Scene 16 – 23

16.   INT. ROBERT’S OFFICE.   DAY.
ROBERT IS SEATED AT HIS DESK. EMILY POPS HER HEAD ROUND THE DOOR.
EMILY:
The presentation Mr Street.
ROBERT:
(CHECKS HIS WATCH). Is it that time already? (EMBARRASSED) I wonder what’s happened to Dawn?  She hasn’t arrived has she?
EMILY:
Not that I know of.
ROBERT:
No, she’d have come straight up to the office. (AT A LOSS) She definitely knows it’s at four thirty. She must have got held up somehow.
CUT TO
17.   CAR INTERIOR.   DAY.
DAWN AND ERIC ARE HAVING TORRID SEX, DAWN STRADDLING HIM, ERIC HOLDING HER UP.
CUT TO
18   INT.   EMILY’S BEDROOM.   DAY.
 

EMILY, DRESSED TO GO OUT, STANDING AT A DRESSING TABLE, IS. THERE IS A SUDDEN LOUD BANGING ON THE FRONT DOOR. SHE GOES TO THE WINDOW, PULLS ASIDE THE NET CURTAIN.
EMILY’S P.O.V.
STANDING AT THE DOOR IS A VERY AGITATED-LOOKING MOLLY, DRESSED IN HER MATRON OF HONOUR OUTFIT.
CUT TO
19.   EXT.   EMILY’S HOUSE.   DAY.
 

THE HOUSE IS IN THE MIDDLE OF A TWO UP TWO DOWN TERRACE. EMILY OPENS THE SASH WINDOW. THE NOISE MAKES MOLLY LOOK UP.
EMILY:
(SURPRISED) Molly?
MOLLY;
Emily. Thank God. We’re in big trouble. It’s Myra, the wedding.
EMILY:
Whatever is it?
CUT TO
20.   EXT.   EMILY’S HOUSE.   DAY.
MOLLY IS WAITING FITFULLY. THE FRONT DOOR OPENS AND EMILY EMERGES.
MOLLY:
I’d do it myself but I thought it would carry more weight coming from you. And Myra.
EMILY:
Just tell everyone not to worry. Especially Myra. I’m sure everything will be all right.
CUT TO
 

 

21.  EXT.   OUTSIDE ROBERT’S HOUSE.   DAY
 

EMILY, HALF RUNNING AND A LITTLE BREATHLESS PULLS UP AT THE FRONT DOOR, SHE RINGS THE BELL, KEEPING HER FINGER ON THE BELL PUSH SO THAT IT RINGS CONTINUALLY. A FEW SECONDS GO BY THEN AN ANNOYED-LOOKING DAWN ANSWERS THE DOOR.
DAWN:
All right, all right, where’s the fire…? (SHE RECOGNISES EMILY AND PULLS A FACE). Oh it’s you.
EMILY:
Could I see Mr Street, please?
DAWN:
(PROTESTS) On a Saturday? It’s Saturday.
EMILY:
I know, but it’s an emergency. Please, I wouldn’t be asking only….
DAWN:
(GRUDGINGLY)  Oh all right, you’d better come in I suppose. But it had better be serious.
CUT TO
 

22   INT.   ROBERT’S SITTING ROOM.   DAY
 

ROBERT IS SEATED IN AN EASY CHAIR. HE GETS UP WHEN DAWN ENTERS THE ROOM FOLLOWED BY EMILY.
ROBERT:
Emily? Is there something wrong?
EMILY:
I’m sorry to bother you Mr Street but it’s Myra Fielding. She’s been let down by the taxi firm she hired for the wedding, they double booked and she’s got nothing to get to the wedding in. And I was thinking….well it’s a big favour to ask but would it be possible for your chauffeur to drive her to the church in your new car?
BEFORE ROBERT CAN FRAME AN ANSWER DAWN LEAPS IN.
DAWN:
What? I’ve only been in it once myself! Can you believe this Robert? Well I give her ten out of ten for cheek.
ROBERT:
Hold on a minute Dawn, Myra has been a loyal servant to me and it’s the biggest day in her life.
EMILY:
So it’s all right then? He can do it?
ROBERT:
Well it isn’t as easy as that. Eric doesn’t usually work Saturdays and he might not be available. I’ll have to get in touch with him and…..(COMES TO A DECISION)….no. I’ll drive.
EMILY:
You Mr Street? Oh, thanks ever so much
DAWN:
(CUTTING IN OVER EMILY) You, Robert? You drive?
ROBERT:
Well I don’t see why not. I won’t be as smart-looking as Eric but…
EMILY:
Myra will be ever so grateful Mr Street.
ROBERT:
I’ll just get my jacket.
DURING THE DIALOGUE BETWEEN ROBERT AND EMILY DAWN HAS BEEN SCHEMING
DAWN:
And what if I want to go out?
ROBERT:
Sorry?
DAWN:
What if I want to go out?
ROBERT:
Do you?
DAWN:
Yes. I want you to take me into Manchester, to Kendals to look at bedroom furniture.
ROBERT:
You never said.
DAWN:
I was going to.
ROBERT:
(GRIMACES) You see if you could drive, if you’d learned to drive like I suggested, you could have taken the Morris, then we wouldn’t have this problem.
DAWN:
I don’t want to drive, Robert. I want to be driven. I understood that was why we had a chauffeur. And there isn’t a problem.
ROBERT:
Not a problem? Myra hasn’t got a car to get her to church for her wedding, Dawn.
DAWN:
Well it isn’t my fault somebody’s let her down.
ROBERT QUICKLY THINKS IT THROUGH.
ROBERT:
What time’s the wedding, Emily?
EMILY:
Eleven-o-clock. St George’s Church.
ROBERT:
(TO DAWN) I’d be back by twelve, comfortably.
DAWN:
It would be too late then, there wouldn’t be time, I’m playing tennis with Debbie at two.
ROBERT SPREADS HIS HANDS, AT A LOSS. DAWN LETS HIM SWEAT FOR A MOMENT OR TWO THEN –
DAWN:
(HELPFULLY)There might be a way out.
ROBERT:
Yes?
DAWN:
Well if I could have the car on Monday afternoon I could go to Kendals then.
ROBERT:
Yes. Have it.
EMILY:
Eric is driving you to Nottingham on Monday to see about the Mears Hotel Group contract.
ROBERT:
Cancel it. (GRABS EMILY BY THE ARM) Come on then Emily, we don’t want to keep the vicar waiting do we.
THEY RUSH FROM THE ROOM. DAWN WATCHES THEM GO.  THEN TREATS HERSELF TO A SELF-SATISFIED SMIRK.
CUT TO
23.   EXT.   SUBURBAN STREET.   DAY.
THE ZODIAC IS TRAVELLING ALONG, ROBERT AT THE WHEEL, EMILY IN THE PASSENGER SEAT.
CUT TO
 

Published by

Razzamatazz

Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.) This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000…. My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas. A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road. I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things. Hi. I’m Terry Ravenscroft, I’m aged 67 and…..whoooah, come back, I’m not ready to have the lid nailed down on my coffin just yet. Anyway I’m a very young 67. (About five years ago I went to see Pulp at the Manchester Evening News Arena. I was older than everyone else by at least 35 years. The eighteen-year-old next to me asked me if I’d ever been to the venue before. I replied ‘Yes I saw George Formby here once’. She’d never heard of him.) This blog is going to be about my life and the way I see things. Before I retired I was a comedy scriptwriter for Les Dawson and Smith and Jones amongst others so there’s a sporting chance that some of the things I write will be funny. One of the reasons I’m writing this blog, although by no means the only reason, is because I have a website www.topcomedy.co.uk which I hope you will log on to occasionally. I have yet to meet anybody who doesn’t like Dear Air 2000…. My hobbies are walking, playing crown green bowls, watching football, birdwatching , cooking, and, according to The Trouble, moaning. Oh, and I have a thing about Kristen Scott Thomas. A couple of people I will be mentioning from time to time are The Trouble and Atkins Down The Road. The Trouble is my wife. I don’t call her The Trouble because it’s cockney rhyming slang for ‘wife, trouble and strife’, but because she has the habit of starting sentences, especially to me, with the words ‘The trouble with you is….’ Then goes on to complete the rest of the sentence with words like ‘you never listen when I’m talking to you’ or ‘you never see the other person’s point of view’ or some such other frivolous complaint. Atkins Down The Road is my best friend and lives, not surprisingly, down the road. I started a weblog a couple of years ago but stopped doing it to write a novel about golf called ‘A Good Walk Spoiled.’ If you want to read the weblog it can be found on my website, if you want to read the novel it can be found on my other website, Razzamatazz, at www.razza.fsnet.co.uk along with lots of other things.