Stephen is sitting at a desk looking at a computer
terminal. Hugh is leaning over his shoulder.
Stephen Dammit, Peter.
Hugh Thanks John.
Stephen This is ... what can I say? This is good work.
Hugh Well I kind of hoped that we might be along the
right lines here.
Stephen Right lines? Dammit backwards into a narrow
space, Peter, this is the best I've ever seen.
Hugh Jill reckons ten days at the most. Which means we
could have this up and running by the 29th.
Stephen You mean ... ?
Hugh Exactly, John. The Derwent Enterprises Board
meeting. With something like this nestling in your
hip pocket, you could really kick some arse.
Stephen starts to laugh smugly.
What's up, John?
Stephen Peter, can you imagine how Marjorie is going to
Hugh Well John, at a guess I'd say that she'll be wilder
than a hungry hellcat in a tornado.
Stephen That's putting it mildly.
Hugh Is it?
The both laugh creepily. The phone rings. Hugh
picks it up.
Hugh Hahaha ... Yes, hello? Hold on Sarah. (To
Stephen) It's Marjorie.
Stephen Haha. Well talk of the she-devil. Oh what the hell,
I'll take the call.
Hugh It's not a call, John. She's outside and she wants to
Stephen Marjorie's here?
Stephen takes the phone.
Stephen Show her in, Sarah.
Hugh John, are you out of your goddamned mind?
Stephen We don't know what it's about, Peter.
Hugh To hell with what it's about, John! You and I have
broken out arses building up this health club,
with Marjorie gunning for us every centimetre of
the way, and now you're going to let her swan in
Stephen Now listen to me, Peter ...
Hugh Listen be damned! In case you'd forgotten, John,
that bitchfiend tried to break us in two ...
Stephen Peter ...
Hugh I'm not going to let you do it, John!
They are now nose to nose across the desk. In the
background the door opens and Mrjorie enters. She is
late forties, Joan Collinsish glamour.
Marjorie Hello John.
Stephen Hello Marjorie.
Hugh says nothing.
Marjorie I hope I'm not interrupting anything?
Stephen Not at all. Peter and I were just running over one
or two things.
Marjorie Are you all right, Peter? You seem a little
Hugh Yeah. Maybe I'll go outside and get a bite of air.
The atmosphere in here seems to have got to my
Exit Hugh. Stephen and Marjorie look at each other for
Stephen You look well, Marjorie. You look damned well.
Stephen They suit you. I like what you've done to your hair.
Looks much better there.
Marjorie Thanks John, you look pretty fit yourself.
Stephen Fit? Yeah, one of the perks of running a health
and leisure business I guess. That is ... if I still
do run it?
Marjorie The meeting will decide, John, you know that.
Stephen (Pouring two drinks) And who will decide how
the meeting goes, Marjorie? Dammit old man
Ashby's in your pocket, Dexter and O'Neill will do
whatever you damned well tell them and Tim will
jump with the tide. Do you still like it straight up?
Marjorie Two lumps of ice.
Hugh has appeared at the window and is looking
I do whatever I do for the boy, John. You must
Stephen Yeah, the boy. Have you taught him to hate me,
Marjorie Hate you? Hate you? You'll never really know me,
Stephen Not if I live to be a chairman.
Hugh is trying to listen.
Marjorie Peter resents me.
Stephen Peter? Dammit in top gear, Marjorie, what are you
Hugh (Muffled, through the glass) Yeah? What are
They don't hear him.
Marjorie I just want you to know, whatever happens after
the meeting ... that it wasn't personal, John.
Strictly business. I still like you ... a lot.
Stephen (Roughly yet somehow tenderly) Come here, you ...
They kiss deeply and erotically.
Hugh is distraught the other side of the glass. He
hammers on it.
Hugh Leave him alone you bitch-cat! John don't listen to
her. Damn you!
They part, panting.
Marjorie I'll see you round the boardroom table.
Stephen Yeah ... round the boardroom table.
She makes to leave.
Oh and Marjorie ...
Stephen Damn you to hell you're one hell of a woman.
Marjorie I know. Well ... you know where to find me.
Stephen takes an Oedipal decision.
Stephen (Following her) Daaaaaamn!
Hugh climbs in through the window in a desperate bid
to stop him. He trips over.
Stephen Chris Patten? Isn't he Margaret
Thatcher's new corporate logo?
I'm not sure.