THE PLOUGHMAN'S LUNCH
An original screenplay by
Ian McEwan
Post Production Draft, 1985
FADE IN:
INT. BBC RADIO NEWSROOM - LATE MORNING
We are IN CLOSE as a story arrives on a press service
teleprinter. A Hand tears away the sheet. The CAMERA
TRACKS as we follow the story. It passes through the
copytaster's hands and it passes on down to the summaries
desk.
This is a time of steady activity. Journalists move about
the room to consult. Others are writing in longhand, and
several are dictating copy to typists, who are all women.
One or two people - NEWSREADERS - sit about doing nothing.
Much movement of paper.
Over the sound of typewriters and the murmur of dictating
voices we HEAR a WOMAN'S VOICE over the P.A. Announce,
"The Leader of the Opposition on five". A few journalists
pick up their headsets, but they do not stop writing. We
establish the atmosphere - laconic but efficient, and a
little down-at-heel.
At the summaries desk we find JAMES PENFIELD. He stands
to the side of a little behind a seated secretary, dictating
in a laconic deadpan voice from a sheet of scrawled
longhand.
JAMES
Between fifty and sixty scrap metal
workers are..
The phone rings. James snatches it and answers without
breaking stride.
JAMES
Hello. Newsroom.
The secretary waits, her face totally inexpressive.
JAMES
Who? Paul Dean? He doesn't work
here anymore.
ANOTHER JOURNALIST
(calling over his
shoulder as he
passes)
Went to IRN.
JAMES
No. No. Sorry. Try IRN.
He drops the receiver and continues. The secretary
reactivates.
JAMES
..reported to have landed illegally
on the island of South Georgia in
the South Atlantic.
The Foreign Office reacted sceptically to reports that
Argentine Government was planning..
INT. NEWSROOM - LATE MORNING
James and a newsreader (one of those we saw earlier doing
nothing) stand together by the photocopier. Walking with
controlled haste and carrying the news sheets, they head
towards the studio. A clock behind them shows two minutes
to twelve.
INT. STUDIO - LATE MORNING
James and the newsreader sit at a table in the studio,
fairly close together. The newsreader settles himself
behind the microphone. James sits back, professionally
bored, rolling a stub of a pencil between his fingers.
Through a large loudspeaker we hear a Radio 4 programme
winding up. Theme music.
The newsreader has a plummy authoritative voice and is a
year or two younger than James. He stares down at the
news sheet.
From the Control Room a woman announces "One Minute".
JAMES
How's Mary?
NEWSREADER
(stung then
recovering)
Oh, she's well. Jolly well.
Thanks. Very well indeed.
From the Studio Controller's POV we SEE the Newsroom behind
James and the newsreader, who chat soundlessly.
MOMEN'S VOICE
Before the news at twelve o'clock,
there's just time to tell you about
Woman's Hour this afternoon.
Commander Freddy Bracknell will be
talking about his four years as a
German POW in Stalag Three, and
mountaineer John Clayton will be
reliving the thrills and perils of
Everest. Also, Polly Morrell will
be finding out from the historian
Prefessor John Gerty how the
governments of Eastern Europe
distort their recent past in history
books to suit their present policies
and allegiances. That's Freddy
Bracknell, John Clayton and John
Gerty, all on Woman's Hour just
after two o'clock this afternoon
The six pips. The sweep hand of
the clock. The red light.
NEWSREADER
BBC News at twelve o'clock. There
is cautious optimism in Brussels
that formula may be reached to
break--
EXT. BRIXTON - LATE AFTERNOON
James hurries home through the din of rush hour Brixton.
INT. JAMES' FLAT - LATE AFTERNOON
James' flat is one floor of a large Victorian house. The
decent-sized rooms knocked together make a very large
bedsitting room. Bare boards, junk furniture, but elegant.
Heavy stereo stack, a lot of records, a lot of paperbacks.
In high spirits, James prepares to go out. He chooses a
shirt, begins to undress. The TV is on.
INT. JAMES' FLAT - NIGHT
An hour later. James is dressed to go out. The big room
is now in darkness except for the light by James' armchair.
He is talking on the phone to his friend Jeremy Hancock.
JAMES
C'mon, you promised...tell her
you've got to finish a piece...I
know...I know, but it's my big
night...yes she's going to be
there...C'mon! All I want you to
do is introduce me to her. And
remember, build me up...good man.
INT. PUBLISHING HOUSE - NIGHT
A high-ceilinged room in a publishing house, Bloomsbury.
A launch party. About forty guests. Waiters take round
trays with glasses of wine. By some large double doors is
a display of school textbooks. Most prominently featured
is the book being launched today - Goldbooks Schools Series
No. 5 The Cold War, edited by Prefessor J. Gerty.
James is led by a PERSONAL ASSISTANT through the crowd to
meet GOLD, who is surrounded by ATTENTIVE YOUNG MEN.
GOLD
.....took him by the elbow, steered
him into a quiet corner and said
"Where do you think you are, young
man? Fabers?"
From the circle of polite laughter, Gold extends his hand
towards James.
GOLD
Glad you could come.
PERSONAL ASSIATANT
James Penfield.
GOLD
Good, good. Now is someone getting
you a drink.
PERSONAL ASSIATANT
Wrote the Berlin Airlift chapter.
Job done, P.A. fades.
GOLD
I know, I know! Gentlemen, let me
introduce you to one of our most
talented contributors to The Cold
War. James Penfield. He wrote
the opening chapter, on 'The Berlin
Airlift'. One of the best chapters
in the book.
JAMES
Hello.
GOLD
I won't introduce you all by name.
Basically James, this is our UK
sales team. What was I saying?
Yes, these graduate trainees...
Twenty minutes later. JEREMY has just come in and is
surveying the room from the doorway. He takes a drink
from a tray, notices James across the room and smiles
ruefully.
Jeremy Hancock is a journalist, same age as James, good-
looking and well-dressed. A fairly corrupt look about
him, despite this. He is intelligent and intensely self-
regarding.
James makes his way through the crowd towards Jeremy.
They stand on the doorway - a position which affords them
a good view of the guests in the room and those guests who
are still arriving by way of a grand and ornate stairway.
JEREMY
My dear James.
With mock solemnity, he kisses James on the cheek.
JAMES
Not here.
JEREMY
To the airlift.
JAMES
To the airlift.
JEREMY
Any sign of the goddess Barrington?
JAMES
Not yet you know any of these
people?
JEREMY
One or two. A grey lot. Some
social democrats. Some diligent
anti-communists. A political
section man from the US Embassy.
And this exquisite Californian
wine, courtesy of the CIA.
JAMES
Nonsense.
They look across the room at Gold being listened to.
JERMEY
By the way, I hear that your Mr.
Gold is about to become very rich.
I hope you told him that most of
the ideas in your Berlin airlift
chapter came from me.
JAMES
Fuck off.
SUSAN (O.S.)
So it's all worked out perfectly...
JAMES
That's her.
The two men go to the head of the stairs to watch SUSAN
come up.
SUSAN
She get's the house, he get's the
cars. And the baby is still in
Switzerland with the Au pair.
SUSAN BARRINGTON is in her late twenties. Flamboyant,
effortlessly confident, she inhibits that special world -
with its different rules - of the truly ambitious. James
fascination owes as much to the certainties of her class
as to her looks.
An attractive young man accompanies her up the stairs.
Jeremy makes a sound. Susan Glances up.
SUSAN
Jeremy!
She waves and her elbow catches a tray of champagne being
carried downstairs. Glasses fall about her feet. While
apologising, Susan does not take her eyes off Jeremy.
SUSAN
How Stupid! I am sorry.
The butler and the young man drop to the ground and set
about picking up the glasses. Susan regards them for a
moment, then steps round them and hurries up the stairs.
Jeremy and Susan go into a clinch, with kisses. James
stands a few feet off.
SUSAN
Jeremy! How Fantastic.
JEREMY
Darling Susan.
SUSAN
You're so famous now.
JEREMY
And you're so beautiful. What are
you doing here?
SUSAN
We're thinking of doing this current
affairs thing for schools. World
history since 1945. Twelve
programmes, lots of stock film.
JEREMY
In that case, you should meet my
very dear friend, James Penfield.
Brilliant analyst of recent history
and a world authority on the Berlin
Airlift.
James and Susan say "Hi" and shake hands.
SUSAN
Was that your chapter, then? It
was very good.
JAMES
Thank you. We met last week, at
the Wajda film. You won't remember.
We didn't actually speak.
SUSAN
(not remembering)
Yes, that's right. I'm being
terribly rude. Bob? Oh, Bob.
This is Bob Tuckett. Bon was at
Oxford too.
Bob, Jeremy, James all say "Hi". Momentarily enthusiasm
flags, no one speaks. Then the drinks tray is suddenly in
their midst and they all reach out thankfully, with mock
groans of relief and surprise.
An hour later, Guests are leaving. James has got Susan
alone. They descend the stairs. CLOSE ON Susan, a
disparate kind of seriousness.
SUSAN
I mean, in many ways I'm right
behind the women's movement. But
sometimes I wish they'd get on
with it instead of moaning on.
The office was split right down
the middle. I mean, as a woman I
understood what they were saying,
that current affairs was all about
what men did, but as a human being
and a television researcher, as a
professional , I could just sense
they'd got it all wrong. I could
see there were two paths I could
go down, power or not-power. Down
the not-power path was lot of
sisterly feeling, masochism and
frustration. Down the other path,
I could keep on working. So of
course I voted with the men and
the other women all resigned. I
think they're mad, don't you?
They arrive by the front door. There is the briefest pause.
James makes his bid.
JAMES
Can I give you a lift?
SUSAN
No, it's all right. I can get a
cab. Night night.
James stands in the doorway and watches her go.
EXT. OXFORD CIRCUS - DAY
An abrupt transition. Morning rush hour, Brixton
Underground station to Oxford Circus. James fights his
way through the crowd up the underground steps leading to
the street. He is late.
EXT. LANGHAM PLACE - DAY
James runs away from CAMERA towards Broadcasting House.
INT. NEWS CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY
Same time, Moulded plastic chairs are ranged along the
walls of the room. Some journalists stand, some are half
asleep. The feel of a morning assembly.
Seated at the only desk, by the door, sits the EDITOR-IN-
CHIEF, While waiting he pretends to look at papers.
The tone of these meetings is restrained, weary.
The Editor speaks with short pauses between each point.
Quietly, as though talking to himself.
EDITOR
Use of this word "finally". We've
had this one before. Difficult
when it gets...
James come in. The Editor ignores him pointedly. There
are no more seats. James stands somewhere inconspicuous.
EDITOR
...when it gets too close to
'finally' the main points of the
news... Now today. Not very sexy
list. We can't live off all these
court cases...Royals...What's
Charles giving Diana for her
birthday?
1ST. JOURNALIST
He's not telling.
EDITOR
Better follow him around, I
suppose.
2ND. JOURNALIST
Newcastle is following Charles to
see if anyone throws a bottle at
his car like last time.
EDITOR
Good... Now, I'm going to drop
this panda business unless something
happens soon.
2ND. JOURNALIST
We've got two people down the zoo
looking into the cage.
EDITOR
Give it one more day. These scrap
iron merchants on, where is it,
Gritviken Anything in that?
JAMES
Could be.
EDITOR
Let's keep an eye on it then.
Okay, I'm just thinking aloud.
Let's take the list in order.
Cabinet reshuffle. Chris?
1ST JOURNALIST
Bob is ringing round the ministries
finding out where everyone is going
to be. That'll come to fruition
later this morning. John'll be at
Caxton Hall. We'll try and lay on
a radio car.
Through this last speech we CLOSE IN on James. Behind his
news prospects sheet he is reading a letter. We glimpse
the letter heading: 'GOLDBOOKS'
EDITOR
Prime Minister is on the Jimmy
Young Show at ten-thirty. We should
get something out of that. Now,
matter Irish...
INT. JAMES' FLAT - EVENING
James is clearing a desk he has against a wall, in
preparation for work on his Suez book. It is a desk that
has not seen much use before, piled high with clutter. He
brings over a lamp for it, arranges the typewriter in its
centre. Various London library books are arranged along
one edge.
On the wall above the desk, James pins a large map of Europe
and the Mediterranean. He sits at the desk, lines up a
couple of pencils...and picks up a book.
INT. RESTAURANT - DAY
Langan's, Piccadilly. Gold and James are met at the door
by the HEAD WAITER, Gold is obviously known here.
Businessmen, media people, agents, conspiracy, urgency,
babble. Cornucopia too - dessert trolley, cheese trolley,
something being flambee'yd at a table.
ANOTHER SHOT through the diners we find Gold and James
already seated. The main course has been cleared away. A
clock shows the time to be ten to three.
JAMES
I was only ten years old at the
time, but it was the first
international crises I can remember.
It's obviously a key point, and
I've always thought that sooner or
later we would have to re-examine
Suez in the light of subsequent
events. And now, suddenly, with
this Falklands business on us,
it's quite clear we do need to
take another look at 1956. The
way I see the book is that it would
get away completely--
The waiter has wheeled up the dessert trolley. Gold has
been examining it for the last few seconds before breaking
in.
GOLD
Would you like a dessert...I'm
having one.
JAMES
No thanks. I'd like to break away--
GOLD
I'll have some of that.
JAMES
...break away completely from--
GOLD
And some of that. Sorry.
JAMES
...from all the moralising and
talk of national humiliation that
is now the standard line on Suez...
Gold has a great forkful of gateau near his face.
GOLD
Yes...You're not a socialist then?
JAMES
No. I'd want to--
GOLD
Good.
JAMES
I'd want to set out events as they
happened. The way I see it is
this: the British Empire was an
ideal. It may have become totally
obsolete by the middle of this
century, but it wasn't totally
dishonourable to try and defend
its remains and try and salvage
some self-respect, which is what I
think the Conservatives were trying
to do. Then there's the essential--
GOLD
Are you going to have coffee?
JAMES
Yes, please.
GOLD
And you'll join me in a sambucca?
JAMES
Thank you.
Gold speaks to the waiter as James continues.
JAMES
...there's the business of the
British collusion with Israel. Of
course it's proved beyond all doubt
now, but I want to set it in the
context of diplomacy and warfare.
I mean, if you're about to attack
one country, it makes sense to
encourage neighbouring countries
to attack it to. The French
understood this. They could never--
The waiter brings the coffee. Gold is lighting a cigar,
having offered one to James.
JAMES
The French could never make out
all the embarrassment and breast-
beating of the British. My enemy's
enemy is my friend. It's as simple
as that. If we had not been so
scrupulous we would not have been
so ashamed.
The waiter brings the sambuccas. We CLOSE IN on the drinks
as James goes on talking. Gold puts a match to James's
drink on this next line.
JAMES
Now it's as if we discovered
ourselves again. We're acting
independently when the standard
line has always been that after
Suez we couldn't lift a finger
without the Americans.
INT. ARCADE - DAY
Gold and James stroll through the arcade, bloated from
their lunch. Both are slightly drunk. Gold is expansive.
GOLD
Personally James, I'm very excited
by this new arrangement we have.
It gives us direct access to
literally hundreds of American
collages. Twentieth century history
is a growth area over there, don't
ask me why. Your readership will
be first and second year American
collage students...
JAMES
Freshman and sophomores...
GOLD
You know the lingo. Jolly good.
So your language will have to be
simple, not stupid, mind, but
simple, very, very simple, and
always remember it's an American
readership.
JAMES
Like I was saying, the American
angle in Suez is very important.
I wouldn't want to say they let us
down. I think that's wrong. A
good ally is one who doesn't back
you up in your mistakes, who tells
you when to pull back. And the
Americans were good allies. Simple
as that.
James is immensely pleased with his own performance during
this speech. Gold, however, is more interested in something
he has seen in a shop window. As soon as James finishes,
Gold mumbles an apology and plunges into the shop. James
follows him in.
INT. NEWSROOM - DAY
A lull in the action. Most of the journalists are eating
out. A few eat sandwiches, smoke, chat, read. A background
television shows crowd scenes from Argentina.
James sits with a plastic cup of coffee reading intently.
He stands at the window looking out over the roofs. Then
he turns abruptly, picks up a telephone and dials.
JAMES
Is that London Midweek? Susan
Barrington.
EXT. A SUBURBAN STREET - NORTHWEST LONDON - DAY
James turns off the street up the front path of a
nondescript per-war semi.
INT. JAMES'S PARENTS HOUSE - DAY
MR. PENFIELD comes into the hall to answer the door. He
is tired-looking man in his sixties. James enters. The
two men fumble awkwardly between a handshake and an embrace.
It is James who favours the former.
MR. PENFIELD
Hello, Jimmy.
JAMES
Dad.
MR. PENFIELD
Come into the kitchen. I'm just
making your mother's tea.
INT. KITCHEN - DAY
Mr. Penfield fusses inexpertly at the stove. James leans
in the doorway.
JAMES
So how is she?
MR. PENFIELD
Well, she doesn't complain much.
You know what she's like. She
keeps asking when you're coming...
JAMES
I'm sorry about Saturday, Dad. It
was just impossible to get away.
MR. PENFIELD
Oh she knows you're very busy,
especially now, with everything
going on...the doctor said to try
her on solids, but she's been right
off her food...You take this up to
her. Tell her you made it. She'll
like that.
James picks up the tray - tinned tomato soup, buttered
bread, and a cup of tea.
INT. BEDROOM - DAY
MRS. PENFIELD lies on her back, dozing. She is plainly
very ill. James sits at the bedside. The tray of food
cools on a bedside table. We have a sense of time passing.
Mrs. Penfield opens her eyes. James kisses her on her
cheeks.
MRS. PENFIELD
Jimmy. I knew you'd come today.
I said to Dad this morning, that
boy'll be here this morning, just
you see. He said don't get your
hopes up, but I knew...
This speech appears to exhaust her. Hey eyes close. She
keeps hold of James's hand. She murmurs.
MRS. PENFIELD
Have you got to do straight off?
JAMES
No, not yet.
MRS. PENFIELD
Good...stay here a bit.
James sits. His mother falls into a deep sleep.
INT. LIVING-ROOM - EVENING
Mr. Penfield sits drinking tea and watching TV. He stands
when James enters and turns the set off.
JAMES
She's asleep.
Mr. Penfield indicates a seat to James.
MR. PENFIELD
Everyone's been marvellous really,
Jimmy. The neighbours come and
sit with her while I'm at work.
JAMES
That's good.
MR. PENFIELD
And Joe Ramage - do you remember
him? He comes and helps out in
the shop.
JAMES
Yes, you said.
MR. PENFIELD
Now, are you going to have some
more tea?
JAMES
No, thanks Dad.
MR. PENFIELD
Or a beer. I've got some in.
James shakes his head. There is a long awkward silence, a
hopeless silence that is particular to both father and
son. Finally James gets to his feet.
JAMES
I've got to be going. I've got a
meeting tonight.
MR. PENFIELD
The bed's all made up if you want
to stay.
JAMES
I'll ring you in the next couple
of days.
Mr. Penfield stands and nods. This is a familiar exchange.
Finish on him.
INT. BARBICAN ARTS COMPLEX - AFTERNOON
James and Susan arrive at the Barbican together. Their
conversation is a little detached from its subject matter.
They are feeling each other out. They are not disagreeing
here. As they talk they make a complicated route through
the Arts Centre, always on the verge of getting lost.
JAMES
What did you think of that Wadja
film?
SUSAN
I quite liked it. I wasn't as
enthusiastic as everyone else.
JAMES
I thought it was tremendous.
SUSAN
I think it went on rather too long.
JAMES
I couldn't bear for it to end.
SUSAN
And I didn't like that man.
JAMES
Oh, but he was terrific.
SUSAN
And the shape of it all. It was
sort of...shapeless.
JAMES
Really? I thought those long
flashbacks were extremely good.
INT. LIFT - AFTERNOON
JAMES
You don't like flashbacks because
your mother's a historian.
SUSAN
Good theory. But I like my mother.
I have no aversions to what she
does.
JAMES
Too bad. What did your father do?
SUSAN
My real father? Well, he was a
flashback.
They laugh as they step out of the lift.
INT. BARBICAN ART GALLERY - LATE AFTERNOON
A little later. A Private View. A discreetly murmuring,
wine, canapés.
The paintings - painfully pretentious - represent various
forms of aesthetic self-consciousness.
James and Susan look at the pictures, but make no reference
to them. They spend a little time in front of each one
before moving to the next. James speech is broken by
moments of contemplation. As they move on again, he picks
up his thread.
JAMES
Everyone describes the same process.
At first it is exciting. You're
at the centre of the world. As
soon as anything happens, you're
the first to know about it. And
there are deadlines a dozen times
a day, even more, and that's
intimidating and exciting. Then
you get the hang of it and the
excitement wears off. Your a clerk
in a rather dowdy Office. There's
none of the glamour of television,
or the penetration of serious
journalism. You're a processor of
semi-official news. Some people
leave at this stage. Then, if you
hang on, and especially if you're
promoted, you discover a new kind
of pleasure. You're pleased by
the ease with which you can write
summaries and bulletins from news
agency printouts, by the way you
ca judge length. Ending a broadcast
on the dot, having everything run
smoothly, selecting a running order
that makes sense, knowing
instinctively what you can and
cannot do. Professionalism.
SUSAN
And you're at this third stage
JAMES
No, there's a fourth. Numbness.
You do everything right, but you
feel nothing either way.
SUSAN
I think you're exaggerating. And
if you aren't, you should jolly
well change your job.
JAMES
Oh yes?
SUSAN
Yes. You're much too old to making
a drama out of alienation, or
whatever you call it. You've got
to take responsibility for your
own happiness. That's what I think
anyway.
Susan has moved on a couple of steps and is bending forwards
to look at a picture. James smiles at her wonderingly, a
little deflated, but impressed.
INT. JAMES' FLAT - EVENING
Jeremy is sprawled in a chair with a drink. James is
standing. Muted piano music from the stereo. EDWARD has
just entered. The other two have been waiting for him.
JAMES
It's the Poet Laureate himself.
Edward approaches. He is a contemporary of the other two,
but looks much younger and less worldly in manner. He is
slightly nervous. He works on a literary magazine and he
is a poet whose work is just beginning to be recognised.
The three are old friends. Jeremy and James keep up their
friendship with Edward because they recognise his talent,
and this makes them feel more authentic. Edward keeps up
with them because he is lonely and his own life is rather
dull. However, he does distrust them a little. And they
keep his talent in place by teasing him.
As Edward enters the other two applaud.
JEREMY
How sweet.
Edward makes a nervous mock bow.
EDWARD
Thank you. Have you two been
smoking that illegal stuff again?
James pours wine into Edward's glass.
JAMES
We were admiring your poem in the
TLS, Edward.
EDWARD
Ah, yes.
JEREMY
It's terribly good.
EDWARD
Don't tell me you've actually read
it, Jeremy.
James picks up the TLS and waves it at Edward.
JEREMY
Committed to memory. Forever.
EDWARD
I see.
JAMES
Blasé and epicene.
JEREMY
We were just chortling over that.
Blasé and epicene. It perfectly
describes the new Foreign Secretary.
So--I hope you don't mind, Edward,
I pinched it for my piece today.
EDWARD
Attributed?
JEREMY
Of course.
EDWARD
Why, is there a new Foreign
Secretary? Who was the old one
anyway?
JEREMY
It needn't concern you, Edward.
James has got some news. He needs
a poet's advice.
Jeremy pats a seat. Edward sits down.
JAMES
C'mon. I don't want any Jones
about this.
JEREMY
No jokes. James is in love.
EDWARD
Congratulations. Who with?
JEREMY
A glamorous young lady way above
his station...
JAMES
Bastard.
JEREMY
Name so Susie Barrington. Daughter
of the eminent historian, Anne
Barrington, step-daughter of the
scandalous Matthew Byrd the
acclaimed sack-artist...
Lay over Jeremy's account on next scene and FADE DOWN
SLOWLY.
INT. SUSAN'S FLAT - LATE EVENING
A sumptuously cluttered place. A chesterfield. Deep
armchairs, silk cushions, many prints, coffee table, books.
Clearly an inherited place.
Susan is pouring coffee. James sits across from her, jacket
off, sunk in cushions.
JEREMY'S VOICE OVER RECEDES.
SUSAN
Mummy and I, we were more like
lovers, really, or sisters. Then
a couple of years after Daddy died,
and not long after I left Oxford,
she started seeing various men and
I was furious. I really was upset.
I stopped going home. I never
phoned. I went round telling
everyone how awful her books were.
And she hardly seemed to notice,
and that made me angrier. Then I
got a job I was interested in, and
I started to see lots of men, and
I suppose I grew up a little and
began to understand. So I wrote
her a long letter, almost seven
pages, saying how sorry I was, and
how I was worried that we were
drifting apart. And do you know,
she wrote me a poem, a really
beautiful poem about mothers and
daughters.
JAMES
How nice.
SUSAN
It makes me weepy just to remember
it. So we were fine again, and
then she got married to Matthew
who's a womaniser and a bit of a
yob, but quite nice really, makes
TV commercials. What about yours.
JAMES
Both dead.
SUSAN
That must be rather nice, in a
way. I mean, you don't have any--
The door bell RINGS loudly.
SUSAN
Damn. They're early.
JAMES
Who?
SUSAN
I called you a taxi.
JAMES
Very thoughtful.
SUSAN
(a gesture of
helplessness)
Well, you know...
EXT. FRONT DOOR - SUSAN'S FLAT - NIGHT
A minute later, James and Susan stand at the front door.
Portico and steps down to the street. Taxi waits. They
kiss, Susan draws back.
JAMES
Again?
SUSAN
Yes, if you like. Call me at work.
James descends the stairs. Susan closes the door.
INT. COCKTAIL BAR - EARLY EVENING
A cocktail bar, a self-conscious imitation of the American
model. James and Jeremy sit on high stools at the bar.
Tall colourful drinks are being set down in front of them.
On a TV there are scenes of the departing Royal Navy fleet.
JEREMY
To the Fleet.
JAMES
To the Fleet.
JEREMY
And the Argies.
JAMES
The Argies.
Jeremy reaches into his inside pocket and pulls out an
envelope.
JEREMY
Now, top secret file.
JAMES
(reaching for it)
Come on. Hand over.
Jeremy outs the envelope out of James's reach.
JEREMY
Uh-huh. Tell me what you think of
this first.
JAMES
It's shit.
JEREMY
You approve!
JAMES
Let me see.
JEREMY
Get way. You'll see when I'm ready.
First I want you to reflect on my
noble behaviour, on how your
interests are closest to my heart,
how I lay awake at night worrying--
JAMES
Jeremy, just let me see what you've
got.
JEREMY
You're so hard. All right then.
I was chatting to some people from
the diary page, and the name of
Barrington came up. I expressed
an interest...
JAMES
Oh yes.
JEREMY
...an innocent interest, and found
out that last year Vogue ran a
series called 'Mothers and
Daughters' Number seven, Anne and
Susan Barrington. Being a decent
loving friend I went to the files
and made a copy for you.
JAMES
Let me see.
JEREMY
Ah, ah. There's more. The piece
celebrates the undying affection
between eminent left-wing historian
and he dazzling daughter. Then
the news editor, who happened to
be in the room, said that years
ago, when he worked on The Guardian,
Anne Barrington had written a very
good piece on...guess...Suez. It
was 1966, the tenth anniversary.
Jeremy hands over the envelope which James now opens.
JEREMY
She's never written a book in it,
but she clearly knew a lot.
JAMES
Mmm...
JEREMY
It's obvious what you have to do.
Your way into the daughter's pants
is through the mother, up the Suez
canal...
JAMES
You're so gross.
JEREMY
She's very nice, apparently. Lives
in Norfolk. And very left-wing.
You'll have to watch yourself there.
JAMES
Ha ha...
JEREMY
According to this, the daughter
goes up to stay quiet often. You'll
need to get yourself invited for
the right weekend.
JAMES
You've really got it all worked
out, haven't you?
JEREMY
No need to thank me, if you don't
want to. Just pay for these drinks.
BARMAN
That'll be eleven pounds, sir
INT. POLYTECHNIC - DAY
James walks along a busy corridor in a polytechnic. In a
recess to one side is a games room. Along the walls are
Space Invader machines by the dozen. Students stand at
the machines intently, their faces illuminated by the glow.
We SEE some expertly handled Space Invader action. James
approaches one of the players and asks directions. Without
looking up the student points down the corridor.
INT. CORRIDOR - DAY
James stands outside the doors or a lecture hall. Inside
a lecture is in progress. We catch a few words.
James pushes the door open.
INT. LECTURE HALL - DAY
The LECTURER glances back and acknowledges his presence.
James stands at the back of the hall for the end of the
lecture.
LECTURER
A vacuum had been created. If the
United States did not fill it, it
was assumed the Russians would.
(A beat)
Next week I shall be considering
the extent to which the behaviour
of nation states or governments
may be judged by the moral criteria
we normally apply to individuals.
Thank you.
The students stand and begin to move out. James and the
Lecturer move towards each other and shake hands.
INT. LECTURER'S ROOM - DAY
James and the Lecturer sit separated by a low table. A
tape-recorder is on the Lecturer's side of the table.
LECTURER
Well, what you need to understand--
JAMES
No, sorry, could you lean forward
a bit when you speak.
LECTURER
Oh. Is this all right? Um...you
see, through the early autumn of
1956 the Egyptians were running
the canal, their canal, that is,
quite efficiently. Traffic was
passing through unimpeded, for
Nasser didn't want to provide the
West with any reason for invading
his country. Is that loud enough,
by the way?
JAMES
It's okay.
LECTURER
Right. So by the time the British
and French launched their invasion
at the beginning of November the
main economic reasons for doing so
had largely evaporated. What
remained, especially for the
British, were the more marginal
and emotional arguments.
INT. JAMES'S FLAT - EVENING
The Lecturer's voice continues on the tape. James pours a
drink and he listens and walks towards his desk.
LECTURER (V.O.)
(from tape)
Using the language of private
behaviour you could say that this
was an affair of the heart - the
idea was to teach Nasser a lesson,
to appear capable of acting
independently, and to maintain
face in the world, particularly
the Arab world.
James switches the tape recorder off. He picks up the
Vogue 'Mothers and Daughters' article and pins it to the
map of Egypt.
INT. A COMMUNITY HALL - EVENING
A poetry reading, given by Edward Long, has just come to
and end. There are about fifty present, and empty chairs
behind. Jeremy and James are in the audience.
Edward is reading the last stanza of a poem.
EDWARD
(reading)
"And so the ferry moves across the
bay, Top heavy as a wedge of wedding
cake, Leaving us to return to our
hotels, Gulls in nautical trim cry
their farewells, Then drop with
avaricious eyes to tale, Souvenirs
from the debris of the day."
He pauses.
EDWARD
Thank you very much.
There is earnest applause which peters out. Now, a tense
silence.
Edward stares impassively at the audience until he catches
the movement of a half-raised arm.
EDWARD
Yes.
The questioner is a middle-class middle-aged woman, rather
twittery.
WOMAN
Me?
EDWARD
Yes.
WOMAN
Oh, yes, well I thought I'd start
the thing off by asking, you know,
and you'll probably think it's a
stupid question that you get all
the time, but could you tell us a
little of how you actually get
ideas, I mean, your poems are quiet
extraordinary and beautiful and I
wondered how they, well, you know,
came about.
During this, Jeremy has caught James's eye and they have
started to giggle silently. This continues through the
scene. They hunch up and turn away from each other, shaking
quietly, half recover, become aware of each other, or of
the absurdity of the questions, or of Edward's attempts to
deal with them, and they fold up once more. From Edward's
POV we SEE their heads duck down.
EDWARD
It isn't a stupid question, but it
is a difficult one to answer. I
get ideas in much the same way as
anyone does. Perhaps the difference
is that I take them more seriously.
I write them down - odd scraps of
things. Then I seem to know when
I'm ready to start work on a poem.
It takes shape to start work on a
poem. It takes shape as I write
it, very slowly.
While Edward answers, the woman nods vigorously.
James and Jeremy recover in the brief pause between
questions. They lift tear-stained faces, then crack up at
the next question.
A young man, anorak, flat auto-didact's 'does the team
think' voice. A piece of paper in hand, he stands,
trembling.
MAN
You are one of the most praised
poets of your generation of younger
poets, and the Sunday Times has
called you a cross between Dante
and Philip Larkin. What is your
reaction to this?
EDWARD
Well, it's silly really.
(catching sight of
Jeremy and James)
It's journalism, yes?
A serious-looking student has his hand raised.
STUDENT
Yes. What is the poet's role in
society today?
CLOSE ON James, drawing breath. A sudden sharp yelp from
Jeremy fighting for air. All heads turn. The two are
almost off their seats onto the floor. We move CLOSE ON
them and hear their moans or 'No', 'No' and 'Stop', 'stop'
and 'Sorry!'
INT. NEWSROOM - LATE MORNING
The newsroom. The teleprinters. The sheets arriving on
the copytaster's desk. On the TV monitor there are pictures
of the Fleet. On the P.A. a voice announces 'Edward Du
Cann on Four'.
We find PHILIP standing by the bulletin desk, He is a
graduate trainee, 23 years old. Earnest in manner, slightly
ingratiating.
Immensely pleased with what he has just read, he moves
towards the summaries desk with a piece of paper in each
hand.
PHILIP
James, look at this. At last.
James is standing by a secretary dictating.
JAMES
Wait...and with talks at the United
Nations still making little
progress, tension and anxiety
settled on MPs of all parties in
Westminster. Speaking on the Jimmy
Young Show earlier today, Mrs
Thatcher said the prospects of a
peaceful solution did not look
encouraging. What is it?
PHILIP
Take a look at these.
James glances over the sheets.
JAMES
Not bad.
PHILIP
Fifteen news items. I got exactly
the same running order as the
bulletin desk. They're all old
pros.
JAMES
Terrific.
Philip moves on to show someone else nearby. We hear him
explain his triumph again.
James makes a gesture and expression of contempt for the
benefit of the secretaries.
A group of journalists passes through. James catches one
of them by the arm.
JAMES
Can I use the phone in your office?
JOURNALISTS
Sure.
INT. OFFICE - LATE MORNING
A small bare office. A few minutes later, James is speaking
on the phone to Susan.
JAMES
(into phone)
You're being very elusive...tell
them you're ill...or leave early
then...do it properly, tell them a
lie...Okay, come when you can.
You've got the address...yes, it
will be nice. 'Bye..
INT. JAMES'S FLAT - NIGHT
Susan sits cross-legged in the centre of James's bed.
James lies along one edge, head propped on elbows. They've
been drinking coffee. We have the sense of a long evening
of talk, but not much else so far. A pause before Susan
speaks.
JAMES
Why not stay?
SUSAN
I have to be up early.
(She stands)
JAMES
Me too.
SUSAN
(straightening
herself at the
mirror. James
standing close)
Two or three years ago I would
have stayed. And fucked you.
JAMES
Too late. Just my luck.
He stands behind her and kisses her neck. She turns and
they kiss. Susan pulls away. She taps James's nose with
her forefinger.
SUSAN
Now I'm more wary. I must be
getting old.
She reaches for her coat. James helps her.
JAMES
You don't trust me.
SUSAN
I don't trust anyone. That's what
comes of working in television.
JAMES
In radio we're different.
SUSAN
I bet. Thanks for the drink.
He opens the door.
JAMES
I might see you in Norfolk over
the weekend.
SUSAN
(smiling)
You just might.
She closes the door on her smile.
INT. SQUASH COURT - DAY
A day later. A glass-fronted Squash Court. James and
Jeremy are into a game. Both are inept and very unfit.
We COME IN on a rally. Jeremy misses an easy ball and
let's his racket drop. James sits down with his back to
the wall. Jeremy gets his cigarettes from the corner of
the court. They inhale smoke as if it were fresh air.
JEREMY
That's enough of that.
JAMES
We've been playing ten minutes for
Christ sake.
JEREMY
Far too long.
A pause. Some keen SQUASH PLAYERS appear at the door,
peer in and go away.
JAMES
What have you been up to?
JEREMY
Well, everyone's desperate for a
new Falkland's angle. Purdy's
come up with a real dog. Worker's
rights in Argentina. So I've been
running round getting people to do
things. But no one's keen. Workers
rights. When did anyone on that
paper give a damn about workers
rights? I said to Purdy, "Look,
tits, bingo, jingo, horoscope,
sport, celebs, gossip and the
occasional firm stand on--"
JAMES
The torture of small children--
JEREMY
On the torture of very small
children, but don't start telling
them about their rights--
JAMES
Hold those rights.
JEREMY
Tame those rights...you know, we're
even freighting in a couple of
exiled Argie trade unionists from
Paris for a TV tie in. One of
them had his balls tap-danced on
by the secret police. The other
one had to be hosed off the wall
of his cell after the police-- yes
my good man?
A muscular COACH in a tracksuit, is rapping on the glass
door. And opening it. He wears a towel around his neck.
JEREMY
I'm sorry. This is a private
conversation. You'll have to wait
outside.
COACH
You can't smoke in here. This is
a squash court.
JEREMY
Well we booked it for a smoke,
didn't we James?
JAMES
And we're not quiet finished.
COACH
Come on. Out!
A few players have gathered to watch outside.
JEREMY
The court is ours for another half
hour. Please run along.
The coach advances into the court, picks up their rackets
and stands over them. He pushes a racket under Jermey's
chin.
COACH
I said, out.
JAMES
On the other hand, we might be
more comfortable at the bar. I've
got some news on Suez.
JEREMY
(racket still under
his chin)
A serious drunk might be of use, I
suppose.
INT. JAMES' FLAT - MORNING
James adjusts his tie in the mirror. The PHONE RINGS, Lay
over James's voice into SCENES 38 and 39.
JAMES
Ohm hello, Dad, I've been meaning
to phone you. How is she?...Oh...in
the night?...Oh God. What does
the doctor say?...Look, I will, I
will. I promise. But it's
impossible at the moment, now with
the crisis on. I'm working night
and day...Look, tell her I'll come
as soon as I can. I promise...Look,
Dad, I've got to dash. Give her
my love. Yes...bye.
EXT. BRIXTON - DAY
James walks down a Brixton street, down a narrow road to a
set of lock-up garages. A group of black kids are playing
football here. James steps round puddles, careful not to
muddy his shoes. He scowls at the kids and unlocks his
garage.
James backs his car out of the garage. An early sixties
Jaguar saloon. He gets to close to the garage door. The
game of football rages around his car, as if it was not
there.
EXT. CAR WASH - DAY
Ten minutes later. A car wash. From the driver's POV we
SEE the revolving brushes advance and engulf the car.
The phone conversation ends. James reaches down and pushes
a tape into the car tape deck. We will HEAR the recording
all through James's journey to SCENE 41.
LECTURER (V.O.)
(from tape)
You see, if we talk of a nation,
like an individual, we can also
speak of it acting deceitfully.
Britain and France had entered
into a secret agreement with the
Arabs' deadly enemy, the Israelis.
The agreement was signed or
initialled by the Foreign Secretary,
Selwyn Lloyd on about October 23,
at Sevres. The Israelis were to
attack Egypt on an agreed date.
British planes based in Cyprus
were to precision bomb Egyptian
airfields to protect Israeli cities
from retaliation. After putting
out an ultimatum to both side to
withdraw to ten miles from the
Canal, which of course the Egyptians
would have to ignore since the
Canal is 100 miles inside their
territory, the British and the
French would invade on the pretext
of 'separating the combatants'.
That became something of a catch
phrase - 'Separating the
combatants'.
EXT. CITY - DAY
James's car makes its way through the city.
EXT. M11 MOTORWAY - DAY
An hour later. The M11. James's car speeds away from us.
EXT. NORTH NORFOLK - DAY
An hour and a half later. James drives along a country
road.
EXT. THE BARRINGTON HOUSE - DAY
A small BOY, TOM, peers over a wall at James's car as it
sweeps into the drive.
INT. LIBRARY - DAY
Five minutes later. The Barrington house. The library.
James waits alone. The house stands in its own grounds -
an old rectory, spacious, but not over-grand. Much charm.
19th and 20th Century oil paintings, a serious reader's
library. Pleasant disorder, but no squalor. There is one
housekeeper.
Somewhere in the house a PHONE RINGS. There are footsteps.
James crosses to a window which faces out over the garden
which is large and well-kept.At some distance away a
gardener is raking leaves. Another man comes and talks to
him and then disappears from sight. This is MATHEW, Anne
Barrington's husband.
The door opens slowly. TOM, the ten year old son of
Matthew, stares at James.
After a pause.
JAMES
Hello.
TOM
Hello.
JAMES
I'm waiting for your mother.
TOM
She said awfully sorry, make
yourself comfortable, she won't be
long. .
JAMES
Thanks.
TOM
Why not sit down and wait?
JAMES
Okay, I will.
TOM
She's not my mother, anyway. My
mother's in Italy.
JAMES
Oh, I see.
TOM
Have you come to talk about me?
JAMES
Not at all. History.
At this Tom leaves the door and advances into the room.
TOM
What period?
JAMES
Suez. 1956.
TOM
Do you want to hear my list of
English Kings and Queens?
JAMES
All right.
TOM
It goes from Henry VIII.
(In rapid monotone)
Henry VIII, Edward IV, Mary,
Elizabeth I, James I, Charles I,
Charles II, James II, William and
Mary, Ann, George I, II, III and
IV, Victoria, Edward VII, George
V, Edward VIII, George IV, Elizabeth
II.
JAMES
What about the Cromwells?
TOM
They don't count.
Anne Barrington comes in. Aged about fifty-five, very
attractive still, and fit.
ANN
Mr. Penfield. I am sorry to have
kept you.
JAMES
It's kind of you to see me.
ANN
Tom, Daddy would like to see you
in the garden. And will you ask
Betty to bring us some coffee.
And remember to say 'please'.
Tom leaves. They watch as he closes the door with
exaggerated care.
ANN
He's a little unhappy. I hope he
wasn't a nuisance?
JAMES
He was delightful.
INT. STUDY - DAY
Ten minutes later. Anne sits behind her desk, James sits
across from her. The HOUSEKEEPER sets down a tray and
leaves.
Anne appraises James and deals with the coffee, and for
the first time in the film we take a long, hard look at
him too. The light flatters. The notebook at his side,
his patience and deference, the well-cut suit...he is at
least credible.
ANN
My first husband worked for the
BBC. I doubt if anyone there
remembers him now, just another
long dead diligent administrator.
He would have been useful in the
fight to preserve the BBC's
independence during the Suez crisis -
one of the few things he was
passionate about. I became involved
too. I started work on a book
that would have been published on
the tenth anniversary of Suez.
Then he died, and I loots the will
to write it. By the time I was
over his death, other books had
been published, and it wasn't worth
going on.
JAMES
What a shame.
ANN
It wasn't much more than a pot
boiler.Suez was very important for
our generation. I didn't want it
to be forgotten. And that's why
I'd like to be able to help you.
But really Mr. Penfield, I looked
through my notes before you came,
they're all very much out of date,
there's been so much published
since. I don't think I'm your
man.
JAMES
(smiling, uncertain)
Well, I am a great admirer of your
work. I read your books on Chartism
when I was still at school. I'm a
journalist, not a historian. There
are questions of method, and
approach. I wondered--
ANN
I see. Are you a socialist, Mr.
Penfield?
JAMES
Yes.
ANN
Good. Suez was a minefield for
both parties.
EXT. GARDEN - DAY
The Garden, same time. Tom wanders aimlessly near the
house. He comes to one of the library windows and peers
in.
Unobserved, he watches Ann and James. Ann is speaking.
James interrupts, Anne nods. James writes something down
in his notebook.
Tom hears his father in the distance calling his name. He
leaves the window and runs.
INT. CONSERVATORY - DAY
Lunchtime. A table spread with white tablecloth, salads
and wine. Set for two.
ANN
My husband apologises for not
joining us. It's not too cold for
you, Mr. Penfield?
JAMES
It's fine, thank you.
ANN
Since you are a friend of my
daughter's, I think I'm entitled
to call you James, don't you think?
JAMES
Please do. I was beginning to
wonder who this Mr. Penfield was.
ANN
And I'd like you to call me Ann.
James raises his glass.
JAMES
To Ann.
ANN
To James. I remember what it was
I was going to say. We were talking
about forgetfulness. The Czech
writer Kundera has one of his
characters say that the struggle
of man against tyranny is the
struggle of memory against
forgetting.
JAMES
History books are first onto the
bonfires.
ANN
If we leave the remembering to
historians then the struggle is
already lost. Everyone must have
a memory, everyone needs to be a
historian. In this country, for
example, we're in danger of losing
hard-won freedoms by dozing off in
a perpetual present.
James is uneasy, a little out of his depth.
ANN
Here I am lecturing you. Have
some pâté.
JAMES
Thanks.
A Pause. Ann has already emptied her glass. James has
hardly touched his. Ann refills her own. Then James,
lightly, wanting to be back on familiar ground.
JAMES
So I can go ahead and be a historian
without feeling like a poseur.I
shall be fulfilling a citizen's
duty.
ANN
If you like. But don't be too
modest, James. The citizen's duty
is to remember, not necessarily to
write books. You are highly
qualified. You're a responsible
journalist doing what sounds to me
like a very demanding job. Every
day you take decisions that depend
on your sense of history. A genuine
tyranny would have to get rid of
people like you.
JAMES
You're kind to be so encouraging.
ANN
I think you'll do very well.
She smiles and briefly touches James's hand. James looks
up impassive.
EXT. BACK GATE TO GARDEN - DAY
Anne and James are returning from an after-lunch walk. We
have a glimpse of the landscape we will see more of on
James's return.
As they walk they arrive through a back gate into the
Barrington garden. A jet fighter races through the sky.
ANN
I've met some of her colleagues,
I'm afraid they struck me as rather
empty people. Very ambitious, and
charming too. But not serious.
No politics.
They walk on.
ANN
I do worry about Susan. Have you
known her long? She hasn't
mentioned you.
JAMES
Actually, we've only just met.
But we're quiet good friends.
ANN
It's a pity she couldn't make it
up here today.
JAMES
Yes.
ANN
She'll be here next weekend. Why
don't you come too, James? I'll *
show you the marshes properly. If
you're lucky you might even see
the first of the geese arriving
from Siberia.
JAMES
Well, I'd hate to be a nuisance.
ANN
Don't be silly. I'll look out
some more Suez material for you.
You'll be very welcome.
EXT. FRONT OF HOUSE - DAY
They come round the front of the house to James's car. He
opens the door and shakes Ann's hand.
JAMES
Thank you.
ANN
We'll see you next week, and if--
Matthew's car comes sweeping up the drive. Tom is in the
front seat. Matthew stops his car so that his front door
is by James.
MATTHEW is fifty. A director of commercials for cinema
and television. Breezy, chunky-faced, keen to be taken
seriously. Essentially good-humoured.
ANN
I wish you wouldn't drive so fast,
Mat, dearest.
MATHEW
I'll get a bike. I promise. Hi!
Just off?
Matthew and James shake hands over the car doors.
ANN
Matthew my husband. James. James
is coming to stay next weekend.
MATHEW
Very good. Well, I'll see you
then.
He strides away with Tom.
MATHEW
Come on, Tom. Let's see if we can
get this thing working.
James pulls away. Ann stands watching him till he is out
of sight, and a little longer after that.
EXT. A149 ROAD - DAY
Ten minutes later. James drives along the A149 near Clay.
He has the window wide open, the radio on. The great
expanse of salt marsh is to his right. The huge sky. The
mood is triumphant.
EXT. CENTRAL NORFOLK - DAY
Half an hour later. A lonely road in central Norfolk.
James brings the car to a sudden halt. He switches off
the engine. In the silence we are able to hear the car
cassette player. As it plays, James walks round the car
till he finds his flat tyre. He rummages with growing ill-
temper in the boot. Two cases of empty wine bottles, a
mildewed towel and swimming trunks, but no jack.
LECTURER (V.O.)
(from tape)
There was a real desire on the
British part to appear virtuous
while behaving aggressively, and
the pursuit of virtue led to many
lies being told, most notable the
Prime Minister's in the House of
Commons on December 20 when he
said that there was 'no
foreknowledge that Israel would
attack Egypt'. Perhaps we should
reverse the question and ask
ourselves to what extent individuals
behave like governments, who are
bound to act in the national
interest which in turn is rarely
separable from the government's
interest, or that of the class it
represents...
Furious, he goes to the front of the car and snaps off the
tape machine, and stands jiggling his keys in the vast
silence.
A minute later. James sets off. The immensity of the
landscape, the incongruousness of his clothes...
EXT. LONELY ROAD - DAY
James, walking.
EXT. ROAD THROUGH WOOD - DAY
The road passes through a wood. When BETTY speaks, it
surprises both James and us.
She stands at the head of a little grass track that leads
into a wood. She carries a plastic carrier bag. She is
almost childlike in her friendliness.
BETTY
Are you the man from the BBC?
JAMES
What?
BETTY
Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten
you. I thought you must be from
the BBC.
(she advances)
We've been waiting, see. And you
don't exactly look like a farmer.
I'm Betty.
They shake hands.
JAMES
James Penfield.
BETTY
Come and meet the others. They've
been waiting for you.
EXT. WOODS. AIRFIELD PERIMETER - DAY
James follows Betty through the woods. A rumbling and
whining noise increases in violence and becomes deafening
once they leave the wood and cross open ground towards a
Military Air Base. The Peace Camp is near the perimeter
fence. A ramshackle collection of tents, caravans, a tepee
and a rough wooden shelter which is the communal area. A
fire burns here. Various peace signs, Women's Movement
sign and slogan. ('Fight War, Not Wars', etc.)
Three women are sitting around the fire. A little further
off a MAN is chopping wood. One of the women, CARMEN, is
over sixty. The other two are in their thirties. The
man, PETE, is a vintage hippy. A good mix of regional
accents among the campers. Betty leads James to the fire.
BETTY
I found a man from the BBC, but
he's not the man.
CARMEN
Never mind. We'll just have to
make do. Would you like a cup of
tea? Jill, give the young man
your cup.
JAMES
(Dodging smoke from
the fire)
Thank you.
CARMEN
Sit on that log, dear.
JILL
Be careful though, it wobbles.
The others laugh.
JAMES
Er, listen, I... I've got a
puncture. I wondered if I might
borrow a jack.
JILL AND CAROL
Pete!
JAMES
Sorry to be a nuisance.
Pete ambles over. Inscrutable behind much hair. He
registers no awareness of James. He smokes a roll-up.
CARMEN
Pete, do we have a jack?
Pete inhales, considers and nods almost imperceptibly.
CARMEN
Could you look it out for our
friend?
Pete nods again and returns to chopping wood.
JILL
Is the tea all right? I didn't
ask you if you wanted sugar.
JAMES
It's fine, thanks.
CARMEN
Now first of all, tell us your
name.
JAMES
Penfield. James Penfield.
CARMEN
This is Jill, Carol, Betty, Mandy,
Louise, Pete over there, and I'm
Carmen.
The women smile and murmur hello as they are introduced.
Their friendliness progressively disorientates James.
CARMEN
There's another fifteen of us out
at a meeting.
CAROL
Would you like us to show you round
the camp.
CARMEN
Let him drink his tea, poor man.
I don't know what's happened to
this other fellow. He said he'd
be here at three.
JILL
Lost!
BETTY
What do you do at the BBC, James?
JAMES
I work in radio news, in London.
A chorus of 'Oh well then ... 'and 'Great!'
JAMES
But I'm not an interviewer or a
correspondent.
CARMEN
That doesn't matter. As long as
we can get our message through to
someone there. Jill, where are
those handouts?
JILL
They're back here somewhere.
They're a bit crumpled.
Pete hands a jack to James.
JAMES
Oh, great. Thanks.
Now James has his jack he begins to back away.
CARMEN
Give them here. This tells you
how the Women's Peace Camp came to
be set up. All local women at
first, then we had support from
women and men all over the country.
JAMES
Very good.
JILL
The response has been just amazing.
JAMES
Yes.
CARMEN
And this sheet tells you all about
the base, the number of missiles
they're going to have, what they
think they're for and so on.
CAROL
We've had the local radio down
here.
JAMES
Terrific.
CARMEN
But what we need is national
coverage. It's difficult with
this Falklands madness going on.
Do you think you might be able to
do something when you get back?
JAMES
I'll suggest it. Remember though,
we're news, not features. It might
help if you could get yourselves
attacked by the police. Anyway,
I'll be back with this soon.
Thanks.
BETTY
(close up, eyes
wide)
Ordinary people everywhere are
saying 'No, we don't want these
terrible weapons!' That's news!
JAMES
I won't be a moment.
EXT. PEACE CAMP - EVENING
James drives down the road towards the airbase. He stops
his car well short of the camp. He takes the jack from
the car and walks towards the camp. There are more people
now moving in and out of the light of the fire. The sounds
of voices, laughter, mostly female. A meal is being cooked.
James sets down the jack where it can be found. He has
been observed throughout by Pete, from the shadows. He
speaks as James is turning back towards his car.
PETE
Off then?
JAMES
Er, yes, I put the jack by the ...
hut there. Thanks for your help
... I... I have to be getting back
... so ... see you. And thanks
... and ... all the best.
Pete watches James walk away.
INT. TELEVISION COMPANY ENTRANCE/STAIRS - AFTERNOON
London. A day later. The television company where Susan
works. James is late. The lift is out of order. He runs
up several flights of stairs with diminishing energy.
INT. SCREENING ROOM - AFTERNOON
Breathless, James bursts into the screening room. Susan
is seated. Jeremy stands near her, leaning against a desk,
smoking. By contrast, they are calm.
JEREMY
Fortunate that I was here to keep
Susan entertained.
JAMES
Sorry. Got held up. What are you
doing here?
JEREMY
Delivering gossip and goodwill.
It seems we'll both be doing
Brighton.
(He starts to put
on his coat)
Perhaps you should come too.
JAMES
(to Susan)
Will it be fun?
SUSAN
It was last year.
JEREMY
We might be able to dig out a couple
of Suez survivors for you.
JAMES
Perhaps I will, then.
JEREMY
(Kissing on the
cheek first Susan,
then James)
I'm off. Let's meet. You promised
to tell me about Norfolk.
JAMES
I'll ring you.
A brief pause and a slight awkwardness after Jeremy leaves.
SUSAN
(into microphone)
I think we're ready now, thank
you. And how was Norfolk? Did
you get on with my mother?
JAMES
I think she liked me.
SUSAN
Did she talk about me?
JAMES
No. We talked about history, and
Siberian Geese.
The lights go down.
We SEE a series of FILM CLIPS about Suez: crowd scenes in
Cairo; footage of the Fleet on its way from Malta; the
actual invasion; parachutes; Eden at Downing Street; Lloyd
at the airport; the protest meeting at Trafalgar Square;
fighting in Suez streets.
James sneaks occasional looks at Susan throughout. We SEE
her in profile, lit by the screen.
SUSAN
(As the first
pictures come up)
It's not in chronological order.
There's an hour of stuff, of which
the director has to choose four
minutes. What'll happen is that
I'll choose it for him ... Does he
look like a man on speed?
Our two minute sequence is presented to represent an hour
of film. When at last it is over and the lights come up,
there is a moment of stupefaction. Susan yawns and prepares
to leave.
SUSAN
Do you think she's invited you up
for her sake or for mine?
JAMES
(kissing Susan's
fingers)
I haven't really thought about it.
SUSAN
(smiling, mischievous)
Well, you should.
James kisses Susan. She complies rather than responds.
Susan disengages herself gently and gathers her things.
She stands.
SUSAN
Well, must get on.
INT. NEWSROOM - EARLY MORNING
A day or two later. People are drifting out to go down
the corridor to the morning news conference. James is one
of the last to leave. On his way out he meets Charles,
the newsreader from Scene two.
JAMES
Charles! I didn't know you were
back. Have a good holiday?
CHARLES
Not too bad, thanks. How have you
been?
JAMES
Working hard on that book I was
telling you about. Coming to the
meeting?
CHARLES
I'm not sure I can face it.
JAMES
Keep me company.
INT. CORRIDOR - EARLY MORNING
James steers Charles out of the newsroom and along the
corridor. Only slowly does it become apparent that Charles
is in a state of distress.
JAMES
How's Mary?
CHARLES
She's fine. Well, actually we've
broken up. It's all over.
JAMES
No. That's terrible, Charles.
What happened?
CHARLES
(on the edge of
tears)
Look, I'd rather you didn't ask me
questions. I can't talk about it.
They have reached the News Conference Room, but Charles
walks on down the corridor to nurse his grief out of sight.
INT. NEWS CONFERENCE ROOM - MORNING
The News Conference Room. Ten minutes later. The same
Editor. The same matter-of-factness and slight boredom.
EDITOR
....as it happens they got all
their facts wrong anyway. I checked
up. We reported the big peace
march on Hyde Park last October,
and a march on NATO headquarters
in the spring, and the death of
whatsisname last month, the old
CND man...
He looks round. It is not clear that anyone is listening.
EDITOR
What really gets to them, though
they'll never admit it, these types,
is that we give both sides, theirs
and the government's.
Multilateralists and unilateralists.
Hawks and doves. As far as they're
concerned, there's only one side
to the question. Nuclear weapons
are bad. Full stop. End of
discussion. Anyone who says there's
more to it than that is... what
was it...
(He picks up a
newspaper cutting)
'Under cover of an authoritative
news service, propagating a military
definition of reality.'
He pauses, relaxes into professional indifference.
EDITOR
Still. With the party conferences
coming up in the autumn there's
bound to be some action on that
front and we'd be doing something
anyway. It won't all be Falklands
business. James, is there something
in there for us, if we could tie
it in with something else?
JAMES
Well, it's all a bit cranky and
small scale. Vegetarians, hippies,
disturbed housewives. Local radio
story, I'd say, if that. They're
mad.
EDITOR
Oh well. Just an idea. Now. Can
we talk about this radio-car cock-
up yesterday. Chris?
INT. NEWSROOM STUDIO - LATE MORNING.
Two hours later. The studio. James and Charles sit at
the table, as in Scene Three. Charles reads. He is
obviously distressed but his voice remains under control.
James watches anxiously.
CHARLES
It was an emotional occasion.
Hundreds of small craft led by six
fire tugs making fountains of water
formed an escort flotilla, and
four Wasp helicopters flew past in
salute. In the City the Financial
Times Ordinary Shares Index was
down ten points an hour ago at
529.8. BBC Radio News.
In the Control Room, the minute hand of the clock reaches
five past the hour; the sweep hand reaches the twelve on
Charles's last word. The Controller pushes a button.
Charles slumps forward.
JAMES
My God that was close! Well done,
Charles. I knew you wouldn't let
me down. But God! We almost didn't
make it.
James is standing, gathering papers. He bustles out,
indifferent. We CLOSE IN on Charles. Unseen by anyone,
he is just beginning to cry.
INT. JAMES'S FLAT - EVENING
James is typing rapidly. There is a growing pile of
typewritten sheets to one side. We go over his shoulder
and look closely at the map, Egypt, the desert . . .
EXT. THE BARRINGTON HOUSE, NORFOLK - LATE MORNING
A few days later. James has just arrived and switched his
engine off. But for the wind and birdsong, silence. There
is no reply when he tries the front door. A note pinned
to the door reads: 'Gone for a walk. Follow footpath.
Susan.'
EXT. DYKE - DAY
James walks along the dyke, across the marshes. Below
him, on the sand, in the distance, are two figures. James
stops to watch them. Matthew and Susan are deep in
conversation — evidently a serious matter. They seem to
be making an agreement. Matthew puts his head on Susan's
shoulder, and they walk on, unaware of James.
INT. DINING-ROOM - NIGHT
A burst of laughter. It is dinner. Seated are Ann,
Matthew, Tom, Susan, James and JACEK, a professor from
Central Europe, mid-sixties, an old friend of Ann's. Betty,
the housemaid, serves.
JACEK
(heavy accent)
The second is less pleasant. A
Pole is confronted by a German and
a Russian soldier. Which should
he shoot first? The German first,
the Russian second. Duty before
pleasure.
A more subdued response.
TOM
I've heard that one at school.
JACEK
Then you are a well-educated young
man.
(to Ann)
Tom has been reciting his English
kings and queens to me.
JAMES
And to me.
JACEK
Haven't you socialist historians
in the West made kings and queens
out of date in schools?
ANN
We keep trying.
MATTHEW
I can tell you that the history of
the monarchy is alive and well in
the national memory. I shot a
commercial - a series of vignettes
of kings and queens — Henry VIII,
Mary —
TOM
Elizabeth I.
MATTHEW
Elizabeth I, and so on - and we
had a fantastic response.
SUSAN
What were you advertising?
MATTHEW
Oh, some new lager.
JACEK
I'm pleased to hear that there is
at least some national memory. I
agree with Ann that the British
forget too quickly. Here you have
enviable freedoms, and yet no
monuments to those who struggled
to win them for you. Now that is
why I think there is hope for the
Poles, whoever occupies their
country. They remember their dates,
and they keep adding to them.
December 1981, Gdansk 1980, 1976,
1970. Katyn 1940, 1922 and so on.
It's a subversive list. Say it
out loud on the streets of Warsaw
and you might get arrested.
During this last speech of Jacek's we SEE James trying to
catch Susan's eye. She glances up and looks away.
INT. STAIRS - NIGHT
An hour later.
Wine glass in hand James goes upstairs. He comes to Tom's
room.
INT. TOM'S ROOM - NIGHT
Susan has been seeing Tom into bed. James watches from
the doorway. She kisses her brother and turns out the
light.
TOM
Don't close the door. Don't turn
out the hall light.
SUSAN
I won't. Goodnight.
TOM
'Night.
James and Susan linger in the semi-darkness outside Tom's
room. From downstairs comes the sound of boisterous
conversation.
JAMES
I haven't seen much of you.
SUSAN
No. It's a bit of a madhouse.
For some reason a lot of my mother's
friends specialise in monologues.
JAMES
He's all right, the professor.
Tom comes out of his room.
TOM
Ah, Susy, it...
SUSAN
Tom . .. bed! Go on.
Tom retreats into his bedroom. James and Susan move to
the head of the stairs.
JAMES
Look, will you come on a walk with
me tomorrow?
SUSAN
I might.
JAMES
Might?
ANN (O.S.)
(calling from below)
Susan, James, are you up there?
SUSAN
Hello, Mummy.
Ann comes half-way up the stairs.
ANN
Betty's made some coffee. Do you
want some?
SUSAN
Yes, we do.
ANN
Well, we're in the library.
Ann lingers a moment. She wants James downstairs. As
soon as she has gone, he kisses Susan.
JAMES
Might?
SUSAN
(Strokes his face)
Yes. Might. Remember, you're
here to talk to my mother.
She leads the way downstairs.
INT. LIBRARY - NIGHT
The library. A fire burns. Ann pours the coffee and is
highly aware of James when he comes in. Jacek is a little
drunk.
JACEK
Ah, Susan, James. Come and judge.
I am interrogating Matthew. I am
asking him how a director of
advertisements and a socialist get
along so well together. How does
the lion lie down with the lamb.
ANN
By staying in town all week. And
lying down with several lambs.
MATTHEW
Not so. We meet half way. Ann
has grown very fond of her material
comforts. She even owns land with
keep out signs posted on the
boundaries. And I...
ANN
(wearily, to James)
I bought a wood because a local
farmer was going to cut it down.
The signs were already there.
JACEK
And you...
MATTHEW
I earn so much money at what I do
that I can't even begin to defend
it. I used to shoot a whole line
about the value and necessity of
advertising...
ANN
You were more interesting then.
MATTHEW
...but now I'm an agnostic. So is
Ann, if she'd only admit it.
ANN
Come on, James. Defend me from
this tripe.
Expectant pause. Susan smirks. James is out of his depth.
JAMES
Well, there's no reason why a
socialist shouldn't like comfort,
or own a wood, or be very rich.
The problem is making all that
available to everybody ...
All except Ann groan dismissively.
MATTHEW
Rubbish!
JACEK
Ah, if everybody is to have
everything, then you need to plan
very carefully, you need to control
the future. This is the tragedy
of Marxism. The future is not
ours to control, nothing turns out
as we plan it.
(to Ann)
You remember that charming note of
Enzensberger's, Spanish anarchists
in 1898 looked forward to a glorious
future after the revolution — a
world of incredibly tall shining
buildings, with elevators that
would save climbing stairs, electric
light for all, garbage disposal
chutes and wonderful household
gadgets. This vision is now a
reality in our cities, the victory
has been won and it looks just
like defeat. ..
Susan yawns conspicuously. Everybody turns.
SUSAN
(unrepentant)
Sorry. Tired.
INT. KITCHEN - MORNING
The following morning. If possible, a beautiful day.
Betty is washing up a large pile of breakfast things.
From outside, the sound of much hilarity.
EXT. GARDEN - MORNING
On the back lawn Tom, Susan and Matthew are playing
football. To one side, Jacek leans on his stick and
watches.
INT. LIBRARY - MORNING
The library. Ann and James sit facing each other by the
fireplace. The game of football can be heard. From where
James sits he can see past and into the gardens, the
occasional glimpse of Susan, the enticing sunlight.
ANN
The references are to Hansard or
to newspapers. I haven't got the
actual speeches now. You'll have
to chase them up.
JAMES
I will, thanks.
ANN
These are transcripts of various
radio broadcasts, including
Gaitskill's, the one they tried to
stop. You ought to have that ...
Betty knocks and enters.
BETTY
Excuse me. Phone call for Mr
Penfield.
ANN
Take it here.
JAMES
Thanks. Hello... how did you get
this number? I see. Look, I'm
really sorry about last week, I...
no, I'm up here researching
something I... is she?.. . well,
don't they have painkillers for
that?... Oh, yeah... Look, tell
her 111 be there... I can't just
drop everything. It'll probably
be the day after tomorrow...
Right... Ok... yes, goodbye.
(to Ann)
It's a relative of mine. She's
not very well.
(He sits down again)
I'm sorry. What were you saying?
EXT. GARDEN - DAY
A couple of hours later. Susan sits on a bench re-tying
the lace of her walking boot. James stands, waiting.
SUSAN
Jeremy phoned this morning
JAMES
What did he want?
SUSAN
He's making plans for Brighton.
He thought we could travel down
together.
JAMES
That'll be fun
SUSAN
In your car
JAMES
Why not.
Ann appears from the house. Tom follows.
ANN
Hello. Anyone for a walk? Tom
isn't, I can tell you.
JAMES
Well, we were just...
SUSAN
Don't you want to walk, Tom?
TOM
No.
SUSAN
Actually, I've been once today
already. I'll stay here with him.
ANN
James and I have been indoors all
morning.
SUSAN
Well, he's very keen to go.
She walks with Tom towards the house.
JAMES
Susan...
Holding Tom's hand, she turns and smiles.
SUSAN
See you when you get back.
James has been quickly outmanoeuvred by Susan. He stands
awkwardly for a moment, collecting himself.
ANN
Shall we go?
JAMES
Yes.
EXT. DYKE - DAY
The dyke across the marshes, the sand dunes, the sea.
During Ann's monologue (broken up where appropriate) we
SEE the two sometimes IN CLOSE, sometimes as MINUTE FIGURES
in this immense landscape.
James follows Ann along the dyke. They stop and she points
out a wooded hill, well inland. Later...
ANN
Then I began to listen to what the
well-off were saying about the
poor now — the war had just ended,
and the language was much the same
as it had been before the first
Reform Act. A small minority
thought that England was really
theirs, they had made it, they
owned it. The rest, the wage
earners, were foreigners, outsiders
intent on wrecking it all.
JAMES
Didn't Evelyn Waugh say that the
country under Atlee seemed to be
under enemy occupation?
ANN
Did he? I left school and worked
for the Labour Party. My older
brother, George, had just been
killed in Greece, and he'd been an
active member. I hero-worshipped
him. He was 25 years old ...
(she trails off)
It was an exciting time for us,
those first couple of years after
the war. We thought the country
was about to become a true
democracy. I can understand why
people of your generation want to
write about that time. They feel
betrayed. They want to know what
went wrong.
JAMES
What went wrong?
ANN
Oh, many things. Inertia ... Stalin
and the Cold War... a failure of
nerve. We took the seediest, most
inefficient fifth of the economy
into State care, paid out millions
for it, put the same old duffers
in charge. A new broom with very
old bristles. When the Tories
were returned, I went and sat in
the BM and wrote my little book on
Chartism.
Later. Walking home
ANN.
I don't like admitting it, but the
truth is, I am happy. Matthew's
right. I like comfort. I like
doing my own work and not having
to teach. I love my house and the
garden, and my wood.
(she stops)
And I'm very happy walking here
with you. (She takes his hand.)
You have such a quiet, strong sense
of purpose. Energy. I think I'll
rely on you to take the
uncomfortable stands in life.
I've done my bit.
They smile at each other.
Ann moves in to kiss James passionately. He complies.
A jet fighter flies in low over the marshes.
INT. DRAWING-ROOM - EVENING
Susan and Tom, who wears pyjamas and dressing-gown, are
playing Chess. James watches Susan. Tom is noisily,
bossily instructing her in the rules. Matthew is
approaching James, about to speak.
MATTHEW
I just might give you a ring when
we get back to London. There's
one or two things I'd like to...
Will you let me have your number
before you leave? Have you ever
watched a commercial being made?
JAMES
No.
MATTHEW
Well, it's worth seeing.
Ann appears in the doorway.
ANN
James...
There is a moment of awkwardness. James squeezes past
Matthew and goes towards Ann.
JAMES
Excuse me.
INT. LIBRARY - EVENING
The library. A moment later. James has just come in.
Ann hands him a silver framed photograph.
ANN
I wanted to show you. It was taken
six months before he died.
The resemblance between James and the dead brother should
be clear. James studies the photograph. He looks up.
Ann is gazing at him steadily.
INT. DINING-ROOM - NIGHT
Half an hour later. Ann, Matthew, Susan and James. A
certain strain. The sound of knives and forks only. In
the hall the PHONE RINGS. They hear Betty pick it up.
Still holding the receiver she pushes open the dining-room
door.
BETTY
(to Matthew)
It's for you, Mr Fox.
The others go on eating, acutely aware of Matthew's
conversation.
MATTHEW
(from the hall)
Hello... Oh, hi... well, you know...
He pushes the door shut with his foot. James looks at
Susan. Susan glances at her mother. Ann knows it is one
of Matthew's girlfriends. She goes on eating, a brave but
failing attempt to appear untouched.
INT. JAMES'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Very late, the same night. From the point of view of an
intruder we move into the room. James is asleep.
ANNE'S VOICE
(whispers)
James... James.
He snaps awake. We SEE what he sees. Ann sits on the
edge of his bed, in tears. She touches his face. She
leans over and embraces him.
INT. JAMES'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
A little later. The bedside lamp is on. James lies still,
his expression numb. The bedclothes are in disarray. His
bedroom door is just closing.
INT. NEWSROOM - LATE MORNING
The Newsroom at its busiest, as in Scene One. Linger on
the activity before finding James. He sits writing a report
in longhand, referring to News Agency material. Much
dictating going on around him, so that Philip who sits
across from him has almost to shout to be heard. He has
picked up a phone and is covering the mouthpiece.
PHILIP
It's that lady from Norfolk again.
JAMES
I'm not here.
PHILIP
I'm terribly sorry. He doesn't
seem to be here ... No ... Yes, if
I see him, I will. .. Goodbye.
She's going to phone back.
JAMES
Next time tell her I've gone away.
CHARLES
Aha. James giving some woman the
old heave-ho.
JAMES
(rim smile)
Exactly that.
INT. JAMES'S FLAT - EVENING
TIGHT SHOT of Edward on the phone.
EDWARD
Hello, you don't know me. My name's
Edward Long. I'm a friend of James
Penfield. He asked me to phone
you. I don't know what any of
this means, but he said you would
understand ... Yes, that's right.
He said he's got to go away for a
while, and that he'll be writing
to you and please don't try and
contact him ... Hello?
Pulling away, we see where we are. James sits in a chair
reading a magazine. God, that was terrible. Don't ever
ask me another favour like that.
JAMES
You were wonderful. I'm very
grateful.
EDWARD
She hung up. Why couldn't you
just write to her?
JAMES
I will, sooner or later.
(standing)
Trouble is I hate writing letters.
Now, where are we going to eat?
INT. FILM STUDIO - MORNING
What we SEE first is the actual set and only subsequently
the surrounding technical apparatus of film-making. We
are suddenly in a deeply contented pre-war middle-class
sitting-room. Guide track: sweet, period music. Dad sits
in an armchair reading a newspaper. A pipe is near at
hand. To one side, a wireless. At his feet, a girl plays
with a doll; a boy plays with a model steam engine.
Mum enters with a tray of steaming hot drinks. As she
sets down the tray on the arm of Dad's chair, the music
peaks and the children half rise and arrange themselves on
either side of Dad's legs. Everyone smiles up at Mum.
Once this has unfolded, we pull back to see the camera
crew, continuity, make-up etc. James is standing to one
side watching.
MATTHEW
And ... cut. Steve?
STEVE
((camera-man)
Not the best, guv'nor.
MATTHEW
Right... we'll go again, please.
Matthew to ad lib instructions to actors and crew. He
notices James.
MATTHEW
James, good, you made it. We're
just going to do one more take,
then we'll break for lunch.
The commercial is set up and shot again, with Matthew
continuing to give ad libbed directions. As soon as the
take is over, Matthew snatches his jacket, gives a quick
kiss to a young woman who could well be his current lover,
and steers James out of the studio.
MATTHEW
Right, James. Come on. Let's go
before the clients get hold of me.
INT. PUB - DAY
Lunch time. Matthew stands at the bar where he is buying
drinks and lunch. Then the two men sit at a small table
face to face.
MATTHEW
I'll tell you another thing. We
might have led the world once into
the Industrial Revolution, now we
lead with television commercials.
We're the best, it's as simple as
that. Even the Americans will
admit it now ... the camera work,
the acting, the scripts, special
effects. We've got the lot. Nearly
all the good directors here have
ambitions to make serious films.
(a sudden laugh)
That food you're eating.
JAMES
Yes.
MATTHEW
What would you call it?
JAMES
I dunno. Ploughman's Lunch.
MATTHEW
Ploughman's Lunch. Traditional
English fare.
JAMES
U-huh.
MATTHEW
In fact it's the invention of an
advertising campaign they ran in
the early sixties to encourage
people to eat in pubs. A completely
successful fabrication of the past,
the Ploughman's Lunch was.
We look at James's plate, the unappetising food. Matthew
takes a long drink.
MATTHEW
Listen, James. There's something
else I want to talk to you about.
Matthew pauses.
MATTHEW
I'm pretty broadminded, and I'd
rather be frank than have everybody
misunderstanding one another. If
you see what I mean.
James does not.
MATTHEW
Susan told me that your visits to
Norfolk had ... well, an ulterior
motive.
JAMES
She said that?
MATTHEW
You weren't really interested in
Suez at all. Incredibly enough,
you were interested in my wife.
JAMES
Now listen...
MATTHEW
No, no, let me go on before you
get the wrong idea. Ann and I
have kept to our separate bedrooms
for the last three years. And I
can't imagine that Susan hasn't
hinted at the kind of life I lead
in London. I'm not telling you
how to run your affairs. I'm just
saying ... I don't mind. I'm giving
you permission.
We are CLOSE IN on James's reaction.
INT. JAMES'S CAR - EARLY MORNING
James drives towards Susan's flat. Jeremy sprawls in the
back seat, slowly peeling the foil from a champagne bottle.
Both are well-dressed. As they draw up outside Susan's
flat, Jeremy leans forward and murmurs in James's ear.
JEREMY
Still in love?
JAMES
I'm not sure.
He presses the horn and gets out. Jeremy gets out too.
Susan comes down the steps. She is also smartly dressed.
She kisses James. He takes her small suitcase and puts it
in the boot. She kisses Jeremy.
JEREMY
Darling Susan. You look like an
angel. But where's your hat?
SUSAN
Oh no!
JEREMY
They won't let you in without one.
James hands Susan into the front seat.
JEREMY
Brighton, James!
EXT. LONDON STREET - DAY
The car slips through the London traffic.
INT. JAMES'S CAR - DAY
In the car, a few minutes later. Much hilarity. Susan is
holding a glass ready as Jeremy eases out the cork.
SUSAN
Don't point it at James!
JEREMY
Voila!
The cork flies. The champagne is poured. Susan hands a
glass to James.
JEREMY
To the ninety-ninth conference of
the National Union of Conservative
and Unionist Associations!
All repeat the toast with various stumbling inaccuracies.
INT. CAR PARK, BRIGHTON - DAY
James drives into a multi-storey car park. Jeremy gets
out of the car and goes to look at the view which is of
modern office developments.
JEREMY
Hah - the seaside! Isn't it
heavenly!
Susan joins Jeremy.
SUSAN
Gorgeous.
Jeremy is taking out his Press Pass and pinning it to his
lapel.
SUSAN
What have you got there?
JEREMY
You'd look naked without one.
SUSAN
Oh, yes! Where's mine? I want to
look like you.
James joins them. There follows a little charade of mock
sympathy.
SUSAN
What about James?
Jeremy and Susan chorus a sympathetic moan.
JEREMY
We'll see what we can do.
SUSAN
Promise?
JEREMY
Promise.
EXT. BRIGHTON PROMENADE - DAY
James, Jeremy and Susan walk along the promenade and cross
the road towards the Grand Hotel. The Conference Centre
is visible and so too are the POLICE and DEMONSTRATORS.
Jeremy has linked arms with Susan. James lags behind a
little. Jeremy tells a joke, barely audible above the
SOUND of TRAFFIC and the CHANTS of the PROTESTORS. Susan
giggles as she and Jeremy skip forward to dodge the traffic.
INT. LOBBY, GRAND HOTEL - DAY
The lobby is crowded with DELEGATES, MPs, PRESS and TV
PEOPLE.
JEREMY
There goes my deep throat. Excuse
me.
Jeremy darts away. Susan is looking about her.
JAMES
Shall we have a drink or something?
SUSAN
Oh ... excuse me. There's Nicholas.
James is left.
EXT. HOTEL BALCONY - AFTERNOON
DELEGATES and MPs, and MEDIA PEOPLE, are taking tea on the
long balcony of the Grand Hotel. Jeremy is interviewing
an MP. James and Susan sit at the same table listening.
JEREMY
Then, the theory goes, you'll be
back in favour. In line for a
real job. Is that right?
MP
Well, it's a theory ... interesting.
Oh, excuse me, there's Willy.
The MP makes off.
JEREMY
I want to see him too.
Jeremy leaves. James comes and sits closer to Susan.
JAMES
We don't seem to get much time to
talk.
SUSAN
I know. I'm sorry.
An announcement comes through on the hotel's P.A.
ANNOUNCER'S VOICE (O.S.)
Miss Susan Barrington, Miss Susan
Barrington. A phone call for you.
Susan makes a half-hearted apologetic gesture and leaves.
As she goes she passes Jeremy who holds a Press Pass for
James. He kneels by James's chair and pins the card to
his lapel.
JEREMY
General Sir James Penfield ...
services during the Norfolk
campaign.
EXT. CONFERENCE CENTRE - LATE AFTERNOON
The three walk towards the Conference Centre, along the
gauntlet of PROTESTORS and ONLOOKERS. Among them are Carmen
and Betty, holding a placard which says 'Women's Peace
Camp'. They catch sight of James. Some puzzled
recognition. James hurries away from the women and through
the doors into the Centre.
INT. PRESS BALCONY, CONFERENCE CENTRE - DAY
James, Susan and Jeremy come onto the Press balcony and
find their seats while FRANCIS PYM delivers a speech.
PYM
It was they who rebuffed aggression,
they who struck such a powerful
blow for democracy .. .
JAMES
(to Susan)
I managed to book us a table at
Wheelers.
PYM
I believe this will prove of wider
significance even than the event
itself. We were seen to be fighting
to defend principles which are
fundamental to free nations
everywhere, and our reputation has
been enhanced as a result.
JEREMY
(to Susan)
Francis is in cracking form, don't
you think?
INT. BAR - EARLY EVENING
James, Jeremy and Susan. Journalists, delegates etc.
SUSAN
(triumphant, excited)
It was incredible. He came back,
made a pompous little bow and said,
'My dear girl you may film me all
afternoon if you wish.' And he's
promised not to talk to the Press.
JEREMY
It's because he desires you. The
women get all the breaks at these
conferences.
SUSAN
It's true! I was here last year
doing a piece, remember? I was in
the bar with all these Northern
trade unionists and their sponsored
MPs. They were all incredibly fat
and beery, huge trousers and braces.
And so sweet. They all stood round
me like children saying 'You!
Working for television? You're
just a young thing.' They wouldn't
let me buy drinks even when I told
them the programme was paying.
They kept looking at my pass which
was pinned here and saying
(Mock Yorkshire.)
'Oo, can I?'
JEREMY
Then one of them was sick all over
your new dress.
SUSAN
No, he wasn't. He just lowered
himself into a bar stool and said...
(Yorkshire)
'Oo I do feel bad. I 'ad three
pints of lager and six onion
bajees!'
They all laugh.
SUSAN
I've got to go. See you at dinner.
She kisses them both. They watch her go. Their different
expressions.
JEREMY
Six onion bajees! Great girl.
(then, confidential)
Did you shake the mother off?
JAMES
Yes, finally.
JEREMY
Big mistake, I think. You might
have learned a lot.
JAMES
(sudden)
Are you up to something?
Jeremy shrugs innocently and shows his empty hands.
INT. CONFERENCE CENTRE - DAY
James wanders through the Centre in search of Susan. He
enters the debating chamber. MICHAEL HESELTINE is
addressing the Conference. James wanders out to the space
below the platform where journalists and photographers are
gathered. He goes up the aisles between the seated
delegates. No sign of Susan. He leaves the chamber.
HESELTINE
....left-wing councils employ labour
candidates in the paid voluntary
sector. We now face a professional
left financed at the ratepayer's
and tax payer's expense! Just
more money is not a solution in
itself. As we have given more
money to the professional left...
INT. LOBBY, CONFERENCE CENTRE. DAY
Much later. James crosses the crowded lobby, still in
search of Susan.
INT. STAIRS, CONFERENCE CENTRE - DAY
James climbs the stairs to the Press balcony. He hears
Mrs Thatcher's voice, and from the street below, the
chanting of protestors.
THATCHER (O.S.)
This is not going to be a speech
about the Falklands campaign,
although I would be proud to make
one. But I want to say just this
because it is true for all our
people.
INT. PRESS BALCONY - DAY
James passes through the doors and finds a seat.
THATCHER
The spirit of the South Atlantic
was the spirit of Britain at her
best. It has been said that we
surprised the world, that British
patriotism was rediscovered in
those spring days. Mr President,
it was never really lost!
James suddenly notices Susan down on the lower floor. She
passes through the doors and is gone. James gets to his
feet.
THATCHER
But it would be no bad thing if
the feeling that swept over the
country then were to continue to
inspire us. But if there was any
doubt about the determination of
the British people...
Jeremy and Susan come through the doors onto the Press
balcony. James stops. They have not seen him. He watches
as they stand together. Clearly a new intimacy has been
established.
THATCHER
... it was removed by men and women
who a few months ago brought a
renewed sense of pride and self-
respect to our country.
Jeremy kisses the nape of Susan's neck. They are not
interested in staying for the speech. James watches stonily
as they leave.
THATCHER
They were for the most part young.
Let all of us here, and in the
wider audience outside, pause and
reflect...
Numbed, James returns to his seat.
THATCHER
...on what we who stayed at home
owe to those who sailed and fought
and lived and died and won. If
this is tomorrow's generation,
then Britain has little to fear in
the years to come!
Mix to the last sentence of the Prime Minister's speech.
THATCHER
We will tell the people the truth,
and the people will be our judge!
James sits through the standing ovation. The delegates
cheer, Land of Hope and Glory' is sung. James chews his
nails.
INT. CONFERENCE CENTRE - DAY
Hours later. WORKMEN are dismantling the platforms, taking
away props, taking down the Conference backdrop and slogans.
In LONG-SHOT we SEE Jeremy making his way between the rows
of chairs. James pursues him enraged, shouting. The ad
libbed obscenity can barely be heard.
EXT. BRIGHTON SEA FRONT - DUSK
James and Jeremy.
James's rage is spent. It has collapsed into bitterness.
The two men stop under a street lamp.
JEREMY
Susan and I are very old friends,
James.
JAMES
Fuck off.
JEREMY
And you were obviously getting
nowhere with her. I was waiting
for the right moment to tell you
that.
JAMES
My God. You even cooked up that
Norfolk trip.
JEREMY
It might have worked. Really. I
would have been delighted for you
if it had. But she wasn't
interested. Not my fault.
JAMES
You're a piece of shit
JEREMY
I've known Susan for more than
fifteen years. James, we're old
allies.
At this last word, James looks up. Jeremy walks away.
INT. JAMES'S FLAT - DAY
A few weeks later. We don't see James. We SEE and HEAR
words pounding onto the PAGE. A fury in the typing. The
page is pulled clear. SILENCE. We STAY ON the TYPEWRITER.
INT. BBC NEWSROOM - DAY
James is leaving in a hurry. He pulls on a thick overcoat,
gathers up some papers, ignores someone who calls after
him as he leaves.
EXT. LANGHAM PLACE - DAY
James leaves Broadcasting House and walks towards Oxford
Circus.
INT. GOLD'S OFFICE - DAY
Gold stands by his desk as James comes in, pouring two
glasses of wine.
GOLD
James... I can't begin to tell you
how pleased we all are.
(he hands James a
glass)
Congratulations, and I really mean
it.
JAMES
Thank you.
GOLD
It's everything we wanted. A very
good read. A terrific piece of
work. So, here's to you and Suez.
JAMES
And to history.
CLOSE IN, the glasses touch.
EXT. CEMETARY - DAY
A group of mourners round a grave. A grey day. A priest
reads from the Book of Common Prayer, but his voice is
virtually lost to us. We find James's father, hunched in
his overcoat, face immobile with grief. Next to him, James,
expressionless.
James glances at his watch.
FREEZE FRAME. OPTICAL ZOOM.
THE END