Page 410 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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(She looks up at him.)
MRS HOLMES: Not absolutely sure why you’re here.
(She drinks from the glass.)
SHERLOCK: I invited him.
BILL: I’m his protégé, Mrs ’olmes. When ’e dies, I get all his stuff, an’ ’is job.
(She looks at him, a little startled.)
SHERLOCK (precisely, still reading the paper): No.
BILL: Oh. Well, I help out a bit.
SHERLOCK: Closer.
(Mycroft and Mrs Holmes look up at Bill.)
BILL: If ’e does get murdered or something ...
(Mycroft and his mother look appalled.)
SHERLOCK (still looking at his newspaper): Probably stop talking now.
BILL: Okay.
MYCROFT (to Sherlock): Lovely when you bring your friends round(!)
MRS HOLMES (putting her glass down): Stop it, you. Somebody’s put a bullet in my boy ... (she
walks towards Sherlock with the basket of crackers but then turns back to look at Mycroft) ...
and if I ever find out who, I shall turn absolutely monstrous.
(She apparently sees something on a nearby work surface.)
MRS HOLMES: Ah. This was for Mary. (She walks away with whatever it is.) I’ll be back in a
minute.
(Sherlock, who had folded his hands in front of his mouth, now lowers his left hand and looks at
his watch. A mental image of a stopwatch appears above his hand, starting a countdown from 7
minutes and 37 seconds. He refolds his hands.)

In the sitting room of the cottage, which also has random Christmas decorations around it, Mr
Holmes goes across to the open door of the wood-burning fireplace and puts the two pieces of
wood into the lit fire. Mrs Holmes comes in.
MRS HOLMES: Ah, Mary.
(Carrying a mug, she takes it across to where Mary is sitting in an armchair facing the fire. She
has a blanket over her stomach and legs and is flicking through the pages of a book.)
MRS HOLMES: There you are.
(She hands the mug to Mary, who smiles as she takes it and drinks from it.)
MRS HOLMES: Cup of tea. Now, if Father starts making little humming noises, just give him a
little poke. That usually does it.
(Mary giggles and Mrs Holmes chuckles. Mr Holmes has straightened up from the fire, dusting
off his hands, and has turned to face them while putting his hands in his pockets. He has a pair
of glasses on a chain around his neck. It seems that he has taken up his wife’s suggestion of
wearing them on a chain – “like Larry Grayson.” He smiles at Mary as Mrs Holmes turns to look
at him. Mary holds up the book to show the front cover. The book is called “The Dynamics of
Combustion” and its author is M. L. Holmes.)
MARY (to Mrs Holmes): Did you write this?
MRS HOLMES: Oh, that silly old thing. You mustn’t read that. Mathematics must seem terribly
fatuous now!
(She turns to her husband, who is now gazing into space and humming quietly to himself.)
MRS HOLMES (walking towards him): Now, no humming, you!
(She pats his backside affectionately. Mary, taking another drink of her tea, smiles fondly at her
as she leaves the room and closes the door. Mr Holmes smiles at Mary.)
MR HOLMES: Complete flake, my wife, but happens to be a genius.
MARY: She was a mathematician?
MR HOLMES: Gave it all up for children.
(Mary smiles and sips from her mug again.)
MR HOLMES: I could never bear to argue with her. I’m something of a moron myself. But she’s
... (he glances away briefly, then looks back to Mary and leans closer to her, smiling) ...
unbelievably hot!
MARY (giggling): Oh my God. You’re the sane one, aren’t you?!
MR HOLMES (raising his eyebrows at her): Aren’t you?!
(She lowers her eyes, trying to keep her smile steady, and then drinks again. The door to the
sitting room opens and John comes in, glancing briefly at Mary and then looking across to Mr
Holmes, who turns to him.)
JOHN: Oh.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)