The Ploughman's Lunch Page #2

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A high-ceilinged room in a publishing house, Bloomsbury.

A launch party. About forty guests. Waiters take round

trays with glasses of wine. By some large double doors is

a display of school textbooks. Most prominently featured

is the book being launched today - Goldbooks Schools Series

No. 5 The Cold War, edited by Prefessor J. Gerty.

James is led by a PERSONAL ASSISTANT through the crowd to

meet GOLD, who is surrounded by ATTENTIVE YOUNG MEN.

GOLD:

.....took him by the elbow, steered

him into a quiet corner and said

"Where do you think you are, young

man? Fabers?"

From the circle of polite laughter, Gold extends his hand

towards James.

GOLD:

Glad you could come.

PERSONAL ASSIATANT

James Penfield.

GOLD:

Good, good. Now is someone getting

you a drink.

PERSONAL ASSIATANT

Wrote the Berlin Airlift chapter.

Job done, P.A. fades.

GOLD:

I know, I know! Gentlemen, let me

introduce you to one of our most

talented contributors to The Cold

War. James Penfield. He wrote

the opening chapter, on 'The Berlin

Airlift'. One of the best chapters

in the book.

JAMES:

Hello.

GOLD:

I won't introduce you all by name.

Basically James, this is our UK

sales team. What was I saying?

Yes, these graduate trainees...

Twenty minutes later. JEREMY has just come in and is

surveying the room from the doorway. He takes a drink

from a tray, notices James across the room and smiles

ruefully.

Jeremy Hancock is a journalist, same age as James, good-

looking and well-dressed. A fairly corrupt look about

him, despite this. He is intelligent and intensely self-

regarding.

James makes his way through the crowd towards Jeremy.

They stand on the doorway - a position which affords them

a good view of the guests in the room and those guests who

are still arriving by way of a grand and ornate stairway.

JEREMY:

My dear James.

With mock solemnity, he kisses James on the cheek.

JAMES:

Not here.

JEREMY:

To the airlift.

JAMES:

To the airlift.

JEREMY:

Any sign of the goddess Barrington?

JAMES:

Not yet you know any of these

people?

JEREMY:

One or two. A grey lot. Some

social democrats. Some diligent

anti-communists. A political

section man from the US Embassy.

And this exquisite Californian

wine, courtesy of the CIA.

JAMES:

Nonsense.

They look across the room at Gold being listened to.

JERMEY:

By the way, I hear that your Mr.

Gold is about to become very rich.

I hope you told him that most of

the ideas in your Berlin airlift

chapter came from me.

JAMES:

F*** off.

SUSAN (O.S.)

So it's all worked out perfectly...

JAMES:

That's her.

The two men go to the head of the stairs to watch SUSAN

come up.

SUSAN:

She get's the house, he get's the

cars. And the baby is still in

Switzerland with the Au pair.

SUSAN BARRINGTON is in her late twenties. Flamboyant,

effortlessly confident, she inhibits that special world -

with its different rules - of the truly ambitious. James

fascination owes as much to the certainties of her class

as to her looks.

An attractive young man accompanies her up the stairs.

Jeremy makes a sound. Susan Glances up.

SUSAN:

Jeremy!

She waves and her elbow catches a tray of champagne being

carried downstairs. Glasses fall about her feet. While

apologising, Susan does not take her eyes off Jeremy.

SUSAN:

How Stupid! I am sorry.

The butler and the young man drop to the ground and set

about picking up the glasses. Susan regards them for a

moment, then steps round them and hurries up the stairs.

Jeremy and Susan go into a clinch, with kisses. James

stands a few feet off.

SUSAN:

Jeremy! How Fantastic.

JEREMY:

Darling Susan.

SUSAN:

You're so famous now.

JEREMY:

And you're so beautiful. What are

you doing here?

SUSAN:

We're thinking of doing this current

affairs thing for schools. World

history since 1945. Twelve

programmes, lots of stock film.

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