The Crying Game Page #12

As he walks toward her she sees him in the mirror. She talks

to Col the barman.

60.

DIL:

He's back, Col

COL:

Hi.

DIL:

Don't want any of those looks, Col. They

don't mean much.

COL:

Stop it, Dil --

DIL:

No. Tell him to go f*** himself.

Fergus sits. Col turns to him.

COL:

She wants me to tell you go f***

yourself.

FERGUS:

I'm sorry.

There is a tear running down her cheek, under the dark

glasses.

DIL:

Tell him to stop messing Dil around --

FERGUS:

Dil --

DIL:

Tell him it hurt --

FERGUS:

I have to talk to her, Col --

COL:

Says he's got to talk to you --

Fergus touches her arm.

FERGUS:

Come on, Dil --

DIL:

Where?

She whips her arm away.

61.

DIL:

Tell him again, Col. Go f*** himself --

She walks into the crowd, toward the door.

Fergus leaves.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT.

Fergus, walking outside Dil's place. The blinds in her room

are down and the light is on inside. We see her outline,

pacing up and down behind the blinds, smoking a cigarette. We

hear the song "The Crying Game."

Fergus stands beneath her doorway, scribbles a note, and

sticks it in the letter box.

EXT. CRICKET PITCH - DAY

A man removes a large number six from a huge scoreboard with

a pole and replaces it with a number nine.

Below the scoreboard we can see Dil walking across a lawn

toward the building where Fergus is working.

INT. SITE - DAY

Fergus, fitting a new window into the finished wall. On the

pitch we see the cricketers, distorted through the moving

glass of the window. Across the pitch Dil walks, with a lunch

basket in her hand, dressed in a very short skirt with high

heels. As she approaches the site a chorus of whistles breaks

out.

Fergus, hearing the whistling, stares out. He sees Dil moving

toward the site. He drops the window and the glass shatters.

As the whistles continue, we see Dil in the site's lift,

which rises up. We see Deveroux and Franknum climbing up a

ladder toward Fergus .

DEVEROUX:

How much did that frame cost, Mr.

Franknum?

FRANKNUM:

Two hundred quid, Mr. Deveroux.

DEVEROUX:

Your Pat just cost me two hundred quid.

FERGUS:

Sorry.

62.

DEVEROUX:

Sorry won't bring the bloody thing back,

will it, Mr. Franknum?

FRANKNUM:

Not in my experience.

DEVEROUX:

Off his wages.

FERGUS:

Do you mean that?

DEVEROUX:

He wants to know do I mean that.

FRANKNUM:

I'm sure you do, Mr. Deveroux.

DEVEROUX:

Bloody right I do...

Through this conversation Fergus can hear the chorus of wolf

whistles increasing. He looks out the gap where the window

should be and sees Dil in the lift. The laborers whistle at

her, looking up her skirt, etc.

She passes by a gap in the wall and blows a kiss at him.

DEVEROUX:

Is that his tart? Does Pat have a tart?

FERGUS:

She's not a tart.

DEVEROUX:

No, of course not, she's a lady.

FERGUS:

She's not that either.

Fergus walks out of the room.

Fergus walks round the scaffolding. Dil sees him and waves,

sits on some bricks and opens the hamper.

DIL:

Darling --

She is acting bright and businesslike, like any wife. She is

wearing dark glasses to cover the bruise on her face. She

pecks him on the cheek.

63.

DIL:

Never let the sun go down on an argument,

Jody used to say.

FERGUS:

What you doing here?

DIL:

Got your note. So let's kiss and make up,

hon.

FERGUS:

Don't call me that.

DIL:

Sorry, darling.

FERGUS:

Give it over, Dil --

DIL:

Apologies, my sweet.

Fergus smiles in spite of himself.

DIL:

That's more like it, dear. Have a cuppa.

She takes out a thermos and pours him some tea.

FERGUS:

You're something else, Dil, you know

that?

DIL:

Never said a truer word.

She hands him a neatly cut sandwich.

DIL:

See, I was always best looking after

someone. Must be something in the genes.

FERGUS:

Must be.

DIL:

And the fact that you didn't know is

basically the fault of yours truly. And

even when you were throwing up, I could

tell you cared.

64.

FERGUS:

You could?

DIL:

Do you care, Jimmy?

FERGUS:

Sure I do.

DIL:

You mean that?

FERGUS:

Yeah. I care, Dil.

She lowers her head.

FERGUS:

You crying, Dil?

He removes her glasses and looks at her moist eyes.

DIL:

I'm tired and emotional.

Then he hears a voice behind him.

DEVEROUX:

Do it on your own time, Paddy.

FERGUS:

What?

DEVEROUX:

Whatever it is she does for you.

Fergus looks from Dil to Deveroux.

FERGUS:

If I was her I'd consider that an insult.

DEVEROUX:

Consider it how you like. Just get that

bloody tart out of here.

Fergus stands up suddenly. He speaks quietly.

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