Page 189 - SHERLOCK transcripts
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188


             NIGHT TIME. 221B. Sherlock sits in his armchair gently plucking the strings of his violin. In his
             mind he can still hear Mycroft’s phone call.
             MYCROFT (voiceover): Bond Air is go, that’s decided. Check with the Coventry lot.
             (Sherlock finally rouses a little and looks up.)
             SHERLOCK: Coventry.
             (Irene, still wearing Sherlock’s dressing gown and with her hair down, is curled up in John’s
             chair watching him closely.)
             IRENE: I’ve never been. Is it nice?
             SHERLOCK: Where’s John?
             IRENE: He went out a couple of hours ago.
             SHERLOCK: I was just talking to him.
             IRENE (smiling): He said you do that. What’s Coventry got to do with anything?
             SHERLOCK: It’s a story, probably not true. In the Second World War, the Allies knew that
             Coventry was going to get bombed because they’d broken the German code but they didn’t
             want the Germans to know that they’d broken the code, so they let it happen anyway.
             IRENE: Have you ever had anyone?
             (Sherlock frowns at her blankly.)
             SHERLOCK: Sorry?
             IRENE: And when I say “had,” I’m being indelicate.
             SHERLOCK: I don’t understand.
             IRENE: Well, I’ll be delicate then.
             (Getting up from the chair she walks over and kneels in front of Sherlock, putting her left hand
             on top of his right hand and curling her fingers around it.)
             IRENE: Let’s have dinner.
             SHERLOCK: Why?
             IRENE: Might be hungry.
             SHERLOCK: I’m not.
             IRENE: Good.
             (Hesitantly, Sherlock sits forward a little and slowly turns his right hand over, curling his own
             fingers around her wrist.)
             SHERLOCK: Why would I want to have dinner if I wasn’t hungry?
             (Slowly Irene begins to lean forward, her gaze fixed on his lips.)
             IRENE (softly): Oh, Mr Holmes ...
             (Sherlock’s fingers gently stroke across the underside of her wrist.)
             IRENE: ... if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night, would you have dinner
             with me?
             MRS HUDSON (calling up the stairs): Sherlock!
             (Sherlock’s eyes slide towards the door.)
             IRENE (ruefully): Too late.
             SHERLOCK: That’s not the end of the world; that’s Mrs Hudson.
             (Irene pulls her hand free and stands up, walking away from him as Mrs Hudson comes in with
             none other than Plummer from the Palace.)
             MRS HUDSON: Sherlock, this man was at the door. Is the bell still not working?
             (She turns around to Plummer and points at Sherlock.)
             MRS HUDSON: He shot it.
             SHERLOCK (tetchily, to Plummer): Have you come to take me away again?
             PLUMMER: Yes, Mr Holmes.
             SHERLOCK: Well, I decline.
             PLUMMER (taking an envelope from his jacket and offering it to him): I don’t think you do.
             (Sherlock snatches it from him and opens it. Inside is a Business Class boarding pass for
             Flyaway Airways in the name of Sherlock Holmes for flight number 007 to Baltimore, scheduled
             to leave at 18.30.
             Very shortly afterwards, Sherlock has put on his coat and is getting into the back of a car
             outside the flat. As Plummer gets into the passenger seat and the car drives away, Irene stands
             at the window of the flat and watches them go.)

             In the car, Sherlock gets out the plane ticket again, then tells Plummer what he has deduced.
             SHERLOCK: There’s going to be a bomb on a passenger jet. The British and American
             governments know about it but rather than expose the source of that information they’re going



                                                            Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)
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