Late Night Story (1978) s01e01 Episode Script

When he stuck them sideways out of the bed, his legs felt as if they were doing a new thing, something they didn't understand.
''Dress quickly now,'' said Mama.
''It's easy to catch cold after being so long in bed.
''I shall call your sister to help you.
'' It was hard to keep upright.
His legs were still sore in the places where they bent, his arms, too, when he held them up to go through the sleeves.
''Feel funny?'' said his sister Gladys.
''Hold onto the bedpost while I fasten these buttons.
''Why, Raymond, I do believe you've grown taller in bed, dear.
'' He saw a face low down in the great wardrobe mirror.
For a moment, everything in him stopped.
A terrible, thin face, with perfectly round, shiny eyes, shadows you could almost see through that belonged to a thing, not a person.
Dull, dull tangled hair.
''Well, how do you look?'' said Gladys.
She was putting a kind of jolliness into her voice.
Her head came down beside his to see, and she was healthy, different only in the way all people looked in mirrors.
Mama brought out his green suit with the white, curly collar and laid it on the bed.
He watched little creases being smoothed from its special cloth.
''Is it Sunday?'' he said.
Lines folded deeper in Mama's face, her bright eyes fixed on his so hard that he felt guilty and blinked several times.
''No,'' she said in a low voice.
''But you're to wear it today.
''I'm taking you to have your photograph made.
'' Gladys squeezed him.
''The doctor says you're a lot better now, Raymond.
''Won't it be nice?'' He clutched her warm arm.
Sideways through Gladys' hair, he could see Mama standing still, watching.
''Silly, silly little boy.
He's frightened,'' said Gladys.
''I had it done last year, you know that, ''and Mama has, everybody has.
Dear, funny boy.
'' She brushed his hair till it was smooth and cut off some little pieces and put them in an envelope.
''Glad,'' he said.
''What are you crying for?'' But instead of answering, she began to dab his face gently with a puff of her own powder.
It was cold downstairs.
Everything felt hard and big, and the linoleum looked like frozen water.
''Button his overcoat up,'' said Mama.
''Stay quietly in that chair, Raymond, until the cab comes.
Close to the fire.
'' The yellow tiled grate turned onto him an unfamiliar, quivering heat that made him blink often.
Soon, the little pains in his knees died out.
He was damp and hot inside his clothes.
''You must behave well,'' said Mama.
''Do exactly as the gentleman directs.
''Keep very still for him, that's the most important ''Are you warm?'' ''The cab,'' Gladys called.
''It's here.
'' She came into the room.
''Oh, how much better he looks.
''He'll be sorry to leave such a nice fire, won't you, Raymond?'' They got into the cab.
There was a strange smell of its leatheriness, and some kind of scent and pipe smoke were in the thick, blue cloth of the seat and the padded walls.
He sat between Mama and Gladys, and watched the tall roofs stream past the window.
''Isn't it fun?'' said Gladys.
''Listen to the horse's feet trotting as fast as he can go ''and all especially for this little boy.
'' When they climbed down the cab's iron steps, it was in a street with shops and high buildings.
Mama stopped to talk to the driver.
''Come along,'' said Gladys.
''Up we go! Let me help you, old Mr Shaky-Legs.
'' There were many stairs inside the building.
Whenever they stopped, they saw more leading upwards.
''Must be growing while we climb them,'' Gladys panted.
She had both arms tightly round him, almost carrying him.
From below, Mama was calling softly and crossly, ''Gladys! Wait a moment, if you please.
We must all go in together.
'' They came to the last of the stairs and there was a door that was partly made of glass with printed letters on it.
''Come,'' said Mama.
The man inside wore black clothes.
There was no hair on his head and he had yellow eyes that moved in a sort of liquid.
He said, ''So this is the little man.
A bright chap.
''In no time, you'll be as fit as a fiddle, hmm?'' He held a hand out to Raymond.
The fingers were dark brown and some of the nails had split until you could see into the cracks.
''Shake hands with the gentleman, Raymond,'' said Mama.
He could do nothing.
''Not all together surprising,'' said the man.
''Hmm?'' And made a noise like a laugh but he wasn't pleased.
''Chemicals ruin the hands, madam.
''Sit down in this nice chair, little man.
'' He began to talk to Mama in a whisper, glancing sideways.
The room was very big with wide windows in the ceiling, but they were painted streaky white and no sky showed through them.
Tall, shining things made of wood and glass and yellow metal stood everywhere.
''Now, let us begin.
''The little fellow's overcoat off, please, madam.
'' Then Raymond was on a different chair.
His legs hung down from the huge, leather seat.
The man picked up his hand and pressed it onto the chair's cold, knobbed arm as if it belonged there.
A polished table stood close by.
On it were a book made of leather and a shiny plant like Mama's.
''Genuine antiques,'' the man was saying to Mama.
''The floral background is hand-painted in oils.
'' ''Tidy his hair, Gladys,'' whispered Mama.
A burning brightness came high up.
His eyes itched and watered.
The man said, ''Don't look at the lights, little fellow,'' and moved metal things that clicked under a black cloth.
Raymond shivered.
He seemed to be in another place, feeling nothing, like being asleep and not dreaming.
He could hear Gladys blowing her nose somewhere behind the brightness.
''Ah, yes,'' said the man, busy jerking things in the dark.
''Doesn't he look a picture?'' (CLEARING THROAT) He cleared his throat.
''Steady now, still as a mouse.
''See what I've got in my hand?'' And as if he were singing a little song, ''Keep quite, quite, quite still.
'' ''Clack'' went his machine.
''Now again.
'' When the lights went out at last, everything broke into spots of purple darkness.
''This very evening, madam,'' the man was saying.
On one hand he had a glove with a head like a monkey.
''Without fail, in the circumstances.
'' His voice had a secret in it.
''I'm so very sorry.
'' On the way downstairs, Raymond sneezed.
He lay quietly in bed.
When he moved, all the old pains jumped in his arms and legs, worse than weeks ago.
His nose was running.
For a time, the sun made slow, reddish squares on the wallpaper, then it disappeared.
His heart began to hurry, bumping until it hurt.
The bed seemed to shake.
A tiny, ticking noise began somewhere down among the springs, keeping time with his heart.
The door opened.
It was Gladys again.
''How now, dear?'' she said and put her cheek against his forehead.
''The shivering stopped and now he's too hot.
''Poor, little, sick Raymond.
'' She sat on the bed.
''I've got a surprise for you,'' she said.
''Lie very still and I'll show you.
''It's just this moment arrived.
Look!'' She held something up high above his chest.
A reddish-brown picture.
He knew the table in it, the huge chair, the book, the shiny plant from some time in the past.
There, too, was that terrible face.
After a moment, he turned to her.
She smiled and nodded.
''It's the photograph, darling, isn't it nice?'' He twisted his head away and his neck ached.
Tears came out of his eyes.
He felt angry and frightened, as if he had lost part of himself.
Gladys was tightening the bedclothes round him.
''Poor dear.
Does it hurt to look up? ''I'll put the photo here on the mantelpiece ''and light the candle so that you can see it all the time.
''We're going to have another big one in a frame to hang downstairs.
''Mama is so pleased and'' Her voice turned down and trembled.
Suddenly, he felt himself held tightly.
''Raymond.
'' Gladys was crying again, and a tear ran down the inside of his collar.
''Oh, my little'' And she squeezed him until he gasped, then she ran out of the room and the door thudded.
He felt cold and small.
Then in the same instant, he was enormous.
His head stretched from the pillow until it touched the walls.
His huge hands were pressing down through the bed to the floor.
From far below came the ringing click of the bedspring, like distant hoof beats.
On the mantelpiece was the little, brown picture-child.
His face was white and horrible and still.
He clung to his chair and stared at Raymond.
The candle was too bright to look at it.
When it flickered, the whole room bobbed.
Waves of fright rushed over him up through the bed.
His ears were bursting with the noise.
''Keep still,'' said something inside him.
''Keep quite, quite, quite still.
'' His head was changing its shape because it was so heavy and the beating, bubbling heart climbed up to meet it.
''Keep quite, quite, quite still,'' said a voice.
It sounded like his own, but this time it wasn't inside his head, it was outside, close to his ear.
He twisted himself through the hot clothes, crying because it hurt and looked.
He nearly screamed with terror.
By the bed stood the picture-child, alive.
In the green suit, but now it was reddish-brown.
His face was the narrow, photograph face like a hollow china thing.
''Still,'' said the boy.
''Keep quite, quite, quite still, little man.
'' He put out a hand and laid it on the rumpled sheet.
Brown fingers and the nails were split wide open.
''Your heart's going to burst,'' he said.
The whole of the bedroom roared and crackled, yet at the same time, it was utterly quiet.
The boy smiled.
Little, bony teeth.
''I'm going to have your tops,'' he said.
''The new ones, too.
'' The bedspring kept time like a great bell.
''And in this bed will be me, ''just keep quite, quite still.
''You won't be anything at all.
''Feel it bursting?'' Downstairs, they were arguing.
''Crass folly!'' She twisted a handkerchief in her fingers and tried to hold her lips firm, but they trembled.
''Kindly remember, Doctor, that I am the child's mother.
''I wanted this memory of him ''to keep more than anything you could ever understand.
'' ''Nonsense, madam,'' said the doctor.
''Think I wouldn't have told you if he was dying? ''But now I can't answer for what you may have done today.
''Let me see him at once.
'' Halfway up the first flight of stairs, they heard the cries in his bedroom and ran the rest of the way.
The doctor threw the door open.
''Raymond!'' He was crouching near the window in his nightshirt.
But over it he had pulled the jacket of his best green suit.
The trousers were clasped to his chest.
His eyes were bright with delirium, staring towards the bed.
''I won't! I won't be still!'' The screaming went on, hoarse and terrified.
He didn't seem to see them.
From the window ledge, he snatched a picture book and held it tightly.
''I won't! No! No! I won't go on the mantelpiece!''