PURCHASE MOVIES

MOVIE INFO

PHOTOS

READING ROOM

MEMORABILIA

FUN STUFF

LINKS

CONTACT INFO

AMAZON.COM

www.carygrant.net

  

The Ultimate Cary Grant Pages - www.carygrant.net


FAN FICTION
"Warbride's Screwball Comedy"
Chapters 7 thru 9


Chapters
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Chapter Seven
-- by Helen Fredericks --

Through the soft blur of the camera lens, we see Cary walking down the hall of a cruise ship. The light swaying of the sips motion is evident. As Cary approaches the deck door, it suddenly opens. In the door way an angel appears. He can't see her face, just the glowing outline of her being. Wind blowing her hair and flowing dress. He stops and inhales as if someone has just punched him in the stomach.

As his angel approaches him, he is squinting to see who it is. The door closes behind her and he sees her face.

"Darling," he says, "Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you."

She walks up to Cary and gives him a sweet, soft kiss. "I just went for a walk on deck." She smiles. "The fresh sea air is so wonderful!"

"It is, isn't Darling." Cary says putting his arm around her small waist.

"Did you miss me?" she asks.

"Yes, Yes I did. It was a life time that you were gone." He smiles down at her. "We won't do that again, will we!" Cary states this as opposed to a question.

"No we won't, dear." She says furling her brow and shaking her head no. "Do you forgive me?" she pleads.

"How could I not?"

(We see Cary turn onto his side in bed, hugging his pillow with just the hint of a smile on his face.)

In his dream, suddenly, it is evening. Cary is dressed in a black tux and his angel wearing a soft yellow satin evening gown, are dancing to the ships orchestra. Although, many people are saying hello or trying to engage them in conversation, They only see each other. It is like they are alone on the ship, the only ones alive.

The music stops and they return to their table. The orchestra leader steps up to the microphone and taps it to be sure it is on.

"Ladies and Gentlemen." He says. Please raise you glasses in a toast." The orchestra leader turns towards Cary's table." To Mr. & Mrs. Cary Grant. May you have a lifetime of Happiness, Health and Love."

Cary looks lovingly into the eyes of his Bride and smiling, says, "Especially Love, Mags. Especially Love." They raise their glasses and drink. Cary nods a thank you to the orchestra leader.

"Excuse me Mr. Grant….Mr. Grant…." The ships photographer steps up to take a picture. The flash from the camera goes off, suddenly blinding Cary. When the glare disappears, he is standing on deck, alone.

"Mags?" he says. "Mags where are you?" Cary looks all around. All he sees is the empty deck. "Darling, please, where are you?"

Off in a distance he here's someone calling his name, " Cary!" "Cary!" "CARY!"

Cary jumps up, suddenly awakened out of his dream. His angel swiftly melts into his memory. "What the…" Cary is staring into Randy Scott's face. He looks around and he is in his bedroom.

"That's a good boy! Wake-up! Rise and shine!" Randy is laughing at the startled look on Cary's face.

"Randy, you gave a start!" Cary exclaims! "What are you doing here?

"Tennis Old man…Or did you forget we had a tennis date today?"

"Tennis, yes, tennis!" Cary is still shaking the cobwebs from his head.

******************************************************

The next scene, the camera pans over the interior of a Country Club. Randy and Cary are sitting at a table discussing their tennis game. When the door opens. Cary turns and stares unbelievably at the door. In the door way is his angel, backlit by sunlight, the wind blowing her hair.

Cary flashes back to his dream.

She sees him and heads over to his table. Cary is just beginning to stand as she reaches his table. A waitress arrives with two glasses of iced tea at exactly the same time.

"More ice tea, Mr. Grant?" She says. "I would have thought you ‘d given it up."

"Just wearing it." Cary smiles. He thinks to himself, ‘My how beautiful this young woman is.'

"Good idea," she says. "It's not your best color."

"Um, excuse me?" asks Randy." I believe I am missing something."

"It's a private joke, Mr. Scott" She winks at Cary and walks away.

"What?" Randy asks.

Cary follows her with his eyes. And without turning to Randy says." I'll tell you when your older."

"I didn't know you knew Margaret." Randy says.

Cary's head snaps back towards Randy. "Margaret?" Cary asks. "Did you say Margaret? Do you know her?"

"Yes, she a script girl at the studio!" Randy says. "A wonderful girl! You have met before? Haven't you?"

"She's the Angel I was telling you about!" Cary jumps up and hurries after his Angel. He is darting around people and it suddenly seems like the whole world in this Country Club restaurant. Just as he reaches her, a waitress drops a tray of drinks.

As Cary reaches out and grabs hold of Margaret's arm, he slips on a piece of ice. His legs go out from under him, and he pulls her down with him as he falls flat on his back with his angel landing on top of him!

She looks down at him and says, " If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was call out my name!" She smiles at him and begins laughing!

Cary doesn't move. He just stares at her! "Are you …" "Oh I'm sor…" He stammers. Suddenly they both break start laughing.


Chapter Eight
-- Jenny "the Nipper" Curtis --

"Well if it isn't Yashiko. Back for another round," she says and brushes off her skirt. She begins to limp away.

"Wait!" Cary says frantically and then composing himself briefly, "not so fast, Maggie my dear, you won't get away from me this time," he says and lays his arm gently on her shoulder.

"First we have to do something about that ankle," Cary says studying her feet.

"It's nothing, really, I just turned it."

"No, I insist." He says and grabs a bucket of ice from the tray of a passing waitress. Gallantly, he removes his handkerchief fills it with ice and ties it in a knot. He pulls up a chair for her.

"Sit." he commands and she obeys. Cary kneels down, removes her shoe and places the icepack tenderly on her ankle.

"How did you know my nickname was Maggie?"

"Oh, just a lucky guess."

"Ohhhhh," she says in high-pitched voice.

"What is it? The pain? I'll get a doctor."

Just a ticklish spot."

"I'll make a mental note of it," he says, "Now, Margaret, er, Maggie, is there anything else that I can do to repair the damage?"

"Well, I'm a little, hungry."

"Then I'll take you to lunch. But not here, I'm afraid I've broken all their dishes anyway. I know just the place."

"A whole new restaurant for you to destroy, eh?" she says with a wink.

We see Cary and Margaret riding in his convertible through Chinatown. He parks the car by the curb, runs around to the passenger side and opens the door for her. She steps out on the sidewalk, favoring her good foot.

"That hoof still bothering you?"

"It's not bad," she protests.

"Allow me," he says, and sweeps are off her feet, and carries her up the stairs with ease. She has a look of shocked surprise on her face which eventually melts into dopey, blissful delight. He sets her down inside a dimly lit Chinese Restaurant with bamboo chairs and red-framed oriental art.

"Door to door service. It's the least I can do."

"I'll bet." She says recovering her composure.

"Mr. Grant. So nice to see you!" says the restaurant's proprietor, a well-dressed man with an American accent.

"Ahh, Sammy, I'd like you to meet Margaret," Cary says, "Margaret, this is Sammy Kahn, he has a spicy chicken recipe which has known curative powers."

"A pleasure," she says.

"Likewise," Sammy says, "Your usual table, Mr Grant?"

Cary nods and Sammy leads them across the restaurant to a low black booth. As they sit, Sammy pulls a paper screen around the side of the table, leaving them in cozy seclusion.

"Uh oh. I suddenly have the felling that I've landed in the lions den," Margaret says.

"Not at all. If the screen makes you nervous, think of it as a hospital. St. Sammy's Home for Recovering Script Girls."

"How did you find this place?"

"Sammy and I have the same dry-cleaners, just down the street."

A waiter appears, pours them some tea.

"Spicy chicken and Buddha's Delight, please," Cary tells the waiter.

Cary notices the place settings. Chopsticks, no silverware.

"Oh, and will you please bring us silverware?"

"You can't be serious? You don't know how to eat with chopsticks?" Margaret asks bewildered.

"No, and if you ask my mother, she'd tell you that I occasionally have trouble with a fork and spoon."

"Well, we must do something to remedy that. What would Hedda Hopper say?

"Oh don't mention that name," Cary says wincing. "It makes my head ache and it's far too early to order a Martini."

"I can see the headline now. 'Cary dines at Chinese restaurant with a fork.' Now that would really ruin you."

"How come you know so much about chopsticks?"

"Struggling screen writers eat a lot of Chinese take out."

"I knew it. You're far too clever to be a just script girl. So you're working on a screenplay, eh?"

"I am but, don't worry I won't make you read any of my scripts"

"I'd much rather be mixed-up with a gold digging writer than a gold digging actress, anyway."

"Listen, if you think, I'm trying to gold dig you, then you've got another thing coming!"

"Simmer down, Maggie, I was just joking. I'd love to read your script."

"I'll allow you to read my script, only if you let me teach you chopsticks."

"Thank you, but I know chopsticks already," Cary says and sings an impromptu version of the famous piano clunker.

"Very clever. I meant these chopsticks," she says waving the wooden sticks in his face.

"Fair enough, teacher. I'm game."

"Well, to start, let me see how you hold your chopsticks," she says and Cary takes the chopsticks and places them under his lips so that they hang down like walrus teeth.

"That's no good at all. I can see we're going to have to start from scratch," she says taking the sticks from his lips. She grabs hold of his right hand and places one chopstick beneath his thumb. They exchange a long look.

"Say, I like this lesson already," he says. She blushes and then recovers.

"Now, pay attention. You hold the other one, like a pencil," she says arranging the second chopstick for him. "Let me see you pick up that napkin," she orders and he obliges, struggling at first, but eventually he manages to lift the napkin off the table.

"Terrific. You're a natural."

The waiter arrives with huge steaming platters of food. He moves the screen aside, leaving Cary and Margaret exposed to the rest of the restaurant.

"Uh-oh," Cary says, "Pop quiz." He picks up his sticks, concentrating on placing his hands correctly.

"OK, Class, forks down, chopsticks up. Go!" She says and Cary grasps at a piece of broccoli, he picks it off his plate, but looses his grip and the broccoli zings across the table. Margaret follows it with her eyes, as though watching a volley on tennis court. They both start giggling.

"Here's the trouble, you're gripping them too low," she says and she re-adjusts the sticks for him. At the touch of her hand he gazes at her lovingly.

"This is the best test I ever failed," he says with a sigh.

"You're doing fine. The tricky part is the rice, you've got to scoop it like this," she demonstrates, deftly manipulating a piece of sticky rice off her plate and into her mouth."

"You're a swell teacher," he says and tries to copy her. He scoops a bit of rice onto his sticks but it lands in his lap, before he makes it to his mouth. In frustration he picks up the plate, bringing close to his chin and shovels a bit.

"Hey, no cheating!"

"Sorry. Forgot where I was for a minute."

"Now you've got rice in your dimple. That'll look great in the rushes." She says leaning in and reaching toward his face with a napkin. He intercepts her hand with his own and pulls her even closer. They kiss.

With his free hand he reaches up and slides the screen in front of the table.


Chapter Nine
-- by Aileen Mackintosh --

After a discrete interval we see Cary and Maggie, by now at the coffee stage of their meal.

"Maggie my dear um.... well.... I was um" Cary's voice stutters and cracks slightly at this point and he clears his throat and continues "as you are the most wonderful person in the world I was wondering..." he tails off with a pleading look in his eyes that says "Help me out please"

"Of course I will Cary" she answers and his face lights up with an huge smile, "Once I saw you dressed in that ridiculous outfit at the studio I knew right then, but when I saw you in that restaurant with Brooksie and her mother.... well you know" she shrugs.

"Maggie darling" he says with an adoring look, then his expression becomes serious, "talking of that we are going to have to do something about our mutual problem."

"I know, and some problem it is too! How do you put off a gold digger, a battleaxe and Hedda Hopper?" Maggie says as they prepare to leave the restaurant.

"S-sounds like a movie title to me!" Cary splutters as he has a fit of the giggles

"Hey, wait hang on you've given me an idea" she exclaims. "Hmmm let me see..."

Several minutes later we see them in Cary's car heading toward the studio buildings, he is miles away thinking of the moment when they will be alone with nobody to disturb them. He smiles. Suddenly he is aware that she is waving her hands in front of his face.

"Cary. Hello. Were nearly there. CARY THERE'S THE STUDIO GATES!!!!!!!"

He turns in just in time.

"OK Boss," he says "what now?"

"We need to head for the wardrobe department, I have a friend there who will help us. But first I shall have to visit props to see if they have a stick or something to help me hobble round"

Eventually they arrive at the wardrobe department.

"Maggie how lovely to see you!" a voice calls

"Hello Terry let me introduce a friend of mine."

"She's really called Teresa, but everyone calls her Terry," she adds at his puzzled expression as Terry appears.

"Terry we need your help." She leans forward and starts to explain.


<< Fan Fiction Page | Next Three Chapters >>


www.carygrant.net 1997-2013
web design by Debbie Dunlap - www.debbiedunlap.com