mamma mia lines bill

HARRY: I’m glad to get off that boat.

That was nothing. You should try a kayak in the Okavango Swamps.

HARRY: Yes—I read your book ‘A Bloke and a Boat in Botswana’.

Thanks, Harry—I heard I’d sold a copy somewhere.

HARRY: I’m rather impressed. I remember an old hut here—I was dreading bedding down with the goats.

Give me goats before camels. There was this time in the Kalahari, the sun was beating down…

SAM: Donna. Who else? This is something I scribbled on the back of a menu, I had no idea.

How do you know it’s yours?

SAM: Buildings are like babies, you always know your own.

I wouldn’t know about babies. I’ve been living out of a back-pack all my life.

HARRY: The ‘Happy Wanderer’, eh? Do you think the island will inspire some prose?

I hope so. When I got the wedding invite I sold my editor a piece on ‘Childhood Haunts Revisited’.

HARRY: Were you born here?

I was born in the US—but my mother’s Greek. No, the only time I came to Greece was to visit with my Great-Aunt on the mainland—and that was twenty-one years ago.

HARRY: So now you can write about Sam’s Taverna and the tourists will flock.

No. I think the island should remain the secret idyll I’ve always remembered.

SOPHIE: Good afternoon. Can I help you?

Hi. I’m Bill Austin. You have a room for me?

SAM: Twenty-one years? You know, this is beginning to feel like a set-up—hey, Bill—here’s a story for you. Three men—strangers—receive an invitation to a wedding. They are invited to a place they haven’t seen for twenty-one years, by a woman they haven’t seen in twenty-one years… why are they here?

That’s not bad… ok, Harry—spill? What’s torn you away from the Bank of England?

HARRY: Bloody Norah!

Is that a quote?

HARRY: Wow.

I thought you looked familiar. Sophie—Sophia.

SOPHIE: It’s just Sophie.

No, Sophia’s the Greek. I had a Great-Aunt Sophia.

SOPHIE: …oh, you can’t! You’re a secret! I sent the invitations—mom doesn’t know…

But why…?

SOPHIE: I’ll show you all to your rooms now…

Donna!

HARRY: Age cannot wither her…

I was expecting a frumpy little housewife…

GIRLS: Is there a man out there? Someone to hear my prayers?

Can I be nosy? I’m a writer, so it goes with the territory.

SOPHIE: Go on.

How did your Mom get this place? When I knew her she was singing in a night-club on the mainland.

SOPHIE: She was left some money, in a will. We lived with an old lady when I was little—Mom looked after her. Her name was Sophia.

My Great-Aunt Sophia?

SOPHIE: I think it must be.

But… I always heard that money went to… family…

Wait a minute—how old are you?

SOPHIE: Bill—

I had to get some air.

SOPHIE: Why did your Great Aunt leave my mother that money?

I don’t know.

SOPHIE: You do—please tell me.

What has your mother said?

SOPHIE: She won’t talk about the past. She doesn’t understand why I need to know.

You’ve got to talk to her.

SOPHIE: This has got nothing to do with her. All of my life there’s been one big unanswered question and I don’t want any more secrecy.

But Sophie, this hasn’t been my secret—

SOPHIE: Bill… are you my father?

I think so.

SOPHIE: You know what comes next?

Don’t tell me you’ve got a twin sister?

SOPHIE: No… will you give me away tomorrow?

Give you away?

LISA: Sophie—The boys are back!

I’ll find your mother.

SOPHIE: Not tonight—please. Let’s keep this our secret till the wedding.

She’ll go crazy!

SOPHIE: She’ll be relieved! She’ll see us together and she’ll see we’re happy.

All right. I’ll do it.

ROSIE: You should see the one that got away.

This big.

LISA: Drink, Bill?

Thanks, but no thanks. Rosie’s promised me the works.

ROSIE: I have?

You know I always keep your ‘Whole Woman’ cook-book in my back-pack.

The Courtyard is ready for the wedding. ROSIE is putting the final touches to the arrangements. BILL come soon, holding a note from SOPHIE.

Rosie—

ROSIE: Go and wait with the others, till I’ve finished.

I got this note from Sophie. She wanted me to give her away, but now she’s changed her mind. I’m confused. I don’t know where I am—I don’t know who I am. I just came here for a wedding. I’m Sophie’s Dad.

ROSIE: Whoa! You need a conversation with Donna.

Yes, I’ll go tell her now—

ROSIE: You’ll do no such thing! Sophie’s getting married in five minutes! Take a pew—and button it.

Will it be all right for me to be here?

ROSIE: Oh, for God’s sake!

Well to tell you the truth—I was dreading the walk down the aisle. I may come across as an intrepid traveler, I come over all faint at the thought of a wedding.

ROSIE: Tell me about it.

Marriage. Children. Responsibility.

I’m a writer. I made up my mind long ago—I walk a lone path.

ROSIE / BILL: Take a chance on me

Come on, give me a break, will you?

SAM: I agree with Harry—being a third of your Dad is great by me.

Me, too.