The English Patient Page #13

The shells are getting closer.

HANA:

What did he say?

OLIVER:

(can't look at her)

Doesn't know him.

A SHELL SUDDENLY LANDS ON TOP OF THE SITE, PERHAPS FIFTY YARDS FROM THE

TENT. THE LIGHTS GO OUT. THEN ANOTHER LANDS.

Everybody is on the floor, struggling to get on a helmet.

Hana lies down, the blood still leaving her, her helmet on. Oliver is

next to her in the mud. Her heart is breaking.

HANA:

He's gone, hasn't he?

OLIVER:

No. He's - no.

HANA:

Oh God. Oh God.

The shells pound them, incredibly loud, drowning out her grief, but

each explosion illuminates it for a moment.

102INT. THE MONASTERY KITCHEN. NIGHT.

Caravaggio comes into the kitchen. Hana is slumped at the table, her

back naked. The jug of water in front of her. She's sobbing, her

shoulders heaving. Caravaggio approaches tentatively.

CARAVAGGIO:

Hana?

(he touches her shoulder)

Hana? Are you alright?

HANA:

(without raising her head)

Don't touch me if you're going to

try and f*** me.

CARAVAGGIO:

(soothing)

I'll have some of your water. It's hot.

She reaches for her blouse, wraps it around herself. Her face is read

with weeping.

CARAVAGGIO:

(gently)

You have to protect yourself from

sadness. This is the thing I've learned.

(drinking the water)

You're in love with him, aren't you?

Your patient. Do you think he's a saint

or something? Because of the way he

looks? I don't think he is.

HANA:

I'm not in love with him. I'm in love

with ghosts. And so is he. He's in

love with ghosts.

CARAVAGGIO:

Who are his ghosts?

HANA:

Ask him.

CARAVAGGIO:

(he holds up his hands)

What if I told you he did this to me?

HANA:

(stung)

What? How could he have? When?

CARAVAGGIO:

I'm one of his ghosts and he wouldn't

even know. It's like he slammed a

door in Cairo and it trapped my

f***ing hands in Tobruk.

HANA:

I don't know what that means.

CARAVAGGIO:

(shrugs)

Ask him. Ask your saint who he is.

Ask him who he's killed.

HANA:

(furious)

Please don't creep around this house.

103*.INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.

Hana sits reading from the Herodotus. She shows the Patient the page

where a CHRISTMAS CRACKER WRAPPER covered in handwriting has been glued

in.

HANA:

Tell me about this, this is in your

handwriting - December 22nd -

Betrayals in war are childlike

compared with our betrayals during

peace. New lovers are nervous and

tender, but smash everything - for

the heart is an organ of fire...

(she looks up)

I love that, I believe that.

(to him)

Who is K?

THE PATIENT:

K is for Katharine.

104EXT. AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE, DECEMBER 1938. DAY.

A CHRISTMAS PARTY FOR THE TROOPS. The incongruous attempts to create a

traditional Christmas in the dusty heat of Cairo.

The Party is in the courtyard of the Moorish Palace which serves as the

private residence of the British Ambassador, SIR RONNIE HAMPTON. Lots

of Wives, including LADY HAMPTON and Katharine help serve tea and cake

to the SOLDIERS who sit at rudimentary tables with paper plates and

paper hats. A man dressed as SANTA CLAUS is giving out presents -

PENGUIN PAPERBACKS, CHOCOLATE. Music blares out from a loudspeaker.

Officers and Civilians walk the parameter. One of these, arriving, is

Almasy. He sits in the shade, catches Katharine's attention.

Katharine brings him over a cup of tea and a plate with Christmas cake

on it.

ALM�SY

Say you're sick.

KATHARINE:

What? No!

ALM�SY

Say you're feeling faint - the sun.

KATHARINE:

(but a frisson)

No.

ALM�SY

I can't work. I can't sleep.

Lady Hampton calls impatiently.

LADY HAMPTON:

Katharine!

KATHARINE:

Coming.

(to Alm�sy)

I can't sleep. I woke up shouting

in the middle of the night. Geoffrey

thinks it's the thing in the desert,

the trauma.

ALM�SY

I can still taste you.

KATHARINE:

(waving at another woman who

pushes a trolley with teapots)

This is empty, just coming!

ALM�SY

I'm trying to write with your taste

in my mouth.

(as she leaves)

Swoon. I'll catch you.

Alm�sy sits watching the party. The Santa Claus is dragged outside by

some excited Children. Alm�sy picks at his cake removing the thick

marzipan icing. He's writing on A CHRISTMAS CRACKER WRAPPER, smoothing

it out - December 22nd. Betrayals in war are childlike compared with

out betrayals du...

Katharine, attending to a raucous table, suddenly sags at the knees,

and SWOONS. People rush to her.

KATHARINE:

I'm fine. How silly.

OFFICER'S WIFE

(helping her to her feet)

It's the heat.

LADY HAMPTON:

You should sit down, darling.

(to the others)

She's quite all right.

(escorts Katharine away)

Are you pregnant?

KATHARINE:

I don't think so.

LADY HAMPTON:

(squeezing her arm)

How romantic. With Fiona I fell

over every five minutes. Ronnie

Christened me Lady Downfall.

KATHARINE:

I think I might go inside and sit

down for a few minutes.

LADY HAMPTON:

I'll come with you.

KATHARINE:

No, please. I shall be absolutely fine.

They pass Alm�sy, who doesn't look up from his book.

105INT. STORE ROOM. AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE. DAY.

A small STOREROOM inside the Palace - Brooms, Mops, Cleaning Equipment.

Outside, the party is visible as opaque shadows through the beveled

glass of the ornate window. The sound of carols sung by the enlisted

men gives way to a version of SILENT NIGHT played on a solitary

bagpipe. Inside, ALM�SY AND KATHARINE MAKE LOVE IN THE DARKNESS.

Everything is too fast, desperate, standing up, grabbing, hoisting

clothes.

106INT. CORRIDORS. AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE. DAY.

A CORRIDOR. Alm�sy appears and almost immediately collides with the

man dressed as SANTA CLAUS. He moves to one side.

CLIFTON:

Have you seen Katharine?

ALM�SY

(taken aback)

What?

CLIFTON:

It's Geoffrey under this.

ALM�SY

I haven't, no. Sorry.

106a*.INT. SIDE ROOM IN AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE. DAY.

Geoffrey continues scouting the warren of tiny rooms that run off the

central courtyard. He finds Katharine sitting in one, smoking,

surrounded by oppressive and elaborate tiling. Clifton wonders briefly

how Alm�sy had missed Katharine.

CLIFTON:

Darling, I just heard. You poor

sausage, are you all right?

KATHARINE:

I'm fine. I got hot.

CLIFTON:

Lady H said she thought you might be -

KATHARINE:

I'm not pregnant. I'm hot. I'm too hot.

CLIFTON:

Right.

KATHARINE:

Aren't you?

CLIFTON:

Sweltering.

(taking off his hat and beard)

Come on, I'll take you home.

KATHARINE:

Can't we really go home? I can't breathe.

Aren't you dying for green, anything

green, or rain, wouldn't you die to feel

rain on your face? It's Christmas and

it's all - I don't know - if you asked me

I'd go home tomorrow. If you wanted.

CLIFTON:

Sweetheart, you know we can't go

home, there might be a war.

KATHARINE:

(poking at his costume)

Geoffrey, you do so love putting

on a disguise.

CLIFTON:

I do so love you.

(he kisses her head)

What do you smell of?

KATHARINE:

What?

CLIFTON:

Marzipan! I think you've got marzipan

in your hair. No wonder you're homesick.

107*.INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. EVENING.

The Patient lies alone in his room. CLIFTON'S FACE stares back at him

from among the frescoes. Then something distracts him.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes