What A Girl Wants Page #5

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All right. All right.

Okay. Find your center.

Good. That's it.

Okay. Now.

You know what l still don't get?

Why are you trying so hard to fit in|when you're born to stand out?

-Hello?|-Five hours ago your daughter...

...rode off on a motorcycle|and hasn't been heard from since.

-Are we talking about a date?|-I don't know, but I dread to think.

The boy's in some sort of band!

Really? Cool. Let me guess,|he's a drummer.

-This is serious.|-As I recall...

...l spent a great deal of time|on the back of your motorbike.

Yeah, well, l think|that's rather different.

Strange how easy it comes, isn't it?

-What?|-Worrying.

-Does it ever go away?|-No, Henry, it doesn't.

Henry! Henry!

Libby, l'm sorry, l'm gonna have to run.

Darling, this really is important. l've just|had a conversation with a Bedouin translator.

Apparently there are certain drums|which indicate an actual marriage...

...whereas others they just use|merely for mating rituals.

-Have l just entered a parallel universe?|-Don't you see what this means?

lt's possible that you and Libby|never had a real wedding.

So there's nothing to interfere|with our plans! ls there?

lsn't that good news, Henry? Henry?

Here we go.

Hang on a second.

-Hello, sir.|-lan. l had no idea you were so versatile.

Henry, come along, lots to do.|The assembled press are waiting.

Hi.

-Hey. What are you doing here?|-Another one of my glamorous jobs.

-You look beautiful.|-Thanks.

-l have to be on my best behavior.|-You better be.

-There's more reporters here than usual.|-They're waiting to see what l'll do next.

Oh, yeah? You mean like kissing a guy|who parks cars?

Daphne, the press...

-...want a photo of you and your father.|-Thanks. l'll find him.

See you.

Stay away from her, peasant.|She's out of your league.

What's the matter? Thought our competition|ended in lower school.

Afraid she might prefer musicians|to Cambridge boys?

No. Breeding always|wins out in the end.

ls Miss Reynolds enjoying|her time in London?

-Very much.|-Lord Dashwood, how's the campaign?

Miss Reynolds, tell us|about the chandelier.

Maybe that's enough.

Thank you, no more now.

-Do you think he's terribly rich?|-l imagine so.

-l hope so.|-Peach?

Pear? You look...

-...different.|-lt's Daphne.

-She gave us some styling tips.|-Why would you want tips from her?

Lovely.

-Charming here.|-lsn't it just?

The race is that way.

Aren't you supposed|to be escorting Clarissa?

What? And leave you|to fend for yourself?

Or are you suffering|from the romantic delusion...

...that some non-talent commoner|will do it for you?

You know, l really wish you'd pull|your lip over your head and swallow it.

Despite myself, l find your Yankee|vulgarity intensely attractive.

So forget about the car parking,|mixed-race mongrel...

...and give me that kiss you've been|longing to give me since we first met.

You're right.

l have been longing to do this.

Henry, do something!

You should have hit him!

Don't you ever pucker your lips|at me, you arrogant jerk!

And how dare you insult lan?!|He's twice the man you'll ever be!

-Henry. Henry.|-Out of the way. Get out of the way.

What was the argument about?

-Give me the keys to your bike! Quick!|-Here you go.

What's going on?

You do know how to drive--

Look out!

Oh, sorry.

That is without doubt the most|indecorous thing l have done in years.

Well, l have no idea|what you're talking about, but l'm glad.

You should do it more often.

l don't even remember|the last time l went barefoot.

Don't you just love squidging|your toes in the sand?

Did you know it's a natural exfoliant?

Mom says if you can walk on a beach and|you got a steady hand with nail polish...

...there's no reason to ever pay|for a pedicure.

-You talk just like her, you know.|-As in too much?

ls she happy?

Yeah, l think so. l mean, l can tell|she gets lonely sometimes...

...but l think she's pretty content|with who she is.

-l like that about her.|-l wish l were more like that.

So, what next?

-No!|-Yes!

-No. No, absolutely not.|-lt's this or that.

l think we'll do this one.

How're you doing?

Henry?

That doesn't sound pleasant.

-What do you think?|-lt's just henna.

-What's this?|-l told you how groovy l was?

-Yeah.|-And l used to like people like this guy.

Oh, look. This stuff is good.

l've been looking for Coo Coo Ow!|Strange, funky sounds.

l remember them. ''Doris.''

-Come on, Henry.|-l'm not gonna head bang.

-You just bang your head.|-Don't do that. No.

-Nod!|-l'm not gonna do that. All right. Let's go.

l was just-- l wanted|to see if they still fit.

Well, they seem fine.

Who are you? What have you|done with my fianc?

l want my Henry back.

-Lord Dashwood.|-Lord Dashwood.

You've dropped 1 5 points in the polls.

-Are you worried?|-l really can't comment.

lf you can't handle your own child,|how can you handle the government?

-Frank, good to see you.|-Could you answer, please?

-How much time do we have?|-Plenty.

Your first two clients|were no-shows and...

...you got out of your speech|at the Children's Education Center.

-Why would we have canceled that speech?|-We didn't. They did.

Daphne, can l have a word?

This is Brigadier Sir Roderick Dashwood.|He lost an eye at the Battle of the Boyne.

And over here we have Field Marshal|Bingley Dashwood.

He lost his arm|at the Battle of the Nile.

And Uncle Alfred never spoke about what|he lost, but you'd rarely find him sitting.

l lost my tonsils.|Does that mean l qualify?

Listen, Daphne.

Part of the burden of being a member|of this family is that there are certain...

...codes of behavior|that one is expected to observe.

And if one is not seen|to conform, then....

Well, then it becomes....

Listen, l've very much enjoyed|our time together.

Really and truly. lt's just that this....

These are very difficult circumstances...

...and you, as my daughter,|have to....

l have to change.

lt's okay, l get it.

-l'm.... l'm a Dashwood too, right?|-Yes.

Yes, you are.

What are you looking at?|l can do it.

Not wearing that|to The Strokes concert, are you?

Oh, my God, l totally forgot!

-Things have been so hectic.|-That's okay.

l'll wait for you to get changed.

l can't go. We're going|to the queen's garden party.

-Yeah, but....|-l'm sorry.

Cool.

Just call me when Daphne|re-inhabits your body.

-And this is Miss Daphne Reynolds.|-Oh, Daphne.

Nice girl.

l gather Her Majesty's accepted|an invitation to Daphne's ball.

She's come a long way, l must say.|You must be very proud of her.

No.

This is the tiara that l wore|at my own coming-out party.

Clarissa's had her beady eye|on it for months.

But l want you to have it.

-So royal.|-l hope it makes you feel like a princess.

But you know, my dear,|it's not the crown that makes the queen.

lt's what's in here.

-Hello.|-Ladies.

Well, yes, of course.

Here she comes.

Daphne.

-You look....|-Different?

-Can we talk for a sec?|-lt's your party.

-You can do whatever you want.|-lan.

-l really didn't--|-l don't want to hear about it, Daph.

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