The Enlish Patient
The Saul Zaentz Company
THE ENGLISH PATIENT
Screenplay by
Anthony Minghella
Based on the Novel by
Michael Ondaatje
Directed by
Anthony Minghella
Produced by
Saul Zaentz
Revised Draft ( )
28th August, 1995
Copyright 1995 The Saul Zaentz Company
1 EXT. LATE 1942. THE SAHARA DESERT. DAY.
SILENCE. THE DESERT seen from the air. An ocean of dunes for mile
after mile. The late sun turns the sand every color from crimson to
black.
An old AEROPLANE is flying over the Sahara. Its shadow swims over the
contours of sand.
A woman's voice begins to sing unaccompanied on the track. Szerelem,
szerelem, she cries, in a haunting lament for her loved one.
INSIDE the aeroplane are two figures. One, A WOMAN, seems to be
asleep. Her pale head rests against the side of the cockpit. THE
PILOT, a man, wears goggles and a leather helmet. He is singing, too,
but we can't hear him or the plane or anything save the singer's
plaintive voice.
The plane shudders over a ridge. Beneath it A SUDDEN CLUSTER OF MEN
AND MACHINES, camouflage nets draped over the sprawl of gasoline tanks
and armored vehicles. An OFFICER, GERMAN, focuses his field glasses.
The glasses pick out the MARKINGS on the plane. They are English. An
ANTI-AIRCRAFT GUN swivels furiously.
Shocking bursts of GUNFIRE. Explosions rock the plane, which lurches
violently. THE WOMAN SLUMPS FORWARD, slamming her head against the
instruments. The pilot grabs her, pulls her back, but she's not
conscious. The fuel tank above their heads is punctured. It sprays
them both, then EXPLODES.
THE MAN FALLS OUT OF THE SKY, clinging to his dead lover. The are both
ON FIRE. She is wrapped in a parachute silk and it burns fiercely. He
looks up to see the flames licking at his own parachute as it carries
them slowly to earth. Even his helmet is on fire, but the man makes no
sound as the flames erase all that matters - his name, his past, his
face, his lover...
2 EXT. THE DESERT. 1942. DAY.
THE PILOT HAS BEEN RESCUED BY BEDOUIN TRIBESMEN. Behind them the
wreckage of the plane, still smoking, the Arabs picking over it. A
SILVER THIMBLE glints in the sun, is retrieved. Another man comes
across A LARGE LEATHER-BOUND BOOK and takes it over to the Pilot. The
Pilot is charred. His helmet has melted into his head. He's oblivious
to this, cares only about the woman who crashed with him. He twists
frantically to find her. Two men pick him up and carry him across to a
litter where they carefully wrap him in blankets.
3 EXT. THE DESERT. DUSK.
The Pilot is being carried across the desert. A mask covers his face.
His view of the world is through the slats of reed. He glimpses
camels, fierce low sun, the men who carry him.
4 EXT. AN OASIS. DUSK.
The Pilot sees a man squat down beside him, takes a date from a sack
and begin to chew it. Carefully, the Bedouin eases the mask from the
Pilot's face, leaving bandages of cloth and oil, but revealing a mouth.
He stops chewing and passes the pulped date into the Pilot's mouth.
Mouth to mouth.
4a*. EXT. DESERT. DAWN.
THE CARAVANSERAI CROSSES THE DESERT, silhouetted against the dunes.
5 EXT. AN OASIS. NIGHT.
The SOUND OF GLASS, of tiny chimes. A music of glass.
AN ARAB HEAD APPEARS ON A MOVING TABLE IN THE DESERT. It floats in
darkness, shimmering from the light of a fire. The image develops to
reveal a man carrying a giant wooden yoke from which hang DOZENS OF
SMALL GLASS BOTTLES, on different lengths of string and wire. He could
be an angel.
The man approaches the litter which carries the Pilot. He's still in
the protective reed mask, wrapped in blankets. The MERCHANT DOCTOR
stands over the burned body and sinks sticks either side of him deep
into the sand, then moves away, free of the yoke, which balances in the
support of the two crutches. He puts some liquid in the Pilot's
tongue, whose eyes almost instantly begin to roll. Then he slowly sets
about peeling away the layers of oiled cloth which protect the Pilot's
flesh.
The Merchant Doctor crouches in front of the curtain of bottles and
MAKES A SKIN CUP with the soles of his feet, then leans back to pluck,
hardly looking, certain bottles, which he uncorks and mixes in the bowl
he'd made with his feet. This mixture he uses to anoint the burned
skin. Next he finds green-black PASTE - ground Peacock Bone - and
BEGINS TO RUB IT on to the Pilot's rib cage. All the while he us
humming and chanting. The bottles continue to jingle.
6*. EXT. ITALIAN HILL ROAD. EARLY 1945. DAY.
The sand gives way to trees, the jingling bottles to distant church
bells, as A CONVOY OF TWENTY TRUCKS - Red Cross vehicles and some
supply vehicles - snakes along a bumpy hill road. The war in Italy is
largely over and the Allies are moving up the country, the wounded and
supply lines slowly following.
7*. INT. RED CROSS TRUCK. DAY.
A young CANADIAN NURSE, HANA, sits in a truck full of patients. Hana
pays special care to the PATIENT lying in the stretcher alongside her.
This is the PILOT - now known as THE ENGLISH PATIENT. A web of scars
covers the Patient's face and body. They have the quality of a livid
tattoo, magenta and green-black. The hair has largely gone and the
effect is curious, lassoing his features, the strong nose, the eyes
liquid. It's a warrior's face. But he has no physical strength. He
coughs violently as the trucks shudders along the road.
8*. EXT. ITALIAN HILL ROAD. DAY.
A JEEP pulls out of the line and approaches the Red Cross truck
containing Hana and the Patient. The horn blows and Hana looks out to
see it contains her best friend, JAN. TWO YOUNG SOLDIERS sit up front,
one driving, both grinning. Jan signals for Hana's attention.
JAN
There's meant to be lace in the next
village - the boys are taking me.
HANA
I'm not sewing anything else.
JAN
(mischievously)
You don't have any money, do you?
Just in case there's silk.
HANA
No!
JAN
Hana, I know you do!
Hana leans under the tarpaulin, holding some DOLLARS. The two hands -
hers and Jan's - reach for each other as the vehicles bump along side
by side. They laugh at the effort. Jan's GOLD BRACELET catches the
sun and glints.
HANA
I'm not sewing anything else for you!
JAN
(getting the money)
I love you.
The Jeep accelerates away. Hana sighs to the patient.
Suddenly AN EXPLOSION shatters the calm as the jeep runs over a MINE.
The jeep is THROWN into the air. The convoy halts and there's chaos as
soldiers run back pulling people out of the vehicles. Hana runs the
other way, towards the accident, until she is prevented from passing by
a soldier.
9*. EXT. ITALIAN HILL ROAD. LATER.
-- and there's still chaos as two SAPPERS arrive on motorcycles. One
of them, a SIKH, wears a turban.
The motorcycles arrive at the front of the convoy. A nurse, MARY, is
helping a doctor, OLIVER, attend to the injured driver. The other two
bodies are covered with blankets. There's blood everywhere. The Sikh
and his colleague pull out the paraphernalia of their bomb disposal
equipment.
10 EXT. ITALIAN HILL ROAD. DAY.
KIP, the Sikh Lieutenant, and HARDY, his sergeant, explore the road
ahead of the becalmed convoy, using saucer-like METAL DETECTORS and
HEADSETS. Kip is young, lithe, contained, utterly focused as they inch
along the debris-strewn road. He stiffens as he registers metal. With
a bayonet he carefully scrapes at the mud-caked surface. Something
GLEAMS. Suddenly, A PAIR OF FEET walks across his vision as HANA
HURRIES PAST, walking carelessly up the road. It's so surreal that
neither man registers at first, and then Kip is shouting.
KIP
Hey! Hey! Stop! Hey!
HARDY
Don't move! Stand ABSOLUTELY STILL!
Hana stops. Hardy gingerly follows her footsteps.
HARDY
(as he approaches)
Good, that's good, just stay still for me
and then we're going to be fine.
He arrives at Hana. Then grabs her. He'd like to slap her face.
HARDY
What are you doing?! What the bloody
hell do you think you're doing?
By way of an answer she looks at the ground ahead of her feet. Jan's
BRACELET lies in the mud. Hardy bends down and collects the mangled
bracelet, presses it into Hana's hands.
11 EXT. VILLAGE. DUSK.
The CONVOY is threading through A RUINED VILLAGE, passing the souvenirs
of war. An overturned vehicle now used as a game by some children,
dejected refugees tramping along the side of the road. From the end of
one of the buildings are hanging HALF A DOZEN CORPSES, strung upside
down with crude placards denouncing, in Italian, their collaboration
with the Nazis.
12 INT. RED CROSS TRUCK. CONTINUOUS.
Hana sees all this as she sits blankly inside the truck, the Patient
swaying alongside her. She puts out her hand to steady him.
13*. EXT. CONVOY SITE, ITALY. DUSK.
THE CONVOY is making a PITSTOP. The trucks are silhouetted in a line.
Hana helps lift the Patient's stretcher onto the ground. She bends to
him.
HANA
Do you need something?
The Patient nods. Hana gets up to prepare MORPHINE INJECTION from a
small kit. Mary arrives. Touches Hana gently, conscious of her grief
for Jan's death.
MARY
Are you okay? Oh God, Hana, you were
like sisters.
HANA
(sighs angrily)
We keep moving him - in and out of the
truck. Why? He's dying. What's the point?
MARY
Well, we can't hardly leave him. Do
you mean leave him? We can't.
Hana has settled down beside the Patient's stretcher. She draws
herself up against the night. On the hill above, she can see the
outline of A SMALL MONASTERY in the moonlight. She's crying, her face
a frozen mask.
HANA
I must be a curse. Anybody who loves me,
anybody who gets close to me -
or I must be cursed. Which is it?
The Patient laces her fingers into his crabbed hand.
14 EXT. THE MONASTERY. DAY.
Hana is investigating the MONASTERY OF ST. ANNA, wandering through its
overgrown gardens, past a pond. What sanctuary it seems to offer.
15*. INT. THE MONASTERY LIBRARY. DAY.
Hana explores via a gaping hole in a LIBRARY where the walls have
collapsed from shelling. The garden intrudes, ivy curls around the
shelves. Bloated books lie abandoned, and there's a PIANO tiled up on
one side. Hana presses the keys through the filthy tarpaulin which
covers it. Everywhere there are signs of a brief German occupation.
15a*. INT. MONASTERY CLOISTERS. DAY.
Past the Library is a CLOISTERS, drenched with silver light.
15b*. INT. THE MONASTERY STAIRS. DAY.
Hana goes upstairs, negotiating a huge VOID in the stone treads two
thirds of the way up.
15c*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
She comes across a small CHAPEL, with the remains of murals and an
altar pressed into service by the Germans as a table. Hana finds an
old bed, and a mattress.
16 EXT. THE MONASTERY GARDEN. DAY.
Hana comes out, passes a DRY WATER TROUGH. She hears a rustling on the
gravel and turns to see A TORTOISE ambling towards the trough. On cue
there's A GURGLING SOUND. THE HANDLELESS PUMP IS SUDDENLY GUSHING,
splashing water everywhere. The Tortoise, clearly arriving for this,
enjoys a welcome shower. Hana goes to the trough, dips her hands into
the water. Looks around her, and makes a decision.
17 EXT. CONVOY SITE. ITALY. DAY.
The Convoy is in the final stages of loading up. Oliver passes the
vehicles, deep in dispute with a determined Hana, who is carrying some
sacks of rice.
HANA
The war's over - you told me yourself.
How can it be desertion?
OLIVER
It's not over everywhere. I didn't mean
literally.
HANA
When he dies I'll catch up.
Oliver hovers as Hana adds the rice to a small cache of provisions,
then lays another blanket over the Patient.
OLIVER
It's not safe here. The whole country's
crawling with Bandits and Germans and God
knows what. It's madness. I can't allow it.
You're not, this is natural - it's shock.
For all of us. Hana -
HANA
I need morphine. A lot. And a pistol.
OLIVER
(clutching at straws)
And what if he really is a spy?
HANA
(impatiently)
He can't even move.
OLIVER
If anything happened to you I'd never
forgive myself.
Hana nods. A tiny smile. Oliver shrugs helplessly.
OLIVER
We're heading for Leghorn. Livorno the
Italians call it. We'll expect you.
18*. INT. THE MONASTERY. DAY.
TWO SOLDIERS are helping Mary and Hana carry the Patient into the
monastery. Hana indicates the stairs.
HANA
Up there.
They struggle up the stairs, one of the Soldiers gasping as he narrowly
avoids falling into the void in the stairs. The cot almost tips up, at
which the Patient SUDDENLY SPEAKS, his voice cracked and rasping, but
still clearly aristocratic.
THE PATIENT
There was a Prince, who was dying, and
he was carried up the tower at Pisa so he
could die with a view of the Tuscan Hills.
Am I that Prince?
Hana laughs.
HANA
Because you're leaning? No, you're
just on an angle. You're too heavy!
Mary laughs. They reach the landing. Hana kicks open the door to the
CHAPEL.
HANA
In here.
18a*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
Hana lets Mary take the weight while she goes to the bed and pulls away
the drapes, sending up a cloud of dust. They lower the Patient onto
the bed. She turns to the SOLDIERS.
HANA
Thank you.
She shuts the door on them, leaving Mary staring aghast at the room,
its faded frescoes, its mold, its chaos. Hana smiles, opens a shutter
to let a fierce envelope of light into the room.
HANA
Good.
She goes to Mary and hugs her.
19*. INT. HANA'S ROOM. THE MONASTERY. DAY.
A smaller upstairs room completely bare. As Hana tugs off her uniform,
she looks out of the window to see the departing Convoy. A cotton
dress goes on over her head and she emerges looking suddenly younger
and rather fragile. THROUGH THE DAMAGED FLOOR OF HER ROOM SHE HAS A
VIEW OF THE PATIENT BELOW HER. SHE LOOKS AT HIM. NOW SHE HAS SCISSORS
AND STARTS TO CUT OFF HER HAIR, NOT AGGRESSIVELY, BUT IN A GESTURE OF A
NEW BEGINNING.
19a*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
HANA walks down to the Patient's Room and stands in the doorway. The
Patient turns his head to her. He's grinning. He puts up a thumb. On
the track a song begins: Some Other Time.
20*. EXT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. 1938. LATE DAY.
THE SONG CONTINUED IN THE DESERT where we find the singer - PETER
MADOX, a weather-beaten man who is working on the guts of an BATTERED
TIGER MOTH AEROPLANE. His face is blackened with oil. A second
European, ALMÁSY, stands beside him, holding tools and a section of the
camshaft. Madox yanks out a perished rubber hose and holds it up for
Almasy to inspect. Behind them is an ENCAMPMENT - some camels foraging
in the meager scrub, half a dozen black tents of the BEDOUIN: guides
and servants to the Almásy/Madox Expedition. It's 1938 and the whole
continent is full of such expeditions, competing with each other,
pursuing lost treasures, sources of rivers, hidden cities.
D'AGOSTINO, the team's Italian ARCHEOLOGIST, drives towards the plane
in one of the expedition's adapted FORD MOTORCARS. He gets out
carrying a large earthenware WATER JAR. He looks very pleased with
himself as he shows the jar to Almásy and then passes it to Madox.
D'AGOSTINO
Thirsty?
MADOX
(sniffing inside)
What's this?
D'AGOSTINO
Don't drink it!
He reaches for the jug, then pours out a little sludge - it's a
brackish and stinks. Madox makes a face.
D'AGOSTINO
I can't guarantee the vintage, my
friends. I just dug it out of the hill.
Madox and Almásy have seen many such jugs.
MADOX
Excellent. That's terrific, D'Ag.
(to Almásy, of a tool)
Toss that up, would you.
D'AGOSTINO
(mischievously)
There are some others.
21 EXT. POTTERY HILL. DAY.
THE BASE OF A HILL SEEMS COMPOSED ENTIRELY OF POTTERY JARS.
D'Agostino emerges over the brow of a dune, leading Madox and Almásy.
The other members of the team are already there - BERMANN, a German
PHOTOGRAPHER and FOUAD, EGYPTOLOGIST from Cairo.
MADOX
(to Almásy, astonished)
My God, look at this!
They bend to touch the jars, literally hundreds of them, mostly broken,
piled on top of each other. Bermann approaches them, carrying his
tripod.
BERMANN
Incredible, Hmm? Quite incredible.
D'AGOSTINO
I've never seen anything like it. There
would have been enough water here to
serve an army.
ALMÁSY
(gloomily)
Which means we're in the wrong place.
Almásy speaks with a slight but unmistakable European accent.
D'AGOSTINO
Why?
ALMÁSY
Would you stockpile water near to an
Oasis? There can't be a natural spring
within fifty miles of here.
FOUAD
Or they didn't know of one.
BERMANN
So, it may not be Zerzura, still
incredible.
D'AGOSTINO
(nodding, delighted)
A pottery hill!
ALMÁSY
A wild goose chase.
MADOX
(firmly)
No.
Almásy gives him a look. But Madox will have none of it.
MADOX
No. Now we look in the other places.
We're eliminating.
The unmistakable buzz of AN AEROPLANE distracts them.
MADOX
Good, and here comes reinforcements.
21a*. EXT. BASE CAMP AT POTTERY HILL. DAY.
LATER and a smart new aeroplane, a STEERMAN, makes a smooth landing on
the flat desert. The expedition team drives over to meet the arrivals.
Almásy is not with them. He's walking, apparently not so enthusiastic.
A young, kissed and newly-married couple emerge from the plane. They
are GEOFFREY AND KATHARINE CLIFTON.
And it's immediately clear that Katharine is the woman in the plane-
crash at the beginning of the film.
Madox makes all the introductions. Hands are shaken, hellos all round,
as the couple disembark in their leather flying gear. Geoffrey removes
his helmet and, in what we will come to know as an ubiquitous gesture,
produces a bottle of CHAMPAGNE and sets off the cork with a flourish.
CLIFTON
I hereby Christen us the International
Sand Club!
22 EXT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. LATE DAY.
The party is in the shade of the tents. Almásy joins the group. Madox
nods over to the Clifton plane.
MADOX
Marvelous plane. Did you look?
CLIFTON
(beaming at Almásy)
Isn't it? Wedding present from
Katharine's parents. I'm calling it
Rupert Bear. Hello. Geoffrey Clifton.
MADOX
We can finally consign my old bird
to the scrapheap.
Almásy smiles and walks on towards the others.
D'AGOSTINO
Mrs. Clifton - Count Almasy.
KATHARINE
(smiling, offering her hand)
Geoffrey gave me your monograph when
I was reading up on the desert.
Very impressive.
ALMÁSY
(stiff)
Thank you.
KATHARINE
I wanted to meet a man who could write
such a long paper with so few adjectives.
ALMÁSY
A thing is still a thing no matter what
you place in front of it. Big car, slow
car, chauffeur-driven car, still a car.
CLIFTON
(joining them and joining in)
A broken car?
ALMÁSY
Still a car.
CLIFFTON
(hands them champagne)
Not much use, though.
KATHARINE
Love? Romantic love, platonic love,
filial love - ? Quite different things,
surely?
CLIFTON
(hugging Katharine)
Uxoriousness - that's my favorite kind
of love. Excessive love of one's wife.
ALMÁSY
(a dry smile)
There you have me.
23 INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. THE MONASTERY. MORNING.
The morning floods into the room. The Patient lies, lost in the
desert. Then a sudden CLATTERING NOISE disturbs him.
24 INT. STAIRS, THE MONASTERY. DAY.
Hana is dropping armfuls of books into the cavities of the damaged
stairs, and with others, she is improvising new steps. The heavy
volumes are perfect for treading on.
25 INT. LIBRARY. DAY.
Hana comes in, gathers up another armful of books and carries them out
to continue her stair repairs.
26*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
Hana enters.
THE PATIENT
What was all the banging? Were you
fighting rats or the entire German army?
HANA
I was repairing the stairs. I found a
library and the books were very useful.
Hana shrugs. She's attending to him, pulling back the sheets, plumping
up the pillows. He's short of breath.
THE PATIENT
Before you find too many uses for these
books would you read some to me?
HANA
I think they're all in Italian, but I'll
look, yes. What about your own book?
THE PATIENT
(reluctant)
My book? The Herodotus? Yes, we
can read him.
Hana picks up the book and hands it to him. Then she starts rummaging
in her pockets.
HANA
Oh - I've found plums. We have plums
in the orchard. We have an orchard!
She has peeled a plum and now slips it into his mouth.
THE PATIENT
Thank you.
His mouth works with the pleasure of the taste, a little juice escaping
from the mouth. Hana mops it up.
THE PATIENT
The plumness of this plum.
A noise, GURGLING sound, disturbs them.
THE PATIENT
What's that?
27 INT/EXT. THE MONASTERY. DAY.
Hana comes through the Cloisters into the garden as the gurgling
increases. She's in time to catch the TORTOISE arriving once again in
the WATER TROUGH just as it starts to gush with water. She shouts up
to The Patient's open window.
HANA
Water!
(bends to the Tortois)
You hear it, too, don't you!
28 INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
Close on the HERODOTUS. The Patient opens its cover, held together by
leather ties. Loose PAPERS, PHOTOGRAPHS, HAND-DRAWN MAPS AND SKETCHES
are all collected between the pages. He claws at some water-colors
which appear to be based on CAVE PAINTINGS - figures, dark-skinned
warriors of the stone age, some with bows in their hands, others with
plumes in their hair - arranged in abstract patterns uncannily like
those of Matisse. Some appear to be swimming, another is diving. Then
the Patient loses control of the papers and the whole parcel SPILLS to
the floor with a crack.
29 INT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. DUSK.
A SHOT RINGS OUT, disturbing the evening meal. Almásy and others go
outside. Silhouetted on a ridge, a group of men sit astride camels.
One of them holds his rifle aloft, clearly pointing towards the sky -
means friend. Fouad peers at the horizon.
FOUAD
European, I think, with guides.
CLIFTON
(can only see shapes)
How do you know?
MADOX
(frowns)
Yes, and I think I know who this is.
30 EXT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. DUSK.
ALMÁSY AND MADOX WALK OUT TO INTERCEPT THE ARRIVALS as the first Arab
dismounts, the procession of camels splaying out as if in collapse.
Almásy speaks in Arabic, exchanging the ritual greetings.
DURING THIS, FENELON-BARNES, sole European in this expedition, has
finally persuaded his camel to sit, and dismounts irritably, slapping
the animal in disgust.
FENELON-BARNES
Ugly brute. Shits and roars and
complains all day.
(bypassing Almásy and
approaching Madox)
Of course, you have your aeroplane.
Two now! Do you still call yourselves
explorers? I assume not.
MADOX
(stiffly)
Fenelon-Barnes.
ALMÁSY
Yes, I think a sailor can call himself an
explorer, can't he? Or should Columbus
have swum to America?
31 INT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. DUSK.
The arrivals come inside. Madox handles the introductions.
MADOX
I think you know all of us, except for
Geoffrey and Katharine Clifton, who've
recently come out from England.
CLIFTON
Apprentices.
MADOX
This is Clive Fenelon-Barnes.
FENELON-BARNES
(to Katharine)
I know your mother, of course.
KATHARINE
Hello.
FENELON-BARNES
I'm also searching for the lost Oasis,
but by more authentic means.
MADOX
(of Almásy)
Anyway, my friend here has a new theory -
that Zerzura doesn't exist. So we may all
be chasing windmills. Have some food.
FENELON-BARNES
Well, it's certainly not between here and
Dakhla. Nine days of nothing but sand
and sandstorms. An egg. I found an
ostrich egg and some fossils.
KATHARINE
Isn't Zerzura supposed to be protected by
spirits who take on the shape of sandstorms?
ALMÁSY
What kind of fossils?
FENELON-BARNES
I'll invite you to my paper at the
Royal Geographical Society.
Are you still a member?
He takes a long drink from a bowl of frothing camel milk.
ALMÁSY
I think you know I am.
FENELON-BARNES
(ignoring Almásy)
Quite impossible, Madox. You must know
that. If you attempt to cross the Sand
Sea due east of Kufra by car you'll leave
your bones in the sand for me to collect.
ALMÁSY
(leaving the tent)
If you come across my bones - I hope
you'll do me the honor of leaving
them in peace.
(to Katharine)
Excuse me.
FENELON-BARNES
You have my word as a gentleman.
(watching him leave)
I've discovered a unique type of
sand-dune. I've applied to the King
for permission to call it
The Fenelon-Barnes Formation.
32 EXT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. NIGHT.
LATER, supper over, the company is entertaining itself.
Almásy, standing outside his tent, watches the merriment from a
distance.
D'Ag is nearing the end of a passionate rendition of Puccini's E
Lucevan Le Stelle. He sits down to much applause from the others and
SPINS AN EMPTY CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE on the sand. It comes to rest pointing
at Clifton who gets up, grinning, and plunges into Yes! We Have No
Bananas with great gusto. His version involves CHANGING LANGUAGE
during each line of the chorus - prompted by Oui! or Ja! or Si! from
the others. Song finished, much bowing and guying, he spins the bottle
and it arrives equidistant between Fenelon-Barnes and Katharine - until
with a little NUDGE from the husband it settles on his wife. Katharine
gets up, awkward.
KATHARINE
I can't sing.
(the audience groans)
but I can tell a story.
(to Almásy, who has arrived)
I might need a prompt. Do you have your
Herodotus? I've noticed you carry it...
ALMÁSY
I'm sorry - what have you noticed?
MADOX
Your book. Your Herodotus!
Almásy looks uncomfortable.
KATHARINE
(reacting quickly)
It doesn't matter. Really. I think I can
muddle through. Okay - The Story of
Candaules and Gyges. King Candaules was
passionately in love with his wife -
(Geoffrey whistles proudly)
One day he said to Gyges, the son of
somebody, anyway - his favorite warrior -
ALMÁSY
(quietly prompting her)
Daskylus...
KATHARINE
(smiles)
Yes, thank you, Gyges, son of Daskylus -
Candaules said to him I don't think you
believe me when I tell you how beautiful
my wife is. And although Gyges replied he
did find the Queen magnificent the King
insisted he would find some way to prove
beyond dispute that she was fairest of
all women. Do you all know this story?
The men all encourage her to continue her story.
33*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. NIGHT.
- and Hana's voice CONTINUES THE STORY as she reads to the Patient who
listens, eyes closed, still in the desert.
HANA
(reading from the Herodotus)
I will hide you in the room where
we sleep, said Candaules.
She stumbles over the word.
THE PATIENT
Candaules
HANA
(not neurotic)
Candaules...you're laughing at me.
THE PATIENT
I'm not laughing at you. Go on, please.
HANA
When my wife comes to lie down she always
lays her garments one by one on a seat
near the entrance of the room, and from
where you stand you will be able to gaze
on her at your leisure...
34*. EXT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. NIGHT.
KATHARINE
(her story continuing)
And that evening, it's exactly as the
King had told him, she goes to the chair
and removes her clothes, one by one,
until she stand naked in full view of
Gyges. And indeed she was more lovely
than he could have imagined.
Almásy stares at her, framed by the velvet black sky. Katharine turns
to looks at him.
KATHARINE
But then the Queen looked up and saw
Gyges concealed in the shadows. And
though she said nothing, she shuddered.
The next day she sent for Gyges and
challenged him. And hearing his story,
she said this -
CLIFTON
Off with his head!
KATHERINE
#NAME?
death for gazing on that which you
should not, or else kill my husband who
shamed me and become King in his place.
Clifton makes a face of outrage. For Katherine the story has
collapsed. She wants it to be finished.
KATHERINE
So Gyges killed the King and married
the Queen and became ruler of Lydia
for twenty eight years. The End.
(an uncomfortable moment)
Do I spin the bottle?
Almásy shrinks away from the fire, disappears into black.
MADOX
(to Clifton)
And let that be a lesson to you!
35 INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. NIGHT.
Hana looks up from the Herodotus, sees the Patient's eyes closed.
Gently touches his face and whispers.
HANA
Are you asleep?
THE PATIENT
(lying)
Yes. Dropping off.
And Hana closes the book, gets up, and blows out the lamp.
36 INT. FENELON-BARNES TENT. POTTERY HILL. NIGHT.
PITCH BLACK and then A TORCH flickers on as Almásy enters Fenelon-
Barnes' tent. He pulls apart his luggage, quickly and methodically.
He finds what he is looking for inside a trunk: A LARGE FOSSILIZED
BRANCH; a collection of stone leaves, wrapped in a piece of tarpaulin.
Then he's distracted by a noise from Fenelon-Barnes' bed. Almásy
stiffens, turns to investigate. There's A LUMP in the cot. A dog?
Almásy eases back the blanket to reveal a YOUNG GIRL, no more than
fourteen, bound hand and foot. He holds the torch to her face.
37 EXT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. MORNING.
The next morning. Almásy and Madox prepare to take off. As they talk
Clifton's Rupert Bear taxis past them, a wave from Clifton and
Katharine. Madox is very disturbed by what Almásy is telling him.
MADOX
What did you think you were
doing in his tent?
ALMÁSY
Looking for the fossils. Why should we
wait until we're in London? This girl
was probably twelve years old.
MADOX
(getting into the plane)
You shouldn't go into another man's tent.
It's inexcusable.
ALMÁSY
Her hands and feet were tied.
MADOX
What did you do?
ALMÁSY
I looked at them. They're shrubs,
small trees. Exquisite. And
fossilized, rock hard.
He walks away to the nose of the plane.
MADOX
I was talking about the girl.
ALMÁSY
Cut the ropes. I left a note,
on his blanket.
(gleefully)
At the next Geographical Society I
shall await with great interest the
announcement of the Fenelon-Barnes
Slave Knot. The Girl wouldn't leave,
of course. Her father had sold her
for a camel.
He turns over the propeller, the engine cranks up.
38 EXT. GILF KEBIR PLATEAU. MORNING.
Both planes are scouting the Gilf Kebir region. Geoffrey flies up
alongside Madox and wiggles his wings. Madox waves.
They're flying over a distinctive group of GRANITE MASSIFS, Crater-
shaped hills. The broken towers of the Gilf Kebir. Almasy is
distracted by them. He turns to Madox and points down, indicating they
should explore them.
Madox gestures to the Cliftons to PHOTOGRAPH the Massifs. A THUMBS UP
from Geoffrey.
39*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. MORNING.
Hana gives the Patient his injection, now she begins to change the
sheet. The light streams in from the open window. She looks up at the
green hills rolling away from the Monastery, the village in the
distance.
HANA
I should try and move your bed. I want
you to be able to see the view. It's
good, it's a view from a monastery.
THE PATIENT
I can already see.
HANA
(bending down to his level)
How? How can you see anything?
THE PATIENT
Not the window - I can't bear the light
anyway - no, I can see all the way to
the desert. I've found the lost fossils.
HANA
I'm turning you.
An awkward moment as she rolls him on to his back. He grunts with the
pain. She washes him very tenderly.
THE PATIENT
Zerzura, the White City of Acacias, the
Oasis of Little Birds. As me about the
scent of acacia - it's in this room. I can
smell it. The taste of tea so black it
falls into your mouth. I can taste it.
I'm chewing the mint. Is there sand in my
eyes? Are you cleaning sand from my ears?
HANA
No sand. That's your drugs speaking.
THE PATIENT
I can see my wife in that view.
HANA
Are you remembering more?
THE PATIENT
Could I have a cigarette?
HANA
Are you crazy?
THE PATIENT
Why are you so determined to
keep me alive?
HANA
Because I'm a nurse.
40 EXT. THE MONASTERY GARDENS. NOON.
The TORTOISE heads towards the trough, to the gurgling accompaniment.
It reaches the shade only to be greeted by the obstacle of some tennis
shoes, a frock. It clambers over as the water begins to belch out.
Hana, naked, kneeling in the trough, receives the shower with a great
YELP of shivering joy.
41*. EXT. THE MONASTERY CLOISTERS. NIGHT.
It's dark, but something is going on here. Hana is caught by the stray
shafts of moonlight. She is SCRATCHING something on the flagstones.
Her skirt is bunched up around her thighs. She throws something in the
air. It's a SPILE, used to tap into the maple tree for syrup. It
lands with a crack. Suddenly she is flying across the space, a hop, a
skip, a jump. Then turns at the other end, dips for the stone, then
back again, in this blindman's version of HOPSCOTCH.
42*. INT. TRAIN. ITALY 1944. BEFORE DAWN.
AS HANA HOPS AND JUMPS IN THE SHADOWS SHE IS SUDDENLY ON A TRAIN IN
1944. A HOSPITAL TRAIN ploughs through the night carrying the wounded
back to Naples.
Hana walks through a long carriage. HER HAIR IS LONG. She could be
ten years younger than the Hana at the Monastery. And easy. She stops
at the bunk of A NEW PATIENT. Hana bends to the boy. He's had
shrapnel in his legs and cheek. She speaks softly to him.
HANA
How are you?
BOY
Okay.
HANA
Your leg will be fine. A lot of shrapnel
came out - I saved you the pieces.
BOY
You're the prettiest girl I ever saw.
HANNA
(she hears this every day)
I don't think so.
BOY
Would you kiss me?
HANA
No, I'll get you some tea. Wait till
you're in Naples. You'll find a
girl there.
BOY
(innocent)
Just kiss me. It would mean
such a lot to me.
HANA
(tender, believing him)
Would it?
She kisses him, very softly, on the lips.
BOY
Thank you.
He closes his eyes. Is almost instantly asleep. Hana smiles,
continues along the compartment. VOICES CALL OUT.
#1 INJURED MAN
Nurse - I can't sleep.
#2 INJURED MAN
Nurse? Would you kiss me?
#3 INJURED MAN
You're so pretty!
#4 INJURED MAN
Hinky-dinky parlez-vous!
HANA
(good-naturedly waving
away their joke)
Very funny. Go to sleep.
She gets into a corridor. Mary is coming the other way. She carries a
blood-soaked bundle. Hana questions her appalled expression.
MARY
Don't ask.
43 INT. RAILWAY STATION. DAY.
The train is arriving. Hana hangs out of a window, scouring the crowds
to find her sweetheart, STUART McGANN, a young Canadian Captain, who
seeing her runs up to her window.
HANA
Where are we going? I don't want to be
kissing in a crowd. I have six hours.
She jumps out of the moving door and into his arms.
STUART
(laughing at her ferocity)
Whoa - give me a chance!
HANA
Sorry. I took a Benzedrine.
The Station is full of desperate people trying to make do. the couple
hurry through, oblivious to anyone except each other.
STUART
I've got a surprise. A boat! We can go
to Capri. It's got a cabin, it's private.
HANA
I'd like to spend a night with you
in a bed.
STUART
We can do that when we're very very old.
44 INT. THE MONASTERY. HANA'S ROOM. NIGHT.
Hana lies alone in her bed covered by a curtain. There's a sharp
NOISE. She's very frightened. She has her pistol under her pillow and
pulls it out, listens, holding her breath. Another BANG. She listens.
45 EXT. THE MONASTERY. HANA'S GARDEN. DAY.
Hana has been reviving a vegetable patch. She comes to garden. CROWS
are feasting. She's furious, shouts, runs at them. Nature, wildness,
insisting on invading her peace.
46*. EXT. THE MONASTERY. GRAVEYARD. MORNING.
Hana appears from the Cemetery, dragging A METAL CRUCIFIX. It's bigger
than she is, and she drags it, as if approaching Calvary. A MAN
WATCHER HER FROM A BICYCLE. He's approaching fifty, grizzled and
attractive, and could be Italian. His hands are bandaged. Hana aims
the cross at the soil, but is not quite bit or strong enough. The man,
CARAVAGGIO, chooses this moment to introduce himself. He drops the
bicycle on the ground with a clatter.
CARAVAGGIO
(very cheerful)
Buon' Giorno!
Hana turns, startled and suspicious.
CARAVAGGIO
Are you Hana?
HANA
What do you want?
CARAVAGGIO
I met your friend Mary. She said I
should stop and see if you were okay.
Apparently we're neighbors - my house
is two blocks from yours in Montreal.
Cabot, north of Laurier. Bonjour.
HANA
(unraveling this information)
Bonjour.
He goes to her and - putting a bandaged hand behind her ear - PRODUCES
AN EGG. He beams, as does Hana.
CARAVAGGIO
I'd like to take credit, but it's from
Mary. My name's David Caravaggio,
but nobody ever called me David.
Caravaggio they find to absurd to
miss out on.
During this he attempts the same thing with his other hand to Hana's
other ear. THE EGG DROPS TO THE GROUND. Cursing, he gets on his knees
and starts to scoop it up, preserving it.
47*. INT. THE MONASTERY. KITCHEN. DAY.
Hana has taken his eggs and put them into a bowl. She beats them with
a knife picking out the bits of shell. Caravaggio watches, takes in
how little food there is otherwise. The table seems useful more as a
sewing area than for cooking - it's STREWN WITH ALTAR CLOTHS being sewn
into drapes. On a tray on the table are TWO PHIALS OF MORPHINE from
the Patient's room. As Hana turns to the stove, he's moved and covered
them with his bandaged hands, a second later and he's juggled them into
his pockets with the slightest clink. Hana looks at him. He shrugs,
nods at the eggs.
CARAVAGGIO
They're fresh. I haven't eaten an egg
in...have you noticed there are chickens?
You get chickens in Italy but no eggs.
In Africa there were always eggs, but
never chickens. Who separates them?
HANA
You were in Africa?
CARAVAGGIO
Yeah, for a while.
HANA
So was my Patient.
CARAVAGGIO
I'd like to stay. That's the long and
short of it. I mean, you know blah-blah
if it's convenient, if there's room
blah-blah-blah. I have to do some
work here -I speak the language.
There are Partisans to be -
(trying to paraphrase)
#NAME?
relieve them of their weapons, you
know - while we hug. I was a thief, so
they think I'd be good at that.
HANA
So you can shoot a pistol?
CARAVAGGIO
(showing his hands)
No.
HANA
If you said yes I would have had a
reason. You should let me redress
those bandages. Before you go.
CARAVAGGIO
I'm okay. Look, it's a big house. We
needn't disturb each other. I can shoot
a pistol! I'll sleep in the stables. I
don't care where I sleep. I don't sleep.
HANA
Because we're fine here. I don't know
what Mary told you about me, but I
don't need company, I don't need
to be looked at.
CARAVAGGIO
Fine. I'm not looking.
48 INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
Hana carries in a tray. There's OMELETTE on the plate.
HANA
There's a man downstairs. He
brought us eggs.
(shows him the omelette)
He might stay.
THE PATIENT
Why? Can he lay eggs?
HANA
He's Canadian.
THE PATIENT
(brittle)
Why are people always so happy when
they collide with someone from the same
place? What happened in Montreal when
you passed a man in the street - did you
invite him to live with you?
HANA
He needn't disturb you.
THE PATIENT
Me? He can't. I'm already disturbed.
HANA
He won't disturb us then. I think
he's after morphine.
(she's cut the omelette
into tiny pieces)
There's a war. Where you come from
becomes important. And besides -
we're vulnerable here. I keep hearing
noises in the night. Voices.
The Patient says nothing. She puts a spoonful of the omelette into his
mouth. He grunts.
49 INT. THE MONASTERY. STAIRS. DAY.
Caravaggio is in the shadows on the stairs. HE LISTENS.
50 EXT. CAIRO MARKET. 1938. DAY.
A STREET MARKET in full sway, a locals-only affair, blazing with noise
and bustle and barter. Emerging from a thicket of women and begging
children, KATHARINE CLIFTON carries her purchase of an exotic-looking
RUG. From nowhere she is joined by Almásy.
ALMÁSY
How much did you pay?
KATHARINE
(delighted)
Hello! Good morning.
ALMÁSY
They don't see foreign women in this
market. How much did you pay?
KATHARINE
Seven pounds, eight, I suppose. Why?
ALMÁSY
Which stall?
KATHARINE
Excuse me?
ALMÁSY
You've been cheated, don't worry,
we'll take it back.
KATHARINE
(bristling)
I don't want to go back.
ALMÁSY
This is not worth eight pounds,
Mrs. Clifton.
KATHARINE
I don't care to bargain.
ALMÁSY
That insults them.
KATHARINE
(turning to face him)
I don't believe that. I think you are
insulted by me, somehow. You're a
foreigner too, aren't you, here,
in this market?
ALMÁSY
(of the carpet)
I should be very happy to obtain
the correct price for this. I apologize
if I appear abrupt. I am rusty at
social graces.
(tart)
How do you find Cairo? Did you
visit the Pyramids?
KATHARINE
Excuse me.
He stands as she continues, pushing past him, shrugging off the
children, boiling.
51 INT. SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL. CAIRO. EVENING.
THE LONG BAR. The Exploration Team are drinking at a table. They are
not entirely off-duty - Almásy and Madox as ever ponder the maps.
Geoffrey Clifton appears, arms waving.
CLIFTON
Gentlemen, good evening!
He sits down. Madox hails the waiter.
D'AGOSTINO
How is your charming wife?
CLIFTON
Uh, marvelous. She's in love with
the hotel plumbing. She's either in
the swimming pool - she swims for
hours, she's a fish, quite incredible -
or she's in the bath. Actually,
she's just outside.
(responding to their
bewildered expressions)
Chaps Only in the Long Bar.
MADOX
(standing, embarrassed)
Of course. Well, we should all go
out onto the terrace.
CLIFTON
Oh no, really. She has her book.
MADOX
I won't hear of it. None of us will.
52 EXT. SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL TERRACE. NIGHT.
Katharine appears with Geoffrey to join the arriving Explorers. She
looks exquisite in her evening clothes. Madox brings her to her seat.
There is dancing inside, and couples walk to and from their tables.
Katharine manages to produce a dazzling smile which includes everyone
except Almásy.
MADOX
Mrs. Clifton, you'll have to forgive
us. We're not accustomed to the
company of women.
KATHARINE
Not at all. I was thoroughly
enjoying by book.
(indicating they should all sit
and then nodding at Almásy
before greeting the others)
Please. Signor D'Agostino, Herr Bermann.
CLIFTON
The team is in mourning, darling.
KATHARINE
Oh really?
MADOX
I'm afraid we're not having much luck
obtaining funds for the expedition.
KATHARINE
How awful. What will you do?
MADOX
A more modest expedition, or even wait a
year. Remind our families we still exist.
CLIFTON
(astonished)
Good heavens, are you married, Madox?
MADOX
Very much so. We are all, save my
friend here.
He nods at Almasy. Clifton appears tremendously relieved.
CLIFTON
I feel much better, don't you darling?
We were feeling rather self-conscious.
Let's toast, then. To absent wives.
D'AGOSTINO
(toasting Katharine)
And present ones.
KATHARINE
(toasting Almásy)
And future ones.
53 INT. SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL. NIGHT.
THE BALLROOM. A dance finishes. Almásy takes over from D'Agostino to
partner Katharine. They dance beautifully. The others remain on the
terrace in deep conversation.
KATHARINE
Why did you follow me yesterday?
ALMÁSY
Excuse me?
KATHARINE
After the market, you followed me
to the hotel.
ALMÁSY
I was concerned. As I said, women in
that part of Cairo, a European women,
I felt obliged to.
KATHARINE
You felt obliged to.
ALMÁSY
As the wife of one of our party.
KATHARINE
(sardonic)
So why follow me? Escort me, by
all means. Following me is
predatory, isn't it?
The dance finishes. They walk back to their table, where Almásy leads
Katharine back to her seat next to Clifton.
CLIFTON
I was just saying, I'm going to cable
Downing Street, see if I can't stir up
a few shillings - Katharine's mother
and the PM's wife are best -
KATHARINE
(interrupting)
Darling, for goodness' sake!
CLIFTON
Well, she is!
54*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
Hana, having already replaced the bedlinen, is standing on a stepladder
trying to hang home-made drapes around the bed as Caravaggio knocks
tentatively, then comes in.
CARAVAGGIO
Hello.
THE PATIENT
Finally! So you're our
Canadian pickpocket?
He goes to help Hana, they work as he talks.
CARAVAGGIO
Thief, I think, is more accurate.
THE PATIENT
I understand you were in Africa.
Whereabouts?
CARAVAGGIO
Oh, all over.
THE PATIENT
All over? I kept trying to cover
a very modest portion and still failed.
(to Hana)
Are you leaving us? Now's our
opportunity to swap war wounds.
HANA
Then I'm definitely going.
And she exits. The men consider her.
CARAVAGGIO
Does she have war wounds?
55*. INT. THE MONASTERY. HANA'S ROOM. DAY.
As Hana walks up her stairs she finds herself overhearing their
conversation as it threads up through the hole in the ceiling. She
strips her own bed of the curtain she uses for a sheet.
THE PATIENT
I think anybody she ever loves
tends to die on her.
CARAVAGGIO
Are you planning to be the exception?
THE PATIENT
Me? You've got the wrong end of
the stick, old boy.
(a pause)
So - Caravaggio - Hana thinks you
invented your name.
CARAVAGGIO
And you've forgotten yours.
THE PATIENT
I told her you would never invent
such a preposterous name.
CARAVAGGIO
I told her you can forget everything
but you never forget your name.
56*. EXT. BEACH CABIN. ITALY. DAY. 1944.
HANA IS STILL LISTENING BUT NOW SHE'S OUTSIDE A CABIN. She's in her
uniform, clearing things away. The Cabin door is ajar. An OFFICER
moves around, then sits to make notes.
OFFICER (O/S)
What about your rank or serial number?
THE PATIENT (O/S)
No. I think I was a pilot. I was found
near the wreckage of a plane by the
Bedouin. I was with them for some time.
THIS CONVALESCENCE HOSPITAL HAS BEEN FASHIONED FROM A LONG ROW OF
BATHING CABINS ON THE COAST, complete with Campari Umbrellas and metal
tables, at which are seated the bandaged and the dying and the
comatose, staring out to sea or in slow, muted conversation. Hana
walks up to the Patient's cabin. He is propped up with a view of the
sea, which is interrupted by the pacing Officer. Hana has a blanket
and a chart for the Patient's bed. She busies herself.
OFFICER
Do you remember where you were born?
THE PATIENT
Am I being interrogated? You should be
trying to trick me. Ask me about
Tottenham Hotspur. Or Buckingham Palace.
About Marmite - I was addicted. Or make
me speak German, which I can, by the way.
OFFICER
Why? Are you German?
THE PATIENT
No.
OFFICER
How do you know you're not German if
you don't remember anything?
THE PATIENT
You tell me. I remember a lot of things.
I remember a garden, plunging down to
the sea - the Devil's Chimney we called
it - and there was a cottage at the
bottom, right on the shore, nothing
between you and France.
OFFICER
This was your garden?
THE PATIENT
Or my wife's.
OFFICER
Then you were married?
THE PATIENT
I think so. Although I believe that
to be true of a number of Germans.
Might I have a glass of water?
Hana pours him a glass of water. He notices her.
THE PATIENT
Thank you.
(he sips)
Look - my lungs are useless -
(makes a small gap with
his fingers)
I've got this much lung...the rest
of my organs are packing up -
what could it possibly matter if I
were Tutankhamun? I'm a bit of
toast, my friend - butter me and
slip a poached egg on top.
Hana leaves, smiling at the Patient's irascibility, sharing this with
the Officer, who frowns. The interview continues.
57 EXT. BEACH CABIN. DAY.
Hana walks between the cabins. STUART steps out of the shade. He is
drawn, older than last seen.
STUART
My leave is canceled. I can't
meet you later.
Hana frowns, helpless. As if to emphasize this, a Staff Nurse comes
by, carrying a bowl and a withering look.
58*. INT. BEACH CABIN. DAY.
Hana enters, approaches the Patient. She's circumspect.
HANA
Excuse me -
THE PATIENT
Yes?
HANA
Can I ask - my friend, can he come in?
Just for a few minutes?
THE PATIENT
Your friend?
HANA
He's going back to the front this
evening. I can't see him otherwise.
THE PATIENT
Just go off. I'll be quite all right.
HANA
No, I can't go, but if it, if you weren't
offended, it would be very good of you
to allow us - every other cabin is crammed.
This is as private as we'll get.
THE PATIENT
Well then - yes. Of course.
HANA
Thank you. Thank you.
She hurries out, returns with Stuart. They stand awkwardly.
HANA
This is Captain McGann.
THE PATIENT
Please, don't waste your time on
pleasantries -
STUART
Thanks.
THE PATIENT
I'm going to sing. If I sing I shan't
hear anything.
And with that he bursts into a raucous, coughing version of Yes! We
Have No Bananas. He changes language each verse. The couple stand,
formal, then edge round to the back of the bed.
HANA
(touching his lip)
You've got a mustache.
STUART
A bit of one.
HANA
I was looking forward to this evening.
STUART
(whispers)
I had a hotel room.
HANA
(whispers)
I thought that was for when we
were very very old?
STUART
I'm feeling old.
They EMBRACE, fiercely, hardly making a sound, or moving. THE PATIENT
ROARS THE SONG.
59*. EXT. THE MONASTERY. HANA'S GARDEN. MORNING.
A battered open backed TRUCK comes into the Monastery. An ITALIAN
PARTISAN sits in the back, a SHOTGUN resting on his knees. The truck
stops, and Caravaggio emerges from the passenger door. He collects
some packages from the PARTISAN, including a dead RABBIT, and then
exchanges a few words with the driver. Hana, who's watching all of
this from her garden, sees that the driver is a WOMAN. The woman's
name is GIOIA, and Caravaggio leans into the window to make his goodbye
to her.
Caravaggio approaches the Vegetable Garden as Hana comes to greet him.
He throws her the rabbit, and hurries up the stairs without pausing,
clutching the other boxes.
CARAVAGGIO
Supper.
Hana calls after him.
HANA
Where've you been?
CARAVAGGIO
(not stopping)
Rabbit hunting.
Hana looks at the rabbit. She's angry. Caravaggio hasn't been around
for a week.
60*. INT. THE MONASTERY. DOWNSTAIRS CORRIDOR. DAY.
Hana heads up for the kitchen, then stops as there's a faint CRASH from
upstairs.
61*. INT. THE MONASTERY. UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR. DAY.
Hana, the rabbit still in her hands, comes along the corridor to find
Caravaggio SLUMPED on the floor, retching. The discarded NEEDLE lies
beside him, the new package of MORPHINE CAPSULES ripped open. He looks
up at Hanna, glazed.
HANA
I could help you. I could
get you off that.
CARAVAGGIO
Can you cook the rabbit or will you
try and bring that back to life?
She bends, starts clearing up, putting the morphine phials back into
the box.
HANA
It's a week. We didn't know where you
were - or if you coming back, or -
CARAVAGGIO
(of the drugs)
You should be happy. What were you
going to do for him when it ran out?
He pulls out more phials from his jacket.
HANA
What do you do? What are you doing here?
CARAVAGGIO
Some gave me a dress.
(starts to tear at a parcel)
You know what's great? What I'm learning?
You win a war and you not only gain the
miles you get the moral ground.
Everywhere I go, we're in the right.
I like that.
62*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
Hana comes in, carrying a batch of the new morphine. She's wearing a
different FROCK. It's not new, and it's faded, but the change of color
is startling.
THE PATIENT
Something smells so rich. My
stomach is heaving -
HANA
He came back, he says he caught a
rabbit. I'm cooking it.
THE PATIENT
That's a different dress.
HANA
He keeps asking me questions about you.
Do you know him? Do you recognize him?
THE PATIENT
Do I recognize him? I recognize what he is.
I like him. He's Canadian. He can read
Italian. He can catch rabbits.
63*. EXT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. DUSK.
Almásy squats with an ANCIENT ARAB outside his rudimentary house, while
he draws on the sand, talking in some arcane dialect, scratching out a
possible location for the lost oasis. The man stops speaking and
scours the sky a beat or two before we or Almasy hear the faint noise
of a PLANE. It's Clifton's Steerman, Rupert Bear, coming in to land.
Almasy doesn't look up.
The Arab continues to talk. The newly-arrived Katharine has scrambled
up the hill to speak to Almásy.
KATHARINE
(diffident)
Hello. Not to interrupt but
we're celebrating.
She makes to leave but Almásy puts up a hand to keep Katharine there,
but quiet.
ALMÁSY
This is an incredible story - about a man
hunting an Ostrich, he's been telling me
about Zerzura, he thinks he's been there,
but his map, the route he's describing,
he couldn't survive the journey now, but
he's a poet, so his map is poetry - and
now we're onto an Ostrich.
(to the Arab in ARABIC)
I'm telling her your map is poetry.
The Arab shrugs.
KATHARINE
What do you mean, poetry?
ALMÁSY
A mountain curved like a woman's back,
a plateau the shape of an ear.
KATHARINE
Sounds perfectly clear. Where does
the Ostrich come in?
ALMÁSY
The Ostrich is a detour. A poor man hunts
an ostrich, it's the method. Nothing to do
with Zerzura. To catch an ostrich you must
appear not to move. The man finds a place
where the ostrich feeds, a wadi, and stands
where the ostrich can see him, on the
horizon, and doesn't move, doesn't eat -
otherwise the ostrich will run. At nightfall,
he moves, fifty, sixty yards. When the
ostrich comes the next day, the man is
there, but he's nearer.
(to the guide)
Haunting the ostrich.
The Guide speaks, amplifying something, picking at his robe.
ALMÁSY
Yes, the ostrich, it will feed a family,
not just the meat, but by selling the
feathers, beak, the skin, a year from
this one animal. So, each day the
man gets closer. And the ostrich is
not sure - has something changed? -
now the standing man is only a few
yards from where it feeds. And then
one day, the man is in the wadi, in
the water. And the Ostrich comes, as
always, dips into the water and the
man JUMPS UP - and captures it.
He shrugs. The Arab has more to say. Almásy doesn't respond, quieting
him with a dismissive gesture.
KATHARINE
What is he saying?
(Almasy, awkward, shakes his head)
Come on, what did he say?
ALMÁSY
He said - be careful.
KATHARINE
Be careful? You mean you - or me? Who?
ALMÁSY
(to the Arab)
Her or me?
The Arab speaks again. Almasy speaks without looking at her.
ALMÁSY
The one who appears not to be moving.
64*. INT. TENT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. NIGHT.
Katharine comes in. Then, a beat, and Almásy. Clifton is holding up
the champagne.
CLIFTON
Gentlemen, to Zerzura.
ALL
Zerzura.
MADOX
And a special thank you to Geoffrey
and Katharine, without whose
fund-raising heroics we should
still be kicking our heels.
They toast the Cliftons.
CLIFTON
To arm-twisting.
MADOX
(to Almásy)
Did Katharine say? -
Geoffrey has to fly back to Cairo.
CLIFTON
Have to return the favor - take a few
photographs for the army.
KATHARINE
Darling, Peter says I could stay...
MADOX
(checking with Almásy)
Why not?
ALMÁSY
What kind of photographs?
CLIFTON
Portraits. The Brigadier, the Brigadier's
wife, the Brigadier's dogs, the Brigadier
at the Pyramids, the Brigadier breathing.
KATHARINE
(to Clifton)
Why do you think? About my staying?
CLIFTON
Well look, if nobody minds, truly, then
I suppose - I shall, of course, be bereft...
KATHARINE
(playfully poking his ribs)
Oh.
CLIFTON
But finally able to explore the Cairo
night-life. I shall produce an
authoritative guide to the Zinc Bars
and - I want to say Harems - am I in
the right country for Harems?
65*. EXT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL. MORNING.
As Clifton prepares to leave in the Steerman, Almásy approaches.
ALMÁSY
Safe journey.
CLIFTON
You too. Good luck!
ALMÁSY
Clifton - your wife - do you think
it's appropriate to leave her?
CLIFTON
Appropriate?
ALMÁSY
I think the desert is, it's - for a
woman - it's very tough, I wonder
if it's not too much for her.
CLIFTON
Are you mad? Katharine loves it
here. She told me yesterday.
ALMÁSY
All the same, I, were I you I would
be concerned -
CLIFTON
I've known Katharine since she was
three, my aunt is her aunt, we were
practically brother and sister before
we were man and wife. I think I'd
know what is and what isn't too much
for her. I think she's know herself.
ALMÁSY
Very well.
CLIFTON
(laughing it off)
Why are you people so threatened
by a woman?!
He settles into the controls. Almásy watches the plane taxi away.
Doesn't move at all. Katharine waves from the tent as the Steerman
takes off.
65a*. EXT. BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.
The THREE FORD CARS leave the campsite, loaded for a scouting
expedition. The rest of the party, Bedouin, tents, camels and Tiger
Moth is left behind. Madox shouts last-minute instructions from the
window of his car.
66*. EXT. DESERT EN ROUTE TO CAVE OF SWIMMERS. DAY.
FENELON-BARNES sits astride his camel, and wipes away the sweat. The
desert stretches for miles, shimmering, the sun baking the sand. His
GUIDES wind their headcloths tighter. Nobody speaks. Then one of them
looks round, raises a hand. A BUZZING noise. They all turn. A SMALL
CLOUD OF DUST EMERGES OVER A RIDGE. Locusts? A sandstorm?
A CARAVAN OF CARS, the Almásy/Madox expedition, bumps along,
suspensions threatened by the constant dips and ridges. On each car
there are three in the passenger cabin, the open backs crammed with
drums of gasoline and water and equipment. On the front vehicle, the
tenth member of the party, KAMAL, acts as a navigator and sits on a
CAMEL SADDLE, a rodeo cowboy, on the roof of the leading car, driven by
Madox. As they spot FENELON-BARNES they sound their horns and wave
good-naturedly. F-B scowls, watches them roar by, stealing his
thunder.
66a*. EXT. DESERT EN ROUTE TO CAVE OF SWIMMERS. DAY.
ONE OF THE CARS IS HOPELESSLY BOGGED DOWN IN HEAVY SAND. It's contents
have been unloaded, and a rope ladder is being inserted under the
tires. The entire company huff and puff and argue about the best means
of extricating the vehicle.
67*. INT. CAR EN ROUTE TO CAVE OF SWIMMERS. DAY.
LATER - Almásy drives the second car, accompanied by Katharine and Al
Auf. Katharine breaks the long silence.
KATHARINE
I've been thinking about - how does
somebody like you decide to come to
the desert? What is it? You're doing
whatever you're doing - in your castle,
or wherever it is you live, and one day,
you say, I have to go to the desert - or what?
Almásy doesn't answer. Katharine, who has looked at him for an answer,
looks away. There's another long silence.
ALMÁSY
I once traveled with a terrific guide,
who was taking me to Faya. He didn't
speak for nine hours. At the end of
it he pointed at the horizon and
said - Faya! That was a good day!
Point made, they lapse again into silence. Katharine boils.
KATHARINE
Actually, you sing.
ALMÁSY
Pardon?
KATHARINE
You sing. All the time.
ALMÁSY
I do not.
KATHARINE
Ask Al Auf.
Almásy asks Al Auf in Arabic. He laughs, nods.
KATHARINE
(sings wickedly)
I'll be down to get you in the taxi,
honey, you'd better be ready about
half-past eight...!
Al Auf nods and grins furiously, joins in, impersonating Almásy.
Almásy grunts in irritation.
68*. EXT. NEAR THE BASECAMP AT THE CAVE OF SWIMMERS. DUSK.
The group is investigating a cleft in the rocky massif. They climb
slowly. Below them, A NEW AND TEMPORARY BASE CAMP.
The group winds around the rock. Almásy turns to offer a hand to
Katharine behind him, pulling her up to the next rock slab. She smiles
at him. He smiles back curtly, continues.
The group stops at a level plateau. The Arabs stand apart and SING
THEIR PRAYERS AT DUSK. Al Auf leads the incantations.
AL AUF
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar...
The westerners wait respectfully. As the sun sets in glory, Almásy
looks over at the range of rocks. One particular range seems to look
exactly like A WOMAN'S BACK. He squints at the rock. Almásy
discreetly pulls out his COMPASS.
69*. EXT. CAVE OF SWIMMERS. DUSK.
Almásy clambers up the rocks, coming through a narrow crevice to find A
NATURAL SHELF. He scrambles up this path, reaching up, only to notice
that his hand almost perfectly covers A PAINTED HAND on the rock, and
as he digests this he realizes he has climbed past what is THE MOUTH OF
A CAVE. He disappears inside.
70 INT. CAVE OF SWIMMERS. FLASHLIGHT.
A FLASHLIGHT squirts into the cave. Almásy treads cautiously along the
narrow winding passage. He comes to an open cavern and takes his
flashlight up to a wall. PAINTINGS EMERGE, figures, animals, ancient
pictures. A giraffe. Cattle. Fish. Men with bows and arrows.
Almásy is astonished by what he sees.
71*. EXT. NEAR THE CAVE OF SWIMMERS. EVENING.
The others watch as a flashlight bobs and jerks among the rocks as
Almásy comes scrambling down, transformed into an excited teenager.
ALMÁSY
Madox! Madox!
He slithers in a heap in front of the astonished expedition party.
Doesn't care.
72 INT. CAVE OF SWIMMERS. FLASHLIGHT.
Almásy has led the whole party into the heart of the cave. Now Madox
comes alongside him at the wall, his flashlight joining Almásy's and
increasing the visibility of the paintings. A dark-skinned figure,
apparently in the process of DIVING into water, comes clearly into
view. Then others supine, arms outstretched.
MADOX
(with audible excitement)
My God, they're swimming!
The others crowd round. FIVE EXCITED FACES IN THE GREEN GLOOM OF THE
CAVE.
73*. EXT. CAVE OF SWIMMERS. DAY.
A hive of activity. The team has set up TRESTLES to catalogue the
finds as the Bedouin come out with baskets of detritus, which they
empty onto a growing heap as the Cave is cleared out. Entering the
cave, Almásy passes with camera equipment, just as D'Ag emerges
carrying the corpse of a perfectly preserved DESERT FOX. D'Ag gestures
to Almasy with his customary enthusiasm, holding up the body of the
fox.
D'AGOSTINO
Have you seen this? Astonishing.
Perfectly preserved.
74 INT. CAVE OF SWIMMERS. DAY.
Inside, Bermann is setting up LAMPS, running wires from a car BATTERY.
Kamal is helping him. And as Almásy arrives he catches a tiny moment
of tenderness between them. Bermann, seeing him, quickly disengages
and busies himself with the lights. At another wall, Katharine is
catching.
75 EXT. THE DESERT. DAY.
The CARS are heading back to Basecamp. They bounce over the sand.
76*. INT. BERMANN'S CAR. DAY.
Bermann is driving the lead CAR along some STEEP DUNES. Almásy beside
him. Bermann is peeling AN ORANGE, a segment of which he holds out of
the window. Kamal, riding shotgun, leans down and collects it, his
head dipping in to grin at Bermann. Bermann looks uneasily as Almásy.
He wants to tell him of his passion, of his absolute love for Kamal,
but he daren't.
BERMANN
I love the desert, you see. That's my,
that's my - I can't think of the word.
(Almásy nods)
How do you explain? To someone who's
never been here? Feelings which seem
quite normal.
ALMÁSY
(compassionate)
I don't know, my friend. I don't know.
Bermann holds out another segment of the orange, and watches the slim
brown hand collect it. A MOMENTARY DISTRACTION IS ALL IT TAKES FOR HIM
TO MISJUDGE THE LINE AND SUDDENLY THE DUNE COLLAPSES UNDER THE TIRE AND
THE CAR LURCHES SIDEWAYS AND TOPPLES OVER THE EDGE. D'Ag - following,
Fouad beside him - brakes sharply, but can't stop his own car from
being caught in the avalanche of sand, and IT PLUNGES DOWN THE DUNE AND
INTO BERMANN'S UPTURNED CAR WITH AN OMINOUS CRUNCH, the radiator
exploding. Only Madox, Katharine beside him, and a little way behind,
manages to stay clear of the trouble. He jumps out of the vehicle and
slides down the dune to find pandemonium as the passengers stumble out
of the cars, sand flying, smoke pouring from the upright vehicle, the
wheels of the overturned car spinning wildly in the air, a puddle of
oil spreading ominously.
77*. EXT. THE DESERT. DAY.
LATER and the group have cleaned up as best as possible. D'Ag,
Bermann, and Fouad are a little worse for wear. Fouad's arm is in a
sling, and D'Ag is sporting a bloody head-bandage. Bermann has broken
a finger and is being attended to by Madox. The luggage, water and
petrol have been stacked up and the men are loading up the remaining
car. Almásy is working at the crumpled end of the vehicle. He's
having no success.
78*. EXT. THE DESERT. DAY.
Almásy, Kamal and two of the other young Bedouin stand around the mess
of the two broken vehicles. The ONE WORKING CAR is loaded with men and
provisions. Katharine sits inside, next to Madox, Almásy comes over to
her window, to speak past her to Madox.
MADOX
I'll be back as quick as I can.
Thirty-six hours at the outside.
ALMÁSY
Try to get a second radiator, we'll bury
it between here and the Pottery Hill.
And a better jack. We planned badly.
MADOX
(nods at Almásy, then shouts over
to the wrecked vehicles)
Bermann!
This is Bermann's cue to take leave of Kamal who is staying behind.
Kamal makes a little bow.
KAMAL
May God make safety your companion.
Bermann nods and hurries away, squeezing into the car which jolts off,
bouncing over the track.
THE VEHICLE GETS ABOUT TWENTY YARDS, ALMASY WATCHING, BEFORE IT SINKS
FORLORNLY INTO THE SOFT SAND. IT'S HOPELESSLY OVERLOADED WITH PEOPLE.
THEY ALL GET OUT.
KATHARINE
I shall stay behind, of course
MADOX
Certainly not.
KATHARINE
I insist. There clearly isn't room for
us all, I'm the least able to dig, and
I'm not one of the walking wounded.
Those are facts. Besides, if I remain
it's the most effective method of
persuading my husband to abandon
whatever he's doing and rescue us.
It's hard to argue with this logic. Almásy shrugs.
LATER - THE MADOX CAR makes a more effective departure. And Almasy and
Katharine are left alone. THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER as if realizing this
for the first time. Almasy immediately returns to the two damaged
vehicles and helps the men stretch the cut canvas which was once a tent
TO FASHION A MAKESHIFT SHELTER BETWEEN THE TWO CARS. Katharine goes to
join them. There is no obstacle to the remorseless horizon, just miles
of undulating dunes.
79 INT. SHELTER. DAY.
Almásy sits alone, writing into HIS HERODOTUS, a map folded in front of
him, from which he makes notes. Katherine comes across with a clutch
of her SKETCHES from the Cave wall. Hands them to him. They're
beautiful.
ALMÁSY
What's this?
KATHARINE
I thought you might paste them
into your book.
ALMÁSY
We took several photographs,
there's no need.
KATHARINE
I'd like you to have them.
ALMÁSY
(handing them back)
There's really no need. This is
just a scrapbook. I should feel
obliged. Thank you.
KATHARINE
(exasperated)
And that would be unconscionable,
I suppose, to feel any obligation?
Yes. Of course it would.
She's already turning, walking as far from him as the cramped shelter
permits. He continues with his maps.
80 EXT. THE DESERT. NIGHT.
Katharine sits alone on top of the Dune, smoking, surveying the
landscape. Below her the makeshift camp - a fresh wind flicking at the
tarpaulin, THE DEEP TRACKS OF MADOX'S CAR STRETCHING OFF TOWARDS
CIVILIZATION. Almásy emerges from the tent and, locating Katharine,
heads towards her.
ALMÁSY
You should come into the shelter.
KATHARINE
I'm quite all right, thank you.
ALMÁSY
Look over there.
Katharine turns, scans the horizon.
KATHARINE
What am I looking at?
ALMÁSY
See what's happening to them -
the stars.
KATHARINE
They're so untidy. I'm just trying
to rearrange them.
ALMÁSY
In an hour there will be no stars.
The air is filling with sand.
He offers a hand. A little reluctantly she takes it.
81 EXT. SHELTER. NIGHT.
The team hurries around the improvised tent, weighing it down with
packing cases, gasoline drums, water cans, bringing anything loose or
light inside the tarpaulin. THE WIND is whipping up, the air busy with
sand. Almásy pushes everyone under cover.
82 INT. SHELTER. NIGHT.
THE SAND SEEMS TO BE SCOURING THE TARPAULIN. Kamal and Almásy try to
secure one vulnerable area, but suddenly there are leaks everywhere and
the sand swarms inside.
It's noisy, too, and Almásy has to shout to make himself understood,
indicating to the Bedouin to grab water and blankets and food, all the
valuables, and get out. He himself finds blankets and water and shouts
at Katharine to do the same. One side of the canvas suddenly RIPS
apart like paper. Chaos as figures struggle in ever-worsening
conditions, sand blizzarding the air.
83 EXT. SHELTER. NIGHT.
THE SHELTER FLIES INTO THE AIR, stranding the figures, their heads
wrapped in blankets, flashlights useless. They seek safety in two
groups, the tribesmen to the cabin of the overturned car, Katharine and
Almásy to the upright one.
84 INT. CAR. NIGHT.
Inside the cabin, the sand swirling around them, Katharine and Almásy
sit without speaking. Dawn is trying to break through. He pours a
little water into a mug so that they can wash out their eyes and noses
and mouths. She takes her silk scarf and first dries her eyes with it,
then dries his.
KATHARINE
This is not very good, is it?
ALMÁSY
No.
KATHARINE
Shall we be all right?
ALMÁSY
Yes. Absolutely.
KATHARINE
Yes is a comfort. Absolutely is not.
85 EXT. THE DESERT. DAWN.
The sand is piling up against the two cars, the tent is swept from its
moorings, the water cans are hurled up too, and then plunge ominously
into sand drifts as if going under an ocean.
ALMÁSY (O/S)
...let me tell you about winds. There
is a whirlwind in Southern Morocco, the
Aajej, against which the fellahin defend
themselves with knives. The Ghibli from
Tunis rolls and rolls and produces a
rather strange nervous condition...
And we hear Katharine's laugh.
86 INT. CAR. DAWN.
Almasy sits alongside Katharine, whose head is against his shoulder.
He continues his story of winds.
ALMÁSY
#NAME?
Which Mariners called the sea of
darkness. Red sand from this wind
has flown as far as the south coast
of England, producing showers so
dense they were mistaken for blood.
Almasy checks to see if Katharine is still awake.
KATHARINE
Fiction. We had a house on that coast
and it never rained blood. Go on. More.
ALMÁSY
All true. Herodotus, your friend, tells
of a wind - the Simoon - so evil that a
nation declared war on it and marched
out to fight it in full battle dress,
their swords raised.
87*. EXT. THE DESERT. DAY.
MORNING. The sand has almost COMPLETELY ENGULFED the car on the
exposed side, covering the windshield like snow, and encroaching onto
the door of the protected flank.
88*. INT. CAR. DAY.
Almásy is woken by sound of A DISTANT ENGINE. He jerks up, waking
Katharine in the process, and heaves against the door. He can't open
it, and has to lean his feet against the passenger door, lying across
Katharine, kicking it open.
89*. EXT. THE DESERT. DAY.
By the time Almásy emerges from the car, the sand pouring into the
cabin, MADOX'S CAR IS ROARING ALONG THE HORIZON. Almásy waves, shouts,
and then runs back into the car, finds his flare-gun, and SENDS A FLARE
high into the sky. Katharine is with him now, and they watch,
helplessly, as the car bounces away from them, Madox a man on a
mission. Katharine panics, THE SAND HAS ERASED ALL TRACES OF THEM.
She speaks quietly, shocked.
KATHARINE
Our tracks, where are they?
Almásy is preoccupied. He's gone back to their vehicle and returns
with a shovel, STARTS TO DIG FRANTICALLY.
ALMÁSY
Madox will have calculated how many
miles, they'll soon turn around.
KATHARINE
(realizing what he's doing)
Oh my God, the others!
She kneels with him and helps to shovel away the sand WHICH HAS
COMPLETELY ENGULFED THE OTHER VEHICLE containing the three Bedouin.
ALMÁSY
(during this)
Could I ask you, please, to paste you
paintings into my book? I should like
to have them. I should be honored.
KATHARINE
Of course. Is it, am I a terrible
coward to ask how much water we have?
ALMÁSY
(shoveling hard)
Water? Yes, we have water, we have
a little in our can, we have water in
the radiator which can be drunk. Not
at all cowardly, extremely practical.
(anxious at not uncovering
the boys, egging himself on)
Come on, come on!
(then back to Katharine)
There's also a plant - I've never seen
it but I'm told you can cut a piece the
size of a heart from this plant and
the next day it will be filled with a
delicious liquid.
KATHARINE
Find that plant. Cut out its heart.
They hear NOISES, scrabbling, faint thumps. Almásy scrapes at the sand
and they find the glass of the car. The angle of the cab, tilted up to
the sky, has made it impossible for the trapped boys to lever it open.
Their oxygen is rapidly deteriorating. Almásy pulls the door and it
cranks open.
90*. EXT. THE DESERT. DAY.
Katharine sits in the car, putting her pictures into the Herodotus.
It's full of ALMÁSY'S HANDWRITING, PHOTOGRAPHS, SOME PRESSED FLOWERS.
She deciphers a page of his words and drawings. It's almost
exclusively about her, the lines studded with K.s. She reads,
astonished, then looks at him as he and two of the three Bedouin circle
the area of the cars in ever-widening circles, like water-diviners,
like Kip searches for mines. Kamal is slumped against the front of the
car. He's sick. Almásy suddenly drops to his knees and begins to
shovel into the sand. He pulls out A CAN OF WATER. Turns to Katharine
and holds it triumphantly in the air.
91*. INT. THE DESERT. NIGHT.
There's a small, weak fire. The group crouch around it. The boys talk
noisily to Almásy. Kamal is wrapped in a blanket and shivering.
Almásy gives him water, speaks to Katherine.
ALMÁSY
Kamal is passing blood. He must have
had some internal damage in the crash.
He needs medicine. I think we must risk
the other flare.
He gets up and loads the flare with what is clearly the last charge.
This time the effect is dramatic with A RED UMBRELLA OF LIGHT.
Katharine comes up beside him. They wait, hope fading with the flare.
KATHARINE
(blank)
Geoffrey's not in Cairo.
(Almásy looks at her)
He's not actually a buffoon. And
the plane wasn't a wedding
present. It belongs to the British
Government. They want aerial
maps of the whole North Africa.
So I think he's in Ethiopia. In
case you were counting on his
sudden appearance.
ALMÁSY
And the marriage - is that a fiction?
There's a beat. Katharine has a hundred answers.
KATHARINE
No, the marriage isn't a fiction.
The light from the flare fades on them and they stand in the dark.
Suddenly on the far horizon, behind their heads, AN ANSWERING FLARE
fireworks into the sky.
KATHARINE
Thank God. Oh, thank God.
There's excited shouting from the two fit boys. They leap up and run
towards the couple, who meanwhile have realized that the flare has not
come from Madox, but from an approaching CAMEL CARAVAN. Almásy shouts
to the boys for some identification.
KATHARINE
Do they know them?
ALMÁSY
(squinting at the horizon)
No, but I think I do.
The Caravan slowly comes into focus. IT'S FENELON-BARNES. Katharine
touches Almásy's arm - an almost imperceptible gesture.
KATHARINE
Am I K. in your book?
I think I must be.
Almásy turns to her. He runs the blade of his arm across her neck -
the sweat leaving a clear stripe.
Fenelon-Barnes approaches, dismounts from his camel, and addresses
Almásy.
FENELON-BARNES
I recollect your saying to ignore
your bones but I assume you have
no objection to my rescuing your
companion?
(to Katharine)
Good evening, Mrs. Clifton.
KATHARINE
(accepting his handshake)
Hello.
FENELON-BARNES
I'd like to introduce you to my camel -
the most notable beast on earth.
(to Almásy)
I understand you found some
remarkable caves.
A goatskin bag of water is offered to Katharine. She drinks and hands
it to Almásy.
FENELON-BARNES
Paintings of swimmers? Remarkable.
92 EXT. CAIRO. DAY.
ANOTHER WORLD as a honking TAXI containing Almásy and Katharine
negotiates the incredible bustle of Cairo.
93 EXT. SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL. DAY.
Almásy, still in the same clothes, and evidently weary, emerges from
the cab, and pulls Katharine's belongings from the trunk, then holds
open the door for her. As she walks towards the hotel, he hands her
bag to a porter. Katharine is stung.
KATHARINE
Will you not come in?
ALMÁSY
No.
KATHARINE
Will you please come in?
ALMÁSY
(a beat)
Mrs. Clifton -
Katharine turns, disgusted.
KATHARINE
Don't.
ALMÁSY
I believe you still have my book.
Katharine fishes the book from her knapsack, shoves it at him, then
disappears.
94 INT. ALMÁSY'S ROOM. DAY.
Almásy lying on a camp bed, face down. The walls are covered with
maps, enlargements of photographs. A fan whirs over his kit which is
spread, unraveled but ordered, on the stone floor. An ineffably male
room, the shutters closed, just the thinnest shaft of light piercing
the gloom. Almásy hasn't even removed his clothes, his boots kicked
off below his jutting feet.
There's A KNOCK at the door. Almásy sleeps. Another. A third. He's
roused from the dead. Stumbles to his feet, opens the door as the
knocking continues.
It's Katharine. She's bathed, luminous, stands back-lit by the
afternoon sun - an angel in a cotton dress. She walks past him into
the room. He closes the door. She turns. He KNEELS before her, head
at her thighs. She's crying, her face expressionless as her hands go
to his head.
KATHARINE
You still have sand in your hair.
She starts to BEAT on his head and shoulders, violently. He pulls
back, to look at her, the tears streaming down her face. She kneels
and covers his face with kisses. He pulls blindly at her dress and it
RIPS across her breasts.
95*. INT. BATHROOM. DAY.
Almásy is in the bath. Katharine, wearing his dressing gown, pours in
a jug of steaming water. Almásy leans over the rim of the bath. He's
sewing, carefully repairing the torn dress.
KATHARINE
I'm impressed you can sew.
ALMÁSY
Good.
KATHARINE
You sew very badly.
ALMÁSY
You don't sew at all!
KATHARINE
A woman should never learn to sew,
and if she can she should never
admit to it. Close your eyes.
ALMÁSY
(laughs)
That makes it harder still.
She pushes the sewing from his hands, then pours water over his head,
then begins to shampoo his hair.
Almásy is in heaven. The biggest smile we have seen from him. She
continues to massage his scalp.
ALMÁSY
When were you most happy?
KATHARINE
Now.
ALMÁSY
When were you least happy?
KATHARINE
(a beat)
Now.
ALMÁSY
Okay. And what do you love?
Say everything.
KATHARINE
What do I love? I love rice pudding,
and water, the fish in it, hedgehogs!
The gardens at our house in Freshwater -
all my secret paths.
She rinses his scalp, then slips off the robe and CLIMBS IN BESIDE HIM,
covering his neck and shoulders in kisses.
ALMÁSY
What else?
KATHARINE
Marmite - addicted! Baths - not
with other people! Islands. Your
handwriting. I could go on all day.
(a beat)
My husband.
Almásy nods.
ALMÁSY
What do you hate most?
KATHARINE
A lie. What do you hate most?
ALMÁSY
Ownership. Being owned. When
you leave, you should forget me.
She freezes, pulls herself away, out of the bath, looks at him, then
SLAPS HIM VERY HARD across the face.
She picks up her dress, the thread and needle dangling from it, and
walks, dripping, out of the room.
96*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. NIGHT.
To the Patient it's as if Katharine is walking out of his wall. He
sighs with pain, then looks away to where Hana has fallen asleep on the
bed, almost on top of him. He touches her. He speaks as if each word
burns him.
THE PATIENT
Could I ask you to move? I'm sorry -
but when you turn, the sheets, I can't
really bear the sheets moving over me.
Sorry.
HANA
(mortified, moving quickly)
Yes, of course, I'm so sorry.
Stupid of me.
Hana gets up, upset to have hurt him.
HANA
I'm so sorry.
97*. INT. THE MONASTERY KITCHEN. NIGHT.
Hana comes to the table, carrying a jug of water and a bowl. She's
still sad. She unbuttons her dress, pulling it off her shoulder,
begins to pour the water to cool herself against the night's pressing
heat.
98*. EXT. EMERGENCY FIELD HOSPITAL. 1944. LATE DAY.
The EMERGENCY FIELD HOSPITAL is a cluster of tents practically ahead of
the Front Line SPORADIC GUN FIRE, LIGHT AND HEAVY, SOUNDS THROUGHOUT.
Mary walks by on her way to the Nurse's tent. It's 1944 and the war in
Italy is still intense.
99 INT. EMERGENCY FIELD HOSPITAL TENT. LATE DAY.
JAN is washing out of her HELMET, and stands naked in her socks. Hana
is using a flannel to wash Jan's back. A couple of other girls like,
exhausted, on their cots. The mud is everywhere. Another nurse is
making tea out of an adapted plasma can on their tiny primus.
MARY comes in and flops down. She's GIVEN BLOOD and is pale and
enervated.
MARY
Okay, Type Os, the vampires wait.
Everybody's giving a pint.
JAN
Ugh! If they were sucking it out
I wouldn't mind. It's the needle
I can't stand.
HANA
(laughing)
You're a nurse - how ca you be
frightened of needles!
100 INT. TRIAGE TENT, EMERGENCY FIELD HOSPITAL. NIGHT.
Hana walks through the main TRIAGE TENT. It's packed with the ruined
bodies of the injured, swaddled in bloody bandages. Hana stops at a
couple of beds, shares a word or two with the patients. She stops at
another bed, leans over its occupant. His bandaged face is bloated and
yellow. He's not breathing. She bends over him, his open eyes fixed
in a glassy stare. No pulse. She snaps the triangular cardboard ID
from his bed to indicate HE'S DIED. Then tenderly closes his eyes.
THEY SUDDENLY SNAP OPEN. HE REARS UP, GRABBING HER.
WOUNDED SOLDIER
Can't wait to have me dead? You bitch!
He slaps her hand away. Slaps at the tubes going into his arm. Hana
is absolutely shocked. But just as suddenly he's sunk back into semi-
consciousness.
Shaken, she sits by him and takes his hand, he pulls it away, she takes
it again. He is in terrible pain. His face creased with anger. Now
his hand is clutching at hers. She tries to soothe him.
HANA
Try t be calm. Ssssshhh. Come on.
Be calm now. Ssshhhh. Be peaceful.
It's okay. It's okay.
HIS FACE STILLS. HIS HAND LOOSENS. Now he has gone. As Hana inspects
him, a shell seems to land close by. THE LIGHTS FLICKER. She ducks,
along with everyone else.
Below the bed, on slatboards, above the mud, are the now dead soldier's
possessions. They include A PAIR OF TENNIS SHOES.
101 INT. TRIAGE TENT, EMERGENCY FIELD HOSPITAL. EVENING.
HANA, WEARING THE TENNIS SHOES, IS GIVING BLOOD. She lies in a cot,
next to JAN. The shelling sounds closer.
OLIVER, the Doctor, is working on the most recent patient, a young
CANADIAN Boy who is critically ill - the tubes hanging above him, of
plasma and of blood. The curtain drawn around him is pulled back, to
reveal the two nurses in the background. The Soldier can just see
them. He's going to die any minute.
CANADIAN SOLDIER
(whispering to Oliver)
Is there anybody here from Picton?
OLIVER
Picton? I don't know.
CANADIAN SOLDIER
I'd like to see somebody from home
before I go.
Hana can only really hear Oliver's end of this conversation, but the
mention of Canada chills her, and she knows, now, not later, that
Stuart is dead.
HANA
(to Oliver)
Why Picton?
OLIVER
He's from there - edge of Lake
Ontario right, Soldier?
The boy nods.
JAN
(innocent)
Where's your Stuart from?
Somewhere near there, isn't it?
HANA
(to Oliver)
As him what company he's with?
Oliver leans over, then turns to Hana.
OLIVER
Third Canadian Fusiliers.
HANA
Does he know a Captain McGann?
The boy hears this, whispers to Oliver.
CANADIAN SOLDIER
He bought it. Yesterday. Shot to bits.
The shells are getting closer.
HANA
What did he say?
OLIVER
(can't look at her)
Doesn't know him.
A SHELL SUDDENLY LANDS ON TOP OF THE SITE, PERHAPS FIFTY YARDS FROM THE
TENT. THE LIGHTS GO OUT. THEN ANOTHER LANDS.
Everybody is on the floor, struggling to get on a helmet.
Hana lies down, the blood still leaving her, her helmet on. Oliver is
next to her in the mud. Her heart is breaking.
HANA
He's gone, hasn't he?
OLIVER
No. He's - no.
HANA
Oh God. Oh God.
The shells pound them, incredibly loud, drowning out her grief, but
each explosion illuminates it for a moment.
102 INT. THE MONASTERY KITCHEN. NIGHT.
Caravaggio comes into the kitchen. Hana is slumped at the table, her
back naked. The jug of water in front of her. She's sobbing, her
shoulders heaving. Caravaggio approaches tentatively.
CARAVAGGIO
Hana?
(he touches her shoulder)
Hana? Are you alright?
HANA
(without raising her head)
Don't touch me if you're going to
try and fuck me.
CARAVAGGIO
(soothing)
I'll have some of your water. It's hot.
She reaches for her blouse, wraps it around herself. Her face is read
with weeping.
CARAVAGGIO
(gently)
You have to protect yourself from
sadness. This is the thing I've learned.
(drinking the water)
You're in love with him, aren't you?
Your patient. Do you think he's a saint
or something? Because of the way he
looks? I don't think he is.
HANA
I'm not in love with him. I'm in love
with ghosts. And so is he. He's in
love with ghosts.
CARAVAGGIO
Who are his ghosts?
HANA
Ask him.
CARAVAGGIO
(he holds up his hands)
What if I told you he did this to me?
HANA
(stung)
What? How could he have? When?
CARAVAGGIO
I'm one of his ghosts and he wouldn't
even know. It's like he slammed a
door in Cairo and it trapped my
fucking hands in Tobruk.
HANA
I don't know what that means.
CARAVAGGIO
(shrugs)
Ask him. Ask your saint who he is.
Ask him who he's killed.
HANA
(furious)
Please don't creep around this house.
103*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
Hana sits reading from the Herodotus. She shows the Patient the page
where a CHRISTMAS CRACKER WRAPPER covered in handwriting has been glued
in.
HANA
Tell me about this, this is in your
handwriting - December 22nd -
Betrayals in war are childlike
compared with our betrayals during
peace. New lovers are nervous and
tender, but smash everything - for
the heart is an organ of fire...
(she looks up)
I love that, I believe that.
(to him)
Who is K?
THE PATIENT
K is for Katharine.
104 EXT. AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE, DECEMBER 1938. DAY.
A CHRISTMAS PARTY FOR THE TROOPS. The incongruous attempts to create a
traditional Christmas in the dusty heat of Cairo.
The Party is in the courtyard of the Moorish Palace which serves as the
private residence of the British Ambassador, SIR RONNIE HAMPTON. Lots
of Wives, including LADY HAMPTON and Katharine help serve tea and cake
to the SOLDIERS who sit at rudimentary tables with paper plates and
paper hats. A man dressed as SANTA CLAUS is giving out presents -
PENGUIN PAPERBACKS, CHOCOLATE. Music blares out from a loudspeaker.
Officers and Civilians walk the parameter. One of these, arriving, is
Almasy. He sits in the shade, catches Katharine's attention.
Katharine brings him over a cup of tea and a plate with Christmas cake
on it.
ALMÁSY
Say you're sick.
KATHARINE
What? No!
ALMÁSY
Say you're feeling faint - the sun.
KATHARINE
(but a frisson)
No.
ALMÁSY
I can't work. I can't sleep.
Lady Hampton calls impatiently.
LADY HAMPTON
Katharine!
KATHARINE
Coming.
(to Almásy)
I can't sleep. I woke up shouting
in the middle of the night. Geoffrey
thinks it's the thing in the desert,
the trauma.
ALMÁSY
I can still taste you.
KATHARINE
(waving at another woman who
pushes a trolley with teapots)
This is empty, just coming!
ALMÁSY
I'm trying to write with your taste
in my mouth.
(as she leaves)
Swoon. I'll catch you.
Almásy sits watching the party. The Santa Claus is dragged outside by
some excited Children. Almásy picks at his cake removing the thick
marzipan icing. He's writing on A CHRISTMAS CRACKER WRAPPER, smoothing
it out - December 22nd. Betrayals in war are childlike compared with
out betrayals du...
Katharine, attending to a raucous table, suddenly sags at the knees,
and SWOONS. People rush to her.
KATHARINE
I'm fine. How silly.
OFFICER'S WIFE
(helping her to her feet)
It's the heat.
LADY HAMPTON
You should sit down, darling.
(to the others)
She's quite all right.
(escorts Katharine away)
Are you pregnant?
KATHARINE
I don't think so.
LADY HAMPTON
(squeezing her arm)
How romantic. With Fiona I fell
over every five minutes. Ronnie
Christened me Lady Downfall.
KATHARINE
I think I might go inside and sit
down for a few minutes.
LADY HAMPTON
I'll come with you.
KATHARINE
No, please. I shall be absolutely fine.
They pass Almásy, who doesn't look up from his book.
105 INT. STORE ROOM. AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE. DAY.
A small STOREROOM inside the Palace - Brooms, Mops, Cleaning Equipment.
Outside, the party is visible as opaque shadows through the beveled
glass of the ornate window. The sound of carols sung by the enlisted
men gives way to a version of SILENT NIGHT played on a solitary
bagpipe. Inside, ALMÁSY AND KATHARINE MAKE LOVE IN THE DARKNESS.
Everything is too fast, desperate, standing up, grabbing, hoisting
clothes.
106 INT. CORRIDORS. AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE. DAY.
A CORRIDOR. Almásy appears and almost immediately collides with the
man dressed as SANTA CLAUS. He moves to one side.
CLIFTON
Have you seen Katharine?
ALMÁSY
(taken aback)
What?
CLIFTON
It's Geoffrey under this.
ALMÁSY
I haven't, no. Sorry.
106a*. INT. SIDE ROOM IN AMBASSADOR'S RESIDENCE. DAY.
Geoffrey continues scouting the warren of tiny rooms that run off the
central courtyard. He finds Katharine sitting in one, smoking,
surrounded by oppressive and elaborate tiling. Clifton wonders briefly
how Almásy had missed Katharine.
CLIFTON
Darling, I just heard. You poor
sausage, are you all right?
KATHARINE
I'm fine. I got hot.
CLIFTON
Lady H said she thought you might be -
KATHARINE
I'm not pregnant. I'm hot. I'm too hot.
CLIFTON
Right.
KATHARINE
Aren't you?
CLIFTON
Sweltering.
(taking off his hat and beard)
Come on, I'll take you home.
KATHARINE
Can't we really go home? I can't breathe.
Aren't you dying for green, anything
green, or rain, wouldn't you die to feel
rain on your face? It's Christmas and
it's all - I don't know - if you asked me
I'd go home tomorrow. If you wanted.
CLIFTON
Sweetheart, you know we can't go
home, there might be a war.
KATHARINE
(poking at his costume)
Geoffrey, you do so love putting
on a disguise.
CLIFTON
I do so love you.
(he kisses her head)
What do you smell of?
KATHARINE
What?
CLIFTON
Marzipan! I think you've got marzipan
in your hair. No wonder you're homesick.
107*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. EVENING.
The Patient lies alone in his room. CLIFTON'S FACE stares back at him
from among the frescoes. Then something distracts him.
THE PATIENT
Are you outside?
A beat and then Caravaggio shuffles in. Like an old boxer.
CARAVAGGIO
I can't hide anymore.
(jerks up his hands)
I breathe like a dog. I lose my
balance. Stealing's got harder.
Caravaggio stares at the Herodotus.
CARAVAGGIO
Why do I feel if I had your book I
would know everything?
THE PATIENT
I don't even know if it is my book.
The Bedouin found it in the plane,
in the wreckage. It's mine now.
I heard your breathing and thought
it might be rain. I'm dying for rain -
of course I'm dying anyway - but I
long to feel rain on my face.
Caravaggio comes close, scrutinizing the face, trying to repair the
features. Exasperated.
CARAVAGGIO
Is it you? If I said Moose... I look
different, fuck, why shouldn't you?
THE PATIENT
(impassive)
Moose.
CARAVAGGIO
(a different tack)
First wedding anniversary - what
do you call it?
THE PATIENT
I don't know. Paper. Is it? Paper?
(sharp, not wanting to think)
I don't remember.
108 INT. MONASTERY LIBRARY. DAY.
Hana stands at the PIANO. It's still lop-sided, propped against the
wall. She tries but can't move it. So she pulls off the dust-sheet
and, with the instrument still on a tilt, begins to play the Aria from
Bach's Goldberg Variations.
109 INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
HANA'S PIANO CONTINUES. Upstairs, Caravaggio chats with the Patient
while working his arms to RAISE A VEIN, a boot-lace tied around it,
preparing an injection for himself, tapping the syringe. During this:
THE PATIENT
I have come to love that little tap of
the fingernail against the syringe. Tap.
110*. INT. MONASTERY LIBRARY. DAY.
Hana plays. GUN SHOTS punctuates the music. She's totally engrossed
and only hears the second or third shot. Her hands falter, she looks
up to see A SIKH SOLDIER RUNNING ACROSS THE FIELD WAVING HIS ARMS, his
REVOLVER held aloft. He approaches the door, his face creased with
anxiety, and raps on the shattered frame. It's KIP.
She gets up and walks past Kip standing at the door, and continues the
seven or eight feet to the right and out into the garden VIA THE HOLE
RIPPED OUT OF THE WALL.
HANA
Excuse me. Yes?
(of the doors)
I don't have the key to that door.
KIP
The Germans were here. The Germans
were all over this area. They left mines
everywhere. Pianos were their favorite
hiding places.
HANA
I see.
(then mischievous)
Then may be you're safe as long as
you only play Bach. He's German.
Kip is looking around the piano. Hana giggles.
KIP
Is something funny?
HANA
No, but, no, not at all. I'm sorry.
You came to the doors, that's all and -
(a little laugh)
#NAME?
worried about mines. That's all.
KIP
I've met you before.
HANA
I don't think so.
Hana bends to see what Kip's looking at under the piano. Wires run
from the wall to the instrument onto which is taped an EXPLOSIVE
CHARGE. If Hana had succeeded in moving the piano she would have
triggered the charge. Kip looks at Hana who conceals her dismay with a
shrug.
110a*. EXT. THE MONASTERY GARDEN. DUSK.
Across from the terrace, HARDY AND KIP ARE PUTTING UP THEIR TENTS.
Caravaggio stands, chatting amiably to them, holding a haversack,
smoking a cigarette.
111*. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DUSK.
Hana looks down from the Patient's room, watching the tents go up.
HANA
He wants us to move out, says there
could be fifty more mines in the building.
He thinks I'm mad because I laughed at
him. He's Indian, he wears a turban.
THE PATIENT
Sikh. If he wears a turban, he's a Sikh.
Kip glances up at the window. Hana, suddenly shy, backs away.
HANA
I'll probably marry him.
THE PATIENT
Really? That's sudden.
HANA
My mother always told me I would
summon my husband by playing the piano.
She goes over to the Patient's bed.
HANA
I liked it better when there were
just the two of us.
THE PATIENT
Why? Is he staying?
HANA
With his Sergeant. A Mr. Hardy.
THE PATIENT
We should charge! Doesn't anyone
have a job to do?
HANA
They have to clear all the local roads
of mines. That's a big job. They won't
stay in the house. They're putting up
their tent in the garden.
THE PATIENT
In that case, I suppose we can't charge.
112*. INT. OFFICE, BRITISH HQ. CAIRO. DAY.
A SMALL OFFICE, shared by two men, and a mountain of filing cabinets
and paper. There are AERIAL MAPS all over the walls. Clifton is on
the telephone, while his colleague, RUPERT DOUGLAS, works at the desk.
CLIFTON
(into the phone)
Darling, it's me, I'm sorry,
something's come up.
(Katharine responds)
Don't sulk - I'll be back tomorrow
evening. I promise.
(Katharine responds)
Okay my precious, I love you.
Rupert makes a face at his friend's sentimentality. Clifton beams.
RUPERT
I didn't know you were going anywhere?
CLIFTON
I'm not. I'm going to surprise her.
It's our anniversary. She's forgotten,
of course. What's the symbol for your
first anniversary? I should get something.
Is it paper?
(he knocks sharply on the wall)
Moose! Moose, you there? First
Anniversary - is it cotton?
CARAVAGGIO
Is what cotton?
CLIFTON
First Wedding Anniversary.
RUPERT
(of Clifton)
He's hopeless!
CLIFTON
Your day will come, my sausage.
CARAVAGGIO
Your first anniversary is Paper.
113 EXT. CAIRO STREET. O/S SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL. DAY.
The approach to the Shepheard's Hotel. Geoffrey Clifton in a TAXI,
champagne between his knees.
The car ahead of them SCREECHES TO A HALT as a WOMAN hurries across the
street. The driver honks his horn angrily. The woman puts up a hand
in apology as she skips across the street to another taxi. IT'S
KATHARINE - she's dressed for a date, carries flowers, an overnight
bag.
Geoffrey, at first excited, is troubled by the accouterments. Then he
sees Katharine skip and his whole being punctures.
Katharine's cab roars off. His own car jerks forward.
CLIFTON
Stop!
CABBIE
Please?
CLIFTON
Stop here.
CABBIE
Yessir.
Geoffrey sits in the cab. Fifty yards short of the hotel. The world
rushes by. He finds a cigarette.
114 INT. ALMÁSY'S ROOMS. LATE DAY.
Katharine is in bed. Almásy has just put A RECORD on. It's the folk
song heard at the beginning of the film. He slips back under the
covers. Their clothes are scattered around the room. He lies over a
happy Katharine. She listens.
KATHARINE
This is - what is this?
ALMÁSY
It's a folk song.
KATHARINE
Arabic?
ALMÁSY
No, no, it's Hungarian. My daijka
sang it to me.
KATHARINE
(as they listen)
It's beautiful. What's it about?
ALMÁSY
(as if interpreting)
It's a long song - Szerelem means
love...and the story - there's a
Hungarian Count, he's a wanderer,
a fool. For years he's on some kind
of quest, who knows what? And then
one day he falls under the spell of a
mysterious English woman - a
harpy - who beats him and hits him
and he becomes her slave. He sews
her clothes, he worships the hem of -
Katharine had thought for a few seconds he was serious, then she
catches on and starts to beat him.
ALMÁSY
(laughing)
Ouch! See - you're always beating me..!
KATHARINE
You bastard, I was believing you!
They embrace, he lies over her, considering her naked back.
ALMÁSY
I claim this shoulder blade - oh no,
wait - I want this!
He turns her over, kisses her throat, then traces the hollow
indentation.
ALMÁSY
This - what's it called? - this place,
I love it - this is mine!
(Katharine doesn't know)
I'm asking the King permission to
call it the Almasy Bosphorous.
KATHARINE
(teasing)
I thought we were against ownership?
(kissing him)
I can stay tonight.
The luxury of this makes them both sad. The duplicity. Almásy rolls
away on to his back.
ALMÁSY
Madox knows, I think. He's tried to
warn me. He keeps talking about
Anna Karenina. I think it's his idea
of a man-to-man chat. Its my idea
of a man-to-man chat.
KATHARINE
This is a different world - is what
I tell myself. A different life.
And here I am a different wife.
ALMÁSY
Yes. A different wife.
115 INT. CAB. CAIRO STREET. O/S SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL. NIGHT.
The CAB DRIVER is asleep. A loud POP! jerks him awake. In the back of
the car Geoffrey has opened the champagne. He lets it overflow, then
takes a swig. He notices the startled driver and puts up an apologetic
arm.
CLIFTON
Sorry.
Two or three CHILDREN knock on the window, begging. Geoffrey knocks
back, violently. They disappear.
CABBIE
Hotel now, sir?
GEOFFREY
No.
And he throws a silencing wad of money onto the seat by the Cabbie.
116 EXT. ALMASY'S HOUSE. OLD CAIRO. DAWN.
Almásy and Katharine wander out of his building and into the early
morning streets, hand in hand.
117 EXT. SPICE MARKET. CAIRO. DAWN.
The MORNING PRAYERS rise out from the city's three Minarets. Almásy
stops at a stall, which is just preparing to open for the day. He
picks up a SILVER THIMBLE, points at it to the merchant who gives him a
price. Without comment, Almásy produces the money and, beaming, hands
the thimble to Katharine.
ALMÁSY
I don't care to bargain.
(she smiles)
It's full of saffron, just in case
you think I'm giving it to you to
encourage your sewing.
KATHARINE
That day, had you followed me
to the market?
ALMÁSY
Of course. You didn't need to slap
my face to make me feel as if you'd
slapped my face.
KATHARINE
(loving him, but frightened)
Shall we be all right?
ALMÁSY
Yes. Yes.
(shrugs)
Absolutely.
118 EXT. CAIRO STREET. DAWN.
Katharine takes leave of Almásy on the street corner away from the
hotel entrance. They don't kiss, there's no demonstration of feeling.
He turns immediately away and disappears.
119 INT. CAB. CAIRO STREET. O/S SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL. DAY.
Geoffrey, unshaven, watches as Katharine crosses the street and heads
towards the hotel. His expression is terrible, trying to smile, his
face collapsed.
120 INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. MORNING.
Cheek to Cheek leaks into the room from a GRAMOPHONE that Caravaggio
stands over proudly. The Patient opens his eyes - is confused,
dislocated - stares blankly at Caravaggio.
CARAVAGGIO
(grinning)
Thought you'd never wake up!
THE PATIENT
What?
Hana comes in, sleepily, frowns at the gramophone.
HANA
Where did you find that?
CARAVAGGIO
I liberated it.
HANA
I think that's called looting.
CARAVAGGIO
(relaxed)
No-one should own music. The real
question is who wrote the song?
THE PATIENT
Irving Berlin.
CARAVAGGIO
For?
THE PATIENT
Top Hat.
CARAVAGGIO
Is there a song you don't know?
HANA
(speaking for him)
No. He sings all the time.
She goes over to the Patient and kisses him gently.
HANA
Good morning.
(of his singing)
Did you know that? You're always singing?
THE PATIENT
I've been told that before.
HANA
Kip's another one.
She goes to the window, looks over to where the tents are pitched, sees
Hardy shaving, Kip IN THE PROCESS OF WASHING HIS HAIR, his turban
HANGING LIKE A RIBBON between two trees to dry. He's perched a bowl on
the sundial and is dipping his long coal-black hair into it. As Hana
watches Kip, Caravaggio changes the record. The Patient identifies it
immediately.
121*. EXT. MONASTERY GARDEN. MORNING.
Hana walks past the tent, and passes Hardy. She's carrying a small
cup, which she's a little furtive about. He's carrying a whole armada
of OIL LIGHTS. He nods upstairs.
HANA
Hello.
HARDY
Hello miss.
HANA
I was going to say - if you want to
eat with us, ever... you and Lieutenant
Singh...
HARDY
Very kind of you, we can always eat in
the town with the others -
HANA
Since Caravaggio turned up - food
seems to appear, so please.
HARDY
I'll ask the Lieutenant. But thank you.
HANA
You saved my life. I haven't forgotten.
(Hardy waves that away)
I thought you were very very tall. You
seemed to big - a Giant - and I felt
like a child who can't keep her balance.
HARDY
(does a little mime)
A toddler
She goes on, and tentatively approaches Kip, who's still working at his
hair. Kip hears her and puts out an inquiring arm, moving towards her
like a blink man through the curtain of hair. He touches her.
HANA
Sorry, is it all right I'm seeing this?
Kip shrugs.
HANA
My hair was long. At some point.
I've forgotten what a nuisance it is
to wash. You know - if you were ever
around - we get water from the pump
at noon.
He continues to wash. She holds up the cup of oil.
HANA
Try this. I found a great jar of it.
Olive oil. In Naples this was so
precious it would have bought you a wife.
KIP
Thank you.
She stands for a second, then walks away. Kip examines the oil, calls
after her.
KIP
For my hair?
HANA
(turning, smiling)
Yes, for your hair.
122 EXT. THE MONASTERY. HANA'S GARDEN. DAY.
HANA IS GARDENING, close to the crucifix, which is now a full-fledged
Scarecrow. Broken bottles, fragments of stained glass and shards from
a mirror are hung from the crossbar, syringes too, all jangling and
tinkling and catching the sunlight.
Kip and Hardy drive off to work on their motorcycles. She watches
them, catching Kip's careless wave to her. She looks briefly at
herself in A PIECE OF MIRROR dangling from the Scarecrow.
123 INT. THE MONASTERY. UPSTAIRS LANDING. DAY.
Hana walks along the landing with a tray. There's a message on several
doors in the corridor from Kip: SAFE, then a couple with the warning:
DANGER. She hears noise from the Patient's room. Listens for a second
before going in.
THE PATIENT (O/S)
Because you're reading it too fast!
THE PATIENT (O/S)
Not at all.
THE PATIENT (O/S)
You have to read Kipling slowly!
Your eye is too impatient - think
about the speed of his pen.
(quoting Kipling to demonstrate)
What is it - He sat comma in defiance
of municipal orders comma astride the
gun Zamzammah on her brick... What is it?
124 INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. DAY.
During this, Hana comes through with the tray, finds Kip perched on the
window, relishing his skirmish with the Patient, who has condensed milk
dribbling down his neck.
KIP
Brick platform opposite the old
Ajaib-Gher -
THE PATIENT
#NAME?
natives called the Lahore Museum.
KIP
It's still there, the cannon, outside the
museum. It was made of metal cups
and bowls taken from every household
in the city as tax, then melted down.
Then later they fired the cannon at my
people - comma - The natives.
THE PATIENT
So what do you really object to - the
writer or what he's writing about?
KIP
What I really object to, Uncle, is
your finishing all my condensed milk.
(snatching up the empty can)
And the message everywhere in your
book - however slowly I read it - that
the best destiny for India is to be ruled
by the British.
THE PATIENT
Hana, we have discovered a shared
please - the boy and I.
HANA
Arguing about books.
THE PATIENT
Condensed milk - one of the truly
great inventions.
KIP
(grinning, leaving)
I'll get another tin.
Hana and the Patient are alone.
HANA
I didn't like that book either. It's
all about men. Too many men.
Just like this house.
THE PATIENT
You like him, don't you? Your
voice changes.
HANA
I don't think it does.
(a beat)
Anyway, he's indifferent to me.
THE PATIENT
I don't think it's indifference.
Kip comes bounding in with a fresh can.
THE PATIENT
Hana was just telling me that you
were indifferent -
HANA
(appalled)
Hey! -
THE PATIENT
#NAME?
KIP
Well, I'm indifferent to cooking, not
Hana's cooking in particular.
(stabbing at the tin with a bayonet)
Have either of you ever tried
condensed milk sandwiches?
125 DELETED.
126. INT. THE PATIENT'S ROOM. MORNING.
Caravaggio and the Patient are singing - an Arab song which they both
know from Cairo days. THUNDER accompanies them. It's pouring.
Suddenly the door is flung open and HANA, KIP and HARDY appear. They
have the stretcher with them.
127*. EXT. THE MONASTERY CLOISTERS. MORNING.
A whoop precedes THE HEADLONG RUSH OF KIP, HARDLY and CARAVAGGIO as
they cart the Patient across the Cloisters like manic stretcher-
bearers. Hana is with them, holding an umbrella over the Patient who
bounces uncomfortably. He is nervous, a little giddy. The rain
buckets down.
THE PATIENT
(no irony)
Careful - careful!
127a*. EXT. THE MONASTERY GARDEN. MORNING.
The storm tour includes a trip around the pond. The Patient pushes
away the umbrella, lets the rain drench him. He grins at Hana.
THE PATIENT
This is wonderful!
KIP
(to Hana)
What's he saying?
HANA
He's saying it's wonderful!
128*. INT. LIBRARY OF THE DEPARTMENT OF EGYPTOLOGY. DAY.
Madox and Almásy are camped in one corner of THE LIBRARY, hunched over
their maps and papers and journals and clashing furiously over the site
of the next part of the expedition.
MADOX
(pushing away his charts)
And I'm telling you there's nothing
there to explore.
ALMÁSY
No, because you can't see from the air!
If you could explore from the air life
would be very simple!
(he yanks up a map)
Look! What is that? Is that a wadi?
That whole spur is a real possibility...
MADOX
Which we've overflown twice.
ALMÁSY
Which we couldn't explore because
of rocks, because of cross-winds,
it's sloppy.
(stabbing another location)
And here - and here - we could be
staring at Zerzura.
Other readers look over at this unseemly skirmish.
MADOX
So - on Thursday you don't trust
Bell's map - Bell was a fool, Bell
couldn't draw a map, but on Friday
he's suddenly infallible?
Almásy is surprised by Madox' anger.
MADOX
And where are the Expedition Maps?
ALMÁSY
In my room.
MADOX
Those maps belong to His Majesty's
Government. They're confidential.
They shouldn't be left lying around
for any Tom, Dick or Mary to have
sight of.
ALMÁSY
What's the matter with you?
MADOX
Don't be so bloody naïve. You know
there's a war breaking out.
(he tosses a slip of paper onto
the map, recites its message)
This arrived this morning. By order
of the British Government - all
International Expeditions to be
aborted by May 1939.
129 INT. CAIRO STREET. DAY.
Almásy and Madox walk down this busy and rather narrow street without
pavements. Both of them somber.
ALMÁSY
Why do they care about our maps?
MADOX
What do we find in the desert? Arrow
heads, spears. In a war, if you own the
desert, you own North Africa.
ALMÁSY
(contemptuous)
Own the desert.
Almásy hesitates at a junction, clearly about to take leave of Madox.
ALMÁSY
That place at the base of a woman's
throat? You know - the hollow - here -
does that have an official name?
Madox looks at him.
MADOX
For God's sake, man - pull
yourself together.
130 INT. OPEN-AIR CINEMA. CAIRO. EVENING.
The OPEN-AIR CINEMA is just beginning its evening programme.
PATHE NEWS BEGINS and we date the event to April 1939. Stories of
imminent war jostle with images of Merrie England. Village greens,
sporting victories, Cruft's Dog Show. Alone among the necking couples
- mostly soldiers with their Egyptian girlfriends - in an otherwise
empty block, is Katharine. She's waiting for Almásy. A SOLDIER comes
over to Katharine's row and settles a couple of seats away from her.
SOLDIER
Beggin your pardon, miss, but have
you got a lighter?
Katharine lights his cigarette and returns to the screen. An item
about Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers and TOP HAT. The stars do their
stuff. The soldier moves a seat nearer.
SOLDIER
(leering)
I love Ginger, she's a foxy girl, ain't she?
KATHARINE
Fuck off.
SOLDIER
What?
KATHARINE
You heard me.
The Soldier slinks off, muttering. Katharine is wretched. She sits
head down, not watching the screen, marooned in her despair about
duplicity, sordid assignations.
Almásy arrives, slides in beside Katharine, his shadow momentarily
large acro | 
