Katharine! Oh dear God, Katharine -
what are you doing here?
I can't move. I can't get out.
Why did he bring you?
A surprise, he said.
Poor Geoffrey. He knew. He must
have known all the time. He was
shouting - I love you, Katharine,
I love you so much. Is he badly hurt?
His neck is odd.
Please don't move me. It hurts too much.
We've got to get you out of here.
It hurts too much.
I know, darling, I'm sorry.
Why did you hate me?
Don't you know you drove everybody mad?
You speak so many bloody languages
and you never want to talk.
You're wearing the thimble.
Of course. You idiot. I always wear it.
I've always worn it. I've always loved you.
It's so cold.
I know. I'm sorry. I'll make a fire.
I'll be back.
Don't leave me!
I'm just going to find things for the fire.
Shall we be all right?
Listen to me, Katharine. You've broken
your ankle and I'm going to have to try
and bind it. I think your wrist might be
broken, too - and some ribs, which is
why it's hurting you to breathe.
going to have to walk to El Taj. Given
all the traffic in the desert these days
I should bump into one army or another
before I reach there - or Fenelon-Barnes
and his camel.
And then I'll be back
and we'll be fine, and I'll never leave you.
The fire is lit and he comes over to her, kneels beside her.
Do you promise? I wouldn't want to die
here. I wouldn't want to die in the desert.
I've always had a rather elaborate funeral
in mind, with particular hymns. Very English.
And I know exactly where I
want to be buried. In our garden. Where
I grew up. With a view of the sea. So
promise me you'll come back for you
I promise I'll come back. I promise
I'll never leave you. And there's
plenty of water and food. You
can have a party.
In memory, Love lives forever...
And a good read.
Don't waste it.
Will you bury Geoffrey? I know
I'm sorry, Katharine.
Every night I cut out my heart but
in the morning it was full again.
He's tearing strips from the parachute with his knife. As he starts to
bind her wrist he gets her to talk, trying to distract her from the
Tell me about your garden.
Our Garden, our garden - not so much
the garden, but the copse alongside it,
wild, a secret way plunging down to the
shore and then nothing but water
between you and France. The Devil's
Chimney it was called -
The Devil's Chimney, I don't know why.
Darling. My darling.
THE ENGLISH PATIENT
I stopped at noon and at twilight.
Three days there, I told her, then
three hours back by car. Don't go
anywhere. I'll be back.. ..I'll be back... ..