SYLVIE AND STEVEN'S FLAT - SATURDAY MORNING
SYLVIE has a Robbie Williams CD playing, and she's talking into her cell phone hands-free which is hanging out of her ear. She has a towel wound on top of her hair, a very thick, white face mask on, and she's painting her right toe nails and has cotton wool separating each toe. There's a knock at the door. At first SYLVIE doesn't notice. SYLVIE: (on phone) Yeah, well, it was my decision to break up with him ... yes, but when he said "Ah, Sylvie, this isn't working, never can work, we have nothing in common, I don't like your friends and I don't find you attractive", I replied, quite firmly, "Well, Mark, then I guess it's over". So, like, officially, I was the one who did the dumping. There's another knock at the door which she sort of hears. SYLVIE: ... so anyway, how about we have a girls' only day? We can start with ... ANDREW: (O/S) Steven! Steve? Are you there? SYLVIE: Hang on, Carrie, there's someone at my door hollering for my flatmate ... (yells out) He's not here. (back to phone) Anyway, first we can rent some Johnny Depp DVD's, buy some chocolate ... ANDREW:(O/S) I can hear you in there, Stevie. But your choice of music has certainly changed, dude ... SYLVIE: (calling out) He's not - ANDREW: Robbie Williams! I mean - paleese. Whoever she is, it MUST be lurve. Cos she's brainwashed you my man! Sylvie takes great offence at this assault on her beloved Robbie Williams. SYLVIE: (into phone) Hang on a sec, Carrie. This will only take a second. Sylvie gets up and hops / shuffles to the door protecting her toes: SYLVIE: OK, pal ... firstly, Robbie Williams sings from the heart to the loneliness and heartache - not to mention the manic depressive - in all of us. Secondly, Steven IS in love, and is as we speak, meeting the parents of his intended. Thirdly - She opens the door. Beat Andrew is gorgeous ... even with a black eye, on crutches, with one leg off the ground and his foot and head bandaged - in fact they're sort of tragic mirror images of each other. ANDREW: Yes? SYLVIE: Yes ... what? ANDREW: Thirdly. SYLVIE: Huh? Oh .. Thirdly. Right ... well, thirdly ... quite frankly, is none of your business. ANDREW: But it was obviously going to be my business only (looks at arm where his watch should be) two hairs and a freckle ago. Sylvie smiles. SYLVIE: My dad used to use that expression. ANDREW: Mine too. In fact he still does. Your father has given up telling time via the reliable follicle and melanin combination? SYLVIE: Yes, he has moved on. ANDREW: How does he tell time now? SYLVIE: Well, time doesn't mean quite as much to Dad nowadays. He died last year. ANDREW: Oh, sorry. SYLVIE: Thanks. As Andrew speaks he waves the crutches around and loses his balance etc. every now and then. Sylvie is also getting a sore left leg from holding her right foot so as to save her precious painted toenails. So she's also a bit unsteady on her feet. END OF FIRST PAGE |