Atonement Page #3

- Give it to me!

BRIONY:
They've run away.

EMILY:
Who has?

BRIONY:
The twins.

"We are going to run away because Lola

is so horrid to us and we want to go home.

- "Also, there wasn't a play."

- Don't worry.

We'll send out some search parties.

They can't have gone far.

Cee, you come with me.

LEON:
Pierrot!

CECILIA:
Jackson!

PAUL:
Boys!

Jackson!

LEON:
Pierrot!

Lola? Are you all right?

I'm sorry. I didn't... I'm sorry.

Who was it?

I saw him.

I saw him.

- It was him, wasn't it?

- Yes, it was him.

Lola, who was it?

It was Robbie, wasn't it? Robbie?

- You saw him?

- Like you said, he's a sex maniac.

And you don't even know

what happened before dinner.

I caught him attacking my sister

in the library.

I don't know what he'd have done

if I hadn't come in.

- You actually saw him?

- Of course I did. Plain as day.

He pushed me to the ground.

And then he put his hands over my eyes.

- I couldn't actually... I never actually...

- Listen. I've known him

my whole life, and I saw him.

Because I couldn't say for sure.

Well, I can. And I will.

LEON:
Call the police.

And she'll be needing a doctor, as well.

- It's all right, dear. It's all right now.

- CECILIA:
Is Robbie back yet?

I haven't seen him.

I know who it was.

- You saw him, then?

- Yes, I saw him.

- Just as you see me?

- I know it was him.

You know it was him? Or you saw him?

- Yes, I did, I saw him.

- With your own eyes?

Yes. I saw him, I saw him with my own eyes.

EMILY:
Well done, darling.

My brother and I found the two of them

down by the lake.

POLICEMAN:
You didn't see anyone else?

I wouldn't necessarily believe everything

Briony tells you. She's rather fanciful.

When they went looking,

I went up to my dad's.

- I did, honest.

- POLICEMAN:
Why was that?

To tell him all about it.

- I know I shouldn't have opened it.

- EMILY:
No, you should not.

But at least you've done the right thing now.

Sir, there is someone coming.

- Time you went to bed.

- But...

Now.

EMILY:
Cecilia!

You liars! You liars! Liars! Liars!

Northern France

Four years later

NETTLE:
I says to him, I says, "You can sit

down there, twiddling your thumbs,

"waiting to get your head blown off,

if you want to.

"I'm off out of it."

MAN:
Bonsoir monsieur. Bonsoir?

ROBBIE:
(WHISPERING) Let me do this.

MACE:
What's his game?

- He says he's got something for us.

- F***ing hell!

Wait! We have food for you

Bread, sugar

And wine!

What are you doing here?

When the retreat started, Panzers attacked,

and I was separated from my unit

So it's true, the English are retreating

We'll be gone at first light

We fought all those years,

lost all those dead,

now the Germans are in France again

We will come back

we will throw them out

I promise you

Good luck

NETTLE:
Come on, then.

How come a toff like you, talks French

and everything, ends up a private?

Not eligible for officers' training

if you join direct from prison.

- You're pulling my tit.

- No, I'm not.

They gave me a choice.

Stay in prison or join the Army.

And for the record,

the last thing I am is a toff.

Six months earlier

I'm sorry I'm late, I got lost.

- Hello.

- Hello.

- Should we sit down?

- Yes, of course.

- I'm sorry, I can't remember, I...

- Two. Thank you.

Where are you living?

Tiny flat in Balham. It's ghastly.

- The landlady's rude and horribly nosy.

- You look the same.

- Apart from the uniform, of course.

- Yes, I'm sorry. I've got to go back

- to the hospital in half an hour.

- Oh, God, that...

- Sorry.

- No.

Have you been in touch with your family?

No, I told you I wouldn't.

Leon waited outside the hospital last week,

I just pushed past him.

Cee, you don't owe me anything.

Robbie, didn't you read my letters?

Had I been allowed to visit you,

had they let me every day,

- I would have been there every day.

- Yes, but...

If all we have rests on a few moments

in a library three and a half years ago,

then I'm not sure,

- I don't know if...

- Robbie, look at me.

Look at me.

(WHISPERS) Come back.

Come back to me.

ROBBIE:
Dearest Cecilia.

Dearest Cecilia.

Cecilia.

A friend of mine has a cottage by the coast.

Said we can borrow it

when you're next on leave.

White clapboard

with blue-painted window frames.

- I hope this bus never comes.

- Here.

Something to think of while you're away.

I love you.

Some poor sod's gonna catch a packet.

CECILIA:
My darling. Briony found

my address somehow, and sent a letter.

The first surprise was

she didn't go up to Cambridge.

She's doing nurse's training

at my old hospital.

I think she may be doing this

as some kind of penance.

She says she's beginning to get the full

grasp of what she did, and what it meant.

She wants to come and talk to me.

I love you. I'll wait for you. Come back.

Come back to me.

ROBBIE:
Come back. Come back to me.

Come back. Come back to me.

NETTLE:
So where we going, guv?

F***ing hate those boots!

I hate them worse

than all the f***ing Germans put together!

You'll have a job getting back to England

in your socks.

Come on, pal,

you should be getting dressed.

- Lf I fell in, would you save me?

- Of course.

Briony!

Thank you.

Thank you! Thank you, thank you!

ROBBIE:
That's an incredibly bloody

stupid thing to do.

- BRIONY:
I wanted you to save me.

- Don't you know

how easily you could have drowned?

- You saved me.

- Stupid child!

You could have killed us both.

Is that your idea of a joke?

I want to thank you for saving my life.

I will be eternally grateful to you.

ROBBIE:
The story can resume.

Our story can resume. I will simply resume.

NETTLE:
Jerry, come and have a go at us

in f***ing South End.

Or better still, Trafalgar Square.

No one speaks the f***ing lingo out here.

You can't say, "Pass the biscuit," or

"Where's me hand grenade?"

They just shrug. Because they hate us, too.

I mean, that's the point.

We fight in France

and the French f***ing hate us.

Make me Home Secretary,

I'll sort this out in a f***ing minute.

We got India and Africa, right?

Jerry can have France and Belgium

and wherever else they want.

Who's f***ing ever been to Poland?

It's all about room, empire.

They want more empire,

give 'em this shithole, we keep ours,

and it's "Bob's your uncle"

and "Fanny's your f***ing aunt"!

Think about it.

ROBBIE:
Dearest Cecilia.

The story can resume.

The one I had been planning

on that evening walk.

I can become again the man

who once crossed the Surrey park

at dusk in my best suit,

swaggering on the promise of life.

The man who, with the clarity of passion,

made love to you in the library.

The story can resume.

I will return,

find you, love you,

marry you. And live without shame.

You can smell the sea.

F*** me.

- It's like something out of the Bible.

- NETTLE:
Jesus Christ.

OFFICER:
Come on, get everybody

to clean this mess up now.

ROBBIE:
We've just arrived, sir. Can you

tell us what we're supposed to be doing?

OFFICER:
Nothing. Just wait.

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