Croupier Page #6

JACK:

Is that your idea of arithmetic?

DEALER:

I'm not a mathematician. I'm in

business.

JACK:

Eight-fifty.

DEALER:

Seven-fifty.

The DEALER looks at JACK. JACK stares back. It's as if one

is waiting for the other to blink first. Neither blinks.

JACK'S VOICE

He suddenly wanted to be rid of

it. 'Hang on tightly, let go

lightly'. It was a saying Jack

remembered.

JACK leans into the open car and takes out his hat and

cigarettes. He has accepted the offer. The music begins...

INT. UNDERGROUND - NIGHT

... And continues. JACK stands, with an unlit cigarette,

in a crowded moving train. He looks at the faces, MEN and

WOMEN. He sees PEOPLE reading books. He looks at the TITLES:

Romantic fiction, Classics, Business Management, Thrillers,

Self-Help, Cooking....

JACK'S VOICE

Jack imagined people reading his

book. One day he would enter their

heads, play with their imaginations,

test their feelings...

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

JACK crosses the road. He turns down a side street where

Victorian houses have been converted into flats. There are

scores of 'For Sale' and 'To Let' signs down the street.

JACK'S VOICE

He would tell them you have to

make a choice in life. Be a gambler

or a croupier. And then live with

your decision come what may.

He goes down into a basement, closing the iron gate behind

him.

INT. JACK'S BASEMENT FLAT - NIGHT

JACK unlocks the door, goes in, to the accompaniment of

street sounds and a dog barking.

JACK'S VOICE

Marion saw life differently. She

was a romantic. And thought he was

too.

INT. JACK'S FLAT - NIGHT

Radio music is playing from another room. An orchestral

version of 'Try a Little Tenderness'. JACK comes in, hangs

his hat up, looks around. He sees a neatly arranged vase

of flowers that wasn't there before. He goes to the bedroom.

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

JACK sees on the bed, an open box and a carrier bag from a

designer department store. Among the white tissue paper is

a simple black silk dress and lace-decorated black

underwear. He smiles and picks up the knickers. He goes to

the open bathroom door, from which comes the music.

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

A radio plays beside the bath. The water is draining away.

MARION NEIL, a red-haired woman in her mid-thirties, wearing

a bathrobe with the name MARION on it is examining the

lines on her neck in the half-steamed bathroom mirror. She

sees JACK, turns with a smile. JACK holds up the black

knickers.

MARION:

I couldn't resist them.

JACK:

You mean I won't resist them.

JACK goes to her.

MARION:

No, no. I'm not ready for you.

There's some vodka in the freezer.

JACK:

You want me drunk?

MARION:

(laughs)

I won't be that long.

She pushes him gently with the flat of her palms towards

the door.

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

JACK comes back into the bedroom. MARION pushes the bathroom

door, not quite closed. JACK tosses the knickers onto the

bed.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

JACK takes the vodka bottle out of the freezer, pours

himself a glass. He sees two bottles of wine opened, food

neatly prepared, ready to cook, an open cook book. He pours

a glass of wine.

INT. SITTING ROOM - NIGHT

JACK sits drinking his vodka. Looking up through the barred

window he sees women's legs passing on the street above.

On the desk beside the computer is the glass of wine.

MARION materialises in the door to the bedroom. She is

made up, wearing the black dress and high-heeled black

shoes, a black scarf around her neck.

JACK takes the glass of wine and gives it to her.

JACK:

You really are a beautiful woman.

MARION:

(pleased)

It's not just inner beauty, is it?

JACK:

Turn around.

MARION whirls to show off her dress.

JACK:

You're all I desire.

He reaches for an envelope on the desk. He gives it to

her. MARION opens it. There are several fifty pound notes

inside.

MARION:

Where did you get it?

JACK:

I. sold the car.

MARION:

You shouldn't have done that. I

know what it meant to you.

JACK:

I owe you for the rent. It's only

a car. I can get another.

MARION:

Take it back. Till you sell your

book.

JACK:

Come on, Marion. Let's face the

truth. Nobody's going to publish

it.

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