2. EXT.
PROMENADE. DAY.
The window of
the cab winds down.
The deathly
face of an OLD WOMAN looks out.
NICK’s (VOICE OVER)
You have your
last little look, eh?
The OLD WOMAN’S POV: a small child coming
along the prom sticks out her tongue.
The OLD WOMAN rolls her watery eyes.
3. INT. TRAVELING AIRPLANE. DAY.
JANE’S face, prim, tight, refusing
to look out the window at cirrus clouds.
4. EXT. PROMENADE. DAY.
NICK is now helping the OLD WOMAN out of the car.
The OLD WOMAN now supported by NICK, dragging herself with her stick
overlooking the beach and sea.
The OLD WOMAN reaching desperately for the
rail as she arrives.
And the
walking stick she’s let go off dropping down to the pebbles below.
NICK’S face.
NICK
How you
bleedin’ well going to walk back now?
5. INT.AIRPORT ARRIVALS: HEATHROW. DAY.
JANE walks smartly through
arrivals.
Her face
lights imperiously.
A NUN walking
forward to greet her.
JANE revealing a gift for the
NUN.
An African
sculpture of a figure with large phallus.
The NUN.
6. EXT. PROMENADE. DAY.
NICK pushing the OLD WOMAN into the cab and slamming the
door.
The old FACE
looking out as the window of the cab winds up.
The cab
drawing away, continuing its journey along the front.
7. INT. BAR: VICTORIA STATION. DAY.
FRANK finishing a pint, turns
out.
8. EXT/INT. VICTORIA STATION CONCOURSE. DAY.
The indicator
flips over stopping on the ‘FAST’ to Brighton.
PAUL runs through a barrier
towards a waiting train.
FRANK leaning out of a window of
the train, waves PAUL on.
PAUL acknowledges the wave and
runs on up the platform.
9. INT. LIVING ROOM; BRIGHTON FLAT. DAY.
The OLD WOMAN lying on a Z-bed set up in a
living room.
Her POV:
through French windows a street running down-hill, and distantly beyond, the
horizon of the sea.
NICK snatching up a ringing
phone in the room.
NICK
No, no, now
just now – about to have a lady deceased on our hands here.
So saying he
picks up a small hand bell from the side of the Z-bed and tinkles it.
NICK
Oh, no – it’s
me dear old Mum.
The glassy
eyes of the OLD WOMAN.
Her POV: the
huge, once palatial room now falling to pieces.
Ashtrays on
the tables around piled high with fag ends..
Suddenly a
silent TOP SHOT on this: a birds-eye view of the room – held until the
(filtered) SOUND of a doorbell comes through.
NICK hanging up.
NICK
Later, mate.
He leaves the
room.
The OLD WOMAN’S eyes move as if enquiring
as to who’s at the door: distantly we hear NICK’s
voice shouting abuse at someone.
NICK re-entering the room.
NICK
(Holding an envelope)
Fuckin’ writ
to possess the place now! Fuckin’ landlord! Time like this!
OLD WOMAN
What?
NICK
They want five
grand paid into their offices by the day after tomorrow or we’re out.
OLD WOMAN
I’m dying in
my own home I am.
NICK
We’re out.
OLD WOMAN
How much?
NICK
Five fuckin’
thousand.
OLD WOMAN
(Pauses)
Well, couldn’t
you . . . you know, do a deal? For your dying old Mum?
NICK looks, thinks.
Suddenly SOUND
of the doorbell again.
10. INT. HALLWAY. DAY.
NICK opening the front door.
JANE, ignoring him, walking
straight past.
11. INT.LIVING ROOM. DAY.
JANE going straight to the OLD WOMAN, taking her hand.
NICK
(Entering
behind her)
Made it then,
eh?
JANE
Have a little
respect.
NICK
After 10
fuckin’ years!
JANE turns her head to the OLD WOMAN. She shuts her eyes, screwing
them up as if doing so might bring life back into the OLD WOMAN. She looks comic.
NICK’S reaction: is she sane?
JANE
(At length,
opening her eyes)
In Zambia
where I come from one person dies every four minutes.
NICK
Bloody expert,
eh?
NICK shrugs his head back,
begins counting.
NICK
One, two,
three, four – one, two, three, four . . .
As if he is
counting the minutes before the next person (in Zambia) dies: he is obviously
unstable.
The OLD WOMAN lurches into a sudden
coughing fit.
NICK is there instantly throwing
her tissues, pulling them from the box like confetti and letting them fall into
her face.
JANE’S face shows how she hates
the way he is.
She calms the OLD WOMAN.
JANE
The suffering
you have endured.
NICK making a face, turning out.
