Withnail & I 2: Beer and Loving in Penrith (5) (Part 2)

(continued from 5 Pt. 1 - Withnail and Marwood are at Edwina's...

 

EDWINA (CONT’D, to MARWOOD)

Dornford tells me you’re an actor, too. (glances at WITHNAIL) Alright if call you Dornford?

WITHNAIL

Of course. I don’t suppose there are many who remember Douglas now.

MARWOOD

I’ve had some moments. Mainly in the theatre. Some minor TV roles. I’ve never quite matched up to… Dornford’s achievements.

EDWINA

Yes, you have had a bit of the limelight, haven’t you.

WITHNAIL

If that’s what you want to call it.

EDWINA

It was more than many get.

MARWOOD

That’s what I was telling him.

WITHNAIL

Yes, alright. Point taken.

EDWINA

Of course, we’re all actors in our own ways, aren’t we. ‘All the world’s a stage’ and all that. We all have our exits and entrances. We all play many parts. Dear father had to play one for many years. Against his will, I might add. Thankfully, we live in more enlightened times.

MARWOOD

What about you, Edwina? What do you do?

EDWINA

Do? A bit of freelance book editing and criticism. I’m lucky enough to be able to pick and choose. I taught for a while as a post-doc, but it was never the life for me. Academia is as bad as anywhere else. Like any corporate boardroom. All after each others’ throats and arses. And students, too, but we won’t go there.

MARWOOD

What did you teach?

EDWINA

Literature. Postmodernism was my main area.

MARWOOD (ENTHUSED)

Oh, really.

WITHNAIL

I don’t think I’ve ever quite figured out what that means.

MARWOOD

Sort of overturning conventional ideas of meaning and form. Challenging commonly-accepted truths and versions of reality. Breaking down of boundaries between things.(suddenly self-conscious) Something like that, anyway.

EDWINA (DELIGHTEDLY)

In a nutshell, that’s it. Or out of a nutshell, even.

WITHNAIL

Christ! We’ve got a walking encyclopedia. Where did you school now?

MARWOOD

It took a bit of an interest in it for a while. Read a few writers. Wrote some stuff myself.

EDWINA (ENTHUSED)

Really? Oh, you write as well, do you? Had anything published?

MARWOOD

Bits and pieces. Mainly short fiction. A couple of stage plays that never got beyond a local theatre. And one novel - now out of print.

EDWINA (to WITHNAIL)

You didn’t say he was a man of so many talents.

MARWOOD

I don’t know about that, really. Like the acting, it’s never set the world on fire.

EDWINA

My dear, one doesn’t have to be a pyromaniac to get a decent blaze going. You can still keep warm that way, you know.

MARWOOD

That’s a generous way to put it, Edwina.

EDWINA

So, what was this novel called?

MARWOOD

Erm… ‘Adam’s Uterus’. Kind of a multiverse idea going on. I’ve got several important figures from history, but all with the opposite sex. Christ is a woman and so on. Frederica the Great. That was the general idea of it. Hardly surprising it didn’t catch on, really.

EDWINA

But it was published, which is the main thing.

MARWOOD

Only a small print run. Mostly remaindered.

EDWINA

That’s not the point. And I can tell you, it sounds right up my street. I shall most certainly look it up next time I’m in the British Library.

MARWOOD

Honestly, you’ll probably be disappointed. (chuckling) It paid for a few gas bottles, but that was about it.

EDWINA

Ah, that’s the eternal problem, isn’t it. It all comes down to dirty old lucre in the end. Even art. Maybe especially art. It’s not what you do or what talent you have, it’s how much it makes you. Sole judgment of success nowadays. Art becomes art not on merit, but on the amount someone’s prepared to pay for it. It’s all a fix. Some artists graft all their lives, produce works of lasting genius and die penniless. Your namesake, for instance. Dear old Vincent. Others just exhibit their dirty bed linen or two dead farm animals fucking and become multi-millionaires. You can guess with which lot my sympathies lie.

MARWOOD

Me, too.

EDWINA nods at him, smiling.

WITHNAIL

I’m acutely aware that my ‘art’ puts me in the other category, of course.

EDWINA

I didn’t mean that at all, Dornford. Your work has its artistic merit, and you worked hard for it. It didn’t come easy. Not like with these Philistines.

WITHNAIL (to MARWOOD)

You’ll have noticed that cynicism runs in the family, at least.

EDWINA

Cynicism, my dear, is one of the true markers of a robust morality. Without it, we’re just like the rest of the farm animals. Especially those in woolly clothing.

EDWINA and MARWOOD glance at each other briefly and smile.

MARWOOD

Bien dit!

EDWINA

Bien sur!

WITHNAIL

Hm. Mind if I smoke, Edwina.

EDWINA

Not in the least. I’ll join you. Have one of mine.

EDWINA takes out her packet of Balkan Sobranie Colours. WITHNAIL takes one. She offers one to MARWOOD too, who also takes one. They light up.

MARWOOD

Thanks. Not had one of these for a few years. I keep quitting, on and off.

EDWINA

Me, too. But then I think ‘Bollocks to it!’ If it carries me off, it does. It’s like Oscar Wilde said, a cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves me unsatisfied. (puffs thoughtfully) Bit like an orgasm, I’ve always thought.

MARWOOD coughs.

MARWOOD

Sorry. Went down the wrong way. I mean… stronger than I remember them.

WITHNAIL

Lasts a bit longer, at least. Doesn’t have the same bloody repercussions. They’ve banned indoor smoking in the States. It’ll come here too, you’ll see. Bloody health Nazis. God, can you imagine it? A London boozer without smoke. Makes you want to jump off a bridge.

EDWINA

The old order changeth, as father was so fond of saying, bless his heart. The only immutable is that everything is mutable. I mean, look at we three. Same people we were when we were ripped out screaming into this ghastly fucking world. Yet different, too, in our own distinct ways.

EDWINA and WITHNAIL exchange a conspiratorial glance.

EDWINA (CONT’D)

Some less obvious than others.

WITHNAIL (SMILING)

Quite.

MARWOOD

Some things don’t change, though. This room, for instance. We were saying earlier. Last time I was here was thirty years ago. Might as well have been yesterday.

WITHNAIL

Except fewer vegetables.

MARWOOD (CHUCKLING)

Speak for yourself. Tempus fugit a bit bloody quickly now for my liking.

EDWINA

Come on, my dear. We’re none of us so old but that the saying of it makes us so.

WITHNAIL

How old are you now, Edwina?

EDWINA

I shall overcome my natural reaction to the impropriety of such a question and say that I’m certainly over forty. A considerable way behind yourself, if I may say. What are you now? Seventy-ish?

WITHNAIL

Bloody cheek! I’m still in my fifties.

MARWOOD

Sixty next week you told me.

WITHNAIL

Thanks for that! Like I said… still in my fifties.

EDWINA

Sixty next week, eh? Then you must have a party.

WITHNAIL

Sod that! It’s not something I feel like celebrating, thanks very much.

EDWINA

Oh, don’t be such a crab. You must have a party for such a big milestone. I insist.

WITHNAIL

Not so much of the ‘big’. Anyway, who would I invite? I wouldn’t want anyone over there coming. Not that they would, anyway.

EDWINA

Then have it here.

WITHNAIL

Here?

MARWOOD

Yeah, why not? Danny could supply the treats.

WITHNAIL

Now you are joking.

EDWINA

Who is this Danny?

MARWOOD

Someone of mutual acquaintance. From back in the day. Good man to know for a party.

WITHNAIL

A supplier of rare herbs and assorted chemicals. And that would go down very well, wouldn’t it. I can see it now. My sixtieth birthday busted by the Met. Fine way to end my career.

MARWOOD

Then have it at Crow Crag. Isolated enough. Imagine it.

WITHNAIL

My imagination isn’t quite that lurid.

EDWINA

I think that’s a splendid idea. What better place? All that wide open space and fresh air. No neighbours to worry about. (pause) And anyway… speaking of Crow Crag. (gets up) I believe I have something you’re here to collect. I shall go and see if I can find it. Hopefully, it’s where father always kept it. Do excuse me. And help yourselves to more coffee and cigarettes.

EDWINA goes out.

WITHNAIL and MARWOOD sit in silence for a few moments, smoking. WITHNAIL takes out his flask again and takes another swig.

WITHNAIL

Bloody party. Last one I had cost me a tax payment. That was just the building repairs and draining the pool. That was when everyone wanted to know me, too. God knows what would happen if I let that old shag-bag get involved. Probably just end up with a fucking crater on the hillside.

MARWOOD

Like I said, he’s a bit of a reformed character now. He still has some good stuff in his toolbox, though. And it would be good to do something. Housewarming, even.

WITHNAIL

Knowing that place, it’ll need it.

WITHNAIL lights another Balkan Sobranie, then puts a couple in his inside pocket.

WITHNAIL (CONT’D)

Do you want any more?

MARWOOD

No thanks.

Pause.

MARWOOD

When did you say you’re going up there?

WITHNAIL

End of the week. There’s a couple of things I want to do in London first. Have you thought any more about it?

MARWOOD

Hm. I am owed a bit of leave. Short notice, but tough. Perhaps I’ll tell them my uncle’s died or something.

WITHNAIL (ENTHUSED)

Splendid! Good man! I’ll pick up a few supplies.

MARWOOD

How are you going to get there?

WITHNAIL

Drive up. I’ll rent a car. We can go up together.

MARWOOD

I’ve got an old Fiesta. Not sure it would make it that far, though. It’s a bit like me. Past its best.

WITHNAIL

Can’t be any worse than that old Jag we had. No… we’ll take uncertainty out of the equation. I’ll get something. Make it an occasion.

EDWINA comes back in with the key and hands it to WITHNAIL.

EDWINA

I was right. Where he always kept it. Plastic bag in the toilet cistern. Now you’ve got the key of the door!

WITHNAIL

Thanks, Edwina.  We’re both going up. Sort the place out a bit.

EDWINA

Oh, splendid. The lawyers will sort out the deeds and things. Can’t think there would be any problems with your using the place in the meantime.

WITHNAIL

Right. Do you know if he did anything much up there?

EDWINA

Not a clue, I’m afraid. He never said much about it. I haven’t seen the place for years.

MARWOOD looks at his watch.

MARWOOD

I need to be making a move soon.

EDWINA

Must you? Why don’t you stop over? There’s plenty of spare rooms here.  I’m sure I could make one comfortable for you.

WITHNAIL grins at MARWOOD.

MARWOOD

That’s very kind of you, Edwina. But I need to get back. I’m on an early shift tomorrow.

EDWINA

Shift? Doing what?

MARWOOD

Erm… stacking shelves, actually.

EDWINA

Stacking shelves? My God! How awful for you. There’s no justice in this world.

MARWOOD

Yeah, well. It keeps me in touch with reality. Pays the bills. Can’t rely on acting and writing for that.

WITHNAIL

Actually, I need to get a shift on, too. Calls to make.

EDWINA picks up the cake knife and holds it mock-menacingly.

EDWINA

So, you’re all going to desert me, eh? Well, I’m sure you can both manage just one more piece of cake before you go. Otherwise, I’ll end up pigging myself out on the rest of it. I need to keep an eye on my figure these days. (with emphasis) Nobody else seems to.

WITHNAIL raises his eyebrows at MARWOOD. EDWINA cuts into the cake.

FADE OUT.

 

(to be continued...)