Sherlock..........Who?

The Six Thatchers Part Three

  MARY (voiceover): My darling.

(John sits in a chair at home reading a handwritten letter.)

MARY (voiceover): I need to tell you this because you mustn't hate me for going away.

(The scene wipes to the cabin of an aeroplane. Mary, wearing white slacks, a light striped jacket, a colourful scarf around her head and large round Prada sunglasses, is sitting in an aisle seat chewing a piece of gum. She turns to the man sitting next to her at the window seat and talks to him in a broad New York accent.)

MARY: Pardon me. I can hear a squeaking. Can you hear a squeaking?

(The man has looked up from the book he's reading. He glances around the cabin briefly.)

PASSENGER (English accent): No.

(He lowers his head to his book.)

MARY: Only I watched a documentary on the Discovery Channel.

(Sighing, the man lifts his head to her.)

MARY: "Why Planes Fail." Did you see it?

PASSENGER: Can't say I did.

MARY: Oh, truly terrifying. Swore I would never fly again, yet here I am!

(She chuckles nervously. A female flight attendant walks over to her.)

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Everything okay, madam?

MARY: No! No, no, it's not, but then what's the use in complaining? I hear a squeaking. Probably the wing'll come off, is all.

(The attendant laughs politely.)

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Everything's fine, I promise you. Just relax.

MARY (sarcastically): Oh, okay, relax. (She slaps her fellow passenger's arm as the attendant walks away towards the rear of the plane.)She said relax. (She sniggers.)

PASSENGER (politely): Did you have a nice time? In London?

MARY: It was okay, I guess, but did somebody hide the sun? (She takes off her sunglasses.) Did you lose it in the war?

(Laughing, she slaps his arm again. He smiles politely and returns to his book. Mary, chomping on her gum, turns and looks along the aisle behind her. Back at John's, he continues to read her letter. An overlay of her writing drifts across the screen.)

MARY (voiceover): I gave myself permission to have an ordinary life. I'm not running. I promise you that. I just need to do this in my own way.

(On the plane, Mary clings to one arm of her chair and hunches forward.)

MARY (in her New York accent): Oh God. I'm s... I-I don't feel so good. Oh my God.

(As she lifts her hand and raises it to her mouth, the man beside her turns round from where he was looking out of the window and reaches up to push the Call button. At the front of the section, two flight attendants look round at the sound of the 'bing' and the one who spoke to Mary before comes down the aisle. Mary is breathing heavily and gulping as if she is going to be sick. She glances up as the attendant arrives.)

FLIGHT ATTENDANT (squatting down next to her): Everything okay, madam?

MARY: I think I'm dying. I don't feel so good.

(She gasps in a few breaths.)

FLIGHT ATTENDANT (comfortingly): You're all right.

MARY: Oh ... (she reaches out and cup's the woman's cheek) ... you're sweet. (She strokes her cheek.) You have a very kind face. God will smile on you. (She grizzles, then raises her other hand towards her mouth.