Testament of Youth Page #12

ROLAND:

Ted! Vic!

He goes over to them, they all shake hands. Vera hears

Edward introducing Geoffrey to him. She’s confused - this

is not what she expected.

92 OMMITTED. 92

93 EXT. BEACH - LATER 93

Roland is preparing to throw his army knife at an old wooden

post in the sand, as the others watch. He takes aim, and

throws - bulls eye. The men show their appreciation. Roland

goes and pulls the knife out, a swagger to him.

As he comes back -

ROLAND:

The worst is when you have to go

out and repair the wire. Boot

polish on the face, crawling on

your belly in the mud and rain.

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He sits on a dune, the others do the same.

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ROLAND (CONT’D)

I was out one night with an officer

called Harrison. We were so close

to the Germans we could hear them

whispering in their trench. Hast du

feuer?

The others chuckle, hanging off his every word.

VICTOR:

Were you scared?

ROLAND:

You don’t think about it. He’s a

good man, Harrison. I invited him

to stay, but he’s not interested in

home leave. Says it makes a man

soft.

VERA:

God forbid any of you should be

soft!

VICTOR:

If I could get out there I don’t

think I’d want to come back.

VERA:

(sharp)

You don’t know the first thing

about it!

Edward, sensing the mood, claps Victor on the back, indicates

to Geoffrey.

EDWARD:

Come on, let’s get some tea.

Vera is left there with Roland, a tense mood between them.

After a moment, Roland decides to head after the others.

VERA:

Roland!

He turns to her.

ROLAND:

That was unnecessary.

VERA:

Talk to me! Otherwise how can I

understand?!

ROLAND:

(hard)

Perhaps you can’t.

A pause.

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VERA:

I sent you some poems a while ago,

I don’t know if you got them.

ROLAND:

I don’t think so.

VERA:

Have you written any yourself?

Roland kind of snorts with derision at this idea.

ROLAND:

Poems?! Please...

He sees her stricken expression -

ROLAND:

For God’s sake!

He turns and strides away. Vera follows him, her skirts

catching round her ankles. He moves faster, as though

desperate to escape her.

VERA:

ROLAND!

She catches up with him, roughly GRABS his arm. He SHAKES her

off so hard, she stumbles and falls. He looks stricken, helps

her to her feet.

ROLAND:

I’m sorry - I’m sorry -

She grabs his hands.

VERA:

This isn’t the real you! This -!

She puts his hand to her cheek, then kisses it, then puts it

to her waist, almost forcing him to hold her -

VERA:

This is real! Feel it! Remember,

Roland! You and me together - now -

here - this moment!

He looks at her, raw, his armour cracking

VERA (CONT’D)

The most precious part of you -

don’t let war destroy it!

ROLAND:

It might be gone already

VERA:

No! It’s not! I promise you!

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He PULLS her to him, in a sudden, desperate hug - buries his

face in her shoulder. Vera hugs him back, holding him tight.

94 EXT. ABOVE THE BEACH, GRASSY SLOPE - A LITTLE LATER 94

Roland and Vera are sitting next to each other. Gulls keen

overhead. The mood is quiet.

ROLAND:

Harrison’s brother came back from

leave engaged to his fiancee.

Within ten minutes he’d put his

head above the parapet and got

his brains blown out. I was next

to him when it happened. (Pause)

Home leave makes you soft.

She strokes his hair, his face.

VERA:

We don’t need to get married, or

engaged!

Roland looks at her for a beat -

ROLAND:

Perhaps we should.

VERA:

It’s not what either of us wanted -

ROLAND:

Imagine it, though. You, in a

beautiful dress. A sunny day, an

old church. All the people we love.

Champagne.

VERA:

(gentle smile)

Cake.

He smiles - haunted.

ROLAND (CONT’D)

Does it get any better than cake?

A beat -

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ROLAND:

Marry me Vera, next time I’m home!

VERA:

(emotional)

Alright. Yes!

ROLAND:

It’ll give me something to fix on.

He hugs her to him, tight, his eyes burning.

ROLAND:

I’m going to live.

A WIDE SHOT of Vera and Roland, two small beings clinging

to one another.

95 EXT. BEACH, LOWESTOFT - DAY 95

Vera and Roland are flying a kite along the beach together,

running with it, as it flutters up and down in the breeze,

laughing.

Vera stops and watches him for a moment - the look of

almost childlike concentration on his face. Carefree, just

for an instant.

VERA’S VOICE

Our generation will never be new

again, or truly young.

96 OMMITTED. 96

97 INT. DORMITORY, CAMBERWELL - NIGHT 97

Vera, back in her VAD uniform, places a photo of Roland on

her bedside, gazes at it.

VERA’S VOICE (CONT’D)

Our youth has been stolen from us.

As for peace of mind, who knows

when it will return...If it ever

does.

98 INT. CHARING CROSS RAILWAY STATION - DAY 98

Vera is hugging goodbye to a uniformed Edward, next to the

train he’s about to board for France. The platform is

swarming with men in khaki and family members. Geoffrey is

saying farewell to Mr. And Mrs. Brittain.

Edward pulls some sheafs of paper from his coat, and hands

them to her with a smile.

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EDWARD:

My music. Keep it for me.

Vera nods, takes it.

Edward steps over to his father, shakes his hand. Then Mr.

Brittain pulls him in for a stiff embrace.

Vera overhears two company commanders walking past -

COMMANDING OFFICER

I wish they wouldn’t come, it

makes it so much harder for the

men.

The train whistle blows. Geoffrey and Edward bound onto the

train with a final, cheerful wave. Vera and her parents

watch, stricken.

99 INT. PLATFORM, CHARING CROSS STATION - A LITTLE LATER 99

Vera and her mother are about to enter the station cafe

when Mrs. Brittain looks around for her husband. She sees

him further along the platform, his back to them, seemingly

studying a timetable.

MRS. BRITTAIN

Go and tell your father to hurry

up, dear, will you.

Vera walks over towards her father, who is oddly immobile.

VERA:

(approaching)

Daddy?

She reaches him, realises he’s battling to hold down his

emotions. She puts a hand on his shoulder.

VERA:

Oh Daddy.

His shoulders start to shake - small, silent judders. She

gets out a handkerchief, hands it to him, he puts it over

his face.

100 INT. CORRIDOR, 1ST LONDON GENERAL - EARLY MORNING 100

Ward Sister Jones is holding the door open as nurses push

trolleys piled high with laundered bed linen through. The

mood is urgent.

SISTER JONES:

Move it! Move it!

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Vera, Betty and a few other girls come rushing along the

corridor, making hasty adjustments to their uniforms -

they’ve obviously been hauled out of bed.

SISTER JONES:

Two hundred extra beds by

lunchtime! Hurry now!

101 INT. CORRIDOR, 1ST LONDON GENERAL - LATER 101

A white sheet flutters up - and down onto a military bed.

Vera and Betty tuck the sheet in, as around them, other

nurses make up beds, and orderlies busily erect new ones.

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