The Limey Page #7

ELAINE:

You look alike.

WILSON:

(cigarette in hand)

Perhaps it was the smoke.

ELAINE:

Not her brand.

WILSON:

She used to pinch 'em off me.

(trying to defuse Elaine's cold

stare)

Funny that. One thing she never tried to

get me to stop.

Elaine doesn't soften.

ELAINE:

Why did you come here?

WILSON:

Wanted to talk to you, didn't I?

ELAINE:

No, why did you come here?

America.

WILSON:

Sort a few things out.

ELAINE:

Been busy, have you.

WILSON:

How d'you mean?

ELAINE:

It's been a while.

WILSON:

I was skint -- didn't have no money to

get here.

ELAINE:

That's not what I heard.

WILSON:

What was that, then?

ELAINE:

I heard you were -- what's that adorable

phrase? -- "at Her Majesty's pleasure."

WILSON:

It was the bars, then.

Indicating his face, viewed by Elaine through the barred

security gate that divides them.

ELAINE:

In any case, I don't suppose the salary

you make sewing mailbags is really

commensurate with international airline

travel.

WILSON:

Sewing mailbags? Me? Never did an

honest day's work in my life, dear.

Wasn't about to start when I was in stir --

not with all that leisure time on my

hands.

ELAINE:

And not with all that buried loot you had

waiting for you when you got out. From

the Wembley Staduim job, wasn't it? Pink

Floyd concert receipts. Jenny would've

been...fourteen at the time?

WILSON:

(trying to conceal his

surprise)

Hardly buried. Earning interest, love.

Earning interest in an offshore account.

Tidy little premium per annum, that.

ELAINE:

Well, that kind of security can't be

bought. Must be more comforting than a

daughter to greet you.

She turns to walk away.

WILSON:

Here, aren't you gonna let me in.

ELAINE:

(without looking back)

Try calling me again.

INT. ELAINE'S APARTMENT. EVENING.

She comes in. A modest studio apartment. Puts her bag on

the kitchenette countertop. Glances at her answer machine to

see if she has any messages. The phone RINGS. She sits down

glumly on her couch, holds her head in her hands.

EXT. ELAINE'S APARTMENT BUILDING. EVENING.

Wilson gives up, starts to walk away. The gate BUZZES.

INT. ELAINE'S APARTMENT. EVENING.

Elaine opens the door. Wilson in the hall.

ELAINE:

I was just going to toss some vegetable

rolls in the microwave, open a can of

diet soda.

(beat)

Want to take me out?

CUT.

INT. RESTAURANT. NIGHT.

Wilson and Elaine at a table.

WILSON:

... No, I went in for more improving

pastimes. Philosophy classes, language

courses, European history, all that lark.

Did you know that in Paris in the

Eighteenth Century there were more rats

in people's houses than there were people

in people's houses.

ELAINE:

Sounds like Beverly Hills.

WILSON:

Here, are you always this sarky?

ELAINE:

Sarcastic, moi? Maybe I'll mellow when

my ship comes in. It's expected any day

now. I'm all packed and ready to go.

WILSON:

Weren't you on a television series?

ELAINE:

(has he seen it?)

If it played in England somebody owes me

money. Who told you that -- Eddie?

WILSON:

(yes)

Said it went on for donkey's years.

ELAINE:

Three seasons. They found that's the

limit of human tolerance when it comes to

following the adventures of a family of

Mormons on the Chisum Trail.

(blinks coquettishly)

I was wife number three -- the ingenue.

WILSON:

Oh, it just ended, then.

ELAINE:

Now who's being sarcastic?

WILSON:

When you've lost as many years as I have,

love, puts things in perspective, know

what I mean.

ELAINE:

I'm sorry. I guess the rest of us have

no excuse for wondering where the time

went.

(raises her drink)

It must've been the bars.

Their food arrives.

ELAINE:

It's a kind of prison, doing a series.

Early to bed, early to rise, no time off

for good behavior, you grab the boodle

for as long as it lasts.

(the kicker)

Only difference is you can't get arrested

afterwards.

Wilson appears fascinated by the cold glasses of water on the

table. Ice cubes CLINKING as he holds his. A BUSBOY

bringing them to other people, too, just like that, without

anyone even asking.

WILSON:

I can't believe Jenny told you all that.

About me. She was always so embarrassed.

ELAINE:

Not embarrassed.

WILSON:

(correcting)

Ashamed.

ELAINE:

Not ashamed.

Wilson looks at her. Okay. What then.

ELAINE:

Disappointed.

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