The Little Drummer Girl

Morning. Morning.

If he has time to play that, he has time to take a rest.

He won't.

Nothing like the English Suites to douse the flames in your head.

No fire analogies, please, Miss Bach.

Rossino.

You know that's bad for them.

It'll cheer them up.

Paddling around all day with no direction.

With no idea what might be coming up from the dark to get them.

And crisps will solve that?

You're not English.

I couldn't come until I was sure you weren't being watched.

That's all right.

I'm a woman, I'm used to men pissing me about.

How is he?

Michel?

Haven't seen anything on the news about a trial,

so where is he being sentenced? Germany or Israel?

He's getting the fairest trial he can.

You need to be calm.

When they make contact, don't seem too eager.

They'll treasure most what they cannot have.

Will they?

Where have you been?

I keep on thinking I'm seeing you.

Everywhere.

And if I'm being totally honest, I think...

I think it's all starting to mess with my head a bit.

We'll take care of all that when it's over.

And you'll be there?

Come on. I need to give you the final part of the fiction.

You're here with Michel on your last morning together.

He woke you early, drove you out.

Fumble in the car first?

Please concentrate, Charlie.

This is just outside Munich.

I do have to get back.

Tonight's the last night of our tour.

For the first time, here, now,

I mention to you my brother, Khalil.

His very existence is a secret I share with only the most loyal few.

For years I worked on the fringes, trying to impress my brother.

I saw him seldom.

A day in Damascus, a few hours in Amman.

One night I was by his side, with my sister, Fatmeh.

We were drinking in his words, his wisdom, his courage.

We were walking down the street when suddenly he stopped...

..and he embraced me.

I could feel his rough face against my own.

He could feel my tears.

He took this from his left pocket...

..and he put it into my hand.

It's heavy.

That was my response.

Khalil was shot in his right wrist as a boy.

He taught himself to fire with one hand

so that he could continue fighting another day.

We must all be strong like him.

Which one shall I hit first?

Your choice.

Wait.

Fire.

Fire.

Well, it would have been a miracle if you hit anything.

What? Shooting with one hand is not easy.

Now kiss it.

What? The gun.

Charlie, you must swear allegiance...

..as I did. It's a bit kinky, don't you think?

Fuck your sarcasm!

Do you know how the Zionists described my country when they first arrived?

"A land without a people, for a people without a land."

Their genocide was already committed.

What happened then in '48 in Deir Yassin?

Their Irgun soldiers made barrel bombs filled with petrol

and rolled them down the hill...

..so they would set fire to our villagers.

They cut off the hands of our men.

They raped our women.

They blinded our children.

And then in '67...

..they did the same thing again...

..and again, and again.

I have something better than a gun.

I'm a spy, not a thief.

I've built in a wiretap.

We'll be listening whenever you're in our reach.

How is that better than a gun? It's company.

You know acting?

Well, the only way I know how to do it properly...

..is to live it.

So it becomes the truth for me.

So, if I love Michel...

..I have to really love him.

Completely.

Put on a white scarf and I will come for you.

Otherwise, we'll be listening on that radio.

I'll remember that when I go to the loo, then.

I wanted to raise a toast to, erm, our little friend here... What?

..by going down the pub and sinking...

Ah, hey! Ah, the pub. ..nigh on 50 pints.

What a novel idea!

What you having? I'm not. What do you mean?

I'm not...I'm not going to come and join you guys.

Not just now. Why not?

I'm just going to head back for a bit. It was our last show! I know!

I'm not... It's just a half-hour walk to the pub, that's all.

Where have you gone, Chaz? Nowhere. I'll catch you later.

Pour me a pint.

I'll, erm, stay with Chaz too, I'll meet you.

All right, then. Borings! For God's sake. Come on.

We bore you, don't we? What?

It's OK. It's fine.

Wherever your head is,

that was the best I've seen you today, Chaz, ever.

I feel like I could be anyone, right now.

"Your spirits are too bold for your years."

Have fun, go catch up with them. OK.

It'll take me ages to find out which one's mine.

They all look the same.

Cool, see you. Bye.

Shit. Shit!

Urgh! Come on!

Erm, they've, they've been here.

They've been here and they've left a note.

Oh, God.

Erm, it says...

It says, "M would be..."

M... "M" must be Michel, right?

"M would be proud of you."

"Michel would be proud of you."

Fuck!

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit."

That is not the reaction we were expecting.

Who are you? Who did you think I was?

Some creep, stalks me after my shows.

Sends his men to watch out for me.

Well, I haven't seen any men.

Why would you have?

I'm charged with the responsibility of representing the giver of this gift legally, Miss Charlie.

That is the vodka you drink with him?

Yes? With grapes in your hotels.

He would be very glad to know that Rosalind was wearing his bracelet today.

And is wearing it still, I think.

Please, if you will come with me. I'm not going anywhere.

He is very angry when his hospitality is refused, Miss Charlie.

I have news of him.

M told me to trust no-one.

Do you know M's real name? Of course.

It ends with an M, in fact.

Can you trust me now?

A gun.

Could be a chair.

Sit over there. See?

You said you had news.

About Michel? Charlie.

So good to finally meet you.

My name is Helga. Helga?

When did you last see him, please?

In Munich. That is where.

Not when. Anton is a lawyer.

Near...nearly three weeks ago.

That was the last time I heard from him.

This does not need to be a long interrogation.

Lie to me again... I'm not lying! I'm not lying!

Three weeks? Yes.

Yeah. I thought you were in love.

"Were"?

Has something happened to him?

He's dead, isn't he? Oh, yes.

Super dead.

We've lost them.

We are sorry.

Judging from your beautiful letters, you will be sorry, too.

The letters are fake, Anton, just like this performance.

Look at her.

Oh, no. A girl died also.

Swedish, really sexy.

How does that make you feel?

Bastards.

Lying Zionist bastards...

Leave it. Zionists?

They're cowards.

They're cowards, all of them.

You said "Zionists" Charlie, "lying". Why?

Well, who else killed him? Killed him? Read the newspaper!

The police say it was an accident.

It's very dangerous to contradict the police, Charlie.

Why would my client drive a car full of explosives when he was a student?

Oh, shut up, will you?

Bloody meter. What's wrong with this country?

Anton!

Charlie. Do you maybe have 50p?

Please?

Thank you.

I knew it.

I knew it! It's to..it... For music!

For music!

Don't you have music in your revolution?