Touch of Pink Page #3

Well, it's an apartment.

And you have to share.

How will you attract a nice girl

when you're living with a lodger?

- You're certain I won't be intruding?

- Thank you.

Of course not.

Dee, you're gonna love her.

Well, if she's anything like Alim.

I won't mince words, Alim.

Neither of us is getting any younger.

You're right.

Ma, you're absolutely right.

- I'm a grown-up.

- Alim.

And I'm not with Giles

because of the money.

- You do it because you want to.

- Yes.

I understand.

- You do?

- You do?

It can be lonely

when you're all alone.

- I, of all people, understand this.

- Let's quit while we're ahead.

Ma, I didn't explain right.

I am not all alone.

- I'm in a relationship.

- Hello.

Nuru.

I'd like you to meet my sister.

- This is Delia.

- Hello.

Hello, hello. So nice.

She loves curry.

I was wondering if she could join us.

What do you mean,

you're in a relationship?

You told her.

Everyone knows but me?

Less congratulation,

more information. I'm only the mother.

Alim... We were concerned

about how you'd handle it.

Handle it?

Who could this frightening creature be

I can't handle?

Well, the creature's

not frightening. It's just...

Delia.

We're engaged.

- Giles, you just said dinner.

- No. No, you're not engaged.

- Yes, Ma, I am.

- You can't be.

- Why?

- Because she's not...

- What?

- She's not:

Is she?

She's not:

Oh, Muslim.

She's not male either.

You're right, Ma. She's not.

And you know what? Neither am I.

No, I'm not.

I'm not gonna pretend.

It was very nice meeting you both.

I hope we meet again one day...

...when there isn't a knife

plunged into my heart.

I just mean

I don't believe in God.

Oh, good. The knife has company.

I'll be leaving in the morning.

Fabulous exit.

Do my feelings matter

in any of this?

Not-so-fabulous exit.

- I am so sorry to drag you into this.

- Oh, it's all right.

My fianc's a gay man. I'm not.

Just another special moment

that makes my life mine.

Come on. Cheer up.

It was a bit messy,

but we got there in the end.

- He wanted me to come out to her.

- And you did. About being a heathen.

In the end, it's what's best

for you and Giles.

My, she was yare.

The True Love?

- Where did you...?

- I found her in one of the boxes.

Remember the fun we had

building her?

And sailing her.

So easy to handle.

Quick to the helm. Fast. Bright.

And you were a good little sailor.

Once you got over your seasickness.

- I was just a little kid.

- You were a great little kid.

Katie did her own stunts in

The Philadelphia Story, didn't she?

Why, it's a model of

the True Love.

- What?

- A boat he designed and built.

Sailed it down the coast of Maine and

back the summer we were married.

- My, she was yare.

- My, she was yare.

- Yare? What does that mean?

- It means...

... easy to handle,

quick to the helm, fast, bright.

All right, look, I need numbers.

Is it you?

Is it you and Alim? Or is it you

and Alim and this brain surgeon?

I didn't say she was

a brain surgeon.

It's all a little unsure right now.

Honestly.

The eggs are fantastic.

That's nice. I made them for Alim,

but never mind.

There's loads left over.

That's right.

My son will eat leftovers.

He likes cornflakes anyway.

Yes, and custard powder

and Bisto gravy.

First you, then Delia.

Now Battenberg cake.

Nuru, look. I'd really like it

if we could be friends.

I have my friends.

All the positions have been filled.

If there's a vacancy,

I'll be sure to get in touch.

Thank you very much

for applying.

Never heard that before?

Not part of your culture, is it,

Mr. Egg-stealer?

I'm sorry, I assumed

the eggs were for everybody.

You people always do.

Eggs, India, Africa, Middle East.

What's going on?

- What are you doing?

- I'm yachting. On my yacht.

Out late last night?

We single, unengaged fellows

like to do that.

- You were up late too, Alim.

- Where'd you go?

Out for a drink

with a friend of Delia's.

Alisdair Keith.

You know, the swimmer?

That movie you watched last night.

You shouldn't watch such rubbish.

It's not rubbish.

The Philadelphia Story is a classic.

- I don't know. The poor mother...

- You've seen The Philadelphia Story?

Those trousers are a bit tight,

aren't they?

The pants are fine.

The trousers are not fine.

I can read your credit card number.

I'll wear what I want.

- It's my life.

- Yes. But I gave it to you.

And if you want to give me

grandchildren to play with, then...

Ma, you're not gonna

have grandchildren.

- Why not?

- Because I'm...

You're leaving

my house, remember?

You won't be here

with your grandchildren.

- What now?

- Oh, nothing. Don't mind me.

Go forth. Breed.

Breed a dynasty.

I thought he'd never leave.

Now, beta, I've been thinking,

and I've decided I'll stay.

Tell your Delia to come for dinner.

You want Delia...?

If she's to be my daughter-in-law,

we have to bond.

Bond?

After all, she can always convert.

She's not a surgeon, is she?

Oh, never mind.

First, let her come for dinner.

I made your favorite. Eat.

Ma, why would Delia come to dinner

after yesterday?

If she cannot handle a bit of drama,

she won't fit into our family, will she?

- Does Giles have to be here?

- He lives here.

Can't he go somewhere?

I find him too familiar.

After all, he's a total stranger.

Strangers should be more strange.

He's not a stranger, Ma.

And Delia isn't my fiance.

I have no intention of getting married

or having kids or moving to Toronto.

I lied to get you off my back.

Because you just won't ever let up.

I see.

This is how you talk to your mother.

Excuse me, please.

Oh, I forgot.

Your horrible mother made you

mango-pickle sandwiches.

For your lunch.

I don't see why we couldn't have

Delia as your fiance.

I don't see why we couldn't have

Delia as your fiance.

- Such fun.

- You said Ma would go.

Well, she's not.

I had to do something.

And you did. You told the truth.

Documentary approach.

Interesting strategy. Need to be a little

careful with it, but you used it well.

Are you all right?

My life is just a soiled, tattered tissue

tossed into the toilet of life.

What will I do now?

You could write poetry.

Please. Don't bother.

I don't need your charity.

Wait.

I'm... I'm sorry, l...

Why don't we start again.

Let me take you around London.

I have a light day.

No, I've seen it all.

That was years ago.

Nothing's the same.

Come on.

You deserve a little fun.

I carried him for the nine hottest

months in the history of Kenya.

Practically broke my back.

Only 19 years old, my breasts already

like mangoes at the end of stockings.

Now he doesn't want his mother.

Tell me, what was in it for me?

Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean...

You'll love it. Really.

By the way, you're glowing.

So lovely.

I'm rather relieved he's not

marrying this Delia person.

- She's your sister, I'm sorry. I didn't...

- It's all right.

I really did like her.

A little thin.

Nice green eyes.

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