The Ploughman's Lunch Page #10
- R
- Year:
- 1983
- 107 min
- 365 Views
We find PHILIP standing by the bulletin desk, He is a
graduate trainee, 23 years old. Earnest in manner, slightly
ingratiating.
Immensely pleased with what he has just read, he moves
towards the summaries desk with a piece of paper in each
hand.
PHILIP:
James, look at this. At last.
James is standing by a secretary dictating.
JAMES:
Wait...and with talks at the United
Nations still making little
progress, tension and anxiety
settled on MPs of all parties in
Westminster. Speaking on the Jimmy
Young Show earlier today, Mrs
Thatcher said the prospects of a
peaceful solution did not look
encouraging. What is it?
PHILIP:
Take a look at these.
James glances over the sheets.
JAMES:
Not bad.
PHILIP:
Fifteen news items. I got exactly
the same running order as the
bulletin desk. They're all old
pros.
JAMES:
Terrific.
Philip moves on to show someone else nearby. We hear him
explain his triumph again.
James makes a gesture and expression of contempt for the
benefit of the secretaries.
A group of journalists passes through. James catches one
of them by the arm.
JAMES:
Can I use the phone in your office?
JOURNALISTS:
Sure.
INT. OFFICE - LATE MORNING
A small bare office. A few minutes later, James is speaking
on the phone to Susan.
JAMES:
(into phone)
You're being very elusive...tell
them you're ill...or leave early
then...do it properly, tell them a
lie...Okay, come when you can.
You've got the address...yes, it
will be nice. 'Bye..
INT. JAMES'S FLAT - NIGHT
Susan sits cross-legged in the centre of James's bed.
James lies along one edge, head propped on elbows. They've
been drinking coffee. We have the sense of a long evening
of talk, but not much else so far. A pause before Susan
speaks.
JAMES:
Why not stay?
SUSAN:
I have to be up early.
(She stands)
JAMES:
Me too.
SUSAN:
(straightening
herself at the
mirror. James
standing close)
Two or three years ago I would
have stayed. And f***ed you.
JAMES:
Too late. Just my luck.
He stands behind her and kisses her neck. She turns and
they kiss. Susan pulls away. She taps James's nose with
her forefinger.
SUSAN:
Now I'm more wary. I must be
getting old.
She reaches for her coat. James helps her.
JAMES:
You don't trust me.
SUSAN:
I don't trust anyone. That's what
comes of working in television.
JAMES:
In radio we're different.
SUSAN:
I bet. Thanks for the drink.
He opens the door.
JAMES:
I might see you in Norfolk over
the weekend.
SUSAN:
(smiling)
You just might.
She closes the door on her smile.
INT. SQUASH COURT - DAY
A day later. A glass-fronted Squash Court. James and
Jeremy are into a game. Both are inept and very unfit.
We COME IN on a rally. Jeremy misses an easy ball and
let's his racket drop. James sits down with his back to
the wall. Jeremy gets his cigarettes from the corner of
the court. They inhale smoke as if it were fresh air.
JEREMY:
That's enough of that.
JAMES:
We've been playing ten minutes for
Christ sake.
JEREMY:
Far too long.
A pause. Some keen SQUASH PLAYERS appear at the door,
peer in and go away.
JAMES:
What have you been up to?
JEREMY:
Well, everyone's desperate for a
new Falkland's angle. Purdy's
come up with a real dog. Worker's
rights in Argentina. So I've been
running round getting people to do
things. But no one's keen. Workers
rights. When did anyone on that
paper give a damn about workers
rights? I said to Purdy, "Look,
tits, bingo, jingo, horoscope,
sport, celebs, gossip and the
occasional firm stand on--"
JAMES:
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"The Ploughman's Lunch" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 24 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_ploughman's_lunch_500>.
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