"table for one"

Dominic Jenkinson

Copyright WGAw
dom_jenkinson@hotmail.com
FADE IN:

INT. GARDEN - DAY

SUPER: SPRING 1979
A woman’s angry voice. An argument rages. Muted, but nearby.
An Action Man doll sits alone at a table. He’s dressed in a
pastel cardigan, more appropriate to Barbie’s Ken.
Moving along the unkempt lawn, several Barbie and Ken style
dolls sit as couples at tables.
Two girls muse over the single doll from a set of swings.
BETH, 10, skinny, serious, teary eyed. Glances to a nearby,
shabby house, source of the argument.
SARAH, 10, chubby, freckles, a frizz of red hair, chomps on
gum as she studies the dolls. Looks to Beth and shrugs.
BETH
I think Marco is better suited to
Kristell.
Sarah nods as Beth leans forward and switches two dolls.
SARAH
That still leaves Brian.
Beth turns from the crashes and shouts of the house to the
lone Action Man doll. She bites her lip.
A tortoise plods past the toy couples. Beth leans forward
and picks him up. His head retracts into his shell.
BETH
Room in there for me?
The argument is reaching a climax.
Beth places the tortoise next to lonely Brian. Looks to
Sarah. More crashes and screams from the house.
BETH
Nice to have a friend, at least...
They turn to a PUNKY WOMAN, 25, orange leggings, Sex Pistols
T-Shirt, who storms from the house with a bulging suitcase.
 2.

SARAH
I don’t think that’s a good match.
Beth’s DAD, 45, defeated and tired in a beige cardigan,
watches Punky stomp away.
She stops abruptly by the swings, leans down to Beth.
PUNKY WOMAN
I’m sorry, Beth. But I can see why
your mum couldn’t stick it.
Beth puts her hands to her eyes. Sarah places a comforting
arm around her shoulder.
In the doorway, Beth’s dad looks to a piece of toast he
holds. A thick end slice, a crust. He takes an ambivalent
bite. Smiles.
Sarah nods toward him. Beth jumps from her swing.
SARAH
Beth, wait.
Beth turns back to her.
SARAH
(earnest)
I know you’re only ten, and I’m ten
and three quarters, but I’ll be
your best friend for ever and ever.
Beth smiles through her tears and runs to her dad.
BETH
Has she gone, Dad? Has auntie
Sharon left?
DAD
She wasn’t your auntie.
BETH
I know... Has she gone?
DAD
Afraid so, love... On my own again.
He rubs Beth’s head with one hand and takes another bite
from his thick piece of toast.
FADE OUT.
 3.

SUPER: "NOT BY BREAD ALONE"

FADE IN:

EXT: BUILDING SITE - DAY - PRESENT DAY

DAVE JACKSON, 40, sits against a brick wall. A big man, he
wipes sweat from his brow with tanned forearms covered in
faded green tattoo ink.
He concentrates on a paperback, "Roti and Rye by PAT PATEL."
Six builders crash by, punting a football. They shout in
Polish. A small builder with a limp, struggles after them.
Dave shakes his head at the book. Places a bookmark a single
page in, rubs his temple and checks his watch.
He takes a package from a battered leather satchel. Unwraps
brown paper and holds up a magnificent sandwich.
He admires the thick slices and takes a bite.

LATER
The builders slop mortar and add bricks to a section of
wall. They laugh and joke in Polish.
On his own section of wall, Dave works in silence. He checks
his watch. His shirt is covered in sweat and grime.

EXT. PORTABLE TOILET - DAY

A fat BOSS, 50, in shabby suit and a hard hat, bangs on the
door of the single toilet.
Builders pass and nod goodbye.
BOSS
(Polish accent)
Come on, come on. Too long. Too
long.
DAVE (O.S.)
Almost done.
The boss shakes his head. Checks his watch. He fishes a coin
from his pocket and uses it to twist the lock open.
 4.

Dave stands naked from the waist up. He washes suds from his
lathered up face and body.
BOSS
I fuckin’ told you. You do this at
home! Get!
He jabs his thumb to point which way he wants Dave. He
squeezes past him, pushes him out.
DAVE
Okay! It’s just... I’m meeting
someone.
BOSS
Don’t care. Same every day! Wash at
home! I bostin’ for a shit!
The boss slams the door. Dave pulls a towel and fresh shirt
from his satchel and wipes the suds from his body.

EXT. BUS STOP - DAY

Dave towers above the rest of the queue. His mouth forms
each word as he reads his novel. He checks his watch.
INSERT: DIGITAL WATCH, 5.48pm.
A double-decker rises over the brow of a hill. The number on
the front illuminated: 41.
Dave allows an old lady to board before him.

BUS
A bearded DRIVER gives Dave a smile and wink of recognition.
DRIVER
Good day, mate?
DAVE
It is now.
DRIVER
That’s it. Homeward bound.
Dave shows his pass and walks to the empty rear bench seat.
He checks his reflection in the window. Straightens his
collar, gives each arm pit a tentative sniff.
Satisfied he sits back and stares out of the window.
 5.

A framed moving picture of grey factories, warehouses and

chimneys, punctuated by the brown scrub of dead land.
The bus slows to a halt. Dave looks forward, fidgets with
his satchel, straightens his shirt.
A petite and pretty Indian woman in a red sari, CHHAYA, 31,
boards the bus. Dave watches her, spellbound.
She walks down the aisle to the wheel arch side-on-seat, and
steals a diagonal glance at Dave.
He nonchalantly gives her a smile and nod. Chhaya smiles
back, almost relieved. She nervously searches her handbag.
She takes a battered copy of "Roti and Rye" from her bag,
and pushes her long dark hair back over her shoulders.
He stares away from her, out of the window. His fingers grip
his book inside his satchel.

LATER
The bus heads toward a smoggy sunset. Chhaya stands and
looks at Dave. She nods her head at him, he smiles and nods
back. She exits the bus.

INT. SUPERMARKET CHECKOUT - DAY

Dave places a microwave meal for one, some beer, and a bag
of yeast on the conveyor belt.
He glances at a young couple, their shopping piled high. A
colourful array of fruits, vegetables and produce.
An old man in a pork pie hat, ERIC, 72, has his back to him.
The cashier scans his tin of tomato soup and loaf of bread.
The old man offers the CASHIER a Lottery slip.
CASHIER
You do the Lotto at the kiosk.
She idly pokes a thumb over her shoulder. The old man nods.
The cashier turns to Dave, eyes to the heavens and a shake
of her head. Dave opens his mouth, but doesn’t speak.
 6.

INT. DAVE’S KITCHEN - NIGHT

Dave enters his 1970’s kitchen. His satchel dropped wearily
on the table, beers in the fridge, meal in the microwave.
A cupboard is opened, various bags and containers are placed
neatly on the counter next to a gleaming white bread maker.
Big hands work fast and precise. Flour and yeast measured by
hand and eye. A switch flicked, the machine churns.

INT. DAVE’S LOUNGE - NIGHT

Dave sips a beer and reads a newspaper. His finger traces
along situations vacant. He circles a few adverts.

EXT. BUILDING SITE - DAY

Dave sits alone against his wall. He mouths the words from
his novel as he reads.
Other builders punt their football. The smaller builder
hobbles after them.
Dave replaces his bookmark and takes a package from his
satchel. He inhales the bread deeply and smiles.
The ball breaks to the small builder. He punts it for all
his worth. It flies high and off the site.
The other builders shout at him in Polish.
A tough looking builder walks over and grabs him by the
lapels. He looks fearful.
Dave looks around. The other builders laugh. Dave slowly
rises. He changes his mind, sits back down.
The smaller man is thrown to the floor. The others walk
away. Dave looks down at his sandwich in silence.

EXT. PORTABLE TOILET - DAY

Dave clutches his satchel. A heavy padlock and chain secure
the door. The Boss walks by, laughing.
 7.

EXT. BUILDING SITE - DAY

Dave stands in his undies next to a rusty tap. Water
spatters onto the dusty soil.
He wets his soap and goes to work on his chest and armpits.
He stoops under the tap and into the freezing water flow.
DAVE
Jesus!
Out of the water, he pulls a towel from his satchel. Dries
off and puts on a fresh shirt.

EXT. BUS STOP - DAY

Dave joins the queue, out of breath. The old lady taps her
watch. Dave smiles as the 41 bus arrives.

INT. BUS - DAY

Chhaya glides down the aisle like an Indian Princess. She
takes her side-on-seat, looks nervously to Dave. They
exchange embarrassed smiles. Dave looks out of his window.
He fidgets with his satchel, realises he’s fidgeting, and
places it on the seat next to him.
CHHAYA (O.S)
(slight Indian accent)
You’ll lose your book.
Dave turns to her, she nods at his satchel.
The seam has split and half of his novel protrudes. He looks
at Chhaya guiltily. She holds up her copy.
CHHAYA
Are you enjoying it?
DAVE
Sorry?
CHHAYA
The book, do you like it?
Dave tucks the book back into his bag.
DAVE
Yeah, yeah, it’s good. I only just
started it. I’m a slow reader.
 8.

Chhaya shows him an inquisitive smile.

CHHAYA
I never saw you read on the bus
before.
DAVE
No... I just like to, you know,
watch the world go by.
Dave smiles and turns back to the window. Chhaya looks to
the ugly landscape.
CHHAYA
Not such pretty scenery. Not like
in the book.
Chhaya smiles warmly and holds up the novel again. Dave
smiles nervously, shrugs and turns to the window.
Chhaya looks disappointed. Looks to her book.
Dave stares out of the window, but not at the landscape, he
watches her reflection as she pushes her hair over her
shoulders and reads.

INT. DAVE’S KITCHEN - NIGHT

Dave pours ingredients into his bread maker.
He sits down to a microwave meal for one. He opens a letter.
INSERT: Letter with logo: "Johnston’s Bakery."
DAVE
(slow and precise)
"Dear Mr. Jackson, unfortunately
you have been unsuccessful with
your application on this occasion."
He opens another envelope and scans the letter.
Disappointment. He opens a drawer and places both rejections
on a pile of similar letters.
The bread maker churns.
 9.

INT. DAVE’S LOUNGE - NIGHT

Dave sits on his sofa. He concentrates on his book. The room
is completely silent and still.
DAVE
"This was his station in life and
he must live it. If he could find
it in himself to change it, he
would. As he could not, it would be
lived as it was, without her."
Dave shakes his head, stands up and walks to his mirror. He
looks at his reflection, licks his lower lip. Looks ready to
speak... He closes his eyes. He can’t.

EXT. BUS STOP - DAY

Dave reads as he stands next to the bus stop regulars. He
checks his watch.
INSERT: Digital watch "5.48pm"
The 41 climbs over the brow of the hill.

INT. BUS - DAY

Dave stuffs the book into his satchel. Chhaya walks down the
aisle, she gives Dave a smile that could melt hearts.
She sits down on the side seat, holds up her book.
CHHAYA
Nearly finished.
A bookmark protrudes from the last few pages. Dave smiles,
licks his bottom lip.
CHHAYA
What attracted you to this one?
DAVE
I just saw it. Liked the look of
it... It’s different.
Interesting... You?
CHHAYA
(smiles)
Honestly? I found it on here.
She points behind her seat.
 10.

CHHAYA
But it was a book I wanted to read.
You need to hurry up and finish. I
want to talk to you about it.
DAVE
Alright’, should just be another
decade.
Chhaya smiles again. A pause. She looks at Dave, almost
expectant of conversation. Dave licks his lower lip again,
looks at his shoes, then turns to the window.
The reflection shows Chhaya watch him for a moment, then
open her book, disappointed.

INT. SUPERMARKET CHECKOUT - DAY

Dave stands next to items on the belt. A four pack of beer,
a microwave meal, a bag of flour.
In front, COLIN, 45, fidgets and scratches his bald head. He
nervously fusses with his items, a large bottle of vodka, a
microwave chicken dinner and a box of paracetamol.

INT. DAVE’S KITCHEN - NIGHT

Dave traces a finger down the small ads. He circles a few
bakery jobs. He turns to the bread maker as it churns.

EXT. BUILDING SITE - DAY

The builders chase their football.
Dave takes a bite from his sandwich. He picks up his book
and opens it.
The football knocks the book from his hand, his sandwich
falls in the dirt.
Dave looks up at the builders. One laughs. Another BUILDER
smiles and walks over to Dave.
BUILDER
(Polish accent)
Sorry, mate.
Dave stares at him as he chases after the ball. He brushes
soil from his book.
 11.

LATER
Dave tentatively washes under the tap. He towels off and
takes a fresh shirt from his satchel.

EXT. BUS STOP - DAY

Dave checks his watch.
INSERT: Digital watch "5.58pm"
Muttering and silent consternation from the bus stop
regulars. The old lady checks her watch, shakes her head.
Dave looks to the horizon. A 41 appears over the hill. He
smiles.
Another 41 appears close behind, and then another.
Dave and the regulars exchange puzzled looks.
The buses all pull to a stop. Some people get off. Dave
looks into the first at an ELDERLY DRIVER.
DAVE
Is this the five forty eight?
ELDERLY DRIVER
Your guess is as good as mine. Bit
of trouble up the hill. All got
backed up. All forty ones though.
All the same.
DAVE
I’ll try the other one.
The Elderly Driver shrugs. Dave dashes to the second bus.
Sees the bearded Driver. Dave steps aboard the

BUS
and smiles.
DRIVER
Thought you were jumping ship on me
then. Good day?
DAVE
It is now. This is the five forty
eight?
The driver nods.
 12.

DRIVER
Not that it makes any difference.
Accident on the hill. A crash.
Thirty eight and me got backed up.
All the same though?
DAVE
Sort of... Homeward bound.
Goes to his regular seat, takes his book from a new satchel.
He reads, but his attention is distracted. He looks to the
bus in front and behind. He drums his fingers nervously.

EXT. ROAD - DAY

The three buses pass by in close formation.

EXT. BUS STOP - DAY

Chhaya stands in a purple sari. The three buses pull to a
stop. A few passengers get off each bus.
Chhaya looks puzzled. Tries to see through a window on the
first bus, just sees her reflection.

BUS
Dave looks out of the window. He sees Chhaya step on to the
bus in front. The doors close.
He licks his bottom lip, fidgets with his satchel. A moment.
His bus edges forward.
DAVE
Hold it!
He jumps up, runs down the aisle. The driver looks puzzled.

STREET
Dave dashes to the bus in front. It pulls away. He bangs on
the door.
The Elderly Driver looks to him puzzled. The doors open.
 13.

DAVE
Sorry, I changed me mind.
The driver shrugs his shoulders as Dave boards the

OTHER BUS
Chhaya, sad, in her familiar seat. She sees Dave, gives a
winning smile. Dave takes a deep breath and sits down.
DAVE
How’s the book going?
CHHAYA
(laughing)
You swapped buses!
Dave shrugs his shoulders... but smirks.
CHHAYA
Almost the end of the story.
DAVE
I hope it’s a good ending.
CHHAYA
I’m sure. I won’t say a thing until
you’re finished.
DAVE
Funny about the buses, eh?
CHHAYA
(enthusiastic)
Yes, I didn’t know which one you
would be on.
Dave looks surprised, pleased. Chhaya realises what she
said, looks slightly embarrassed.
CHHAYA
To... See how you’re enjoying the
book...
Dave blushes. He smiles and nods. Busies himself fiddling
with his satchel.
The bus stops. Two men board. CHUNKY, 19, over-gelled hair,
and SKINNY, 19, bad skin, bad moustache.
They pay and noisily push each other down the aisle.
 14.

SKINNY YOUTH
Move it, ya nob!
CHUNKY YOUTH
It was you who lost me my bike, ya
fuckin’ gay!
They bounce aggressively onto the side seat opposite Chhaya.
Dave looks at his feet. Chhaya reads her book.
The youths shove each other a few more times. Skinny looks
at Chhaya. Nudges Chunky, conspiratorially.
CHUNKY YOUTH
Whatcha’ reading, love?
Dave’s eyes flick up momentarily. Skinny stares at Chhaya.
Chhaya angles her book. The cover shows an Indian girl
folding roti bread.
SKINNY YOUTH
It’s a fuckin book, innit.
CHUNKY YOUTH
I know that.
Dave steals a glance at Chhaya. She stares at her book.
CHUNKY YOUTH
It’s a Paki book, innit?
Chhaya takes a deep breath. Her eyes don’t leave her book.
The youths stare at her.
SKINNY YOUTH
Not talking are ya?
Dave takes a deep breath. Looks from Chhaya to the youths.
DAVE
Shut up, or I’ll get the driver.
SKINNY YOUTH
The fuck asked you?
DAVE
Just shut up and get off the bus.
The youths laugh.
 15.

CHUNKY YOUTH
Who made you inspector? Your
girlfriend is she?
He punctuates the last word by flicking his scrunched up
ticket at Chhaya. It bounces of her shoulder.
Dave’s fist slams into Chunky’s head, propelling it into
Skinny’s face. Blood. Chunky goes down. Chhaya gasps.
SKINNY YOUTH
Fuckin’ hell!
Passengers spin around as Chunky hits the floor. Skinny
spins toward Dave, straight into a fist in his stomach. He
falls forward, into an upper cut that sends him down.
The bus slams to a halt. Chunky slowly rises, Dave stomps on
his back, and again.
CHHAYA
Stop!
Chhaya is crying. Dave seems to snap out of a haze. He
swallows, looks at the youths at his feet.
Chhaya jumps up. She runs down the aisle in tears.
PASSENGER
Somebody call an Ambulance!
PASSENGER 2
And the police!
Dave looks around him. He shuffles over to the emergency
exit, flicks the handle. The ALARM sounds. He jumps out.

STREET
Dave watches Chhaya run away. He takes a step in her
direction. Pauses. He turns away and heads toward an alley.
SIRENS in the distance.

EXT. BUILDING SITE - DAY

Dave slops mortar on a wall. Places a brick and taps it into
place. He checks his watch, walks away from the wall.
 16.

EXT. BUS STOP - DAY

Dave, in his unchanged, stained work shirt. A different set
of people in the bus queue.
INSERT: Digital watch "5.28pm"
A bus climbs over the hill.

BUS
An Asian bus driver nods at Dave. Dave heads up the stairs.

INT. SUPERMARKET CHECKOUT - DAY

Dave stands next to his items on the conveyor belt. Four
pack of beer, a microwave curry, a packet of yeast.
In front of him, ANDY, 30, scruffy suit and yesterday’s
stubble. On the belt, twenty or so bottles of red wine.

INT. DAVE’S KITCHEN - NIGHT

The bread maker churns. Dave sips a beer. He opens a letter.
INSERT: Letter, a logo "Dougal’s Bakery."
He reads the letter. A look of defeat.
A drawer opens, Dave drops his letter in with a pile of
rejections. His copy of "Roti and Rye" lies amongst them.
He sits down at the table, looks at the small ads. Deep
sigh. He screws the sheet up and throws it away.
His hands go to his face, he tries to hold back the tears.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:

EXT. PAVEMENT CAFE - DAY

SUPER: SUMMER 1999
Beth, now 30, pretty, petite, slightly intense behind
fuck-me glasses. A ponytail hangs forward over one shoulder.
Opposite, Sarah, also 30, chunky, freckles, frizz of red
hair, in smart business suit. They both sip champagne.
 17.

SARAH
Okay, so you’re sticking with Tom?
BETH
Yes. No doubt in my mind.
SARAH
In the whole universe of Beth, your
best relationship was with a
tortoise?
BETH
I used to pretend we would get
married and live happily ever
after.
SARAH
Tom the tortoise... What ever
happened to him?
BETH
He ran away.
Sarah cracks up. Beth affects being hurt.
BETH
I’m glad you find it so funny.
SARAH
Tortoises can’t run.
BETH
Technically they can’t. But they
can walk really fast. And anyway,
he left me.
SARAH
Awww, that’s so sweet.
She holds up her champagne flute. They clink glasses.
SARAH
Okay, o’ fellow singleton. Forget
best, what was the worst?
BETH
That I was involved in?
SARAH
Yes, otherwise it would have to be
the time that you set up Vicky and
Mike.
 18.

BETH
You’re just jealous. You know
they’re perfect together.
SARAH
Yes. They are. How does that help
me again?
Beth smiles and shrugs her shoulders.
BETH
He’s not your type. Well, you might
of fancied him, but trust me, it
wouldn’t have worked. That’s solid
gold Beth dating advice.
SARAH
Like don’t trust a tortoise,
they’ll run out on you every time.
BETH
Yes. The little bastards.
A handsome WAITER, 25, glides by the table, smiles.
SARAH
(whispers)
That’s the one, did you mention me
to him?
BETH
Yes, but he looks about twelve
years old... Apart from the married
face.
SARAH
The what? What’s a married face?
BETH
He just looks married. I can
tell... And yes, I know that’s
never stopped you before.
SARAH
Well... Healthy relationships can
blossom from the most complicated
of situations.
BETH
Um, name one healthy relationship
you’ve had with a married man?
 19.

SARAH
(thinks)
Mmmm, Justin?
BETH
The guy from the gym? Are you
insane? His wife turned up at your
office. How was that healthy?
SARAH
I got a free six month membership.
Beth makes the drum roll/cymbal noise. BU-DUM-TISH!
SARAH
Sorry, we shouldn’t be talking
about failed relationships. Not
today.
BETH
This is true.
Sarah pours two glasses and raises a toast.
SARAH
To business.
BETH
Relationships.
SARAH
Both.
They drink. The waiter walks over, smiles at Sarah.
WAITER
Can I get you ladies anything else?
Sarah gives subtle nods and looks to Beth.
BETH
(reluctant)
We’re fine... This is my friend I
told you about, Sarah. From the
marketing firm?
WAITER
(to Sarah)
Oh yeah, how you doing? Beth was
telling me you paint. I’m a bit of
a wannabe artist myself.
 20.

SARAH
Well, I’ve been known to dabble.
Beth raises her eyebrows slightly.
BETH
She’s very talented.
WAITER
I’d like to see your work.
SARAH
Oh, really? It’s pretty amateurish.
WAITER
Hey, me too. Here, give me a call
sometime.
He winks and takes a card from his wallet. Hands it to her
with his left hand. Sarah takes the card. Beth frowns.
BETH
Thanks. Can we get the bill?
WAITER
Sure... Be right back.
He winks at Sarah and exits. Beth shakes her head to Sarah.
BETH
Married.
SARAH
What?
Beth holds up her left hand. Taps her ring finger.
BETH
Took his ring off.
SARAH
Serious?
BETH
Yup. White patch.
Beth points to her ring finger.
SARAH
Good spot. Shit, I should of got
that. Where’d I be without you?
 21.

BETH
Either involved in an incredibly
bad affair with a married man, or a
complete stop-at-home internet
addict.
Sarah laughs and throws the screwed up card at Beth... Just
as the waiter returns. He sees the screwed up card, raises
his eyebrows and backs away toward the cafe.
Beth and Sarah look like a couple of naughty schoolgirls.
Unable to hold back any longer they crease up laughing.
FADE OUT.

SUPER: "STALE"

FADE IN:

INT. ELEVATOR - DAY

Colin’s male pattern baldness, spectacles and unfashionable
suit contrasts with a group of younger, cooler executives.
FEMALE EXEC
Mari’s bringing people. Does she
know where we’re going?
Colin looks to a MALE EXEC. Awaits his response.
MALE EXEC
Well, the eternal question. The
Parrot or the Grapes?
Colin muses the choice. Looks to another FEMALE EXEC.
FEMALE EXEC 2
Just make a decision already. I
need to text Maz.
Colin looks to the heavens, a subtle shake of his head.
MALE EXEC
Okay, The Parrot. Do it.
Colin nods. A wise choice. The elevator doors open to an
 22.

OFFICE LOBBY
The execs exit in a breeze of chatter, oblivious. Colin
trudges behind them.
An elderly uniformed doorman smiles at him. Colin smiles,
approaches him, holds out a cardboard box.
COLIN
Some cakes, from the meeting. For
the kids. Thought it a shame to
waste.
The doorman gives him a big smile and takes the box.

EXT. STREET - DAY

Colin strolls past the buzz and chat of bar and restaurant
patios. City types drink, smoke and wind down.
Diners laugh and chat over menus. A waiter carries a tray of
sizzling plates to standees at a barrel table. An expectant
"whooo" from the diners.
The execs from the elevator, under a patio heater, clink
glasses and chat. Colin smiles, watches for a moment.
MALE EXEC
Saw he had the bloody cakes
again... Odd bod. I bet he indexes
his porn collection!
Laughter. Colin, unseen by them, moves away.

EXT. PATIO - DAY

Colin places a pint of beer on a barrel table and turns on a
patio heater. He takes a sip and looks around.
Not the bar, a domestic patio, at the rear of his house.
He steps through patio doors into his dated

LOUNGE
past his old school TV and sofa.
 23.

KITCHEN
Chicken breast, vegetables and gravy sizzle on a stone
plate. Kitchen gloves place it on a tray.

LOUNGE
Colin carries the meal toward his patio. A phone RINGS.
He jumps. The tray wobbles, he tries to grab it, the plate
slides off the tray, hits the sofa. The contents slide down
the back of the cushions.
He turns slowly to the telephone. Looks at it like it’s an
alien object. Takes a tentative step toward it.
A spider’s web stretches from the receiver to the table.
Colin picks it up.
COLIN
Hello?
COLD CALLER (O.S)
(Indian accent)
Hello, is that Mr. Jackson?
COLIN
No, this is Colin.
COLD CALLER (O.S)
Oh, well may I speak with Mr.
Jackson, please?
COLIN
There isn’t a Mr. Jackson. Just me,
Colin.
COLD CALLER (O.S)
Well, Mr. Colin, I’m sorry to
disturb you, good evening --
COLIN
No, that’s okay... Is this call,
um, originating in the U.K?
COLD CALLER (O.S)
Excuse me, sir?
COLIN
Are, are you calling from the U.K.
or from an Indian call centre?
 24.

COLD CALLER (O.S)

Sir, we are based in Mumbai, in
India.
Colin smiles, leans against his wall.
COLIN
Really? What time is it there?
COLD CALLER (O.S)
Sir, it’s just half past eleven.
COLIN
Really? How’s the weather?
COLD CALLER (O.S)
Sir, I’m sorry, I have to make
another call now.
COLIN
Oh... just wondered if monsoon --
Click. The line goes dead. He replaces the receiver.

KITCHEN
Colin opens a cupboard. Rows of cleaning fluids and
polishes, perfect height order.
Clipped to the side, a dustpan and brush, dynotaped "DRY."
Opposite, another set, labelled "WET."

LOUNGE
Colin bends over the sofa. He places items from his meal
into a bin. He takes a sponge from a bowl of soapy water.

KITCHEN
Colin tidies items away. A pair of disposable gloves are
dropped into a bin.
He opens a freezer. Six large Tupperware containers,
individually dynotaped "Sunday" to "Friday."
He removes "Monday" and places it on the table. He opens the
lid. An identical, but frozen chicken and vegetables dinner.
He looks to a calendar. The days of the week are neatly
circled in ink. Today is Sunday.
 25.

He looks to the dinner, considers for a moment. Shakes his

head, replaces the lid, and puts it back in the freezer.
He opens the fridge. Similar containers labelled with each
day of the week.

EXT. COLIN’S FRONT GARDEN - DAY

Colin, in hat, coat and scarf, closes the door and checks it
is locked.
His garden is neat, without extravagance. He bends and picks
up a single leaf that lies on the grass.
A short distance away, a bus shelter. Chunky and Skinny sit
on a bench. Chunky nudges Skinny, nods at Colin.
SKINNY YOUTH
Oy, mate!
Colin, head down. Not again. Ignores them.
SKINNY YOUTH
Oy, mate! I’m talking to ya’.
Chunky passes a cigarette to Skinny. Colin looks up.
SKINNY YOUTH
Get us a pack of fags, will ya’?
COLIN
Sorry?
SKINNY YOUTH
Can-you-get-us-a-packet-of-
cigarettes-please?
COLIN
I’m, I’m not -- I’m going to
dinner.
SKINNY YOUTH
Yeah, well get the fags, and bring
’em back here on ya’ way back. I’ll
give ya’ the dosh later.
Chunky looks away as he sniggers.
COLIN
Okay.
 26.

SKINNY YOUTH
Don’t be long. I wanna get a bus
before they finish.
Colin walks past the youths at a pace. Laughter behind him.

INT. INDIAN RESTAURANT - DAY

Colin walks into a cosy but garishly coloured reception
area. An INDIAN WAITER, 59, smiles at him, a bit puzzled.
INDIAN WAITER
Hello, my friend. How are you?
COLIN
(smiles nervously)
I’m good. Fine thank you.
INDIAN WAITER
I wasn’t expecting you until next
Saturday. Two nights in a row. What
do we owe this pleasure?
COLIN
Oh, you can’t live life to a strict
routine, can you?
The waiter raises his eyebrows. A tight lipped smile.
COLIN
Sorry, do you have a table?
INDIAN WAITER
Just for...
The waiter holds up a single finger.
COLIN
Yes.
INDIAN WAITER
It’s Sunday, it’s quiet. We can
always accommodate you, my friend.
He leads Colin to a table in the almost empty restaurant.
INDIAN WAITER
The usual?
Colin considers for a moment.
 27.

COLIN
Yes, I think so.
The waiter nods.
INDIAN WAITER
Very well.
He smiles and exits. Colin drums his fingers nervously on
the table. He stares at a picture on the wall.
He unrolls his napkin, refolds it. Drums his fingers on the
table, scratches his bald head, looks at his watch.
Fingers drum nervously on the table.
He stands up, walks toward the exit.
INDIAN WAITER(O.S)
My friend?
Colin turns to him.
COLIN
I’ll be back in a minute. Well,
five or so, to be more accurate.
INDIAN MAN
(puzzled)
Okay. It’s no problem.
Colin exits to the

STREET
and walks at a pace into a

NEWSAGENTS
A young Goth-lite female ASSISTANT.
COLIN
A packet of cigarettes, please.
ASSISTANT
You what?
COLIN
Um, a packet of cigarettes?
 28.

ASSISTANT
Duh, which ones?
She sarcastically holds up her hand to indicate the
multitude of brands behind her.
COLIN
Oh, yes, I see. Um...
He looks at them, studying the various labels and logos.
COLIN
Which are the best?
ASSISTANT
The best?
COLIN
Which are most popular? With young
folk?
She hands him a packet of 20 "Bastards."
COLIN
Thank you.
He heads for the exit.
ASSISTANT
Whatever.
Colin almost pauses.

STREET
At a pace past shops.
He cuts down an alleyway, like an Olympic speed walker. He
turns into a residential street and sees the bus shelter.
A bus pulls up. The number: 41.
COLIN
Wait!
Not hearing, the youths get on the bus. Colin breaks into a
jog toward them. The doors close, the bus pulls away.
He stops, holds the cigarettes up as it pulls away.
He turns to his house, looks back the way he just came. In
two minds which way to go. He looks fed up.
 29.

A door opens on his neighbours house. An IRISH MAN, 29,

peers out. He holds a letter in his hand.
IRISH MAN
Colin?
COLIN
Yes.
IRISH MAN
Thought so. The postman put this
through the wrong door.
He hands Colin a letter. It’s been opened.
COLIN
Oh, thank you.
Colin looks up.
COLIN
Sorry, I didn’t get your name --
The man has turned away to his door. He doesn’t stop. Colin
waves to the man’s back as he enters his house.
Colin puts the letter and cigarettes in his pocket and walks
away from his house.

EXT. INDIAN RESTAURANT - DAY

A large tourist bus idles outside the restaurant. Colin eyes
it suspiciously. He opens the restaurant door and peers in.
It is now packed. The tables are chock-full of German
speaking tourists. Some stand at the small bar area, several
waiting staff buzz around the tables, serving drinks.
The Indian Waiter hands out menus at the far end of the
restaurant. He sees Colin.
Colin gives a half wave. The waiter shrugs his shoulders,
holds out his hands apologetically. Indicates no space.
Colin waves it away and smiles. He exits the restaurant.
An ELDERLY TRAMP shuffles past. He smiles at Colin.
ELDERLY TRAMP
Haven’t got a spare ciggie, have
you, son?
 30.

COLIN
I don’t know, I haven’t lived all
my life yet.
ELDERLY TRAMP
You what?
COLIN
(smiles apologetically)
Just joking. Rita Rudner. Sorry, I
don’t -- Hold on.
Colin remembers. He reaches into his pocket and takes out
the "Bastards" and hands them to the surprised Tramp.
ELDERLY TRAMP
Bless ya, son. You’re a real gent.
Colin reaches back into his pocket and takes out the letter.
He pulls it from the envelope.
COLIN (V.O)
"Dear Sir, thank you for taking the
time to register with our agency,
and your recent query. As discussed
at your interview, our organisation
prides itself on the ’human touch’
and hands on expertise of our
highly trained professionals. On
occasion, this leads to periods
where we are unable to find a
suitable date for some time.
Despite this, we acknowledge that
four months is longer than we would
expect to find a match. Please find
enclosed your cheque for forty five
pounds. This represents your
registration fee and initial six
months membership. Should you have
any..."
Colin reaches into the envelope. It’s empty. He drops it to
the floor. He holds the palms of his hands to his eyes, as
if he has a migraine.
He remains still for a moment. He moves his hands away. A
look of clarity. A decision made.
 31.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Colin carries a shopping bag toward his house. He glances at
the empty bus shelter.
Two leaves lie on his lawn. He bends and picks them up.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Colin’s microwave pings. He takes out a plastic tray
containing a poor imitation of his prepped dinners.
He spoons the food onto a plate and sits down to eat.

LATER
Colin stares at his calendar. He takes a red pen and circles
Friday. (5 days away.)
He opens a cupboard, takes out a Tupperware container and
dynotapes a label "Friday."
He takes his shopping bag and removes a large bottle of
vodka. He places it in the "Friday" container.
A pause. He takes a box of tablets from the bag.
INSERT: Tablets box "PARACETAMOL"
They join the vodka. More boxes, different brands of
paracetamol are placed in the container.
He affixes the lid, and places it in the fridge. Walks past
the calendar and turns out the light.

INT. OFFICE FLOOR - DAY

Colin sits in a cubicle. One of countless uniform cubicles
in a vast office. He fills in cells on a spreadsheet.
A young manager, WALLACE, 29, leans over his cubicle wall.
Looks disdainfully at Colin.
WALLACE
I need your report on the Cartaino
account wrapped by Monday.
COLIN
Monday won’t be a problem, Mr.
Wallace.
 32.

WALLACE
Good. I liked the redraft of the
Chironi account. You know, you
could be quite the business man...
If you just got some balls.
He walks away. Colin looks at his desk. Immaculate and
orderly. He straightens a single pencil next to his PC.
A hand passes over a thick file of papers from the
neighbouring cubicle.
MARI (O.S)
(Dutch accent)
Don’t let him bug you, Colin.
Colin takes the file.
COLIN
I won’t.
MARI (O.S)
The Hale business plan. As always,
your figures, projections, all spot
on. Good job.
COLIN
Thank you, Mari.
A tiny moment of pleasure for Colin.
MARI, 28, super cute, peers into Colin’s cubicle. She wears
a fashionable, boyish blue suit
MARI
You should be running this place.
Keep up the good --
She looks away, distracted. A big smile appears on her face.
MARI
Ooh, look who’s back.
Mari paces off past rows of cubicles.
Colin looks disappointed. He stares at his spreadsheets.
Drums his fingers on the desk for a moment.
From across the far side of the office, a commotion.
SHOUTING MAN (O.S)
That’s my fucking girlfriend! My
fucking girlfriend!
 33.

People stand up in the adjoining cubicles. Colin bows his

head and taps nervously on his keyboard.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Colin takes the container marked "Monday" from the freezer.
He opens the fridge and takes out some juice. He looks at
the "Friday" container.

PATIO
He stands at his table, under the heater. Sips his juice. A
melodramatic, slightly cheesy play on his radio.
FEMALE VOICE ON RADIO
(Indian accent)
"And when you think back to the
years, months, days and each
minute, do you think they were
worth it?"
MALE VOICE ON RADIO
(English Accent)
"Worth it? I rate every second of
being of the utmost importance."
FEMALE VOICE ON RADIO
"And on that day, that fateful day,
when you boarded the train as it
pulled out of Bombay Station... You
don’t regret anything?"
MALE VOICE ON RADIO
"When I saw the train, I just knew.
When I took you in my arms, my kiss
was the outpouring of my soul. I
knew I could die right there, my
life complete and full. Full of a
unique love."
Some light Indian music plays.
CONTINUITY MAN ON RADIO
"And Roti and Rye by Pat Patel
concludes on Sunday at five
o’clock. This play was adapted for
the radio by Ted --"
Colin clicks the radio off. Dismissive, above that. He
allows himself a smile, a moments consideration.
 34.

It’s replaced by sobs. He puts his hands to his face and

cries his eyes out.
Through patio doors, the calendar, Friday circled in red.

MONTAGE - COLIN’S LAST DAYS

-- Circles Tuesday on the calendar.
-- Drops a box of indexed porn DVD’s into a wheely bin.
-- Rides the bus to work, reads a book.
-- Opens "Wednesday’s" container and removes his frozen
dinner.
-- Reads on the bus. Closes the last page with a satisfied
smile. Places the book behind his seat. It’s "Roti and Rye."
-- Opens freezer. Looks at "Thursday’s" container. Short
pause. Closes freezer and exits kitchen.
-- Out of his house in hat, coat and scarf.
-- Walks into the Indian Restaurant. The Indian waiter holds
up his arms, surprised to see him.
-- Colin tucks into a feast of Indian cuisine.
-- Shakes the waiter by the hand as he exits.
-- The waiter clears his table. Lifts and opens the menu. A
few hundred pounds in twenties fall out. He’s shocked.

EXT. BUS STOP - DAY

Colin gets off a bus at the stop by his house. Skinny and
Chunky sit on his garden wall, smoking.
Colin sees them. They see Colin.
CHUNKY YOUTH
What happened to our fags?
SKINNY YOUTH
Yeah, our fags.
COLIN
(ambivalent)
You can’t hurt me any more. There’s
nothing you can do.
 35.

The youths look at each other, puzzled. Shocked.

Skinny jumps up, grabs Colin by the lapels and pushes him
against the conifer bushes. He leans in close.
Colin is no longer ambivalent.
SKINNY YOUTH
I can fuckin’ hurt ya’, ya’ cheeky
twat. I can fuckin’ hurt ya’.
He twists Colin’s shirt, strangling him. Buttons pop.
Chunky takes two paces back to the pavement. Keeps watch.
COLIN
Wait, wait. You want cigarettes?
Come and see me on Saturday.
SKINNY YOUTH
Whatcha’ mean, Saturday? Saturday’s
no good. I asked you a week a-
fuckin-go.
Colin breathes rapidly. Scared. He glances over Skinny’s
shoulder, momentarily distracted by a leaf on his lawn.
COLIN
(unconvincing)
Um, a chap at work. He’s just um,
won a lot of cigarettes, in a
competition.
SKINNY YOUTH
You what?
COLIN
He doesn’t smoke. So I said I’d
take them off his hands. They’re
yours.
SKINNY YOUTH
(believing, warming)
Yeah? That’s a bit mad. Fuckin’
fair play to ya’, mate.
(magnanimous)
That’s good of ya’, mate.
He lets go of Colin’s shirt and straightens his tie.
SKINNY YOUTH
Now, carry on. I’ll see you
Saturday, for me fags. Or you’re
fuckin’ dead.
 36.

Colin nods his understanding. Enters his house.

INT. NEWSAGENTS - DAY

The Goth-lite assistant looks up at Colin.
COLIN
Twenty Bastards, please.
She reaches behind her, takes a pack and rings it up.
ASSISTANT
Five forty three.
COLIN
"Whatever."
Mimicking her from earlier. He takes them and walks out.
ASSISTANT
Hey!
The assistant is dumbfounded.

EXT. BUS STOP - DAY

Colin ensures he’s alone. He sprinkles the cigarettes at his
feet and joyfully stomps them. He twists, 60’s style, grinds
them to the bus shelter floor. A satisfied smile.

INT. KITCHEN - DAY

He circles Friday on his calendar, turns to the fridge, and
without ceremony removes the "Friday" container.

INT. LOUNGE - DAY

He sits on his sofa. In front of him is a coffee table. The
bottle of vodka, a small glass and neat rows of tablets.
He switches on his radio, classical music. He pours a glass
of vodka, pops a pill into his mouth and takes a sip. A
slightly disappointed smile as he swallows another pill.
The neat row of pills shows eight missing. He takes another
and pours another vodka. Another pill, another sip.
The telephone RINGS. Colin freezes, pill midway toward his
mouth. He looks at the telephone, looks at his pills.
 37.

He stares at the telephone as he pours another drink.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

INT. PUB - DAY

SUPER: AUTUMN 1999
A typical working class pub. Browns and beiges. Four stools
at the bar. A few tables. Beth and Sarah look distinctly out
of place in their business suits.
SARAH
This better be the best gin and
tonic ever poured.
She takes a sip.
SARAH
No, distinctly below average. Why
are we in "The Oak" again?
She holds up a beer mat with the words "The Oak."
BETH
A, It’s close to my office. B, the
drinks are incredibly cheap. And C,
it’s quiet. Easy to talk.
Sarah looks around. They are alone.
SARAH
Yup, no chance of anybody
ear-wiggin’. This must be the
world’s loneliest pub. Didn’t your
dad used to come here?
Beth gives a half hearted smile.
SARAH
Oh -- You’re still on for the
weekend?
BETH
Oh, yeah. Definitely.
SARAH
Good. If it wasn’t for you I’d
never leave the house. Or the
office... Why we here again?
 38.

BETH
’Cause it’s cheap and I’m paying?
SARAH
I’m sorry, hon’. You still quiet?
BETH
I expected it for the, first few
months. But, I dunno. Just real
quiet.
SARAH
I won’t say "I told you so."
BETH
What, because you didn’t?
SARAH
Yes, there is that, but in
retrospect, isn’t this all done on
the internet nowadays?
BETH
Well, maybe. But some computer
generated results are never going
to compete with --
SARAH
Your mad skills?
BETH
Yeah, who was it who said everybody
is good at one thing?
SARAH
You hear Yazmin and Tim are getting
married?
Beth nods.
BETH
What can I say?
SARAH
You certainly do have a talent.
BETH
This is true. But not for us, eh?
A moment of silence.
 39.

BETH
I haven’t had a single customer
today.
SARAH
Tell me again about your marketing?
BETH
Well, you know, I’m just generally
putting myself out there.
SARAH
Oh okay... Don’t go into that much
detail.
BETH
(smiles)
Sorry, I’m just a bit distracted
with the whole thing. It’s on my
mind twenty four seven, then I get
these moments of clarity and it’s
like -- What the fuck am I doing?
SARAH
Okay -- That’s not clarity, that’s
negativity. Are you making money?
BETH
Some. Just sort of paying the bills
at the mo’.
SARAH
Are you enjoying it? I mean, how
long did you want to do this?
BETH
An age.
SARAH
And now you’re there, in that
office, no boss, is it what you
want?
BETH
I don’t know. I mean, I’m fine with
my own company, and I know you’re
on the end of my speed dial...
SARAH
But not the same as just turning
around and having someone to chat
with.
 40.

BETH
Yeah, damn it. Never thought I’d
miss all those arses.
SARAH
When you’re a success, you’ll be
employing your own arses.
BETH
Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
An ELDERLY BARMAN appears like a spectre behind the bar.
Beth smiles at him. He stares back, the faintest of smiles.
BETH
Quiet for a lunchtime?
ELDERLY BARMAN
It’s always quiet. Lunchtime,
dinnertime, any time.
BETH
I’m sure things will pick up later.
ELDERLY BARMAN
I doubt it.
He shuffles off.
SARAH
There you go. Head hunt him for the
business. Your first employee.
BETH
I don’t think so, but I might give
him a card. He looks like he needs
some encouragement.
SARAH
He needs something... Oh, if you
do, I’ll disown you forever.
BETH
Can’t be too choosy.
SARAH
Yes. Yes you can. Think of your
female clientèle.
She reaches into a bag at her feet.
 41.

SARAH
I’ve got a present for you. Promise
you won’t and it’s yours.
BETH
Ohhh, pressies. Cool. Promise.
SARAH
Okay. Going back to our earlier
conversation. It’s all about
marketing. So, me and the guys had
a little buzz session, and...
Sarah holds up a sheet of paper.
Beth puts her drink down. She looks shocked.
BETH
You did that, for me?
Sarah nods.
SARAH
We also pulled a few favours with
the Express. They owe us some love.
They’re running it for the next two
weeks.
Beth puts her hands to her face.
Sarah drops the sheet of paper to the table, gets up and
hugs Beth.
BETH
(crying)
Thank you. You’re beautiful.
The sheet shows an advert. A big red heart with the caption:
"LOVE MATTERS."
Sarah hugs her tight.
The Elderly Barman shakes his head, behind the bar.
ELDERLY BARMAN
Women.
He raises his eyebrows.
FADE OUT.
 42.

SUPER: "THE GREATEST THING SINCE..."

FADE IN:

INT. OFFICE FLOOR - DAY

Rows of cubicle based workers hunched over keyboards. Each
cubicle a carbon copy of the last. Except for one.
Pictures of a pretty twenty-something girl. Polaroids,
photo-booth and studio shots. Excessive, but not obsessive.
The rear of Andy’s curly mop of hair. He leans forward
slightly, talks over the top of his screen to an unseen
cubicle beyond.
ANDY
... it’s like pop tarts. Where did
they come from? What did we do
before them? All of a sudden it was
1990 and we had a market for
toaster pastries? In America
they’re eating two billion a year.
You know they dropped two million
on Afghanistan at the start of the
war? What’s that about?
An employee walks by. Andy turns to see who it is, revealing
his friendly, stubbly, slightly tired face.
Turns back, his eyes come alive.
ANDY
But I’m losing my train of... What
was I saying..? I got my one shot,
my big pitch coming up... and oh,
yeah. Something new on the market.
Create your own niche product. Red
Bull style. People always want
something new, quirky. Doesn’t
matter what it is. And you know
what else they want?
He stands up to lean over the divider. There’s nobody there.
ANDY
(to self)
They want something different.
He slumps back in his chair. Looks at the photo of his girl.
 43.

Mari, in super short skirt, knocks on his cubicle wall. Mari

bears a slight resemblance to the girl in Andy’s photos.
MARI
(Dutch accent)
Not long to your vacation now,
Andy.
ANDY
We call them holidays. But yeah,
Will be good.
MARI
(smiles)
Any exciting plans?
ANDY
Well, you know...
MARI
I was thinking, if you’re bored, we
could catch a movie or something...
ANDY
(unconvincing)
Well, I’m sort of, I’m going away.
MARI
(suddenly cold)
Oh. You never said. You kept that
quiet.
ANDY
Yeah, L.A. See her parents.
He nods at the pictures on his cubicle wall.
ANDY
Didn’t want to show off, you know?
Yeah, a whole week in the Sunshine
State.
MARI
Golden State.
ANDY
(smiling)
What?
MARI
It’s the Golden State. Florida’s
the sunshine State.
 44.

ANDY
Is it?
MARI
Yeah? Jeez, haven’t you been
studying your guidebook?
ANDY
Yeah, but I think I’ll be okay
without my State nicknames.
MARI
How is Juliane?
She looks to the pictures on the desk. Andy looks
uncomfortable.
ANDY
Yeah, yeah... So, a holiday, but
maybe a bit of business too.
MARI
(sarcastic)
Really? What is it this time? A new
concept in pies?
ANDY
No... That wasn’t a well thought
out idea. But seriously, I set up a
pitch meeting with a massive
company. My new concept in --
Wallace walks by, clip-board in hand.
WALLACE
Mother’s meeting? You do know we’ve
got head honchos in this week? We
need all hands to the grindstone.
ANDY
I know. It’s work related --
WALLACE
Well good. We all need to crack on.
Pacifically we need the Cartaino
account boxed off.
ANDY
Yes, we know. Our ’pacific’ problem
seems to be keeping the printer
working for more than a single day.
Mari thaws a little, amused.
 45.

WALLACE
Yes, well, let’s crack on.
Wallace exits with a spin of his clipboard.
ANDY
Why does nobody wanna listen?
A moment. Mari, concerned.
MARI
Hey, you know where I am, you wanna
talk. Okay?
Andy, embarrassed or nervous? Tight lipped smile. Back to
his PC. Mari walks away.

LATER
Andy taps his keyboard. Fills figures into columns on a
spreadsheet. He takes a quick glance around, plugs in a
memory stick. Another quick glance over his shoulder.

INT. PUB - DAY

Andy sits at a corner table of a cheap pub with a notebook.
a pint and a packet of crisps. Takes a sip of his pint.
INSERT: notepad
"To do list. 1 - SORT PITCH!! 2 - Pay bills?! 3 - ’vacation
shopping. 4 - Flowers for Juliane.’
He looks at his watch.
ANDY
Shit!
He downs his pint and walks out at a pace.

INT. OFFICE FLOOR - DAY

Wallace leans over Andy’s desk. Andy enters. Sees Wallace.
ANDY
Bollocks!
He approaches. Wallace studies the pictures, turns to Andy.
 46.

WALLACE
(checks his watch)
Extended lunch breaks?
ANDY
Five minutes. Come on, when did you
ever see me leave on time?
WALLACE
Um, Yesterday?
ANDY
Okay, that was an exception.
WALLACE
Moving forward, as best practise
dictates, observe stricter
time-keeping.
ANDY
Yup. Best practise. Will do.
Andy slides dejectedly into his chair. Mari passes by, taps
on his cubicle.
MARI
(sings)
"Andy’s in trouble, Andy’s in
trouble!"
Andy smiles at Mari, but can’t hold her gaze.
ANDY
Yeah, like I’m scared of wanky
Wallace.
MARI
So, anyway. A bunch of us cool kids
are going to the Parrot or the
Grapes for drinks after work. You
coming?
ANDY
I’m not really drinking at the
moment. Plus I got shit loads to
do.
MARI
(surprised)
Not drinking? You seeing Juliane,
or up to some crazy scheming?
 47.

ANDY
Kind of a combination of the two.
MARI
Like your exercise bike/electricity
generator..?
Andy grimaces and looks to the heavens. They both smile.
MARI
Okay, your loss. I got a "free
short with a pint" voucher.
Mari presents a voucher like a game show assistant. It shows
a short and a pint. Andy looks at it. Takes it from Mari.
MARI
So I’ll see you there?
ANDY
Let me work my five I owe Wallace,
and I’ll catch up.
MARI
Yay!
She snatches the voucher back and scribbles on the back.
MARI
My new number. I’ll let you know
which one we’re in.
She smiles and holds up two thumbs.

LATER
The office empties. People exit with coats and bags.
Mari walks past Andy, pokes his chair.
MARI
Shall I hang on for you?
ANDY
No, it’s okay. Be there in a
minute.
Andy smiles. Sees Wallace walking toward him.
Andy turns back to his spreadsheet. Wallace puts a hand on
his shoulder as he passes.
 48.

WALLACE
Wheel stone, Andy, the wheel stone.
Andy shakes his head. Wallace follows the other staff. Andy
looks around. Alone, he plugs in his memory stick.
INSERT: Computer screen "BUSINESS PLAN/PITCH"
He places his drinks voucher on a table clock. Reads:
5.12pm. He types. Words appear on screen.

LATER
He pauses. Clicks save.
He takes the voucher from the clock. Reads: 8.15pm.
ANDY
Oh.
He retrieves his memory stick.

EXT. CITY BUILDING - NIGHT

Andy checks his watch. Sees a bus coming toward him. The 41.
A moment of decision. He flags the bus, and jumps on.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Andy walks past broken down buildings and factories.
The last lonely house on the edge of town. He turns a key in
the lock.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

A single bare bulb lights the hall. Shoes and trainers lay
strewn along the misplaced carpet tiles.
An overflowing recycle box of wine and beer bottles.
He kicks off his shoes, drops his bag and enters the
 49.

LOUNGE
Papers, files, charts and graphs cover the floor. Post-its,
charts, and business cards are plastered to the walls.
Against one wall, stacks of hundreds of newspapers. Some
bound, many loose, flow onto the carpet.
A computer desk in a corner, stacked deep in papers, empty
wine bottles and overflowing ash trays.
He takes a seat, and boots up his PC. He opens a bottle of
wine and pours a glass. Inserts his memory stick.
Checks his mobile phone.
INSERT: Mobile phone screen -- "4 missed calls"
ANDY
Bollocks.
He sighs, clicks DELETE, and looks at his monitor.
INSERT: Computer screen "BUSINESS PLAN/PITCH"
He takes a sip of wine, and types: "CRUSTS."

INT. LOUNGE - DAY

Sun filters in through chinks in the curtains.
A tongue on parched, wine stained lips. Andy opens his eyes.
ANDY
Bollocks!
He jumps up, two empty bottles of wine fall off his lap and
CLATTER on the floor. He jumps at the noise.

BATHROOM
It’s a wreck. Loo roll tubes, bottles of shampoo, an old
dingy shower curtain.
Andy strips off. Throws his shirt and suit on the wooden
floor. Turns the shower on, steps into the water.
ANDY
F-f-fuck that’s cold.
 50.

He grabs a pip of soap and tries to manufacture a lather.

His pits get a soaping, and he splashes his face with water
before venturing south.
Jumps out, wraps a hand towel around himself and into a

BEDROOM
in need of an industrial tidy up. He looks in a cupboard. A
few metal hangers and a football shirt.
He lifts a white shirt from a laundry basket. Sniffs it,
turns his nose up.

BATHROOM
He looks at his crumpled shirt and suit on the floor. Picks
it up.

INT. OFFICE FLOOR - DAY

Andy enters the rows of cubicles.
He looks like he spent the night drunk in a computer chair
and came to work in those clothes. Mari walks past.
MARI
You okay? Wallace is on one.
Andy grimaces. Heads for his desk. He sits down, stares at
the pictures of his girl. His clock shows: 9.23am.
A calendar lands on his desk. He turns around.
WALLACE
You know what that is?
Andy picks it up. Looks at the space shuttle picture.
ANDY
The geekiest calendar ever?
WALLACE
It’s a calendar.
ANDY
Okay...
 51.

WALLACE
You may note, your holiday doesn’t
start until seventeen hundred hours
on Friday.
ANDY
Okay, look, I’m sorry I’m late. I
was stuck here until late last
night. I just overslept.
WALLACE
You look like it.
ANDY
What can I say? I need this break.
WALLACE
Yes you do. I’ll be looking for a
marked improvement in your
attitude, work rate and time
keeping upon your return. Your
tardiness is out of control.
Andy looks to the heavens.
WALLACE
It seems the more hours you’re
here, the less work you’re doing.
Have your final work on the
Cartaino account prepped for this
arvo’. I’m meeting with the
directors and they may spin in that
direction.
Wallace struts off. Andy rests his head on his desk as he
boots up his PC.

LATER
He checks his clock. 1.08pm. He stands up, looks across to
the furthest cubicles. Mari stands by her desk.
Andy looks from Mari to the pictures of his girl. A moments
thought. He takes out his wallet. A solitary five pound
note. A shake of his head. No.
He gets up and heads for the exit.
 52.

INT. PUB - DAY

Andy, at the bar. The BARMAN hands him a pint.
ANDY
Thanks. Can I use this?
The voucher for a free short. The Barman smiles.
BARMAN
That’s not really for daytime --
He looks at Andy. Pauses, a hint of pity.
BARMAN
Keep it. What can I get you?
Andy smiles and pockets the voucher.

LATER
Andy sits alone. His table is covered with sheets of paper.
He sketches, screws it up and puts it to one side.
Checks his watch, downs his pint and gathers his papers into
his briefcase.

INT. OFFICE FLOOR - DAY

Andy at his cubicle. Mari taps the side wall.
MARI
Hey.
ANDY
Hey... Sorry I didn’t make it last
night...
Waves her hand and shakes her head.
MARI
No worries. Another time... You all
packed and ready to go?
ANDY
What’s that?
MARI
For your trip?
 53.

ANDY
Oh yeah. Just a bit of shopping on
the way home. Last minute supplies.
I can’t wait to get out of here...
MARI
Yeah, and you’ve got Wallace out of
your hair this afternoon.
She nods toward Wallace, who escorts a group of austere
looking directors into a glass windowed boardroom.
ANDY
Shit, yeah.
He cups his hand to his mouth and addresses the cubicles.
ANDY
(slightly louder)
All hands to the wheel stone, gang!
No larking around or horseplay
today. We don’t tolerate tardiness!
The other workers carry on as if nobody is there.
Andy shrugs, Mari laughs.
ANDY
I wonder if anybody would object to
me machine gunning him to death?
MARI
Do you no anybody more than two
cubicles away?
Andy thinks of a retort. Nothing. A moment of silence.
MARI
I best go fiddle with the printer
some more. Have a good holiday,
Andy.
ANDY
Thank you. I will.

LATER
The office has emptied. Andy checks his clock. 5.08pm He
looks over at the boardroom.
Wallace, animated as he conducts a presentation to the
directors.
 54.

Andy looks at his screen.

INSERT: COMPUTER SCREEN -- BUSINESS PLAN. (CRUSTS)
He clicks print. "PRINT 46 pages?" He clicks "YES."
Mari walks by with a toner cartridge.
ANDY
Still here?
MARI
Yeah. Print-mare. I’ve hooked the
network to the boardroom printer,
so don’t send anything to --
ANDY
You’re joking. Please, you’re
fucking joking.
Mari looks worried.
MARI
No, Wallace needed the T’s and C’s
on the --
ANDY
Fucking hell!
Andy looks through to Wallace. Mari follows his gaze.
Wallace looks distracted, as do the directors who look to a
printer churning out sheets.

BOARDROOM
Andy opens the door and walks in. Wallace, shocked, pauses
his spiel.
ANDY
Apologies. Just grab these.
The printer churns pages out at the foot of the board table.
Some directors crane their necks toward the pages as they
slide onto the desk.
The printer stops. Andy squares them together.
Wallace watches him, open mouthed. Uncomfortable silence.
Andy pulls the printer tray open. Empty. He grabs a stack of
printer paper and drops it in the tray.
 55.

He stands in silence as more pages slide out.

Wallace and the directors stare at him.
ANDY
Please, carry on.
He gathers the last page from the printer and exits.

EXT. STREET - DAY

Andy stands at a bus stop, laden with shopping bags. A 41
pulls to a stop. The contents of Andy’s bags CLINK as he
boards the

BUS
The Bearded Driver smiles at him.
DRIVER
Not in a rush I hope?
ANDY
What’s that?
DRIVER
Not in a rush? There’s been an
accident, apparently. Up on Hill
Street.
Andy looks pale. Blank. He stares at the driver.
ANDY
Accident...
Andy looks overly concerned.
DRIVER
Just heard on my radio. Bus in
front. Gonna get backed up a bit, I
reckon. A crash, they said.
Andy just stares. Licks his lips. He steps off the bus.
DRIVER
(shouts after him)
Still quicker than walking!
Andy’s gone. The Driver shrugs and pulls away.
 56.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Andy trudges to his front door, laden with his bags. He
rests them on the floor and fishes out his keys.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Andy unloads his supplies. Twenty or so bottles of red wine.
He opens one, pours a taster. He looks shook up. Exhausted.
ANDY
I’m sorry, Juliane.
He sips.

MONTAGE - ANDY’S HOLIDAY

-- Sits down at his desk with a glass of wine.
-- A computer screen: CRUSTS BUSINESS PLAN.
-- Walks around room, sticks post-its to various surfaces.
-- Wakes up at his desk, face on keyboard.
-- In dressing gown, reads: "The Perfect Pitch."
-- Scrawls words on a whiteboard. Taps on a calculator.
-- Staggers around lounge drunk, pulls charts from the wall
screws them up.
-- collapses onto the stacks of newspapers and passes out.

INT. LOUNGE - DAY

Andy wakes with a start. Looks at his whiteboard: "PITCH
MEETING, DON’T BE LATE!"
He looks at his watch, can’t believe the time. He puts his
head in hands and collapses back on the floor.

INT. OFFICE FLOOR - DAY

Andy’s walks dejectedly past cubicles.
MARI (O.S)
Hey, stranger!
 57.

Andy turns, Mari walks across the office toward him. She
wears the fashionable, boyish blue suit.
ANDY
Hello, Mari.
MARI
How was the trip? The pitch?
ANDY
Oh... You know... Okay.
MARI
Where’s the tan?
They walk past the rows of cubicles as they talk.
ANDY
Oh, you know. Too hot to sunbathe.
Spent most the time inside.
Shopping, with friends, in cars.
You know?
MARI
No beach time? Anyway, you look,
um, rested.
ANDY
Yeah, I needed the break.
Andy’s desk. Cleared of all photos.
ANDY
Where’re my pictures?
MARI
Oh yeah. Wallace went nuts over
your last day print job. Instigated
a "clear deck policy."
ANDY
(too loud)
What the fuck? That’s his words,
right? Almost as if it’s a real,
regular used phrase?
Wallace walks over to Andy and Mari.
WALLACE
Andrew, good to see you back, and
on time --
 58.

ANDY
Where’re my pictures.
WALLACE
Ah, yes. As a business we decided
that online with company
regulations, a clear deck policy --
ANDY
(fuming)
Where are my fucking pictures!
Mari and Wallace stare at Andy.
WALLACE
They’re quite safe. I, I, I merely
put them in my office.
ANDY
That’s my fucking girlfriend! My
fucking girlfriend! Get me my
fucking pictures!
Tears well in Andy’s eyes. Wallace is frightened. He walks
away.
MARI
Andy --
ANDY
No.
He stalks after Wallace without saying a word.

EXT. CITY BUILDING - DAY

Andy exits the building. He clutches a shoe box to his side.
Mari runs out after him.
MARI
Andy, wait!
He pauses, turns around.
ANDY
I’m sorry. I’ve had it with that
place. I just need to be alone.
MARI
Are you drunk?
 59.

ANDY
What? I -- Fuck off.
MARI
Yeah? I’m not blind you know? What
are you doing?
ANDY
Nothing --
MARI
Yeah? Well first off do yourself a
favour. Find somebody to talk to,
on the alcohol. Someone to help.
ANDY
Look, I’ve had enough, that’s all.
What do you want?
MARI
You to get real. And maybe ask me
out? For fuck’s sake I’ve been
leaving enough hints.
ANDY
(shocked)
But, I’m already in a --
MARI
Don’t give me more lies, Andy. I
know about Juliane. I knew all
along. I’m so sorry, Andy, but I
read all about it.
A moment. Andy looks at his shoes.
MARI
I know what happened.
ANDY
Why didn’t you say anything?
MARI
It wasn’t for me to. I saw you in
the supermarket, a few months ago.
Buying up all those newspapers. You
looked so serious. I was worried
for you. I went to a newsagents
down the road, to see the papers.
They were all gone. The guy told me
someone had come in and bought them
all. It was you.
Andy’s gaze returns to his shoes.
 60.

MARI
I know what you were trying to
hide. It makes no sense... And why?
You think any of them are
interested in your life?
She jabs a thumb over her shoulder at the building.
MARI
You don’t have to hide anything...
Also it wasn’t your fault. It said
the other driver was drunk.
ANDY
I was drunk. Okay? I was drunk and
I was at the wheel.
Mari looks shocked, and puzzled.
ANDY
Stopped, at some lights. He came
out of nowhere. Three witnesses.
They didn’t even breathalyse me. So
there it is. Both drivers drunk...
Yet I walk away without a scratch
or blame. How is that?
MARI
You can’t blame yourself.
ANDY
Yes I can. I’m to blame.
Andy turns and walks away. Mari shakes her head.
MARI
(shouts after him)
Crusts, eh? The new big plan?
That’s you. Just an outside layer
-- a barrier, letting nobody in. I
just wonder if there’s anything on
the inside.
Andy barely breaks stride.

INT. LOUNGE - DAY

Andy walks straight to a bottle of wine on his desk. He
upends it in a stained glass and downs it.
He staggers over to the pile of newspapers. He sits down on
them. The headlines stare back at him.
 61.

INSERT: Newspaper "American killed by drunk driver.

Boyfriend survives."
Andy picks up a paper, he pulls the cover off, screws it up
and throws it. He takes another, repeats, throws the
coverless paper to the floor. And another, and another.
FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

SUPER: WINTER 1998
Beth and Sarah dressed in black, sit on a bench. Frosty
breath, leaves around their feet.
Beth’s eyes are red. She’s been crying.
SARAH
Ciggy?
Sarah takes a pack out of her bag.
BETH
You don’t smoke any more.
SARAH
I know. Thought you might want one.
Beth glances at the gravestones.
BETH
Not inappropriate, here?
SARAH
Suppose so.
She puts them in her handbag. Beth takes them out.
BETH
Go on. They won’t mind.
She lights the cigarette. Coughs.
BETH
One vice dad didn’t care for. I
wonder if I get it from my mum.
 62.

SARAH
Did she smoke?
BETH
Don’t know. I think Dad said she
used to. Before she met him. I bet
she started again soon after.
A moment of silence. Beth looks at her lit cigarette.
SARAH
You ever wonder why he never
married again?
Beth shrugs. Sarah lights her own cigarette.
BETH
Who’d have him? I mean, don’t get
me wrong, I loved him -- love him.
But he wasn’t an easy person to
know.
She takes a drag. Coughs a little.
BETH
He was a loner. Liked his own
company. Telly, pub, an occasional
doomed romance. That’s all he
needed. I think... maybe that’s all
he wanted.
SARAH
And you. You were important to him.
BETH
Suppose. He just wasn’t cut out for
fatherhood -- any social
relationship really. He didn’t get
on with his sister, no friends to
speak of. Without those basics, all
romances were doomed.
SARAH
There was your mum. He had to woo
her at some point.
BETH
Must have caught him on a good
year.
SARAH
Moved on on a bad one?
 63.

BETH
Yup. Didn’t have the basics. If he
could forget to speak to me for a
month, how would he treat her?
They both take a drag of their cigarettes.
BETH
I don’t know why he just gave up.
There’s a whole world out there.
Why just decide to live on your
sofa?
SARAH
(hint of a smile)
Dunno. I’m surprised you’re not
more fucked up than you are.
BETH
It’s cause I hang out with
fuck-ups.
She elbows Sarah. Takes a look at her watch.
BETH
I’m not looking forward to the
wake. Don’t suppose I can just
bugger off.
SARAH
You are joking.
BETH
Yeah. I’d rather see some random
aunties than those arses at work.
Seriously.
SARAH
Still thinking about leaving?
BETH
Thinking? I draft my resignation
letter in my sleep.
SARAH
Still thinking about running your
own business?
Beth nods.
SARAH
Still got no idea what you’d do?
Beth laughs.
 64.

BETH
Yup. That’s me. I want to run my
own business, just no idea what I
want to do.
A PRIEST, 32, walks toward them. Beth stubs her cigarette
out on the bottom of her shoe.
The Priest stops, clasps his hands together and gives a
tight lipped smile. Beth stands up and shakes his hand.
BETH
Thank you very much. Lovely
service, Dad would have been proud.
He waves away her compliments.
BETH
This is my best friend, Sarah.
Sarah stands, shakes his hand.
SARAH
Pleased to meet you.
PRIEST
Indeed, indeed.
He looks her up and down.
BETH
Sarah’s in marketing.
PRIEST
(to Sarah)
I guess that makes two of us.
He and Beth laugh.
SARAH
(to Priest)
I think you’ve got the harder gig
at the moment.
BETH
I dunno, what is it at the moment?
Condom --
(realises)
m -- m -- iniums?
SARAH
(eyebrows raised)
Yes... We do do some um, property
work.
 65.

PRIEST
(none the wiser)
That’s good. Very good. It was
lovely to meet you, Sarah. Beth.
He shakes hands again, and goes on his way.
Sarah shakes her head in mock disgust.
SARAH
I’m just glad you didn’t venture
onto the subject of flavours.
BETH
I’m so sorry. He was kinda cute,
don’t you think?
SARAH
Always the matchmaker, eh? You
should start a bloody dating
agency.
Beth looks up at the sky. Looks to a new gravestone.
BETH
Do people still go to them?
SARAH
Dunno. All on the net nowadays
aren’t they? All web-cams and
wanking.
BETH
Come on, I’m serious. That would be
a good idea.
SARAH
You? The terminal singleton,
telling other people how to get
together? Actually, what am I
saying? That’s all you ever bloody
do.
BETH
This is true. You know I hooked
Yazmin and Tim up?
SARAH
Yes, I did hear that rumour... I
tell you now, that’ll go nowhere.
They walk along the church path. Beth muses.
 66.

BETH
Dating agency..? Maybe today isn’t
the day to be thinking straight...
SARAH
Maybe. But don’t be too hasty. One
good thing could come of it.
BETH
What’s that?
SARAH
You might find us a couple of
decent fellas.
They laugh as they get into a car
FADE OUT.

SUPER: "A BIT OF DOUGH"

FADE IN:

INT. LOUNGE - DAY

Eric, a face wrinkled by years of expression. Without his
pork pie hat, a head of white hair is revealed.
He spills most of a spoonful of tomato soup down his shirt.
ERIC
Bugger... Alright, apart from a
clean shirt, what more could I
want?
He dunks a thick toasted crust into his soup.
An austere female CARE ASSISTANT, 39, in a blue nurses
uniform sits on a sofa, pen and clipboard in hand.
CARE ASSISTANT
(mildest hint of German
accent)
It’s not a case of what you want,
it’s what you need. You’re not
getting any younger, change is
inevitable, Eric.
Eric picks up a white envelope from his coffee table and
pockets it. Grunts as he stands up.
 67.

ERIC
You need to cheer up. You’ve been
spending too much time ’round old
moaners. I’ve told you, I’m not
interested in any care home.
Eric walks slowly toward his kitchen.
CARE ASSISTANT
It’s a senior retirement community,
not a home. Somewhere to do
something new, something different.
Not just stuck in here. A chance to
meet people, make friends --
Eric stands in the kitchen doorway.
ERIC
Something new? Something different?
You think just because I can’t
climb stairs any more I’ve got to
be in a home?
He steps further into the kitchen, slightly out of sight.
CARE ASSISTANT
Stairs? You didn’t tell me you
couldn’t use stairs.
She flips through pages on her clipboard, concerned.
Eric, unseen, shifts something metallic in the kitchen.
CARE ASSISTANT
How long is it since...?
ERIC (O.S)
Oh yes. I’m not getting any
younger.
The Care Assistant scribbles notes.
CARE ASSISTANT
Then how are you using the
toilet...?
The sound of water pissing into a metal bucket.
Eric leans back so his head pokes around the door, guilty
smile.
 68.

CARE ASSISTANT
Oh.
ERIC
Sorry. What were you saying about
retirement community?
The steady tinkling sound continues.
CARE ASSISTANT
Eric, this is your kitchen, I,
this... unsanitary... I’ll have to
put this in my report you know.
Eric muses as he leans back around the open door.
ERIC
Put it in your report. Bloody
clipboards. You know it was the
Nazis that invented them.
CARE ASSISTANT
And what is that supposed to mean?
The tinkling continues.
ERIC
Oh, nothing. Just part of that
authoritarian uniform thing they
used to be so good at.
CARE ASSISTANT
Eric, I don’t know why you have to
bring the Germans into everything,
we talk about --
ERIC
Hold on.
The pissing sound gets more intense. The care assistant
looks away. The tinkling becomes gushing.
She raises her eyebrows. Turns back to Eric, concerned.
Eric steps out of the kitchen with a kettle and a bucket. He
pours the last drips into the bucket. Gives a little shiver.
ERIC
Ahhh, that’s better!
He bursts out laughing. The care assistant is not amused.
 69.

CARE ASSISTANT
You think wasting my time is funny?
You think ruining my report sheets
is funny?
ERIC
Oh come on. That was funny... Cup
of tea?
He holds up the kettle. Bursts out laughing again. The care
assistant gets up and packs her things away.
CARE ASSISTANT
I’ll send you the paperwork for the
retirement community. Have a read.
I’ll be back next week.
ERIC
Oh don’t get your knickers in a
twist, it was only a joke. You
know, ever since you’ve been coming
here, I haven’t seen you crack your
face once. How about a little
smile?
CARE ASSISTANT
I’m here to care, not to smile.
Change is inevitable, Eric.
ERIC
Yeah? Is that what you tell your
private patients? Or do you have a
little more time for them?
She walks out, nose in the air.
ERIC
(shouts after her)
If I was one of your rich private
patients you’d have five minutes
for a chat, wouldn’t you?
The door bangs shut.
ERIC
Goodbye, Ms. Mueller!
Eric looks at a large framed British Union Jack flag.
ERIC
(mimics care assistant)
"Not here to talk, Eric. Don’t have
time. Inevitable change, Eric."
 70.

He makes a "Hitler salute." Lets out a deep breath. Walks

over to a framed picture. A young man.
ERIC
What am I going to do, son?
He closes his eyes and puts his hand on the picture.

INT. BANK - DAY

Eric, in pork pie hat, sits in front of TIM, 25, as denoted
on his team leader’s badge. Tim smiles across the desk.
ERIC
So you’re not the assistant
manager?
TIM
Well, as I said, sir. There is, as
such, no function of an assistant
manager, as it were. But, I am a
team leader.
ERIC
What does that mean?
TIM
I lead a team.
ERIC
Where to?
TIM
To excellent customer service and
the leading banking service on the
high street, we hope.
He laughs at his own intelligence. Clicks his pen.
ERIC
Team leader? Anybody’d think you
were leading an Arctic expedition.
Climbing Everest... Excellent
customer service, eh...
Tim looks annoyed. Glances to a clock.
ERIC
Well, anyway. I’ve been a customer
since before you were born, in all
those years, this is the first time
I’ve asked to see the manager. I
(MORE)
 71.

ERIC (cont’d)
asked about this two weeks ago, and
now you tell me, he’s not here. Is
that excellent customer service?
TIM
Sir, as I explained. Mr. Rogers has
met with unfortunate delay on a
conference call. I’m sure I can
provide you with every assistance.
Now, something about a change of
address and deposit? These are
simple --
Eric stands up.
ERIC
Unfortunate delay? Hmmmph. Tell
your manager, bugger it!
Eric walks out.
TIM
(to self)
Yes, I’m sure he’ll be devastated,
Mr. Balance-of-thirty-four-pounds
-and-eight-pence.

EXT. COMMUNITY CENTRE - DAY

Eric stares at a cold exterior.
ERIC
Something bloody new? Different?

INT. FUNCTION ROOM - DAY

Ten or so members of a support group sit in a circle of
chairs in an bland function room. Eric slowly stands.
ERIC
Hello.
SUPPORT GROUP
Hello.
ERIC
My name’s Eric, and I’m an
alcoholic. I’ve been sober for
thirty six years.
An attendee looks at him like he’s taking the piss.
 72.

ERIC
I started drinking when I lost my
son. I stopped drinking when I lost
my wife. One’s dead, the other
lives in Malta. I’ve never been to
one of these. But I just thought
I’d pop along to say, there are
ways to beat it, and life’s better
without the bottle.
Eric looks to the SUPPORT COUNSELLOR.
ERIC
Was that okay?
The Counsellor smiles. Eric smiles back and sits down.

INT. BURGER RESTAURANT - DAY

Eric, just inside the restaurant, takes in the polished
brightness. A smiling female ASSISTANT in a tacky outfit.
BURGER ASSISTANT
Welcome to Chunky Burger, how can I
help you today?
ERIC
Today? well, let me see, what is a
combo?
BURGER ASSISTANT
Sorry?
Eric points to the menu options behind her.
ERIC
It says Chunky Burger Combo Deals.
What are they?
BURGER ASSISTANT
Oh, you get your choice of Chunky
Burger burgers, fries and a drink.
ERIC
Oh, alright, which one do you
recommend?
BURGER ASSISTANT
Huh?
 73.

ERIC
I’ve not been in one of these
before. What’s good?
BURGER ASSISTANT
Oh, they’re all good.
A group of youths gather behind Eric. Chunky and Skinny
included.
ERIC
Alright. I’ll try one of those Mega
Bacon burgers.
BURGER ASSISTANT
Is that with the salsa or the
ketchup?
ERIC
Oh, the ketchup. Please.
BURGER ASSISTANT
Would you like to mega max?
ERIC
Would I like to what?
The group of youths become restless.
BURGER ASSISTANT
Do you want to have large fries and
large drink?
ERIC
Um, yeah. Why not?
SKINNY YOUTH
(whispers to friend)
Dickhead don’t know what mega max
is.
The other youths laugh. Eric bristles.
The assistant hands him his meal. Eric walks past the
giggling youths.

LATER
Eric, alone at his table, eats his meal in silence.
The youths sit nearby. Loud and obnoxious. One throws a fry
at another. It lands near Eric.
 74.

Eric looks at the youths. Chunky bites his nails, pretending

to be afraid. The others make a rising ’whoooooo’ noise.
Eric eats his meal in silence.

EXT. BURGER RESTAURANT - DAY

The youths lean against the outside glass, smoking. A
mountain bike leans against a road sign.
Eric emerges from the restaurant.
CHUNKY YOUTH
(fake sneeze)
Ah, ah, ahhh DICKHEAD!
The youths crack up laughing. Eric holds their glares.
ERIC
Winston Churchill promised us a
nation of heroes... Where are they?
SKINNY YOUTH
Who?
ERIC
Winston Churchill. You’d all be
talking kraut without him.
A few blank looks from the youths.
CHUNKY YOUTH
War geezer, from history.
The others nod, impressed at Chunky’s wisdom.
SKINNY YOUTH
You’ve got some bollocks, mate.
Anyway, war’s over. Don’t need no
fuckin’ heroes.
CHUNKY YOUTH
Yeah, granddad. Jog on!
Eric smiles at them and walks away. He looks to their bike.
The youths have forgotten him already.
He moves the bike away from the sign: "HILL STREET." Pushes
off on one pedal. He looks back over his shoulder.
 75.

ERIC
Why jog?
Chunky looks up from lighting a cigarette. Shock.
CHUNKY YOUTH
He’s nicking your fuckin’ bike!

HILL STREET
Eric hits the brow of a steep hill. The youths chase,
shouting. Eric laughs, picks up momentum, gains distance.
The youths give up as they see he’s getting away.
ERIC
Dick heads!
He laughs. The wind blows through his white hair.

OTHER STREET
A double decker bus, a 41, turns into a street.

HILL STREET
He hurtles down the hill at an alarming pace. A slight
wobble, a look of fear, he steadies the bike and relaxes.

BUS
The driver crunches gears as he climbs a hill.

HILL STREET
Eric chuckles as he passes cars coming the opposite way.
The bus picks up speed up the hill.
Eric flies down the hill, a smile on his face.
From a side road a car pulls out. It’s Eric’s care
assistant. She sees Eric fly past.
CARE ASSISTANT
Scheiße!
She stares after Eric, heads straight for the bus.
 76.

The bus brakes, the bus and car skid. CRUNCH!

Care assistant and bus driver lock angry glares.
Hill Street is blocked. Traffic builds behind them.
Eric free-wheels down the hill, oblivious.

INT. LOUNGE - NIGHT

Eric sits on his sofa. He listens to some modern, melancholy
music. He gets up and walks to the picture of his son.
ERIC
You’d have known what to do, eh
son? Not sure your old man can do
this on his own.
He holds the plain white envelope up before him.

EXT. CITY BUILDING - DAY

Eric, in a smart new pork pie hat, looks up at a gleaming
glass building. He checks the address on the white envelope.

INT. LOBBY - DAY

He peruses a floor guide, runs his finger down the list of
offices.

INT. CORRIDOR - DAY

Eric knocks on a door.
BETH (O.S)
Come in.
Beth sits behind a desk in a smart office. A large heart
with a logo inscribed "LOVE MATTERS" forms a backdrop.
BETH
Hi, how can I help you?
Beth’s warm smile. Eric’s is a touch apprehensive.
 77.

INT. BETH’S OFFICE - DAY

A Polaroid camera flashes. Eric relaxes his smile. Takes a
sip from a mug of tea.
BETH
How old are you Mr...?
ERIC
Please, Eric’ll do fine, and I’m
seventy two.
BETH
Really? You don’t look a day over
sixty.
ERIC
I’ll take that as a compliment.
BETH
As it was intended. May I ask how
you heard of us? Was it the advert?
She holds up a three quarter page advert. A big red heart,
"Love Matters" and a tear off application form.
ERIC
Not really, I was just sort of
passing to be honest. The important
thing is, I’m here.
BETH
This is true. Okay, so you know
what we do here?
ERIC
You’re a dating agency.
BETH
That’s right. Matchmakers of sorts.
Finding the right person for the,
um, right person.
ERIC
Alright. I’ll have one of those.
BETH
What’s different about Love
Matters, is we don’t just feed your
personal details into a computer
and see what it spits out. It’s all
done by our team of -- well, by me,
really.
 78.

ERIC
I like that.
Beth pulls a pack of Hob Nobs from her draw.
BETH
Biscuit?
Eric smiles and takes one.
BETH
I guess the first thing I need to
know is a bit about you and what
kind of person you’re looking for?
ERIC
Well. The reason I knocked on your
door, is, I think I’m tired of
staring at four walls. I’m entering
a very interesting time in my life.
Got a lot of inevit -- a lot of
changes coming. I think it would be
nice to share them with somebody.
BETH
Changes?
ERIC
Well, I think I’m going to be
moving out of my house, for a
start.
BETH
Okay. But you’ll still be looking
for someone in this area?
ERIC
Yes, I think so.
Beth dunks a biscuit in her tea.
BETH
And would you say it’s romance or
friendship you’re looking for?
ERIC
Well, you know, sitting here and
talking to you, I can’t remember
the last time I had a proper
conversation. Nobody wants to talk
any more. You get on the bus,
everybody’s plugged in. I don’t
want you to think I’m a moaning old
(MORE)
 79.

ERIC (cont’d)
bugger, I’m not. But you go into a
restaurant nowadays and it sounds
like they’re reading off the back
of a card.
Beth smiles as Eric holds up an imaginary cue card.
ERIC
What happened to conversation? To
actually giving a shit -- excuse my
French -- to, you know, caring how
people are doing, how their morning
is going? It would be nice to have
someone who can listen and someone
who can talk... I don’t mean two
different women, by that.
A twinkle in his eye. Beth’s smile is warm and genuine
ERIC
People go on about how everything
was better in the olden days. Not
true. Good and bad, like anything.
But you know what? You could walk
into a pub in any town, not know a
soul, stand in a bus queue, not a
clue who you’re talking to, but
they’d give you a smile and a bit
of conversation. You were only a
stranger until they’d shook your
hand and told you their name... A
conversation. Not just talk, but
using these.
He taps an ear.
ERIC
On the way up here, two fellas’ in
the lift. Talking about some big
business deal cock-up or something.
One of them said. "It’s just a
breakdown of communications." The
other one says. "No, no, they’re
just not listening to each other."
He holds his hands out. Beth nods.
BETH
I know what you mean, Eric.
 80.

ERIC
The thing is, you get to a stage
where you start to acccept it.
Think -- this is it. I’m going to
go all week and the only question
I’m going to be asked is do I want
any help with my packing? Have I
got a loyalty card? And the truth
is, first you realise the little
conversations have gone and then
you remember the big ones have as
well. There are people that’d I’d
give all the money in the world to
sit down and talk with, but I
can’t. I can’t do anything about
that now, it’s too late. but I
don’t have to sit around moping
about it. It’s down to me to change
it.
Beth takes a deep breath.
BETH
I know what you mean. You’re
exactly right. Let’s do something
about it.
Eric smiles and nods. Got that off his chest.
Beth picks up a business card from the desk. Reads from it
mechanically.
BETH
Do you have a loyalty card?
She cracks up half way through, Eric too.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Eric walks slowly down the street. He stops outside an
Indian restaurant. He stops, peers at the menu. He walks in.

INDIAN RESTAURANT
Eric enters the cosy but garishly coloured reception area.
The Indian waiter smiles.
INDIAN WAITER
Hello, my friend. How are you?
 81.

ERIC
Very good, thank you. I think I’d
like to try my first ever curry.
The Indian Waiter is surprised.
INDIAN WAITER
First curry? Well, come. It’s
Sunday, it’s quiet. We prepare a
feast, fit for a king.
He leads Eric through the practically empty restaurant.

LATER
The waiter places poppadoms, onion salad and dips on the
table. Eric picks up a poppadom and smiles.
ERIC
Thank you. Like a giant crisp.
The waiter smiles. His attention switches to a tour bus that
pulls up outside the restaurant window.
The bus door opens, forty or so tourists exit and head into
the restaurant.
INDIAN WAITER
Oh my.
ERIC
Bloody hell.
The tourists chatter in German and start to fill the
restaurant tables. Eric looks on. Furrowed brow.
The waiter shouts in Punjabi to the kitchen.
Other waiters appear, show people to tables, hand out menus.
Two German tourists, HANS and HELGA, 20, look for a table.
The restaurant is now packed. They walk to Eric’s table.
HANS
(German accent)
Sir, would we be able to join you.
His female companion smiles at Eric. Eric is taken aback.
ERIC
(cold)
Are you... German?
 82.

HELGA
(German accent)
Ya, but we can pretend to be Swiss
if you like?
She smiles. Eric’s furrowed brow... relaxes into a smile.
ERIC
Well it was good timing. Have a
popatop.
Eric offers the poppadoms. They sit down, relieved.
HANS
Thank you. Our bus broke down. We
haven’t eaten since the breakfast.
HELGA
I’m starving.
They munch on a poppadom each. Eric passes the dips.
ERIC
You’re tourists?
HANS
Yeah, heading to Cambridge, but we
asked for a stop. Get some dinner.
Is this a good restaurant?
ERIC
Well, I’m not the best to say. This
is my first time. But they are very
friendly.
HANS
Best Indian restaurants in the
world are in England.
ERIC
Really? Surely in India?
HANS
Ach, no. Much better here. One
reason I love England. Best food.
Eric laughs.
ERIC
I thought we were meant to have the
worst food in Europe.
 83.

HELGA
Well, I don’t know about your
English food... But your ethnic
restaurant, mmmm.
ERIC
Ha, thanks to the empire.
Eric bites his lip.
ERIC
Sorry, I didn’t mean no --
HANS
Ha, is okay. We tried at the empire
building thing too. Not so
successful.
Eric looks at his plate, a tad uncomfortable.
HELGA
Tell me, were you alive in the war?
ERIC
Alive? Yes, I was. I served.
HELGA
You don’t look that old!
ERIC
Thank you. I wish I wasn’t. I
joined at fifteen in nineteen forty
two.
HANS
Wow. That’s amazing. Did you go to
Germany.
ERIC
Yes I did. I parachuted into --
sorry, I know you don’t want to
hear this.
HANS
No, no. We would. I’m very
interested in the War. Especially
to hear from those involved,
please, go on.
Eric looks shocked. Helga smiles, and pours him some water.
 84.

LATER
The diners tuck in to their meals. A buzz of satisfied and
animated German chatter.
Eric talks, he pauses to mop his plate with his naan bread.
Hans and Helga listen to him with rapt attention.

LATER
Eric stands.
ERIC
Hans, Helga, thank you very much
for your company. I very much
enjoyed talking to you. Again,
sorry if I bored you.
Hans stands and shakes Eric’s hand.
HANS
Thank you. The pleasure was all
mine. Thank you for allowing us to
dine with you.
Helga gives him a winning smile. Eric shuffles toward the
Indian waiter at the cashier’s desk.
The restaurant buzzes with chat and diner enjoyment.
Hans and Helga smile and chat as they tuck into their food.
They tap their beer bottles and drink.
The Indian waiter stands frozen at the cashiers desk as Eric
walks away and out of the restaurant.
An OLD WAITER walks up to the Indian waiter. He stares at
him, clicks his fingers in his face.
OLD WAITER
You sleeping on the job, is it?
INDIAN WAITER
What? Sorry, no. Sorry. Oh my.
He picks up a glass and a spoon, taps the glass rapidly as
if to make a speech. The restaurant slowly falls silent. The
other waiters look around, puzzled.
INDIAN WAITER
Hello, ladies and gentlemen, sorry
to interrupt your meals, but just
(MORE)
 85.

INDIAN WAITER (cont’d)

to say, that the elderly gentleman
who just left. He’s paid for all
your dinners. All of them. Thank
you.
There is a look of shock on the diner’s faces. They look
around puzzled.
Hans and Helga stare at each other in amazement. Amazement
turns to smiles as two more beers are placed on their table.
FADE OUT.
SUPER: "THE LAST SLICE"

FADE IN:

INT. BETH’S OFFICE - DAY - EARLIER

Eric in his new pork pie hat, exits Beth’s office.
A moment. She puts her hands to her face and weeps. Just a
moment, then wipes her eyes. Hits a speed dial button.
BETH
(into phone)
Are you free?

LATER
Sarah sits opposite Beth. They sip take-out coffee.
SARAH
You said yourself it would be
tough.
BETH
I know. You must think I’m a wuss.
SARAH
Well, yeah. Not just because of now
though.
Beth smiles.
SARAH
You can’t let things get on top of
you.
 86.

BETH
I know, I know. But it’s hopeless.
I’m hopeless.
SARAH
No you’re not. What you’re doing
here is a good thing. I’m hopeless,
what am I doing? Marketing a
vibrating love ring? You’re doing
something worthy.
BETH
But it’s too personal. These
people, I can’t help them. I’m too
involved and I can’t find them
anybody. They’re good people.
Beth pushes a small pile of files toward Sarah.
SARAH
Hey... Come on. If they were that
good, they wouldn’t be single.
BETH
We’re both single.
Sarah flicks through a file.
SARAH
We’re just choosy. And busy.
She looks at Andy’s Polaroid.
SARAH
He’s not bad.
BETH
None of them are bad. It’s just my
portfolio’s so small I can’t match
them up.
SARAH
Is that the only reason?
Beth lets out a deep breath.
BETH
Lonely men, sitting in their lonely
houses. I think they remind me of
my dad.
 87.

EXT. OFFICE CORRIDOR - DAY - EARLIER

Eric checks his envelope and walks past office doors. He
checks the sign on the door: "NATIONAL LOTTERY COMMISSION."
BETH (V.O.)
Sort of stumbling through life
without a plan.
He raises his hand to knock at the Lottery office. Looks at
the door opposite. A sign: "LOVE MATTERS." He pauses.
He thinks for a moment, then steps over to that door.

INT. DAVE’S KITCHEN - DAY - PREVIOUS SCENE

Dave sits at his kitchen table. He screws up the small ads
and throws them. Through a haze of tears he sees the
newspaper advert for "Love Matters."
SARAH (V.O.)
Well, like I said, maybe you can’t
find them somebody for a reason.

INT. ANDY’S LOUNGE - DAY - PREVIOUS SCENE

Andy pulls the front cover from another paper and tosses it.
He collapses back against the wall.
SARAH (V.O.)
The last thing your dad needed was
another woman.
Andy stares at the newspapers, scattered across his floor.
Covers missing, hundreds of Beth’s adverts are revealed.
Hundreds of "Love Matters" hearts.
Andy allows himself a smile. Picks up a newspaper.

BETH’S OFFICE
Beth looks like she’s having a moment of clarity.
She grabs a file from Sarah and opens it. She dials.
Sarah peers over at a Polaroid of Colin.
 88.

INT. COLIN’S LOUNGE - DAY - PREVIOUS SCENE

Classical music plays. Colin stares as his phone RINGS. He
puts his drink down next to rows of pills. Woozily walks to
the phone.
COLIN
Hello?
BETH (O.S)
Hi, Colin. Beth, here. Love
Matters.
COLIN
Oh. Hello.
BETH (O.S)
Colin, I’ve got a potential date
for you. I just wanted to check
your schedule.
COLIN
A date?
BETH (O.S)
Yeah, are you available on Sunday?
Colin looks at the rows of pills and vodka.

BETH’S OFFICE
Beth puts the phone down. Sarah stares at her, puzzled. She
leans over, looks at the file and Polaroid of Colin.
SARAH
(whispers)
Please tell me you’re not going out
with... Colin. I’m not...
Beth smiles. Her eyes are alive with her plan.

BETH
Pass me those files.

INT. COLIN’S BATHROOM - DAY

Colin, two fingers down his throat, vomits into his toilet.
BETH (V.O.)
Colin’s a good man, Sarah.
He spits in the toilet, blows his nose.
 89.

EXT. BUS STOP - DAY

Colin kneels down and brushes the crushed up cigarettes into
the dustpan marked "DRY."
BETH (V.O.)
They’re all good men. And I think I
know what they need.

INT. DAVE’S BATHROOM - DAY

Dave washes soap from his face in front of his mirror. He
stands back, looks at himself. Deep breath. Can he do this?

EXT. COLIN’S FRONT GARDEN - DAY

Colin creeps warily from his house. Checks the coast is
clear down the street.
SARAH (V.O.)
Always thinking of others, eh?

INT. ANDY’S KITCHEN - DAY

Andy stands over his sink. He’s wears a smart jacket and
colourful T-shirt.
He considers his bottle of wine. He pours it down the sink.
The wine swirls down the plughole. The waste pains him.
He stops, grabs a glass, pours the last of the bottle and
breathes it in. Takes a sip.
SARAH (V.O.)
I hope you know what you’re doing.

EXT. PUB - DAY

A Rolls Royce pulls up outside a lonely looking pub: "The
Oak." A serious chauffeur sniffs and looks around.
BETH (V.O.)
Maybe I don’t. Maybe this will be a
disaster. The whole business a
disaster. But I think you were
right about my dad. And I know
there’s one thing I can count on.
Eric exits the Rolls Royce and opens the pub door.
 90.

SARAH (V.O.)
What’s that.
Andy, Dave and Colin sit at the bar.

INT. BETH’S OFFICE - DAY

Beth faces Sarah over the desk.
BETH
You.
They embrace firmly.

INT. THE OAK PUB - DAY

Andy, Dave and Colin turn at the sound of the door opening.
Eric smiles.
The pub is silent. They are the only four people there.
Eric takes a seat at the bar.
Nobody speaks. All stare in different directions. Andy
checks his watch. Eric looks at a ticking clock. Dave
glances to the door.
Silence.
The elderly barman appears like a spectre.
ERIC
A lemonade, please.
The barman pours in silence. Places it before Eric and
disappears into the back.
A moment of silence.
ERIC
He’s a cheery bugger.
A smirk from Andy, Dave and Colin.
ANDY
Don’t be offended. I got the same
treatment.
DAVE
No wonder the place is so busy...
 91.

Colin looks around at the empty pub. Checks his watch. Andy
looks at the doors. Checks his watch.
ANDY
Yeah... Of all the lousy gin
joints. Man, what a dive.
Silence. The four stare at their drinks.
A clock ticks. The four sit in silence. The second hand on
the clock advances twenty minutes.
Four near empty glasses.
Dave looks at his watch. Eric does likewise.
DAVE
Well, I’ll say one thing for the
place. At least the ale’s cheap.
They all smile. The ice is warming. More silence.
COLIN
I think this is the first pub I’ve
been to this year. What a place to
choose.
Dave looks at his watch. His empty glass.
DAVE
Well, I don’t get out that often me
self, so who wants a pint?
Andy looks a bit surprised. Colin smiles, Eric nods.
ERIC
Yeah, why not, if that extends to a
lemonade. It doesn’t look like
my... friend’s turning up.
ANDY
Barman!
Andy turns to the others.
ANDY
Bag of peanuts for the person who
can make him laugh.
They all laugh as the stony-faced barman appears.
 92.

LATER
Colin sinks the last of his pint. Dave, Andy and Colin look
a little worse for wear.
DAVE
So, come on Colin, have you ever
been to a worse pub than this?
COLIN
Only in nightmares.
They laugh.
ANDY
I think you’re too harsh. I think
it has a nice ambience. If I come
into a few quid, I’d buy it and
make it into the best little pub in
town.
ERIC
Really? Is that what you’d really
do?
COLIN
I’d never work another day in my
life.
DAVE
Really? I would. Just not in my
trade.
ANDY
You know what I’d do?
ERIC
What would you do?
ANDY
Crusts.
There is a puzzled silence. Dave bursts out laughing. Andy
acts offended.
ANDY
My great new business proposal.
Andy’s crusts.
COLIN
It sounds marvellous. Who wants
another drink.
 93.

ANDY
Yes, obviously. But seriously.
Crusts... You know how the bestest
most toastable bit of a loaf is the
two thick end crusts.
DAVE
Without a doubt.
COLIN
Gives it a bit of backbone.
Sometimes necessary with the excess
moisture of, say, beans on toast.
They crack up laughing.
COLIN
What? What did I say?
ERIC
Just the crusts? What would you do
with the rest of the bread? The
non-crust slices?
ANDY
No, I got it all worked out.
Imagine a multi-slotted baking
tray. The dough goes in, produces
all these mini three inch wide
loaves. Slice down the middle.
Bang! Two slices of bread, both
crusts. Bag a bunch of them, there
you have it.
COLIN
Andy’s crusts.
ANDY
You said it.
A moment’s silence. Dave, Eric and Colin seem deep in
thought.
DAVE
It could work.
ANDY
Yeah. People want something new.
DAVE
You’d have to proportion your
yeast, flour, water ratios just
right. But it could work.
 94.

They all laugh again.

DAVE
What? I know a lot about making
bread.
COLIN
I think I’d need to see a business
plan. Maybe I’d be better buying
this place?
They chuckle. Colin raises his glass.
COLIN
A toast!
A moment, they get it, they burst out laughing. They all
raise their glasses and ’toast’ the idea.
COLIN
Bugger Dr. Atkins!
More laughter from the four.

EXT. PUB - DAY

Colin staggers out of the pub. Dave steadies him. Eric and
Andy follow.
ANDY
Well gentlemen, I must admit, a
very different afternoon than what
I expected. Most entertaining
company.
DAVE
Agreed.
COLIN
Where can we get a cab?
ERIC
Don’t worry. My man can drop you
off.
The Rolls Royce pulls up. Dave, Colin and Andy look shocked.
Eric climbs in and rolls down the window.
ERIC
Do I have to ask twice?
They smile and get in.
 95.

EXT. PARK - DAY

Beth and Sarah in conspicuous sunglasses sit on swings.
They turn to each other and embrace tightly. A short
distance away, across the road, Dave, Colin, Andy and Eric
emerge from the pub, animated and friendly.

EXT. ANDY’S HOUSE - DAY

Andy climbs out the Rolls. Hands a card to Eric.
ANDY
I’m looking forward to it, speak to
you soon, mate.
ERIC
You certainly will, Andy.
The Rolls pulls away. Colin pokes his head out the window.
COLIN
Crusts!
Andy laughs and puts his thumb up. He looks pleased. He
takes out his mobile phone. The voucher for the "free short
with a pint" comes with it.
He sees Mari’s phone number. Looks to his phone, a moment of
serious contemplation.

EXT. STREET - DAY

Dave and Colin wave to Eric as the Rolls pulls away.
DAVE
See you, pal!

ROLLS ROYCE
Eric sits back with a satisfied smile. He takes a leaflet
from his jacket pocket.
INSERT: Leaflet, "ADVICE FOR LOTTERY WINNERS."
He turns a page to a heading: "INVESTING IN A BUSINESS"
He smiles again, opens a panel on the armrest and switches
on a radio. Light Indian music from "Roti and Rye" plays.
 96.

STREET
Dave has a smile on his face. Colin staggers along, looks at
the bus shelter, sees Skinny and Chunky.
COLIN
Oh dear.
DAVE
What’s up?
The youths look up. Faces battered and bruised.
COLIN
These lads. I’ve had some trouble.
The youths see Dave. They stand up.
DAVE
If I see you out here ever again --
The youths are gone. Half way up the street. Colin looks
shocked at Dave.
DAVE
Long story.
Colin’s puzzled. Holds his hand out. Dave shakes it.
DAVE
So, you be around next week?
COLIN
I’d say it’s a certainty.
They shake hands. Colin walks up his path, smiling.
Three leaves lie on his lawn. He looks at them, pauses.

ROLLS ROYCE
Eric half reads his leaflet and listens to his radio.
FEMALE VOICE ON RADIO
(Indian accent)
"So that is the question that will
shape our future..."
 97.

STREET
Colin checks Dave isn’t watching, and picks up the leaves.
MALE VOICE ON RADIO (V.O.)
(English accent)
"Remember what came first. You once
told me that we were so different.
As different as roti and rye. But
they have one thing in common --
the sum of their ingredients is
greater than their individual
parts..."
Dave walks by the bus shelter. A double-decker approaches.
The numbers on the front: four one.
MALE VOICE ON RADIO (V.O.)
"So my answer is yes, love matters.
But remember, before we found love,
we discovered a friendship."
Dave checks his watch. A smile and shake of the head. He
licks his bottom lip... and raises his hand to hail the bus.
FADE OUT.