open University, very late.
Though why a grown adult
should want to come to this place
after putting in a hard day's labour
is beyond me.
Dr Bryant?
He actually said, "What is assonance?"
Really?
He didn't have a clue
what assonance was!
Er, come in.
Come in!
For God's sake, come in!
I'm comin' in, aren't I? You wanna get
that bleedin' handle fixed.
Er, yes, yes, I meant to.
No good meaning to,
you wanna get on with it.
One day you'll be shouting, "Come in,"
and it'll go on forever
cos the poor sod won't be able to get in
and you won't be able to get out.
- And you are...?
- I'm a what?
- Pardon?
- What?
And you are...?
What is your name?
Me first name?
Well, that would constitute
some sort of start.
- Rita.
- Rita. Ah.
Here we are.
Rita? It says here Mrs S White.
Oh, yes, that's S for Susan.
That's just me real name.
But I'm not a Susan any more,
I've changed me name to Rita.
- You know, after Rita Mae Brown?
- No.
Rita Mae Brown
who wrote Rubyfruit Jungle.
Haven't you read it?
It's a fantastic book, you know.
Do you wanna lend it?
Yes, yes. Well, thank you very much.
OK.
And what do they call you round here?
Sir.
But you may call me Frank.
OK. Frank.
That's a nice picture, isn't it, Frank?
- Er, yes, I suppose it is.
- It's very erotic.
I don't think I've looked at that picture
in ten years.
But yes, it is, I suppose so.
There's no suppose about it,
look at those tits.
Do you mind me using words like that?
- Like what?
- Tits.
- No.
- No, you wouldn't.
It's only the masses
who don't understand.
It's not their fault
but sometimes I hate them.
I do it to shock them sometimes.
You know, like, when I'm
in the hairdresser's, where I work,
I'll say something like,
"I'm really fucked," dead loud
and it doesn't half cause a fuss.
But educated people
don't worry, do they?
It's the aristocracy that swears most.
It's all "Pass me the fucking pheasant,"
with them.
But you couldn't tell them that
round our way.
- Aren't you interviewing me?
- Do I need to?
Oh, I talk too much, don't I?
Yeah, I know I talk a lot.
I don't at home but I don't often get
the chance to talk to someone like you.
Would you like to sit down?
- No. Can I smoke?
- Tobacco?
What? Yeah!
- Was that a joke?
- Yes.
- 'Ere y'are, do you want one?
- I'd like one...
- but I promised not to smoke.
- I won't tell anyone.
Promise?
I hate smokin' on me own. Everyone
seems to have packed up these days.
All afraid of getting cancer.
Bloody cowards.
- Would you like a drink?
- What of?
- Whisky.
- Oh, yeah.
My mate's got a drinks cabinet like that.
Tell me, what made you
suddenly decide to do this?
It's not sudden. I've been realising
for ages that I'm out of step.
I'm 26, I should've had a baby by now.
Everyone expects it.
But I mean, I don't want a baby yet. No.
I wanna discover meself first.
Do you understand that?
- Yes.
- Yeah.
I've, you know, I've tried to explain it
to me husband, you know,
but, between you and me,
I think he's thick.
Well, he doesn't want to see, yeah.
- What's this like?
- Howards End?
Howards End! Sounds filthy, doesn't it?
EM Foster.
- Forster.
- Oh, yeah.
- What's it like?
- Read it. Would you like to borrow it?
Yeah, all right. I'll look after it for you.
If I pack the course in, I'll post it back.
You haven't even started yet.
Why would you pack it in?
Well, I just might, you know.
Might think it was a soft idea.
- What does assonance mean?
- What?
- Don't laugh at me.
- Er, no.
Erm, assonance, it's a form of rhyme.
Erm, what's an example?
Do you know Yeats?
- The wine lodge?
- No, WB Yeats, the poet.
No.
Well, in his poem
The Wild Swans At Coole,
Yeats rhymes the word "swan"
with the word "stone".
You see?
That's an example of assonance.
Ooh, yeah,
means getting the rhyme wrong.
I've never thought of it like that
but I suppose it does mean
getting the rhyme wrong.
I love this room.
I love the view from this window.
Do you like it?
I don't often consider it.
I sometimes get the urge
to throw something through it.
- What?
- A student, usually.
You're bleedin' mad, aren't ya?
Probably.
What are you lookin' at?
Are you a good ladies' hairdresser, Rita?
Yeah, I am. But they expect
too much, you know.
Like, women come in the hairdresser's
and half an hour later
they wanna walk out a different person.
You know, but I mean,
if you wanna change,
you've got to do it from the inside,
haven't you, like I'm trying to do.
Do you think I'll be able to learn?
Are you sure you're serious
about wanting to learn?
I'm dead serious, yeah.
I know I take the piss
but that's only because
I'm not, well, confident, like.
But I want to be. Honest.
When, you know, when do you actually
start teaching me, like?
What can I teach you?
Everything.
You want a lot.
And I can't give it.
Between you and me and the walls,
actually I am an appalling teacher.
That's all right most of the time -
appalling teaching is quite in order
for my appalling students
but it is not good enough for you,
young woman.
All I know is -
and you must listen to this -
all I know is that I know
absolutely nothing.
And besides, I don't like the hours
of this Open University business.
They expect me to teach
when the pubs are open.
It's all right.
There are other tutors, good ones.
I will arrange one for you.
Are you saying you want me to go?
Goodbye, Rita.
Wait a minute. Listen to me.
I'm on this course, you are my tutor
and you're gonna bleedin' well teach me.
There are other teachers.
You're my tutor!
I don't want another one.
- For God's sake, woman!
- But you're my tutor!
I told you, I do not want to do it.
Why pick on me?
Because you're a crazy mad piss artist
who wants to throw his students
through the window.
I like ya! Don't you recognise
a compliment?
And when I come next week
I'll cut your hair.
You will not be coming here next week.
- I will be, and you'll be getting a haircut.
- I will not.
You wanna walk round looking like that?
- Like what?
- Like a geriatric hippy.
See ya next week.
Goin' the wrong way.
Are you familiar with Forster?
Yes, of course. Superb.
Between you and me, I think he's crap.
- You're a student, aren't ya?
- Yes.
So am I.
Brian, why don't you get Elaine a refill?
And yourself, of course.
Well, as Frank hasn't arrived yet.
- Lovely record, Julie.
- Yes, isn't it?
I do hope Frank won't be too late.
God, I forgot -
I meant to phone my publisher.
- May I, Julia?
- Of course.
Shan't be a minute, dear.
All right, darling?
- Lovely.
- Good.
- Brian.
- Darling.
It's Frank.
Yes, yes, I know that, Morgan.
I don't think you've even
read the contract.
Morgan, you don't seem to be
listening to me.
You realise that I'll probably
have to go to Jones.
- Hello, darling.
- Hello.
- Hello, Elaine.
- Hello, Frank.
- You didn't go to the pub then?
- I changed my mind.
Good. I'll see to the dinner.
But Morgan, you don't seem
to understand how important this is.
It is imperative that the book is
published before the next academic year.
Yes, yes, yes, all right.
I'll phone tomorrow. Goodbye.
Sorry about that - my publisher.
Frank, I wanted to mention this
before we dine.
Slightly embarrassing.
Thing is, there's been
a bit of a complaint.
A complaint, Brian?
Yes, well, apparently, you were
a little drunk at your tutorial today.
- No.
- No?
- No, I was a lot drunk.
- Frank, why do you do it?
When you've got...
Well, what haven't you got?
- A drink, at the moment.
- Oh, Frank.
The staff accept that you...
Well, we understand that you drink
but it shouldn't be
displayed to the students.
Do you know what assonance means?
- Of course.
- Yeah? Go on.
- Assonance.
- Yeah.
Assonance is a rhyme,
the identity of which depends
merely on the vowel sounds.
An assonance is merely
a... syllabic resemblance.
Assonance means
getting the rhyme wrong.
I want to look like that.
- OK.
- Is that a book you're reading?
- Yeah, yeah.
- What's it called?
- Of Human Bondage.
- Yeah?
My husband's got a lot of books like that.
What, Somerset Maugham books?
No, bondage books.
Oh.
Oh, hello. I was just oiling it for ya.
Ooh, sorry, Frank.
- You can have that.
- Sit down.
I love walking round this room.
Rita, don't you ever just
come into a room and sit down?
I don't want to sit down.
I love that lawn down there.
All the proper students.
What?
Oh, yes, yes.
Now, er, this essay you wrote for me.
It was crap.
No, no. The thing is, Rita,
how the hell can you write an essay
on EM Forster
with almost total reference
to Harold Robbins?
Oh, well... Well, you said
to bring in other authors.
"Reference to other works
will impress the examiners," you said.
Yes, I said refer to other works but
I doubt if the examiner will have read...
- Where Love Has Gone.
- That's his hard luck.
And it'll be your hard luck
when he fails your paper
because he would
if you wrote like this during an exam.
Oh, that's prime. Now, there's justice.
I fail cos I'm more well-read
than the friggin' examiner.
Devouring pulp fiction
is not being well-read.
I thought reading
was supposed to be good for one.
It is but you have to be selective.
In your favour here
you've mentioned Sons And Lovers
but this is all over the place.
- Oh.
- It's very subjective and sentimental.
Yeah - crap.
No, there are things that are worthy in it.
If you're going to learn criticism, Rita,
you have to discipline
that mind of yours.
- Are you married?
- What?
Are ya? What's your wife like?
For God's sake, is my wife relevant?
- You should know, you married her.
- Then she is not relevant.
I haven't seen her
in a long time, we split up.
- Sorry.
- Why are you sorry?
- Sorry for asking, being nosy.
- OK.
- The thing about...
- Why did you split up?
Why don't you take notes?
Then when you answer on Forster
you can write an essay
called Frank's Marriage.
Go 'way! I'm only interested.
- We split up, Rita, because of poetry.
- You what?
One day, my wife explained to me
that, for the past 15 years,
my output as a poet had dealt
entirely with the part of our lives
in which we discovered each other.
- Are you a poet?
- Was.
So, to give me something new
to write about, she left me.
A noble woman, my wife -
she left me for the good of literature.
Remarkably, it worked.
You wrote a lot of good stuff, did ya?
No, I stopped writing altogether.
- Are you taking the piss?
- No.
Come on, people don't split up because
of things like that, because of literature.
Ah, you may be right.
But that's how I remember it.
Now, let's get back to Howards End.
- So do you live on your own?
- Rita!
I'm only askin'!
I live with a girl, her name is Julia,
she's a young tutor here.
She's very caring, very tolerant,
and she admires me enormously.
- And do you like her?
- I like her enormously.
It's myself I'm not too fond of.
- You're great!
- Aha!
A vote of confidence. Thank you.
No, you'll find there is less to me
than meets the eye.
See? You can say dead clever things!
I wish I could talk like that, it's brilliant.
Rita, why didn't you walk in here
20 years ago?
I don't think they would've accepted me
at the age of six.
- Now, come on - Forster.
- Oh, forget him.
Now, listen, you asked me to teach you,
you want to learn.
That's going to take a lot of work.
You've barely had any schooling,
you have never been in an examination.
Possessing a hungry mind is not in itself
a guarantee of success.
All right. I just don't like
Howards bleedin' End.
Then go back to what you do like
and stop wasting my time!
Go and buy yourself a dress
and I'll go to the pub.
Is that you putting your foot down?
It is, actually!
Aren't you impressive
when you're angry?
Oh, Rita.
Denny?
What the frig is goin' on?
I thought I'd make these two rooms into
a through lounge. Improve the house.
There's only one way you could improve
this house - by bombing it.
It'll look great, this, when I've finished.
Once I've got the plaster up,
you won't recognise it.
Denny, come to the theatre with me.
What? What for?
If we went to the theatre
we could see the play
and it would help me do me essay.
I've told you, Susan,
I don't like you doing this, right?
Just leave me out of it.
- Where you goin'?
- Upstairs, with Peer Gynt.
With who?
It's a book, you prat.
I thought we were going down
the Bierkeller.
What for?
D'you know, they've got
eight different kinds of beer.
Who'd have thought they'd have built
paradise at the end of our street?
"Suggest ways in which... "
"Suggest ways... "
You know what's wrong
with you, don't you, Susan?
Well? What is wrong with me?
You need a baby.
Oh, do I?
How long is it
since you stopped taking the pill?
Susan! When was it
you stopped taking the pill?
Erm...
December!
I mean, that's nearly six months ago
and you're still not pregnant.
I think we'd better get you to a doctor.
It can't be anything wrong with me.
I mean, fellas in our family only have to
look at a woman and she's pregnant.
Oh, must be
because you're all cockeyed.
Ha, ha.
Come on, get ready.
I thought we were going to the Bierkeller.
I thought you were studying.
How can I do me essay
with you demolishing the house?
All right, all right. I'll just finish this
and I'll get changed.
Go on, hit it.
Hit it!
You can't just bloody belt it, you know.
- Why not?
- It has to be taken down carefully.
Ah, go 'way. Go on, hit it.
Get out. What would you know about it?
It needs the small hammer.
Oh, God!
Oh!
You're a mad bitch, you are!
You're still my girl, aren't ya?
I could be, if you play your cards right.
- Hello, Frank.
- Hello, George.
- Brian.
- I'm going to leave Elaine.
- Brian, I don't think...
- You must leave Frank.
No. No, he needs me.
Needs you? Most of the time
he can't even see you!
He does need me. He responds to me.
Is that why he's always
four parts pissed?
Recently he's hardly been drinking.
I know it's taking a long time
but he's starting to respond
to the security I can offer him.
- Oh, Brian.
- Oh, Julia.
Lesley, you promised me
an essay by tomorrow.
Don't be so bloody crass, Morgan.
- Julia?
- Yes, yes, I know that but...
Have you got the text of Peer Gynt?
I think so.
No, I'm not presenting you with
an ultimatum, Morgan. I realise...
- What's it for?
- My Open University student.
Oh, yes. What's her name?
- Rita.
- That's right, Rita.
- When are we going to meet this Rita?
- Sometime, I suppose.
Look, Morgan, our association now
has lasted eight years.
- You must invite her to supper.
- Er, well...
- She sounds fun.
- Yeah. Thank you for the text.
- Unless I hear from you...
- Doesn't he have a phone?
Goodbye.
Frank.
- Yeah?
- I think you ought to know that I, er...
intend to leave my...
...publisher.
Well, that would help with
my phone bill considerably.
- Bye. Bye-bye, darling.
- Bye.
Frank!
Hello.
Forster!
Friggin' Forster.
I'll tell you what Forster does,
it gets on my tits.
- Show me the evidence.
- Dirty sod.
I can't understand what he's on about.
It's no good, Frank - when it comes
to Forster, I just can't understand.
You will, Rita, you will.
Well, it's all right for you.
I just can't figure it.
Yes. Well, do you think we might forget
about Forster for the moment?
With pleasure.
I would like to talk about
this that you sent me.
- Oh, yeah.
- Oh, yes.
Yes, well, now... In reply to the question,
"Suggest how you would resolve
the staging difficulties
"inherent in a production
of Ibsen's Peer Gynt"
you have written, quote,
"Do it on the radio. "
Unquote.
Yeah.
- Well?
- Well what?
Well, I know it's probably
quite naive of me
but I did think you might let me have
a considered essay.
Yeah, well, that's all I could do
in the time.
We've been dead busy in the shop.
- You write your essays at work?
- Yes.
Denny doesn't like me doing this.
He gets narked if I work at home
and I can't be bothered arguing with him.
Rita, you can't go on producing work
as thin as this,
not if you want to pass an exam.
I thought that was the right answer.
I sort of encapsulated all me ideas
into one line.
It's the basis for an argument
but a single line is not an essay.
You know that as well as I do.
- What?
- I've done it.
You've done what?
Me essay.
"In attempting to resolve
the staging difficulties
"in a production of Peer Gynt
"I would present it on the radio
because, as Ibsen says,
"he wrote it as a play for voices,
"never intending it to go on in a theatre.
"If they had had the radio in his day,
"that is where he would have done it. "
Denny?
Denny!
Denny?
I just shouted you.
Denny...
I don't want to have a baby,
not until I've discovered meself.
Give 'em!
- Denny!
- Get off!
No, for Christ's sake...
Hello?
What's wrong?
This is getting to be a bit wearisome.
Whenever you come here, Mrs White,
you'll do anything
except start work immediately.
Come on.
- Where's your essay?
- I haven't got it.
- You haven't done it?
- I haven't got it.
Don't tell me - it's been stolen.
Whilst you were sleeping,
a group of Cambridge dons broke in
and stole your essay on Chekhov.
- Rita?
- It's burnt.
What?
So are the Chekhov books you lent me.
Denny found out I was on the pill,
he's burnt all me books.
Oh, Christ.
I'm sorry, I'll get you some more books.
Oh, sod the books.
I wasn't referring to the books.
Why can't he just let me
get on with me learning?
You'd think I was having an affair,
the way he behaves.
- Perhaps you are having an affair.
- Go 'way, I'm not!
What time have I got for an affair?
Jesus, I'm busy enough finding meself,
let alone finding anyone else.
I'm beginning to find me.
It's great. It is, you know, Frank.
It might sound selfish but all I want
for now is what I'm finding inside me.
Certainly don't wanna go
rushing off with some fella.
Perhaps he thinks we're having an affair.
Oh, go 'way. You're me teacher.
I told him that.
- You told him about me?
- Yeah.
- What?
- Oh, well, I've tried to explain to him
how you give me room to breathe.
You, like, feed me
without expecting anything in return.
- What did he say?
- He didn't.
I said to him, "You soft git,
even if I was having an affair
"there's no point in burning me books.
"I'm not having it off
with Anton Chekhov. "
He said, "Yeah, I wouldn't put it past you
to shack up with a foreigner. "
What are you gonna do, Rita?
I told him, I'd only have a baby
when I've got choice.
But he doesn't understand.
Do you love him?
I see him looking at me sometimes and...
I know what he's thinking.
I do, you know. He's wondering
where the girl he married has gone to.
He even brings me presents sometimes,
hoping that the presents
will make her come back
but she can't, she's gone.
And I've taken her place.
'Good evening. Professor Bodkin
continues his lectures on... '
- Are you coming to bed?
- In a minute.
'... as you have already recognised,
it's a play remarkably rich in texture,
'somewhat confusingly so in my case.
'The interior life of the characters
is rarely evident... '
Therefore, the tragic hero
will fall from grace
because of this flaw in his character.
There you have it.
One is an outer emphasis...
Er, excuse me a moment.
Frank, Frank, I'm sorry,
I just had to tell somebody.
- What's wrong?
- Last night, Frank, I went to the theatre.
- I thought it was something serious!
- It was.
It was Shakespeare!
- I thought something happened to you.
- Something did happen to me.
It was fantastic.
Macbeth, it was. I bought the book!
Oh, it done my head in.
I thought it was gonna be dead boring
but it wasn't, it was electric.
Wasn't his wife a cow?
And that bit where he meets Macduff
and thinks he's all invincible.
I was on the edge of me seat
because I knew!
I wanted to shout out and warn Macbeth!
You didn't, did you?
No!
They'd have thrown me out the theatre.
Macbeth's a tragedy, isn't it?
- Right.
- Right.
Well, I... I just wanted to tell someone
who'd understand.
Rita, I am honoured that you chose me.
Well, I'm sorry I disturbed you.
Rita, wait a minute. We're near the end -
why don't you come in?
- Oh, no, Frank!
- Come on, you'll find it interesting.
In you come, don't worry about it.
This is Mrs White, she comes to me once
a week for an Open University course,
and she'll be joining us
for the rest of this tutorial. You sit there.
Now, erm, where were we?
Ah, yes - tragedy.
We must not confuse tragedy -
well, the real tragedy of drama -
with the merely tragic.
Let's a take a tragic hero,
Macbeth for instance.
We see that the flaw in his character
forces him to take the inevitable step
towards his own doom.
Whereas, what we read in the newspaper
as being tragic -
er, "man killed by falling tree" -
is not a tragedy.
It is for the poor sod under the tree.
- What are you laughing at?
- It's tragic, yes, absolutely tragic,
but it is not a tragedy
in the way that Macbeth is a tragedy.
Why?
Because the tree...
- I wish I could think like they do.
- It's quite easy, Rita.
Oh, it is for you, and them.
I just thought it was
a dead exciting story, Macbeth.
But you lot, you see all sorts
of things in it, don't you?
It's fun, tragedy, isn't it?
All them, they know all about
that sort of thing, don't they?
Rita, what do you do on Saturdays?
- I work.
- Well, after you finish work.
- I dunno.
- I want you to come over to the house.
Why?
Julia's organised a few people
to come round to dinner.
You want me to come? Why?
- Why do you think?
- I dunno.
Because you might enjoy yourself.
Will you come?
- If you want.
- What do you want?
- Yeah, all right, I'll come.
- Will you bring Denny?
- I dunno if he'll come.
- Well, ask him.
All right.
Christ, me customer!
She's still under the drier, she'll come
out looking like a friggin' Muppet!
I was at a house once where they served
chocolate mints with their coffee!
My husband?
Oh, he's an electrician, you know.
There's a marvellous Chinese takeaway
just at the end of our street, you know.
Have you seen Macbeth?
By William Shakespeare?
'Aldershot 3, Southend 2.
'Cardiff 1, Wrexham 1.'
- Are you gonna change your mind?
- No.
What will you do?
I'm going to the pub with your mum and
dad. That's where you should be going.
But we're not good enough
for you now, are we?
'Millwall 2, Mansfield 2.
- 'Port Vale 1... '
- Denny, he invited us both.
Come on, change your mind,
come with me.
You might actually like him.
Oh, might I, actually, Susan?
Well, isn't that actually actually nice?
Well, sod you.
'... Grimsby 3.'
Oh, great!
That's me stop!
Stop!
Oh, sod it.
? But that's OK
? Who needs all that talking?
? Who needs all that walking?
? When we can do
? We can do
? What we want to
? I'm not dreaming of other women
and I love you
? But it's always
? On the way
? I'm so happy that you're so happy
that we're so happy
? Together
? That's OK
? Who needs all that talking?
Of course you could've come.
- I couldn't.
- Why?
I'd brought the wrong sort of wine.
Christ, I wanted you to come! You didn't
have to dress up and bring wine.
If you go out to dinner,
don't you dress up?
- Don't you take wine?
- Yes, I do but...
- Well?
- Well, what?
You wouldn't take sweet sparkling wine.
Does it matter what I do?
It wouldn't have mattered if you'd walked
in carrying a bottle of Spanish plonk.
It was Spanish.
Couldn't you just relax?
It wasn't fancy dress,
you could've come as yourself.
Don't you realise what all those people
would've seen
had you just come breezing in?
They would've seen someone
who is funny, charming, delightful.
I don't wanna be
charming and delightful.
Or funny. What's funny?
I don't wanna be funny.
I wanna talk seriously with the rest of ya.
Don't wanna come
to play the court jester.
You weren't being asked to play that
role. I just wanted you to be yourself.
Yeah, well, I don't wanna be meself.
What's me, eh? Eh? Some stupid woman
who gives us a laugh
because she thinks she can learn,
that one day she'll be talking seriously,
confidently, living a civilised life?
She can't really be like that
but she's good for a laugh.
If you think you were invited just to be
laughed at, you can get out now.
You were invited
because I wished to have your company.
Yeah, well.
I'm all right with you, here in this room,
but when I saw those people
you were with, I couldn't come in.
I just seized up, cos I'm a freak.
I can't talk to the people
I live with any more,
I can't talk to the likes of them
at your house
because I'm a half-caste.
I decided I wasn't coming here again.
I went to the pub.
'They were all singing, all of 'em.
'Denny, looking happy. He'd just got
a few days' holiday from work.
'And me mother, not really on top form,
something was worrying her.
'Probably me dad.
'They were never really
love's young dream.
'Our Sandra, in love.
'Her fianc, about the same.
'And her mates, all of 'em, singing...
'oh, some song they'd learned
from the jukebox.
'And I thought, "Just what the frig
am I trying to do?
"'Why don't I just pack it in, stay here
"'and join in with the singin'?"'
- And why didn't you?
- You think I can, don't you?
You think because you pass a pub
doorway and hear them all singing,
you think we're all OK,
that we're surviving with the spirit intact.
? Together
? That's OK?
'I did join in the singing
'but when I turned around,
me mother had stopped singin',
'and she was cryin'.'
I said, "Why are you crying, Mother?"
And she said, "There must be
better songs to sing than this. "
And I thought, "Yeah,
that's what I'm trying to do, isn't it?"
Sing a better song.
That's why I've come back
and that's why I'm staying.
So let's start work.
Now, big smile in a minute.
Big smile, big cheese, all right?
All in, all in.
Right, here we go.
Cheese!
Great, great. Now, just one more.
Big smile, now, come on there, love.
Here we go.
Great.
- Now, smile.
- Well...
that's the last of you lot off me hands.
Mind you, I don't know why some of you
bother getting bloody married.
Smile! Lovely.
- What's that supposed to mean?
- You're still not pregnant.
- Smile.
- Lovely!
How old are you now, Susan?
74, Dad.
You're not, you're 27.
Been married six years
and still no babby to show for it.
Here's your sister, two minutes married
and she's already four months pregnant.
Lovely! Lovely!
Now, just the last one now, last one.
Why don't you broadcast it?
Nothing wrong with being pregnant
before you're married.
Your mother was three months gone
before I married her.
Smile!
That's just what
I've always admired in you, Dad -
you're overflowing
with innate sensitivity and charm.
Thank you all very much.
Say, Denny. Denny, I'm sorry for you, lad.
If she was a wife of mine I'd drown her.
If I was a wife of yours I'd drown meself.
Hey, that was your father you insulted.
Oh, sod off.
It's dead easy, Susan -
you stop going to that university
and you stop taking the pill
or you're out.
- Why?
- You know why.
I don't, Denny.
All I'm doing is getting an education.
Just trying to learn. And I love it.
It's not easy, I get it wrong half the time,
I'm laughed at half the time
but I love it because it makes me feel
as though I'm in the land of the living.
All you try and do is put a rope around
me neck and tie me to the ground.
Are you gonna pack it in, Susan?
Did he say anything else to you
before you left?
He said it's warped me,
he said I betrayed him.
And I suppose I have.
Where are you staying?
Erm, me mother's. She said I can
go there for a bit and then...
...then I'll get a flat.
I'll be all right in a minute.
Give me a minute.
- What was me Macbeth essay like?
- Sod Macbeth.
- Why?
- Rita...
Come on, I want you to tell me
what you thought about it.
- Under the circumstances...
- It doesn't matter.
Under the circumstances
I need to do this. What was it like?
I told you it was no good.
Was it really useless?
I don't know what to say.
Yeah, well,
try and think of something, Frank.
I don't mind if you tell me it was rubbish.
I don't want pity. Was it rubbish?
No, no, it wasn't rubbish.
It was a totally honest, passionate
account of your reaction to a play.
- Sentimental?
- No, it was too honest for that.
It was almost moving.
But in terms of what you're asking me
to teach you,
in terms of passing examinations...
God. You see, I...
Say it! Go on. Say it.
In those terms, it's worthless.
It shouldn't be but it is.
But, in its own terms,
it's wonderful.
It's worthless, you said.
If it's worthless, you have got to tell me
because I wanna write essays like those.
I wanna learn and pass exams
like they do.
Yes, but if you're gonna write that sort
of stuff, you're going to have to change.
All right. But just tell me how to do it.
Yes, but I don't know if I want to tell you.
I don't know that I want to teach you.
What you have already is too valuable.
Valuable? What's valuable?
The only thing I value is here,
comin' here once a week.
But don't you see? If you're gonna write
that sort of stuff, pass examinations,
you're gonna have to suppress,
perhaps abandon, your uniqueness.
I'm gonna have to change you.
But don't you realise I want to change?
Is this your way of telling me
that I'm not good enough?
Of course you're good enough.
- If that's what you're saying, I'll go now.
- No.
Rita, I promise you,
you are good enough.
You see, it's difficult for you
with someone like me
but you've just got to keep telling me
and I'll start to take it in.
With me, you've gotta be dead firm.
You won't hurt me feelings.
If I do something that's crap,
I don't want pity,
I want you to say, "That's crap. "
Here.
It's crap.
So we dump it on the fire
and we start again.
- Frank.
- What?
- I don't wanna go.
- You have to.
Frank, I wish you were gonna be there.
- You understand me.
- So will the tutors at summer school.
- What if they realise how thick I am?
- They won't because you're not.
Rita, my dear, you can do it now.
Write the kind of essay you've begun to
write and you'll have nothing to fear.
- I still wish you were gonna be there.
- So do I, Rita.
Right, I've got your address in France,
so, er, I'll write to you, every day.
So have a good holiday.
And don't drink too much, will ya?
And no all-night parties.
- I should be so lucky!
- I mean it.
- Oh, do ya?
- Yes.
All right, I'll go to bed at ten every night
with a cup of cocoa and Howards End.
That's if Howard shows up.
- Bye-bye.
- Bye, Frank.
It's a pity I never brought my diary -
"One should always have something
sensational to read on the train"!
Oscar Wilde.
'Dear Frank,
today was me first real day here,
'and you know what?
I actually rode a bike.
'How's France?
I haven't heard from you.
'At first,
it was like I thought it would be.
'I didn't know anyone
and I was gonna go home.
'But, Frank, listen,
you would've been dead proud of me.
'I was standing in the library, you know,
looking at the books
'pretending I was dead clever.
'Anyway, this tutor
came up to me and he said... '
Are you fond of Ferlinghetti?
'Frank, it was on the tip of me tongue to
say, "Only when served with Parmesan. "
'But, Frank, I didn't, I held it back.
And I heard meself saying... '
Erm, actually, I'm not too familiar
with the American poets.
Well, if you like Ferlinghetti...
'Frank, he started telling me
all about the American poets.
'He wasn't even one of me official tutors.
'There must have been hundreds of us
in this lecture hall
'but when the professor finished
and asked if anyone had any questions,
'I stood up.
'Honest to God, I stood up. '
Yes?
'And everyone's looking at me.
I don't know what possessed me.
'I was going to sit down but hundreds
of people had seen me stand up.
'So I did it. I asked him a question. '
Erm, I was... I was wondering
if you think that Chekhov
was showing us the aristocracy
as, like, a decaying class.
This view of a Chekhovian aristocracy
in decay,
it is, I presume, one you've picked up
from Dr Palmer's book on Chekhov?
- No, no. I mean, excuse me, but no.
- I beg your pardon?
No, I didn't get it from that book.
I haven't read it.
Er, you see, the way I see Chekhov...
'Frank, you couldn't keep me down
after that.
'I've been asking questions all week,
mostly about Chekhov
'because, as you know,
I'm dead familiar with Chekhov. '
Hello, Bursar. How are you?
A new term beckons.
Dr Bryant, you're back
before term begins.
Preparations, Bursar, preparations.
I can't stand here idling,
there's work to be done.
Frank!
Rita!
My God, what is this vision
I see before me?
Do you like it? I've got a whole
new wardrobe. Do you like it?
It's very nice.
Did you manage to get any work done?
Work? We never stopped.
Lashing us with it, they were.
Another essay - lash! Do it again - smack!
Another lecture - lash! It was fantastic.
Frank, I could've stayed forever.
Oh, Frank, I've got so much to tell ya.
- Well, I'm free for the rest of the day.
- Great.
I bought you cigarettes in the duty free.
Frank, I've packed up.
Congratulations.
- Got a present for you.
- Oh? What is it?
It's not much but I thought, you know...
- Oh.
- Look, see what's written on it.
It's engraved.
"Must only be used for poetry.
"By strictest order, Rita. "
- I thought it'd be a gentle hint.
- Gentle?
What are we gonna be doing this term,
Frank? Let's do a dead good poet.
One of the greats.
- A dead good poet...
- Mmm.
- I've got just the man for you.
- Who?
They overcomplicate him, Rita,
they overcomplicate him.
You won't, you'll love him.
I was going to introduce him to you
before but I was saving him for you.
- Who?
- Read this.
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
- You know it.
- Yeah, we did it at summer school.
- You did Blake at summer school?
- Yeah.
You weren't supposed to.
No, I know but we had this lecturer
and he was a real Blake freak.
So you've, er, you've done, er, Blake?
Yeah.
- Songs Of Innocence And Experience?
- Oh, course.
Well, you don't do Blake without doing
Innocence And Experience, do you?
Thanks, Frank.
Sure you don't want me to come in?
You never know who you'll meet.
If I end up as a white slave
I'll send you a postcard.
Go on! I'll see you at the tutorial.
Yes?
Erm... I've come about the advert.
You know, for sharing the flat.
Wouldn't you just die
without Mahler?
Oh! What am I doing?
Come in, come in.
Just through there, we're up the stairs,
sort of mezzanine level. Follow me.
Well, this is it.
A small place but mine own.
Do say you'll take it! You're positively
the first human being that's applied.
Yeah. Yeah, I'll take it.
What?
I said I'll take the flat!
Oh, what am I doing?
This is madness!
What do you...?
- What do you do?
- Er, I'm a hairdresser.
Oh, dear. By choice?
I suppose so.
What do you do?
Oh, darling, a bit of this, a bit of that.
I'm running a bistro
for a friend at the moment.
Fascinating people. You'd love it!
What did you say your name was?
- Well, I've, er...
- Oh, Mahler!
Wouldn't you just die without him?
Hello, Frank.
Hello, Rita. You're late.
I know, I know. I'm terribly sorry, Frank.
But, Frank, wouldn't you simply die
without Mahler?
Frankly, no.
Why are you talking like that?
I have merely decided to talk properly.
You see, as Trish says, there's not a lot
of point in discussing beautiful literature
with a ugly voice.
But you haven't got an ugly voice.
At least, you didn't have.
- Why don't you just be yourself?
- I am being meself.
- Who the hell is Trish, anyway?
- Me new flatmate.
- Oh. Is she a good flatmate?
- Frank, she's fantastic.
She's dead classy, you know?
She's got taste, like you have.
Everything in the flat
is dead unpretentious.
Just books and plants everywhere.
I'm having the time of me life.
I am, you know? I feel young.
Rita, 27 is hardly old.
Yes, I know but I mean, I feel young.
I can be young, like them down there.
I want you to do an essay on Blake.
I know you're an expert on Blake now
but I haven't had the benefit
of your wisdom on the subject.
Are you still on that stuff?
Did I ever say I wasn't?
- Well, no, but...
- But what?
Why do it when you've got
so much going for you?
It is because I have
so much going for me that I do it.
Life is such a rich and frantic world
that I need the drink
to help me step delicately through it.
It'll kill you, Frank.
Rita, I thought you weren't interested
in reforming me.
- I'm not! It's just...
- Just what?
Well, I thought you might have started
reforming yourself.
Under your influence?
But, Rita, if I take the oath -
if I repent and reform -
what will I do
when your influence is no longer here?
No, your going is as inevitable as...
- Macbeth.
- As tragedy, yes.
But it will not be a tragedy
because I shall be glad to see you go.
Oh, thank you very much.
Will you really?
Be glad to see you go? Of course.
I wouldn't want you to stay
in a room like this forever.
You can be a real misery sometimes.
I was dead happy when I came in.
Now I feel like I'm having
a bad night in the morgue.
- He's eaten it.
- He hasn't!
Darling, could you take table 14?
- Yeah, OK.
- That horrible man
keeps coming in here to chat me up.
Where are the real men these days?
Why don't we get the likes of Shelley
and Byron and Coleridge in here?
- I think they'd smell a bit.
- Oh, you are a love.
Did you see
the production of Saint Joan...
Can I take your order?
Er, I'll begin with the pt mackerel.
Oh, yeah, that's very good, yeah.
Really, it was beautiful.
- It was written later than that.
- It was 1926.
I know that Shaw wrote
Saint Joan in 1926.
He didn't, Tiger. Shaw wrote it in 1936.
Actually, Shaw wrote Saint Joan in 1923
but the first production was in 1924
at the New Theatre in London.
More wine, anyone?
- Hi, Susan.
- Hiya.
Hi, Susan!
Susan!
- What?
- We want you to settle an argument.
- What about?
- Lawrence's early works.
I reckon they're a load of rubbish.
- Hello, Susan.
- What's up?
Hiya, Frank.
I'm sorry I'm late. I got talking to some
students, I never realised the time.
Well, well, well.
You talking to students, Rita.
Well, don't sound so surprised!
I can talk, you know.
You used to be so wary of them.
God knows why. They don't half
come out with some rubbish.
You're telling me!
Do you know what one of them said?
He said that, as a novel, he preferred
Lady Chatterley to Sons And Lovers.
Right, so I thought,
"Right, either I can ignore this
"or I can put him straight. "
So I put him straight.
- So you finished him off, did you, Rita?
- Oh, Frank, he was asking for it.
He was an idiot.
His argument just crumbled.
It wasn't just me, anyway.
Everyone agreed with me.
Tiger was with them.
Do you know Tiger?
Yes.
He's dead mad, you know.
He's only known me five minutes,
he's inviting me to go abroad.
They're all going to the south of France,
slumming it.
You can't go, you've got exams.
Me exams are before the summer.
Well, y-you've got to, er,
wait for the results.
His real name's Tyson,
they call him Tiger.
Is there any point in going on with this?
Is there any point
in working towards an examination
if you're gonna fall in love
and set off to the south of France?
Fall in love? With who?
My God, Frank, I'm just talking
to some students down on the lawn.
Jesus, I've heard of matchmaking
but this is ridiculous.
Well, stop burbling on about Mr Tyson.
I'm not burbling on.
Well? What's me essay like?
It, er...
It wouldn't look out of place with these.
Honest?
Dead honest.
? Why are we waiting?
? Why are we waiting?
? Why are we waiting
? Oh why, oh why?
Poetry.
Literature.
What does it benefit a man...
if he gaineth the whole of literature
and loseth his soul?
No but seriously, folks,
there is something that I have always
wanted to ask you, and it is -
have you seen Peer Gynt
on the radio?
Er...
assonance.
Do you know... Do you know
what assonance means?
Eh? It means getting the rhyme wrong!
It's terrible, isn't it?
Terrible.
Taking the name of literature in vain,
it's like pissing on Wordsworth's tomb.
The difference between
the tragic and tragedy
is inevitability.
Come on, let's get him to his room.
Did you know that Macbeth
was a maggoty apple?
Not many people know that.
Dr Bryant, the Vice Chancellor feels,
and we all agree,
that this sort of thing
must never happen again
or the consequences could be serious.
Thank you.
Sod them, eh, Rita?
Sod them!
- Will they sack you?
- Good God, no.
That would involve making a decision.
Pissed is all right. To get the sack, it
would have to be rape on a grand scale.
And not just with students. That would
only amount to a slight misdemeanour.
No. For dismissal, it would have to be
nothing less than buggering the Bursar.
Frank, even if you don't
think about yourself,
- what about your students?
- What about them?
It's hardly fair if the lecturer's so pissed
he's falling off the platform.
I may have fallen off, my dear,
but I went down talking.
- Look, I'll see you next week, eh?
- We've got a tutorial.
You're not in any state
for a tutorial, Frank.
We'll talk about
me Blake essay next week.
Hello, Rita.
Oh. Hiya, Frank.
I'm sorry I never made your tutorial,
it's just we're dead busy here.
When you didn't arrive,
I telephoned the shop.
- Which shop?
- The hairdresser's,
where I thought you worked.
- I haven't worked there for ages.
- Yes, so it seems.
- You didn't tell me.
- Oh, didn't I?
I thought I had.
What's wrong?
Well, it struck me that there was a time
when you used to tell me everything.
I thought I had told you.
Do you think I could
have a drink, please? Seeing as I'm here.
Not for free, I'll pay.
Who cares if I've left hairdressing
to work in a bistro?
- I care.
- Why?
Why do you care?
- It's just boring, insignificant detail.
- Is it?
Yes. That's why
I couldn't stand hairdressing.
I don't wanna talk about
irrelevant rubbish any more.
What do you talk about
here in your bistro?
We talk about what's important, Frank,
and leave out the boring details
for those who want them.
Is Mr Tyson one of your customers?
Look, for your information,
I do find Tiger fascinating
like I find a lot of
those people fascinating.
They're young and-and passionate
about things that matter.
They're not trapped.
They're too young for that.
And I like being with them.
Well, perhaps you don't want
to waste your time
coming to my tutorials any more.
Frank, we've just been too busy here.
I haven't stopped coming altogether.
All right. Come this evening.
I can't. I'm meeting Trish soon,
we've got tickets for The Seagull.
Oh, yes, well, when Chekhov calls.
Oh, dear.
You really can't bear to spend a moment
with me now, can you?
Frank, that is not true.
It's just that tonight I've got
to go to the theatre.
As I was saying,
if you want to stop coming...
Oh, for Christ's sake, I don't wanna
stop coming! What about me exam?
Don't worry about that,
you'd sail through it.
You really don't have to put in the odd
appearance out of sentimentality.
I'd rather you spared me that.
If you could stop pouring that junk
down your throat
in the hope that it'll make you
feel like a poet,
you might be able to talk about
things that matter
instead of where I do and don't work.
And then it might actually
be worth turning up.
Are you capable of recognising
what does and does not matter?
I understand literary criticism and that's
what we're supposed to be dealing with.
Oh, literary criticism, eh?
Literary criticism.
Give me an essay on that lot
by next week.
An assessment of a lesser known
English poet.
Me.
Yes, yes, Morgan!
But it's the publishers I'm worried about.
Frank...
Brian was just passing,
he dropped in to make a phone call.
Yes, yes,
I think you know why, Morgan.
We can't go on like this,
things are getting ridiculous.
The advance that they offered
was, as usual, inadequate.
Brian.
- I am an academic author of repute...
- Brian, I haven't paid the bill.
Hang on, Morgan,
Frank's trying to tell me something.
They disconnected us
this morning.
Morgan, fuck off.
- Frank...
- Yes, O faithful one?
For God's sake! How could anyone
be faithful to you, Frank?
Julia has at least tried
and what has she had in return?
What have any of us had
in return, Frank?
Only my soul, Brian,
which I must confess is very little.
Frank, I'm leaving you. Brian and I are...
Brian is leaving Elaine, and we're going.
Congratulations, Brian.
Better luck next time, eh, Julia?
Hello, Frank!
What the hell are you doing here?
Where've you been, Frank?
I've been up to your room a few times.
I went to see Julia,
she said I'd find you here.
She's nice, Julia, isn't she?
Are you sober?
If you mean am I still this side
of reasonable comprehension then yes.
Good, because I want you to hear this.
This is brilliant. You have got
to start writing again, Frank.
It is brilliant.
It's... It's witty, it's profound.
Full of style.
Oh! Tell me again and again.
No, Frank, it's not just me that thinks so.
Me and Trish read them and she agrees.
Why did you stop writing
when you can produce work like that?
Now, what did Trish say? Yes -
it's more resonant
than purely contemporary poetry.
It has, like, it has in it a direct line
through to the 19th-century traditions
of, like, wit and classical allusion.
Oh. That's marvellous, Rita.
It's fortunate that I never
gave this to you earlier.
Just think if you'd have seen this
when you first came.
Oh, well, I'd have never understood it.
You would've thrown it across the room
and dismissed it as total shit.
I know, but I could never
have understood it then
because I wouldn't have recognised
or understood the allusions.
I've done a fine job on you, haven't I?
It's true, Frank. I mean, I can see it now.
You know, Rita, like you,
I'm going to change my name.
From now on I am going to insist
on being called Mary.
Mary Shelley.
Do you understand that allusion, Rita?
What?
Mary Shelley wrote a little Gothic number
called Frankenstein.
So?
This clever, pyrotechnical pile
of self-conscious allusion...
is worthless, talentless shit.
There is more poetry
in the... telephone directory
and probably more insight.
However...
this has one advantage
over the telephone directory.
It is easier to rip.
It is pretentious, characterless
and without style.
It's not.
Oh, I don't expect you to believe me.
You recognise the hallmark
of literature now, don't you?
Why don't you just go away?
I don't think I can bear it any longer.
Oh. Can't bear what, Frank?
You, my dear.
You.
Yeah.
Yeah. Well, er...
I'll tell you what you can't bear,
Mr Self-Pitying Piss Artist,
what you can't bear
is that I'm educated now.
I've got what you have
and you don't like it.
I mean, good God, I don't need you.
I've got a room full of books!
I know what wine to buy,
what clothes to wear, what plays to see,
what papers to read,
and I can do it without you.
Is that all you wanted? Have you come
all this way for so very, very little?
Oh, yeah, it's little to you, isn't it, Frank?
Little to you who squanders
every opportunity
and mocks and takes it for granted.
Found a culture, have you, Rita?
Found a better song to sing?
No.
You found a different song to sing.
And, on your lips,
it is shrill and hollow and tuneless.
Oh, Rita, Rita, Rita.
Ohhhh, Rita!
Nobody calls me Rita but you.
I dropped that pretentious crap
as soon as I saw it for what it was.
Nobody calls me Rita.
What is it now, then, eh?
Emily or Charlotte or Jane or Virginia?
Trish!
Trish!
Come on, we're gonna be late!
Trish?
Trish!
God.
Ambulance, quick.
- Hello, Dr Bryant.
- Hello, Mr Tyson.
Hello, Doctor.
Oh! A table for one, please.
Sorry, we're full.
- Oh. I'll have a drink at the bar.
- You've had enough.
- I haven't.
- You have.
- I wanna talk to Rita.
- Never heard of her.
- She works here.
- You must have the wrong place.
- I'm telling you, Rita works here.
- Come on, out.
- No.
- Yes.
- Hello, Dr Bryant. What's wrong?
- He's pissed.
- Mr Tyson, where's Rita?
- I told you...
It's all right.
- Have you seen Rita? She works here.
- You mean Susan?
Oh, yes, I suppose I do.
She hasn't been in this evening.
I forgot to remind her
that her exam is tomorrow.
She might be up at the Flamingo.
Oh. Well, thank you, Mr Tyson.
- Don't you think you're a bit...
- If you see her, will you tell her it's 9am?
- Yeah.
- Thank you.
Thank you.
Why?
Darling, why not?
Oh, Trish, don't. Come on, it's all right,
don't cry. You're still here.
That's why I'm crying -
it didn't work.
It didn't bloody work.
Trish.
Look, you didn't really mean
to kill yourself.
- You were just...
- Just what, darling?
Poor Susan.
You think I've got everything, don't you?
Trish, you have.
Oh, yes.
When I listen to poetry and music...
then I can live.
You see, darling, the rest of the time,
it's just me.
That's not enough.
Whoo!
Hey!
Do you know a girl called Rita?
Forget Rita, I don't wanna
see you drinking.
Dr Bryant, what are you doing here?
- Lesley, have you seen Rita?
- What?
- Have you seen Rita?
- Come and dance!
- No, I can't!
- Come on!
I can't dance! I can't! No!
Bursar!
Wake up, Bursar!
Come on, man!
Ah!
Bursar! Join me for a drink.
Dr Bryant!
- Go to bed.
- Right.
I will.
Good night, Bursar.
Susan! Where are you going?
- For a walk.
- Do you want a lift? Come on.
- No, it's all right, I'd rather walk.
- You missed a great party.
Yeah, well. I'll see ya.
- I saw your tutor.
- What?
Your exam's this morning.
Oh.
Don't forget you're coming to France.
Susan!
Oh, hiya, Denny.
- Oh, this is Barbara.
- Hello.
- Susan.
- How are ya?
- OK.
- When's it due?
- I've got another three months now.
- It's gonna be a boy.
- I hear you're doing well at the college.
- Well, you know.
I hardly recognised you,
you look the part.
Doesn't she, eh? Look the real student.
Be on drugs and demonstrations next!
Right, well, we gotta go. Going down
to the hospital for the checkup.
- I always go with her.
- It's good to see you, Denny.
Take care of yourself.
And look after them two.
Oh, he does, you know, he's very good.
- Ta-ra.
- See ya.
At 9am precisely,
I shall instruct you to turn over
your examination papers
and the examination will have begun.
You have three hours.
You may not talk to anyone.
It is now nine o'clock. Please commence.
Have they sacked you?
- Not quite.
- Oh.
Well, why are you
packing your books up?
I made rather a night of it last night
so they're giving me a holiday.
Two years in Australia.
Did you bugger the Bursar?
- Metaphorically.
- What are you gonna do?
What do you think?
Australia is a paradise for the likes of me.
Christ's sakes,
why did you come back here?
I came to tell you you're a good teacher.
Oh!
Thanks for entering me for the exam.
That's all right.
I know what it had come to mean to you.
You didn't want me to take it, did you?
I nearly didn't. I sat there for ages.
I sat there thinking
while everyone was scribbling away,
thinking about what you said,
about what you'd done for me.
- What I've done for you...
- Shut up.
I'm doing the talking. Frank, that's what's
wrong with you - you talk too much!
You think you did nothing for me,
you think I just ended up
with a load of quotes and empty phrases.
Well, all right, I did
but that wasn't your doing.
I was too hungry for it all.
I didn't question anything.
I wanted it all too much
so I wouldn't let it be questioned.
Told you I was stupid.
- You're not stupid.
- If I say I'm stupid then I'm stupid, OK?
So don't argue.
I mean...
It's like Trish. You know?
I thought she was so cool and together.
I got home last night,
she'd tried to top herself.
Yeah. Magic, isn't it?
Spent half her life eating health food
and wholefood to live longer
and the other half trying to kill herself.
So I was thinking about it all
when I should've been doing my exam.
Do you know what
the first question was?
"Suggest ways in which one might deal
"with some of the staging difficulties
in a production of Ibsen's Peer Gynt. "
- And you wrote, "Do it on the radio"?
- No, I could've done.
You'd have been dead proud of me
if I'd done that, wouldn't you?
But I chose not to.
I had a choice. I did the exam.
Because of what you'd given me,
I had a choice.
Anyway...
that's what I wanted to come back
and tell you. You're a good teacher.
I hear good things about Australia.
Everything out there is just beginning.
The thing is...
why don't you come as well?
It would be good to leave a country
that's finishing for one that's beginning.
God, Frank, if you could get threepence
back on those bottles
you could buy Australia.
- You're being evasive.
- I know.
Tiger's asked me to go to France
with his mob.
- Will you go?
- I dunno.
He's a bit of a wanker, really.
But I've never been abroad.
I've been offered a job
in London, as well.
- What are you going to do?
- I dunno.
I might go to France,
I might go to London.
Or just stay here
and carry on with me studies.
I might even stay here and have a baby.
I don't know.
I'll make a decision.
I'll choose. I dunno.
Well, whatever you do,
you might as well take this with you.
- What is it?
- It's a dress, really.
I bought it for an educated
woman friend of mine.
It may not fit,
I was rather pissed when I bought it.
An educated woman? What kind
of education were you giving her?
In choosing it, I concentrated
on the word "woman"
- rather than on the word "educated".
- Thank you.
All I've ever done is take from you.
I've never given you anything.
There is something I can really give you.
Oh?
Sit down.
I said sit.
I'm gonna take ten years off you.
'This is the final call
for PA-167.
'This flight connects at Heathrow
'for Qantas flight 351
'to Sydney, Australia. '
Frank, come on! Where've you been?
It's taking off in a minute.
Your result arrived this morning,
I went to pick it up.
- The gate's about to close.
- Just coming.
Frank, we haven't got time.
What does it say?
Right, I've passed.
Now, will you get on that bloody plane?
Let me see.
You passed with distinction.
I'm proud of you, Rita.
I'm proud of both of us.
- Sir, you'll miss your flight.
- Yeah, OK.
- Frank.
- What?
Thanks.