by Louise Welsh
Manley adjusts the desk-lamp and begins to examine the contents. Dr Grosvenor leans back and smiles.
DR GROSVENOR: Would I be correct in supposing, Mr Kingston, that tonight’s adventure, if successful, would even by your standards constitute something of a remarkable feat? A – shall we say – crowning achievement?
MANLEY: [Absorbed with the attaché case.] Indeed, indeed.
Dr Grosvenor watches Manley for a few beats, smiling.
DR GROSVENOR: Your career has interested me for some time, Mr Kingston.
Pause. Manley remains absorbed and does not respond.
DR GROSVENOR: I’ve come to love and enjoy dishes which the average European would feel nauseous just to look at. But let me say, Mr Kingston, I have no hesitation in admitting I have not come anywhere near your level of er – enterprise.
MANLEY: [Not listening; still absorbed.] Mmmm.
Dr Grosvenor goes on watching Manley, smiling silently, for another beat or two.
DR GROSVENOR: You know, Mr Kingston, I have little time for those who attempt to denigrate your name…
Close up: attaché case. As Dr Grosvenor continues, we watch Manley’s hands sorting through the contents.
Manley’s hands move to the metal box. Inside, the box is antiseptically packed with test-tubes, packets and containers. Meanwhile, Dr Grosvenor is enjoying his own lecture.
DR GROSVENOR: [Continuing.] You see, I’ve always found something noble about your career. Noble in the most fundamental sense. In the primitive world, man was obliged to go out into an unknown wilderness and discover food. He was unbound then by prejudices about what did and did not comprise the edible. He tried anything he could get his hands on. You, Mr Kingston, are one of the few in modern times worthy of our great pioneers in taste. The rest of us, even someone like myself, we’re akin to the womenfolk who waited in the caves worrying about how to cook what the hunters brought back…
Dr Grosvenor is interrupted by Manley snapping shut the lid of the attaché case.
MANLEY: I am most indebted to you, Dr Grosvenor.
DR GROSVENOR: Not at all. A pleasure.
Manley gets to his feet, holding the case. He moves towards the door.
MANLEY: I’ll be on my way.
Dr Grosvenor rises to show Manley out.
DR GROSVENOR: You’re extremely welcome, Mr Kingston, to remain a while and sample Señor Perez’s new offerings. He’ll be presenting his dishes in twenty minutes.
MANLEY: [With haughty disdain.] So kind, no thank you.
DR GROSVENOR: You’re familiar with Señor Perez’s work?
MANLEY: [Shaking his head; he has long been above such things.] Mmmm.
DR GROSVENOR: A very interesting talent. Personally, I find his preparations suffer from certain unnecessarily romantic effects. But really, overall, a very interesting talent. In his native Central America, he’s regarded as something of a revolutionary. You’re sure you won’t stay? [But he laughs before Manley has time to respond.] But of course, you have other plans.
MANLEY: Quite.
19. CAR. DAY.
Carter is in the front seat of the stationary Rolls, eating a take-away hamburger. He chews slowly and deliberately, as though he is chewing over some deep plot. He glances outside, and something makes him stop chewing. Then he puts away his unfinished burger, carefully re-packing it in its napkins and cardboard.
20. DR GROSVENOR’S HOUSE. DAY.
The Rolls has remained where we last saw it.
What Carter has seen is Manley emerging from the house and coming towards the car, attaché case in hand. Carter gets out of the car and opens the back door for Manley. Manley gets in. Rolls drives off.
21. BEDROOM. DAY.
Manley is sitting on the edge of a double bed, dressed in a safari jacket. What resembles items of kitchenware dangle from his belt. He is examining something on the bed, which means his back is turned to his wife, Winnie, kneeling on the carpet by the bed. She is fastening a small saucepan to Manley’s belt.
Winnie, forty-seven, is a small, stay-at-home woman; not the type to have affairs during her husband’s prolonged absences. Her nervous manner in the ensuing scene arises not from any fear of Manley, but because she is in awe of him. Her bedroom would normally be tidy, comfortable and conservative. But for the moment, spread all over the bed are “tools” which look vaguely surgical, vaguely like more kitchenware; also, an open suitcase from which the “tools” have originated, a small camping stove, a bulky net. On the floor nearby – though we need not see this for the moment – is a large empty duffle bag.
Throughout the ensuing dialogue, Manley remains preoccupied with these items – concerned there is nothing omitted and that all is in working order.
Winnie finishes fastening the saucepan. She now begins to tie a wok on to Manley’s back. Her task is not facilitated by Manley, who – oblivious to Winnie – is constantly moving. This infuriating charade continues throughout the following dialogue. But Winnie, for her part, displays not a hint of impatience.
WINNIE: Was the trip to Iceland useful at all?
MANLEY: Mmm? Oh… I didn’t go. Nothing very interesting up there any more.
WINNIE: What a pity. Mr Knutsen would have been so disappointed.
MANLEY: Knutsen? Oh yes.
Then Manley turns slightly towards Winnie, thus sabotaging her wok-tying.
WINNIE: [An embarrassed smile.] You wrote to me last time you were in Iceland. You told me all about Mr Knutsen. And about his most interesting oven.
MANLEY: [Preoccupied again.] Mmm.
WINNIE: [Fondly.] Two years ago now. 1984.
MANLEY: Mmm.
Manley begins to load the various items into his duffle bag, giving each item a final check before packing it. Meanwhile, Winnie continues her attempts to secure the wok on to Manley’s back.
MANLEY: I suppose… [He turns slightly, again sabotaging the wok-tying.] you’re curious as to where I’m going tonight.
WINNIE: [Laughs.] I know you don’t like me to pry.
MANLEY: [Preoccupied with packing again.] Mmm.
Winnie finally succeeds in securing the wok.
WINNIE: There!
Another angle: Manley stands up and surveys the room to check he has not forgotten anything. He picks up his duffle bag, which is now very full.
MANLEY: [Looking around the room a last time.] Hmm. Should be everything.
Winnie, too, glances concernedly around the room. Manley turns to exit.
22. MANLEY’S MANSION BLOCK.
Carter is waiting, leaning against the Rolls, eating his hamburger in the slow deliberate manner we saw before. As he does so he is looking at the front of the Kingstons’ mansion block.
Point of view: Carter. Move slowly up and across the obviously expensive and ornate archway around the Kingstons’ front door. Resume on Carter: chewing his hamburger slowly as though chewing over the details of the archway. His face, as usual, gives little away.
23. HALL.
Manley begins to put his coat on. This presents difficulties on account of the dangling objects about his person. As he moves to the door Winnie comes into the hall. She moves to follow him and we hear the front door slam off screen. Hold on Winnie, devoid of expression.
24. MANLEY’S MANSION BLOCK.
Manley comes down the front path towards the Rolls, still parked as we last saw it. He is carrying his duffle bag and is still struggling a little with his coat. Carter holds the door open for Manley.
25. A STREET. NORTH OF WEST END.
Rolls Royce moving through the street.
26. CAR.
Carter is at the wheel. Manley is in the back seat, looking out of the side window, deep in thought.
27. ANTE-ROOM IN SOUTH AMERICA. NIGHT.
Close shot: Rossi.
28. CAR. DAY.
On Manley: deep in thought.
MANLEY: You know, Carson, I’ve been working on this project now for nine years.
On Carter.
CARTER: Carter, Sir. [Pause.] Name’s Carter, Sir.
On Manley: still lost in thought, no sign of his having heard Carter. Move in on Manley’s face – car drives into a tunnel.
29. ANTE-ROOM IN SOUTH AMERICA. NIGHT.
Close shot: Rossi.
MANLEY: [Voice over.] Mmm. Three times before, I’ve tried and failed. But this time, I’ve covered every eventuality.
30. CAR.
Close shot: Manley still lost in thought.
MANLEY: Trial and error, Carson. Persevere and it’s bound to come right in the end.
On Carter: who does not react at all.
MANLEY: Nine years…
31. ROOM IN SOUTH AMERICA. NIGHT.
MANLEY: Nine years since I met Rossi.
Background music begins. A room with four men and two beautiful women.
Background music gets louder and continues through the following series of shots. The shots are silent – we hear no sound other than the music.
The door: which is chained and bolted. This is the object of the men’s stares; evidently, someone has knocked. A servant in breeches, about forty, comes into shot. He looks through a peep-hole, says something through the door and waits apprehensively. Then, satisfied, he unchains and unbolts the door, lets in Rossi, and quickly shuts the door again. Rossi is over seventy, a white-haired man in a white suit. He could be a scientist. He surveys the room with a calm, amused expression.
Point of view: Rossi. The room suggests money and decadence – like a back room of a brothel or casino. Five male guests are sitting around the room. Four of these – all aged forty-five or over – are of Latin origin. They look like men accustomed to power, but at the moment, they are smoking as though to relieve nervousness. They look furtively towards the camera. A guilty thrill hovers around them, as though a drug-or sex-orgy is about to take place.
Rossi’s gaze settles on a fifth guest: this is Manley sitting apart, looking bored. Manley is fanning himself with a hat.
An electric fan: in motion on a chest of drawers.
A large joint of meat: being brought in on a platter and placed at a low table at the centre of the guests. The meat is not readily identifiable.
Latin man: looks at the meat like a Catholic boy looking at his first naked woman – shock, fascination, fear, embarrassment.
Faces around the table: display unconvincing attempts to conceal nervousness and excitement. Grins exchanged as though for reassurance. Manley, by contrast, is eating without the least self-consciousness. Again, he looks over to Rossi. Rossi too is an old hand. He wears a similar bored look.
The joint: being carved. Soft, pinkish, bloody.
Faces eating the meat, chewing and tasting with fascinated deliberation. Guilt, pleasure, nervousness.
Manley eats without the least self-consciousness. He looks over to Rossi, who returns a look as though to say: “What a bore.”
32. ANTE-CHAMBER. NIGHT.
Background music fades. Sound of insects and birds fade in.
Manley is looking out of the window, smoking a cigar. He looks sulky. Rossi is standing in the room behind him, also smoking. He has just been trying to make some point to Manley. The door into the next room is ajar, through which can be heard sounds of merry-making – tension-relieving after the eating of the meat. Laughter and shouting continue in the background throughout the ensuing dialogue, but never so loud as to interrupt the speakers.
ROSSI: [With an Italian accent.] You look offended, Mr Kingston. [He smiles reconcilingly.] Please. I didn’t mean to imply you are not a man of great achievements. Of course you are. And I am very sincere, when I ask you to see me as your father-figure. You see, Mr Kingston… [Lowers voice.] I am now old. I have a bad heart. I will not live much longer.
Manley turns to Rossi. He looks vaguely interested, but not at all sympathetic. He says nothing.
ROSSI: No need for sympathies, Mr Kingston. I have no desire to live much longer. I have done everything there is to do. My tongue has tasted everything on this earth. [Pauses. Then with meaning.] Even once, something that was not of this earth.
Rossi smiles conceitedly. Manley’s curiosity has been aroused. He takes the cigar from his mouth and turns to Rossi.
MANLEY: Not of this earth?
ROSSI: You see, Mr Kingston, I am your true father. And you are my true son. I wish you to be the heir to my greatest accomplishment. This is why I tell you this. Yes. I have tasted that which is not of this earth. I have eaten a ghost.
Manley is stunned. He is at once inspired and humiliated. He asks the following question despite himself.
MANLEY: What – er – did it taste like?
ROSSI: [Laughs triumphantly.] I wonder how many in the world have had the privilege of hearing such a question from your lips, Mr Kingston.
Manley is now really put out. He turns to leave.
MANLEY: Quite, quite.
ROSSI: [Becoming suddenly serious.] Mr Kingston, please.
Rossi ushers Manley to come back. Manley hesitates.
ROSSI: Don’t mix with those nonentities. I wish to help you. You are my natural heir.
Manley comes back and stares again out of the window. He puts his cigar in his mouth and avoids looking at Rossi. Rossi too looks out at the view. He draws deeply on his cigar.
ROSSI: The process by which one consumes a ghost is not a simple one. I devoted many years research to the task. I am willing, Mr Kingston, to pass to you – and you only – the fruits of my labour. I ask only in return that you acknowledge me, in the years to come – in your great years – as your mentor. You are interested, are you not, Mr Kingston?
A confident glint is in Rossi’s eye. He has Manley hooked.
ROSSI: Good. Come to my apartment tomorrow and we will discuss this further. [With a smile, Rossi starts to leave. Then turns.] As for your – er – question, the taste is exquisite. [He gestures with his hands.] Like nothing on earth.
33. CENTRAL LONDON. NIGHT.
Rolls Royce in motion. Background music ends.
34. CAR. NIGHT.
On Manley: now very alert, leaning forward to see up ahead.
MANLEY: That’s it there, Carson. Slow down.
35. STREET OUTSIDE CHURCH. NIGHT.
Point of view: Manley from car. A dingy back street. Derelict houses and graffitied walls. Up ahead is the church we first saw in 1904 (scene one). Outside it, along the church wall, is a queue of men.
Reverse angle: Manley through the window of the approaching car. The car has slowed right down. Manley is looking out intently.
Point of view: Manley from car. We are passing the church gate. At its centre is a wooden plaque. This is not the same plaque we saw in scene one – the design and translation are modern.
I was hungry and you gave me food
I was thirsty and you gave me drink
I was a stranger and you welcomed me.
Matthew 25:35
36. CAR. NIGHT.
Manley is looking intently out of his window.
37. STREET OUTSIDE CHURCH. NIGHT.
Point of view: Manley from car. We are now moving along the queue of homeless men – about twenty in number. Some lean against the wall, some crouch, others sit on the pavement.
There are only men here, because the church takes in only men. Otherwise, a mixed crowd – multi-racial, all ages. Only a few of them are “traditional” tramps; most are losing a battle to maintain a conventional “respectable” appearance. A significant number of teenagers. Their faces are bored and weary. They look towards the passing Rolls without surprise and with little interest.
MANLEY: Drive on a little, Carson. Round that corner there.
Close shot: Carter, whose face gives away nothing. Another angle: Rolls moving past queue of men.
38. CUL-DE-SAC. NIGHT.
Dingy ground covered with rubbish. The car comes into shot as it rounds the corner into the cul-de-sac. It halts.
Carter gets out and comes round to open the door for
Manley, but Manley has already opened the door himself before Carter can do so.
Manley struggles out, with his big coat, holding his duffle bag. Indeed, he is not unlike a stereotype tramp.
MANLEY: Be here at five tomorrow morning, will you, Carson?
Manley turns and sets off towards the corner, hoisting his bag on his shoulder. He raises his hand without looking round.
On Carter: his face impassive as ever.
39. STREET OUTSIDE CHURCH. NIGHT.
Manley walks purposefully towards the queue of men.
Another angle on a section of the queue: Manley comes into shot. He walks past the queuing men, completely ignoring them. He goes out of shot, leaving us to favour the men in the queue. The men in shot glance neutrally after Manley. He is of no special interest to them.
A few further angles on men in the queue: there is little conversation; most have arrived singly and do not have the will to strike up new acquaintances. Many look exhausted – they have been walking around aimlessly all day – and some look ill. There is a self-consciousness here, such as one may find in a dole queue.
40. FRONT OF THE CHURCH GATE.
Two or three men at the head of the queue are in shot, leaning against the gate.
Manley comes striding into shot. He tries to open the gate, which is locked. He pushes at it.
MAN IN QUEUE: There is a queue, mate.
MANLEY: [Turning.] What?
MAN IN QUEUE: Queue. [He nods in the direction of the queue.]
Manley looks towards the queue, then again at the locked gate. He is very put out.
MANLEY: Mmm.
Grudgingly, Manley strides off towards the back of the queue and out of shot.
41. STREET OUTSIDE CHURCH. NIGHT.
Manley is walking back towards the end of the queue. He ignores the men.
42. PAVEMENT.
David, the last man in the queue, is sitting on the pavement, his back against the church wall.
David, thirty, wears a corduroy jacket and a shirt – which appear for the moment to be in reasonable condition – and ill-fitting trousers with wide flares. Like others in the queue, he looks bored and tired. To a large extent, he is affecting these looks to disguise his feeling uncomfortable and undignified.