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87 EXT. RIVER OARE - DEVON. 1910. DAY
Late afternoon. George, Peter and Michael pick up their
fishing tackle and the day's catch - six small trout - then
set off for home.
88 EXT. ASHTON WOODS & TRACK - DEVON. 1910. DAY
Michael sits on a tree-trunk by the side of a woodland
track, reading At the Back of the North Wind. Occasionally
he glances along the track to make sure no one is coming. A
thin wisp of smoke rises from the bushes beyond him, where
George is teaching Peter the art of inhalation.
GEORGE
Now try again... but you must
draw it in, right down into your
lungs, then hold it there - like
I did - three or four seconds,
then let it out slowly, not all
at once.
(pause)
That's the style... that's my
lady nicotine!
Suddenly Michael reacts to something -
MICHAEL
(calling)
Ca-ve!
Behind the bushes, Peter splutters smoke from his lungs as
George hurriedly stubs out the cigarette.
GEORGE
Bugger it!
George and Peter duck down behind the bank as the rhythmic
sound of marching feet approach.
Presently a Company of HIGHLAND SOLDIERS appear along the
woodland track. The setting is almost the same as that at
Black Lake in 1901 when George, as a small boy, had watched
a distant Company of soldiers marching along a similar
woodland track. Then it had been a distant image, vague
shapes against the horizon. Now the SOLDIERS are much
closer, though the wistful look in George's eye remains the
same.
George lies flat on his stomach next to Peter, watching the
SOLDIERS as they pass by, their feet marching through
foreground between George and the CAMERA. As the last of
the SOLDIERS pass, George skulks in parallel with them
through the bushes, followed by Peter and Michael. They
reach the main woodland track, CAMERA HOLDING on George's
faraway_gaze as he watches the SOLDIERS march into the
distance.
89 EXT. ASHTON FARM & HILL - DEVON. 1910. DUSK
George and Peter join up with Jack at a point where the
track rises over the brow of a hill. Michael walks on ahead
of them, deep in his reading. Beyond the hill lies Ashton
Farm. Michael reaches the brow; he looks up from his book,
then notices something.
Michael's POV: all the blinds have been drawn across the
windows of the farmhouse. Barrie appears in the porch, his
arms hanging limp, his hair dishevelled, wild-eyed.
MICHAEL
(a whisper)
Mother...
Michael starts running towards the house, dropping his
fishing-rod and book as he runs, CAMERA HOLDING as he
reaches Barrie in the porch.
MICHAEL
But she promised, Uncle Jim she
promised!
Michael breaks down, banging his head with his fist as if
trying to wake himself from a nightmare.
MICHAEL
(barely audible)
Oh, Uncle Jim, say it's not true!
Please, mother, wake me up
mother, wake me up, wake me up,
wake me up!
Michael looks despairingly at Barrie, then impulsively
throws his arms round him and clings to him.
90 INT. ASHTON FARM - SYLVIA'S BEDROOM. 1910. DUSK
The room is in semi-darkness. CAMERA remains in LOW ANGLE
throughout the scene, HOLDING on the lifeless figure of
Sylvia in foreground, lying in bed, her arms resting by her
side. Presently a cry disrupts the stillness: an eerie,
Banshee wail coming from the stairs outside -
BARRIE
(O.S., crying out)
Ja-ck! No, Jack - please! She
didn't want you to see her...!
JACK
(O.S., defiantly)
I'm going to see my mother!
BARRIE (O.S.)
No, Jack, I beg of you!
The door is flung open and Jack enters. He stands for a
moment in the shaft of light from the landing outside, then
walks slowly over to the bed. Barrie follows him into the
room, cradling Michael.
Jack kneels beside his mother. He kisses his own hand, then
lays it gently on her forehead. In the background, George
and Peter file into the room, followed by Mary Hodgson, who
holds Nico in her arms, shielding his eyes. Jack lowers his
head, as if in prayer, then notices something.
JACK
(simply)
What's this? This ring?
There's a diamond and sapphire engagement ring on Sylvia's
finger. Barrie moves forward, a note of guilt in his voice.
BARRIE
It's an engagement ring, Jack.
I gave it to your mother.
(pause)
Please Jack - try to understand.
Jack gets up, the tears brimming in his eyes. He starts to
back away: away from Sylvia, away from Barrie.
JACK
Oh, I understand alright.
Jack looks round at his brothers, standing somewhat
sheepishly in the background, then turns on Barrie.
JACK
Congratulations, Uncle Jim.
Now you've finally got us where
you want us!
Jack turns and marches out of the room. A pause, then
Barrie utters a deep, anguished moan in response to Jack's
accusation.
In the background, Mary Hodgson shepherds George, Peter,
Michael and Nico from the room, leaving Barrie alone with
the lifeless Sylvia.
SLOW FADE OUT.
PART THREE:
An Awfully Big Adventure
91 EXT. KENSINGTON GARDENS. 1913. DAY
[MAIN TITLES appear over a series of dawn images of
Kensington Gardens, as at the beginning of Parts 1 and 2]
Barrie and Michael, now aged 13, stand beneath umbrellas,
looking up at Sir George Frampton's statue of Peter Pan,
newly erected in May, 1912.
MICHAEL
He doesn't look much like me,
does he.
BARRIE
No, I fear something's been lost
in the translation. It doesn't
show the Devil in him.
Michael smiles as they walk away along the tow-path by the
edge of the Serpentine.
MICHAEL
You're going to miss me something
shocking when I go to Eton.
BARRIE
How do you know?
MICHAEL
Mary says so.
BARRIE
Oh, does she indeed. And what
other pearls of wisdom has Mary
got to offer?
MICHAEL
She thinks you spoil me. She says
my socks cost you twelve-and-six -
a pair.
BARRIE
Hmm. Well for her information -
and yours - I shall miss your
socks far more than you.
That dazzling creature Michael
has already gone whistling down
the wind, but your socks are as
glorious as ever.
MICHAEL
I trust you're not becoming
sentimental?
BARRIE
At twelve-and-six a pair?
Michael laughs, CAMERA HOLDING as they walk on through the
rain.
92 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - DRAWING-ROOM. 1913. NIGHT
CLOSE SHOT: A large portrait of Sylvia hangs above the
fireplace in the darkened drawing-room.
BARRIE (V.O.)
My dearest Sylvia,
Three years since those last days
at Ashton, and time again to give
you an account of the boys'
progress, though I am certain
enough that you have your eye on
them still, even in death...
Barrie sits at a small bureau at the far end of the room,
writing a letter.
BARRIE
(V.O., cont'd)
George is up at Cambridge, and
has now come to twenty years.
When I first saw him, I told you
he was a gorgeous boy, and long
afterwards I discovered that you
thought I'd been singularly happy
in my choice of adjectives. May
all turn out as you and Arthur
would have wished. It rests
mainly with him, but I like to
try and help....
Barrie pauses as he hears an indistinct sound from
somewhere in the house.
BARRIE
(V.O., cont'd)
All the boys greeted my baronetcy
news with utter contempt...
(rethinks it)
...with heartless derision, which
naturally enough delighted me
enormously.
Peter and Jack are both away on
training, and Michael is about to
start at Eton, so soon I shall be
alone again, with only doodle
Nico for company...
MICHAEL
(calling, O.C.)
Come out!
Barrie reacts to the cry with anxious familiarity. He gets
up and goes to the door.
93 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - STAIRS & LANDING. 1913. NIGHT
Michael stands at the top of the stairs in his nightshirt,
walking in his sleep and shouting at some unseen foe.
MICHAEL
Come out so's I can see you! You
shan't frighten me... nothing
frightens me!
Barrie climbs the stairs towards him. It is a sight he has
evidently witnessed many times.
BARRIE
It's alright, Michael - there's
no one there...
MICHAEL
(ignoring him)
...through the water, spinning
water - I can see him - yes,
there he is - come out and take
me!
MARY HODGSON (O.S.)
Michael?
Barrie reaches Michael, guides him back along the landing -
BARRIE
There, there, it's alright...
94 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - MICHAEL'S BEDROOM. 1913.
NIGHT
Barrie leads Michael back to his bed -
MICHAEL
White mists spinning in... Can't
see him any more - all going
misty white...
Mary Hodgson enters the room, a shawl wrapped about her
shoulders.
MARY HODGSON
I can manage, Sir James. He often
gets these nightmares.
BARRIE
(tersely)
I'm well aware of that.
(to Michael)
Come on, Michael - you're quite
safe now.
MICHAEL
Spinning mists, take me down...
Can't swim - try - can't...
Deeper down, down...
Barrie guides him back into bed and tucks him in while Mary
Hodgson stands by, irritated by Barrie's encroachment on
her domain.
BARRIE
(to Michael)
There we are, in we get. All over
now, it's all gone.
Barrie strokes Michael's forehead, and the boy closes his
eyes. A pause, then Barrie walks back to the door.
BARRIE
(to Mary Hodgson)
I think I'll sit with him for a
while - I'll just get a
newspaper.
95 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - STAIRS & HALLWAY. 1913. NIGHT
Barrie walks downstairs, followed by Mary Hodgson.
MARY HODGSON
But Sir James, I understood you
were returning to the Adelphi.
BARRIE
I can just as easily work here.
Besides, I like sitting with
Michael. I think he rather likes
it too.
MARY HODGSON
I dare say, but the boys are my
responsibility.
BARRIE
Our responsibility.
Barrie returns to the drawing-room, leaving Mary Hodgson on
the stairs. She hesitates a moment, then reluctantly goes
back to her own bedroom.
96 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - DRAWING-ROOM. 1913. NIGHT
Barrie collects a newspaper, and is about to leave when he
remembers his letter to Sylvia. He walks over to the
bureau, picks up the letter and takes it over to the
fireplace. Kneeling by the fire beneath the portrait of
Sylvia, Barrie tucks the letter into the flames.
BARRIE (V.O.)
The only ghosts who creep back
into this world are dead young
mothers returning to see how
their children fare....
CAMERA moves in on the letter as it catches fire,
DISSOLVING
INTO:
97 INT. 23 CAMPDEN HILL SQUARE - MICHAEL'S BEDROOM. 1913. DAY
CLOSE SHOT: Michael asleep, lit by the early morning light
filtering in between the curtains. Barrie's VOICE-OVER
continues without a break from the preceding scene.
BARRIE
(V.O., cont'd)
Would Sylvia recognize Michael if
she were to come back now?
Michael thinks I'm being
sentimental, doesn't see that the
boy in him is already dead; in
his place: a stranger.
Barrie sits in a chair at the foot of Michael's bed,
writing in his little notebook while observing Michael
asleep.
BARRIE
(V.O., cont'd)
If Michael had died at twelve, he
would have stayed a boy forever,
just as David did...
(an idea)
Hmm. Could work this into my Mary
Rose story. Mother dies, comes
back to look for her boy. She's
still as young as the day she
died, but her boy has grown up -
she doesn't recognize him, à la
Peter Pan and Wendy.
MICHAEL
(O.C., sleepily)
Uncle Jim?
Barrie glances up to find Michael looking at him.
BARRIE
Good morning.
MICHAEL
Was I at it again?
BARRIE
You were. Can you remember it?
MICHAEL
Only you.
(pause)
Why do I have such nightmares?
BARRIE
Oh, it's a sign of great
imagination - one of the many
prices one must pay for genius. I
myself suffer from them
constantly.
MICHAEL
(smiling)
I hope I won't get them at Eton.
BARRIE
You won't.
MICHAEL
Why not?
BARRIE
Because I won't be there to
inspire them.
Barrie pinches his toes at the bottom of the bed as Mary
Hodgson enters, followed by Nico, now aged ten.
MARY HODGSON
Good morning, Michael.
(a nod to Barrie)
Sir James.
NICO
(brightly)
'Morning, Uncle Jim -
(to Michael)
Mary says you were walking in
your sleep last night...
MARY HODGSON
(sharply)
Nico! What did I just tell you?
Now run along downstairs and help
Amy lay the breakfast. Come
along, Michael, you too - we've a
lot to do if we're to get you off
on time.
Barrie gets up, winks at Michael, then starts to follow
Nico from the room.
MARY HODGSON
(to Michael)
I've packed your overnight
suitcase, but I seem to be a grey
sock short. Can't find it
anywhere.
(to Barrie)
You haven't seen it, have you,
Sir James?
BARRIE
No, no.
Barrie lifts his trouser-bottoms: he is wearing one black
sock, one grey one. Without further comment, Barrie coasts
from the room.
MARY HODGSON
(irritated, to Michael)
Come on, no dawdling. And don't
forget to scrub your neck.
98 INT. ADELPHI TERRACE - STUDY. 1913. DAY
Barrie returns to his Adelphi Terrace flat, overlooking the
River Thames. A small hallway leads into an enormous
panelled study, filled with a sprawling assortment of
chairs and sofas, bookcases and shadowy corners. The walls
and ceiling are stained dark brown, and the only light
source is from seven panoramic windows, which give it the
appearance of a Captain's cabin on board a sailing ship. A
huge fireplace cavern, or inglenook, dominates one end of
the room, housing a threadbare sofa, a wooden settle
opposite, and a large mound of smoking ash between them.
Many of the objects in the study have been seen in Barrie's
previous homes at Leinster Corner and Black Lake Cottage,
but there are now many more photographs of Sylvia and her
five boys. Three photographs in particular hang between the
inglenook and the main bookcase: George in his Eton Cricket
XI, Michael aged 12 fishing in the Outer Hebrides, and Nico
in prep-school uniform.
Barrie wanders along the hallway and into the study,
followed by his manservant BROWN, who wears the clothes and
expression of an undertaker.
BROWN
Mr Frohman telephoned from New
York, Sir James - he'll ring
again tomorrow. Oh, and the
Editor of The Times, to remind
you about your article on Captain
Scott... he'd be grateful if you
could send it over some time
tomorrow.
BARRIE
Thank you, Brown.
Barrie takes off his shoes, replaces them with carpet
slippers, then settles himself in an armchair as Brown
brings him a whisky and the evening paper.
BROWN
I believe Mrs Brown has some
haddock prepared for your supper.
BARRIE
Er - no thank you, Brown.
BROWN
Very good, Sir James. Will you be
requiring anything further
tonight?
BARRIE
No thank you, Brown.
BROWN
Then I'll bid you good night,
sir.
BARRIE
Good night.
Brown goes, leaving Barrie alone. He glances through the
paper, then deposits it on the floor and stares at his
desk, situated in the middle of the room. The study is in
silence, broken only by the faint sound of tugs hooting on
the river, and the distant chimes of Big Ben.
A long pause. Barrie waits for the last chime of the hour
to die away; then, with a heigh-ho sigh, he gets up and
walks over to his desk.
In LONG SHOT, Barrie sits down, searches for a clean sheet
of paper amid the debris, and starts to write, but without
enthusiasm.
BARRIE
(mumbling)
I've always had a passion for
adventurers, and Captain Scott
was no exception. He was also my
friend.
A pause, then Barrie screws up the sheet of paper,
dispatches it into the wastepaper basket, and starts again.
BARRIE
Almost every Briton alive feels
prouder these days because, er -
because of a scrap of paper,
found 6,000 miles away in a snow
bound tent - prouder because of
what... no, prouder because he
knows that the breed lives on...
With growing frustration, Barrie consigns his second
attempt to the wastepaper basket. He glances round the room
for inspiration, then pauses, his attention caught by the
photograph of Michael, aged 12, hanging on the wall. He
turns back to his desk, extracts a sheet of writing-paper,
and begins to write, his apathetic mumblings now replaced
by the intimacy of VOICE-OVER -
BARRIE (V.O.)
Dearest Valentine, I believe that
when Daniel Defoe was describing
his desert island, he was... he
was describing London without
Michael.
HOLD a BEAT as Barrie looks up, almost into CAMERA.
99 INT. SAVOY GRILL ROOM - FROHMAN'S CORNER. 1914. DAY
Barrie and George, now aged 20, sit at Frohman's Corner
Table, drinking coffee after lunch. George looks at several
snapshots of a Scottish shooting lodge, Auch Lodge, while
Barrie talks.
In the background, sitting at the table behind them, are
TWO ARMY OFFICERS.
BARRIE
But he's an Oppidan scholar - top
of his division - Captain of the
Under Fourteen-and-a-Halfs - more
prizes in one year than you and
Peter put together... so why's he
so miserable?
GEORGE
Oh, he'll settle in yet.
BARRIE
Yes, but a year! You took to Eton
your first day.
GEORGE
I'm not Michael.
BARRIE
That's what his tutor keeps
saying - if only Michael were
more like George.
GEORGE
Ah, but I'm an eternal optimist.
BARRIE
All lazy men are.
GEORGE
Well thank God Michael's not,
otherwise you'd have two
abandoned young debauchees on
your hands instead of one. I say,
this Auch Lodge place looks quite
a spot. What's the fishing like?
BARRIE
Excellent in August, if we were
going in June, and excellent in
June as we're going in August.
You know, I'm wondering... I
wonder if his health isn't to
blame in some way - he's always
been on the frail side.
GEORGE
There was nothing very frail
about him up at Ammhuinsuidh when
he landed that salmon. If you ask
me, Uncle Jim, you worry far too
much about him. What date are we
going up to Scotland?
BARRIE
But he needs me.
GEORGE
Does he?
BARRIE
Of course he does, otherwise why
would he write to me every day?
GEORGE
(surprised)
Every day?
BARRIE
Every day.
GEORGE
And you write back to him?
BARRIE
Every day.
A beat.
GEORGE
August the what?
BARRIE
August the first. Why, does that
strike you in some way?
George makes a note of the date in his 1914 diary.
GEORGE
(writing)
I think it does rather. And I'm
not altogether sure I think it's
a good thing.
BARRIE
Why not?
GEORGE
Oh, I don't know. When I was at
Eton, I was far too busy getting
on with my life there to get
homesick. It was hard enough to
get me to write to mother once a
week, let alone every day. And
yet I'm sure she preferred it
that way. She never was the
clinging type.
BARRIE
I cling to no one against their
will.
GEORGE
No, but you have a way of bending
a boy's will. You can be like a
Black Spider to a trout when you
want to be.
George smiles affectionately.
BARRIE
(flattered)
I never hooked Jack.
GEORGE
You never wanted Jack. But you
hooked me... hook, line and
sinker.
BARRIE
No no, it was you who hooked me -
you, and your depraved ways, and
your heartless smile. I could
have gazed at that smile all day,
but you used to wrinkle up your
nose and say, "Mr Barrie, why do
you look at me so?"
GEORGE
(lightly)
I should have kicked you instead.
BARRIE
You did. Very hard. But then you
were always kicking me.
(pause)
Always loved to be kicked by you.
Barrie touches George's wrist, smiles at him wistfully.
There is an almost perfect understanding between them, and
although George may be critical of Barrie at times, it is
always mellowed by deep affection.
GEORGE
(glancing at diary)
Now if we're going up to Scotland
on the first, can I go off to
Italy for a couple of weeks in
July when I get back from
Cambridge? Micky Lawrence knows a
friend we can stay with near
Venice.
BARRIE
Yes, by all means.
The Head Waiter hands Barrie the bill.
BARRIE
(signing bill)
Of course I'm fooling myself...
He doesn't need me.
GEORGE
Oh, I expect he does. Uncle
Gerald says you've got Gaby
Deslys to play Rosy Rapture in
your new review. Have you met her
yet? I think she's an absolute
poem!
Barrie hands the bill back to the Head Waiter.
HEAD WAITER
Thank you, Sir James.
BARRIE
(almost to himself)
He writes to me, but he's no
longer writing to me. He runs to
me, but he's no longer running to
me. I can tell. He seems to be
running to me, but he's actually
running along a road that is
carrying him still more rapidly
in the opposite direction.
George makes no response. His attention has been caught by
the TWO ARMY OFFICERS; he watches them as they leave the
Grill Room, the familiar wistful look in his eye.
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