A Patch of Fog Page #5
- Year:
- 2015
- 92 min
- 49 Views
Come on, come on, come on.
Excuse me?
Aren't you Sandy Duffy?
F*** off.
Robert.
Robert!
What the f*** is wrong with you?
I spent half last night
talking to the police
because some dick smashed my
windscreen. And Lucy's too.
- Well, did the police find out who it was?
- No.
- I covered for you.
- It's too soft.
- Is Lucy alright?
- No, she's not alright.
Nor is her daughter.
This is serious, Robert.
- What's serious, Sandy?
- Well, you turning up at my house.
- What? You and Lucy?
- What?
Because if I remember,
you told me that youse two were
both just colleagues.
Right, no, and last night, you
said to me that you were going
home to mark some papers.
So, how do you think I felt
when I looked through
your window and it
looked like the f***in' Waltons?
Oh, that's funny, because
when I looked through my window,
it looked like
the f***in' Mansons!
It's too hard.
- Where's yours, Sandy?
- Oh, for god's sake.
- I left it.
- Don't lie to me.
Shh!
You gave it to her daughter,
didn't you?
- What?
- Aye, I know.
I know what happened. She asked
you to do the interview.
You said no.
So she hopped into your bed.
- Lucy hopped into my bed.
- She hopped into your bed.
And then you said yes.
You know, she's just
using you, mate.
- Yeah, I've seen it before.
- Mm-hm.
Best thing you can do
is not do the interview.
I don't know if your head's
full of wee sweetie white mice,
but I will be
doing the interview.
And you're so wrong about Lucy.
- Oh, really?
- Really.
- We can all do interviews.
- What?
Imagine the interview
I could do about you.
Ah, f*** this.
So, you're still hell-bent
on a life of quiet
contemplation after the special?
Or can I tempt you
away from all that?
Why are you still pushing this?
Sometimes I wish the f***ing
thing had never been published.
Is it that obsessive?
That fan?
Is that what's
stood your back up?
No, no. Thanks to you,
all that's sorted.
Is it?
F***, f***, f***, f***
f***ing work with me!
Alright, mate?
- Change.
- Cheers.
What time do you stay open till?
- Twelve.
- Alright, man. Thanks.
Goodnight.
One day there was a fog
and I went out.
Got lost in it.
So, what do you think?
Yeah.
Yeah, I'm very happy with it.
No, no, I mean,
I mean about the cars.
- Do you know who did it?
- No, how would I know?
It was probably kids.
They run wild these days.
Not in your neighborhood.
Aren't you forgetting
that I do this for a living?
I know when someone's
not being honest with me.
You're imagining things.
That's what my
ex-husband used to say.
Sorry, I have to take this.
- Yes, Robert?
- - The delivery men are coming at three o'clock
and I'm snowed under here at
work. Could you do me a favor?
- Could you let them in for me?
- Yeah, but I don't even have a key to your...
It's never stopped you
in the past has it, mate?
F***!
Nothing like a drink
after work, eh?
Where is everything?
Now listen, Robert, I wanted
to make proper amends, you know.
I wanted to go that extra mile.
So, the lads who
delivered your sofa,
I got them to take
everything else away.
But don't worry you're
getting brand new stuff.
It's all gonna arrive tomorrow.
So.
Well, what'd you get me?
Well, you got a 40 inch TV.
You got a laminated floor.
You got a bookcase.
You got a coffee table.
You got a rug. You got cushions.
All on me.
All arriving tomorrow.
Ok?
Brilliant.
Right, well drink up because we've
got our night class to go to.
That's why I gave her an imaginary
rocking horse as a metaphor.
Sort of like the fog
in a patch of fog.
- Yes?
- Now I'm sorry to say this
but that's a load
of nonsense, Vera.
Why do you say that?
Well, because the fog's
not a metaphor.
- Isn't it?
- No.
No, the fog's not imaginary.
Right.
The fog's, the fog's real. You can see it.
You can touch it.
So how can something real
be a metaphor?
It does, doesn't make sense.
Maybe you should look up
the word metaphor
in your wee dictionary, Robert.
It is Robert, isn't it?
Now, over the break
I want you all
to write a story
based on this video.
Is that you, Sandy?
None other.
It's a creative arts
project I'm involved in.
You'll notice that I've
emailed you all a copy.
I want you to study it closely.
Who is this man?
What does he want? What stage
of his story are we at?
I want you to tell his story.
Use your imaginations
to the full.
It's only make-believe,
after all.
Have a good break.
Hey. Why did you do that?
- It'll never work, Sandy.
- Oh, it already has, Robert.
It's typical of my
teaching methods.
I made the video,
I sent it to my night class
and that's how
you got hold of it.
So why was it shot
in my living room?
- Really?
- It doesn't look anything like your living room.
Not anymore.
Well, Lucy. I'll tell Lucy.
She'll believe me.
I'll tell Lucy what you've done.
Yeah? And I'll tell Lucy
that you're a total nutcase,
you've been
stalking me for months
and you probably
wrecked her car, too.
Now who do you think
she's gonna believe?
And if I ever see you again,
if you dare go anywhere near
Lucy or Phoebe, I will set
the police on you like that.
Goodbye, Robert. I wish I could say
it was a pleasure knowing you.
It wasn't.
No, wait. Don't leave me, Sandy.
Don't leave me.
Right, if I've done
anything wrong, I'm sorry.
I can change.
But just give me another chance.
No.
You jumped in front
of a train for me.
I jumped in front
of a train for me.
We're not friends,
we never were.
I despise you.
I've always despised
everything about you.
I only put up with you because I had
to, and now I don't have to anymore.
Oh, well, I'll still
go to your class.
You can't stop me
from doing that.
- I'll still get to see you.
- No, you won't.
You are a disruptive influence.
If you show your face
around here again
I will see that security
show you off the premises.
No, no, you can't do that.
I can do that.
See, I'm Sandy Duffy.
Who the f*** are you?
You're on there.
I'm obliged to call the police.
I'll take you downstairs.
Stand on the street with you,
put me arm on your shoulder.
We'll wait for the
police to turn up.
Anywhere between
20 and 25 minutes.
Put your money away. Hey?
What happened to one guy
doing another guy a favor?
I get off in 20 minutes.
Fancy a little drink?
Well, f*** off then!
Hey?
Hey?
Who do you think you are?
Sandy Duffy?
You're not, you know.
Look, get out. Go on.
Go on, get out.
Lucy.
So, after your
mother passed away
your father's anxieties
became more pronounced
and he was diagnosed
with agoraphobia.
He never left the house again?
Only for his own funeral.
So is the novel autobiographical?
Or semi-autobiographical?
He was agoraphobic,
but was there really a fog?
Well, it was in the days before
the city had banned coal fires
and Belfast's like a valley,
so the combination of coal fires
and a cold snap produced a fog
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