ScriptFrenzy

[scrippet]INT. ORMONDE HOTEL LOBBY DESK — NIGHT

Joy’s finger pressing down hard on the RING HERE FOR SERVICE bell, with the associated strident RINGING. After a few moments, Doris appears, looking sleepy and confused.

JOY
I want you to find me another place to stay. Right now.

DORIS
(not sure what’s wrong)
Why, if there’s something wrong, do let me —

JOY
I met your husband.

DORIS
(uneasy)
And…?

JOY
He’s dead! And so is everyone else here but us!

DORIS
Uh, yes.

JOY
And you let them stay here!

Doris comes out from behind the desk and starts unnecessarily “tidying” the front of the reception area. She’s becoming annoyed in a way she can’t usually allow to show.

DORIS
Well, of course I do! Everybody has to have somewhere to stay! Do you think I want them to have to live in the street in cardboard boxes, like homeless people?[/scrippet]

[scrippet]INT. HARRODS FOOD HALL — DAY

The two of them wander through the place, among the painted tiles and displays of food.

JOY
So if you don’t have family here, or business, why do you stay in London?

GUNTER
I suppose I am the eternal tourist. These people, their lives and surroundings…they fascinate me. I cannot seem to leave.

JOY
These surroundings? They’re a little commercial.

Gives her an appraising look.

GUNTER
True. But there are many places less so.

JOY
So show me someplace uncommercial.

EXT. ST. CLEMENT DANES CHURCH — DAY

The Royal Air Force’s little church in Fleet Street. They ENTER.[/scrippet]

(back to pages 7-11)

[scrippet]INT. COLLINS’S HOTEL ROOM — DAY

It’s minuscule, decorated in best British ’70’s style: cheap wood paneling, ancient wall-mounted phone and pushbutton radio, tiny built-in desk and chair, the skinniest possible double bed: barely room to move. The bathroom is a tiny cubicle. As Harry and Joy ENTER (with difficulty), the room comes as a shock to both. Harry drops the suitcases, resigned, as Joy tosses her bag onto a chair.

JOY
Isn’t this… snug!

HARRY
Hey, nostalgia. I haven’t slept in a closet since before my divorce.

Joy tries to get past Harry to the bathroom. It’s a struggle: they squeeze past each other with difficulty. Now that they’re in the room, Harry’s tiredness really catches up with him. He pushes the bags up against the wall and collapses on the bed, eyes closed, while Joy continues examining the room.

JOY
Well, like you say, I’m going to be out sightseeing most of the time. And it’s only for a couple weeks…

HARRY
(sleepy but emphatic)
No, it’s not. As soon as we can, we’ll find someplace else. This is a dump.

JOY
Oh, isn’t that a little harsh, honey? The people downstairs seem nice. …Honey?

She GLANCES at him. He’s already ASLEEP: he SNORES.

Joy lets out an affectionate breath, goes to him: quietly gets Harry’s shoes off, puts a pillow under his head. Briefly she sits down by him with a “What do I do now?” ~look.

Her eye falls on her bag: the guidebook she was reading in Immigration has fallen out of it, the picture of Big Ben noticeable on its cover.

JOY
Yeah…
[/scrippet]

Joy and Harry have collected their luggage. Joy waits while Harry goes through their carry-on luggage and comes up with two slick-looking SMARTPHONES. He hands Joy one.

HARRY
Here’s yours for while we’re here. We drop them off at the show when it’s over.

JOY
They ought to let you keep them.

HARRY
You kidding? Mrs. Erickson’s little Bobby didn’t get to be the tenth richest man on the planet by giving his employees freebies. Discounts, maybe…

Joy turns hers over in her hands, looks at it.

JOY
It’s really nice.

HARRY
Best on the market.

JOY
The eternal salesman.

HARRY
No, it’s true! Best performance for the least money. Drives the competitors nuts. They wish they could figure out how we do it.

JOY
How do you do it?

HARRY
Don’t ask me. That’s hardware. I’m sales. But anyway, it’s all set up so you can text me or tweet me if I have to cancel dinner or something…

JOY
(resigned)
You mean “when.”

HARRY
Look, hon, you knew this would be a working holiday. You said, I understand, I’ll probably have to be on my own a lot, I’ll cope…

He’s not cruel about this, just needs her to understand. Joy tries to put a good face on it as they head toward a door signed “TAXICABS”, through which the cab rank is visible.

JOY
And I will. I just wish we could have a real vacation together, a normal trip, like normal people….

HARRY
Joy, you know how work’s been.

JOY
And now I’m going to have to spend my days running around in a strange country all by myself…

HARRY
Come on, Joy, it’s not as if we don’t all speak the same language.

They pass a newsagent kiosk sporting a “Sun” broadside advertising today’s edition. It says, “GAZZA HAZZA BOG ROMP!” Joy gives it a look.

JOY
I’ll take your word for it. [/scrippet]