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turning to page one
1995. A modern apartment, all cool and glass. MICHAEL BERG is preparing breakfast, laying the table for two. He is 51, dark- haired, saturnine. He is doing everything with deliberate quietness, taking the occasional glance towards the bedroom to check he’s not making too much noise. He is boiling an egg, which he takes out of boiling water and puts on a sparkling clean plate.
MICHAEL puts the yolk-stained egg-cup and plate into the sink, his breakfast eaten, then, as noiseless as he can, turns on the tap to run water. The bedroom door opens, and BRIGITTE comes out, naked. She’s attractive, younger. The credits end.
BRIGITTE
You didn’t wake me.
MICHAEL
You were sleeping.
BRIGITTE
You let me sleep because you can’t
bear to have breakfast with me.
It’s half-serious. MICHAEL doesn’t react.
MICHAEL
Nothing could be further from the
truth. I boiled you an egg. See?
MICHAEL produces a second boiled egg in a cup, seemingly from nowhere, like a magician, and puts it on the table.
MICHAEL
I’d hardly have boiled you an egg
if I didn’t want to see you. Tea or
coffee?
BRIGITTE has re-appeared from the bedroom, now in a dressing gown. She’s still half-serious.
BRIGITTE
Does any woman ever stay long
enough to find out what the hell
goes on in your head?
MICHAEL smiles to himself.
BRIGITTE
What are you doing tonight?
MICHAEL
I’m seeing my daughter.
BRIGITTE
Your daughter? You’ve kept very
MICHAEL
Have I? She’s been abroad for a
year. Did you say tea?