《英国病人》The English Patient (1996)

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, ALM罶Y, 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 Alm醩y/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 Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y have seen many such jugs.



			MADOX

		Excellent.  That's terrific, D'Ag.

				(to Alm醩y, 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 Alm醩y.  

The other members of the team are already there - BERMANN, a German 

PHOTOGRAPHER and FOUAD, EGYPTOLOGIST from Cairo.



			MADOX

				(to Alm醩y, 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.



			ALM罶Y

				(gloomily)

		Which means we're in the wrong place.



Alm醩y speaks with a slight but unmistakable European accent.



			D'AGOSTINO

		Why?



			ALM罶Y

		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!



			ALM罶Y

		A wild goose chase.



			MADOX

				(firmly)

		No.



Alm醩y 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.  

Alm醩y 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.  Alm醩y joins the group.  Madox 

nods over to the Clifton plane.



			MADOX

		Marvelous plane.  Did you look?



			CLIFTON

				(beaming at Alm醩y)

		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.



	Alm醩y 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.



			ALM罶Y

				(stiff)

		Thank you.



			KATHARINE

		I wanted to meet a man who could write

		such a long paper with so few adjectives.



			ALM罶Y

		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?



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

				(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.  Alm醩y 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.



ALM罶Y AND MADOX WALK OUT TO INTERCEPT THE ARRIVALS as the first Arab 

dismounts, the procession of camels splaying out as if in collapse.  

Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y and

approaching Madox)

		Of course, you have your aeroplane.  

		Two now!  Do you still call yourselves

		explorers?  I assume not.



			MADOX

				(stiffly)

		Fenelon-Barnes.



			ALM罶Y

		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 Alm醩y)

		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?



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		I think you know I am.



			FENELON-BARNES

				(ignoring Alm醩y)

		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.



			ALM罶Y

				(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.



Alm醩y, 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 Alm醩y, who has arrived)

		I might need a prompt.  Do you have your

		Herodotus?  I've noticed you carry it...



			ALM罶Y

		I'm sorry - what have you noticed?



			MADOX

		Your book.  Your Herodotus!



Alm醩y 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 -



			ALM罶Y

				(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.



Alm醩y 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?



Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y 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.  Alm醩y 

stiffens, turns to investigate.  There's A LUMP in the cot.  A dog?  

Alm醩y 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.  Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y is telling him.



			MADOX

		What did you think you were

		doing in his tent?



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		Her hands and feet were tied.



			MADOX

		What did you do?



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		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 Alm醩y.



			ALM罶Y

		How much did you pay?



			KATHARINE

				(delighted)

		Hello!  Good morning.



			ALM罶Y

		They don't see foreign women in this

		market.  How much did you pay?



			KATHARINE

		Seven pounds, eight, I suppose.  Why?



			ALM罶Y

		Which stall?



			KATHARINE

		Excuse me?



			ALM罶Y

		You've been cheated, don't worry,

		we'll take it back.



			KATHARINE

				(bristling)

		I don't want to go back.



			ALM罶Y

		This is not worth eight pounds,

		Mrs. Clifton.



			KATHARINE

		I don't care to bargain.



			ALM罶Y

		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?



			ALM罶Y

				(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 - Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y.



			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 Alm醩y

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 Alm醩y)

		And future ones.





53	INT.    SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL.    NIGHT.



THE BALLROOM.  A dance finishes.  Alm醩y 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?



			ALM罶Y

		Excuse me?



			KATHARINE

		After the market, you followed me

		to the hotel.



			ALM罶Y

		I was concerned.  As I said, women in

		that part of Cairo, a European women,

		I felt obliged to.



			KATHARINE

		You felt obliged to.



			ALM罶Y

		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 Alm醩y 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.



Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y.



			KATHARINE

				(diffident)

		Hello.  Not to interrupt but

		we're celebrating.



She makes to leave but Alm醩y puts up a hand to keep Katharine there, 

but quiet.



			ALM罶Y

		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?



			ALM罶Y

		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?



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		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.  Alm醩y 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?



			ALM罶Y

		He said - be careful.



			KATHARINE

		Be careful?  You mean you - or me?  Who?



			ALM罶Y

				(to the Arab)

		Her or me?



The Arab speaks again.  Almasy speaks without looking at her.



			ALM罶Y

		The one who appears not to be moving.





64*.	INT.    TENT.   BASECAMP AT POTTERY HILL.   NIGHT.



Katharine comes in.  Then, a beat, and Alm醩y.  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 Alm醩y)

		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 Alm醩y)

		Why not?



			ALM罶Y

		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, Alm醩y approaches.



			ALM罶Y

		Safe journey.



			CLIFTON

		You too.  Good luck!



			ALM罶Y

		Clifton - your wife - do you think

		it's appropriate to leave her?



			CLIFTON

		Appropriate?



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		Very well.



			CLIFTON

				(laughing it off)

		Why are you people so threatened 

		by a woman?!



He settles into the controls.  Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y/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 - Alm醩y 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?



Alm醩y doesn't answer.  Katharine, who has looked at him for an answer, 

looks away.  There's another long silence.



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		Pardon?



			KATHARINE

		You sing.  All the time.



			ALM罶Y

		I do not.



			KATHARINE

		Ask Al Auf.



Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y.  

Alm醩y 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.  Alm醩y 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, Alm醩y 

looks over at the range of rocks.  One particular range seems to look 

exactly like A WOMAN'S BACK.  He squints at the rock.  Alm醩y 

discreetly pulls out his COMPASS.





69*.	EXT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    DUSK.



Alm醩y 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.  Alm醩y 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.  

Alm醩y 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 

Alm醩y comes scrambling down, transformed into an excited teenager.



			ALM罶Y

		Madox!  Madox!



He slithers in a heap in front of the astonished expedition party.  

Doesn't care.





72	INT.    CAVE OF SWIMMERS.    FLASHLIGHT.



Alm醩y has led the whole party into the heart of the cave.  Now Madox 

comes alongside him at the wall, his flashlight joining Alm醩y'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, Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y 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.  Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y.  

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.

				(Alm醩y nods)

		How do you explain?  To someone who's

		never been here?  Feelings which seem

		quite normal.



			ALM罶Y

				(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.  Alm醩y is working at the crumpled end of the vehicle.  He's 

having no success.





78*.	EXT.    THE DESERT.    DAY.



Alm醩y, 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, Alm醩y 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.



			ALM罶Y

		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 Alm醩y, 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.  Alm醩y 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.



Alm醩y 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.



			ALM罶Y

		What's this?



			KATHARINE

		I thought you might paste them

		into your book.



			ALM罶Y

		We took several photographs,

		there's no need.



			KATHARINE

		I'd like you to have them.



			ALM罶Y

				(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.  Alm醩y emerges from the tent and, locating Katharine, 

heads towards her.



			ALM罶Y

		You should come into the shelter.



			KATHARINE

		I'm quite all right, thank you.



			ALM罶Y

		Look over there.



Katharine turns, scans the horizon.



			KATHARINE

		What am I looking at?



			ALM罶Y

		See what's happening to them -

		the stars.



			KATHARINE

		They're so untidy.  I'm just trying 

		to rearrange them.



			ALM罶Y

		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.  Alm醩y pushes everyone under cover.





82	INT.    SHELTER.    NIGHT.



THE SAND SEEMS TO BE SCOURING THE TARPAULIN.  Kamal and Alm醩y try to 

secure one vulnerable area, but suddenly there are leaks everywhere and 

the sand swarms inside.



It's noisy, too, and Alm醩y 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 

Alm醩y to the upright one.





84	INT.    CAR.    NIGHT.



Inside the cabin, the sand swirling around them, Katharine and Alm醩y 

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?



			ALM罶Y

		No.



			KATHARINE

		Shall we be all right?



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y (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.



			ALM罶Y

		#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.



			ALM罶Y

		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.



Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y emerges from the car, the sand pouring into the 

cabin, MADOX'S CAR IS ROARING ALONG THE HORIZON.  Alm醩y 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?



Alm醩y is preoccupied.  He's gone back to their vehicle and returns 

with a shovel, STARTS TO DIG FRANTICALLY.



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

				(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?



			ALM罶Y

				(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.  Alm醩y 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.  Alm醩y 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 ALM罶Y'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.  Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y.  Kamal is wrapped in a blanket and shivering.  

Alm醩y gives him water, speaks to Katherine.



			ALM罶Y

		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.

				(Alm醩y 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.



			ALM罶Y

		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.  Alm醩y shouts 

to the boys for some identification.



			KATHARINE

		Do they know them?



			ALM罶Y

				(squinting at the horizon)

		No, but I think I do.



The Caravan slowly comes into focus.  IT'S FENELON-BARNES.  Katharine 

touches Alm醩y's arm - an almost imperceptible gesture.



			KATHARINE

		Am I K. in your book?  

		I think I must be.



Alm醩y 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 

Alm醩y.



			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 Alm醩y)

		I understand you found some

		remarkable caves.



A goatskin bag of water is offered to Katharine.  She drinks and hands 

it to Alm醩y.



			FENELON-BARNES

		Paintings of swimmers?  Remarkable.





92	EXT.    CAIRO.    DAY.



ANOTHER WORLD as a honking TAXI containing Alm醩y and Katharine 

negotiates the incredible bustle of Cairo.





93	EXT.    SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL.    DAY.



Alm醩y, 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?



			ALM罶Y

		No.



			KATHARINE

		Will you please come in?



			ALM罶Y

				(a beat)

		Mrs. Clifton -



	Katharine turns, disgusted.



			KATHARINE

		Don't.  



			ALM罶Y

		I believe you still have my book.



Katharine fishes the book from her knapsack, shoves it at him, then 

disappears.





94	INT.    ALM罶Y'S ROOM.    DAY.



Alm醩y 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.  Alm醩y hasn't even removed his clothes, his boots kicked 

off below his jutting feet.  



There's A KNOCK at the door.  Alm醩y 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.



Alm醩y is in the bath.  Katharine, wearing his dressing gown, pours in 

a jug of steaming water.  Alm醩y leans over the rim of the bath.  He's 

sewing, carefully repairing the torn dress.



			KATHARINE

		I'm impressed you can sew.



			ALM罶Y

		Good.



			KATHARINE

		You sew very badly.



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

				(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.



Alm醩y is in heaven.  The biggest smile we have seen from him.  She 

continues to massage his scalp.



			ALM罶Y

		When were you most happy?



			KATHARINE

		Now.



			ALM罶Y

		When were you least happy?



			KATHARINE

				(a beat)

		Now.



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		What else?



			KATHARINE

		Marmite - addicted!  Baths - not

		with other people!  Islands.  Your

		handwriting.  I could go on all day.

				(a beat)

		My husband.



	Alm醩y nods.



			ALM罶Y

		What do you hate most?



			KATHARINE

		A lie.  What do you hate most?



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		Say you're sick.



			KATHARINE

		What?  No!



			ALM罶Y

		Say you're feeling faint - the sun.



			KATHARINE

				(but a frisson)

		No.



			ALM罶Y

		I can't work.  I can't sleep.



Lady Hampton calls impatiently.



			LADY HAMPTON

		Katharine!



			KATHARINE

		Coming.

				(to Alm醩y)

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		I can still taste you.



			KATHARINE

				(waving at another woman who

pushes a trolley with teapots)

		This is empty, just coming!



			ALM罶Y

		I'm trying to write with your taste

		in my mouth.

				(as she leaves)

		Swoon.  I'll catch you.



Alm醩y sits watching the party.  The Santa Claus is dragged outside by 

some excited Children.  Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y, 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, ALM罶Y 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.  Alm醩y appears and almost immediately collides with the 

man dressed as SANTA CLAUS.  He moves to one side.  



			CLIFTON

		Have you seen Katharine?



			ALM罶Y

				(taken aback)

		What?



			CLIFTON

		It's Geoffrey under this.



			ALM罶Y

		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 Alm醩y 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.    ALM罶Y'S ROOMS.    LATE DAY.



Katharine is in bed.  Alm醩y 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?



			ALM罶Y

		It's a folk song.



			KATHARINE

		Arabic?



			ALM罶Y

		No, no, it's Hungarian.  My daijka

		sang it to me.



			KATHARINE

				(as they listen)

		It's beautiful.  What's it about?



			ALM罶Y

				(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.



			ALM罶Y

				(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.



			ALM罶Y

		I claim this shoulder blade - oh no,

		wait - I want this!



He turns her over, kisses her throat, then traces the hollow 

indentation.



			ALM罶Y

		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.  Alm醩y rolls 

away on to his back.



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		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.



Alm醩y 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.  Alm醩y 

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, Alm醩y produces the money and, beaming, hands 

the thimble to Katharine.



			ALM罶Y

		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?



			ALM罶Y

		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?



			ALM罶Y

		Yes.  Yes.

				(shrugs)

		Absolutely.





118	EXT.    CAIRO STREET.    DAWN.



Katharine takes leave of Alm醩y 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 Alm醩y 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.



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		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?



Alm醩y is surprised by Madox' anger.



			MADOX

		And where are the Expedition Maps?



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

		What's the matter with you?



			MADOX

		Don't be so bloody na飗e.  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.



Alm醩y and Madox walk down this busy and rather narrow street without 

pavements.  Both of them somber.



			ALM罶Y

		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.



			ALM罶Y

				(contemptuous)

		Own the desert.



Alm醩y hesitates at a junction, clearly about to take leave of Madox.



			ALM罶Y

		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 Alm醩y.  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.



Alm醩y arrives, slides in beside Katharine, his shadow momentarily 

large across the screen.



			ALM罶Y

		Sorry.



They watch the screen.  Katharine is weeping.  Alm醩y doesn't 

understand.  He puts his arm around her.



			KATHARINE

		I can't do this, I can't do this any more.





131*.	EXT.    GROPPI PARK.    CAIRO.    EVENING.



A man walks round with A HAND BELL - announcing that the Park is 

closing.  He turns off the gaslights which illuminate the animal cages.  

Alm醩y and Katharine sit stiffly on a bench.  They don't speak.  Alm醩y 

puts his hands to his head, he rubs his shoulders.  The lights are 

gradually being extinguished around them.



	Finally, Katharine gets up.



			KATHARINE

		I'd better get back.

				(she keep