Imagined scenes in Number (my drama background getting the better of me)

DOM: I’m not going to go. Why should I go? We only won Brexit because we faced down our enemies...

BORIS: I know, Dom... But this is different...

DOM: It isn’t different. It’s the deep state elite

SIR MARK: We are the state, Mr Cummings

DOM: You may be. I never was.

SIR MARK: Indeed. Hence our problem today

BORIS: What do I say to all those MPs who have obeyed lockdown? And who didn’t go and visits parents or children?

DOM: Bunch of patsies, the lot of them

SIR MARK: We have two problems. Your account keeps on changing. And it’s part of the Speciall Advisors Code that you abide by the rule of law.

DOM: And where does that get us? Do you think we would have won Brexit by abiding by your petty regulations and rules?

BORIS: Dom... we have to bring this to a conclusion. I need my afternoon nap.

DOM: I’m not going to jump. I’ll only be pushed.

SIR MARK: If that’s the way you prefer it...

DOM: But I can take all you down with me.

BORIS: Dom....

DOM: Look what happened last time I let my eye of the ball. You and Mikey fell out. Robot Theresa got in. I won the referendum. I got you elected with a landslide. I hold all the cards. All the data. Only I understand how to rescue you.

BORIS: So what do you want?

DOM: My ARPA. My Billion Dollar Brain. Only that will rescue our country. Otherwise we’re going to face terminal decline

SIR MARK: You wouldn’t be able to be involved in any official way.

DOM: Then I won’t go. You’ll have to sack me.

BORIS: (Yawns) I really need a rest now... what would it take? An unofficial role? A promise after everything has cooled down, you can come back in office?

DOM: Boris. I know what you’re promises are like. I put them on the side of the bus. I want something credible

BORIS: House of Lords?

DOM: Don’t make me laugh.

SIR MARK: I’m sure we can work out an arrangement

BORIS: Great. I must go. Carrie’s calling from the flat.

DOM: You’ll live to regret this. You’re nothing without me, Boris

BORIS: I’m sure you’re right. Better run...

DOM: Wait just a minute

(Cummings produces a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket)

SIR MARK: What’s that?

BORIS: Looks like the last manifesto...

DOM: No, have a look

(Johnson takes the crumpled paper)

DOM: Remember writing that?

(Johnson goes white. Sir Mark Sedwill takes the paper)

SIR MARK: What’s this? A WhatsApp message?

DOM: No, Signal. Remember writing that, Boris?

BORIS: I can’t say that I do.

DOM: You said it was okay to go to Durham

BORIS: Did I?

DOM: Yes. In black and white

SIR MARK: Green, actually?

DOM: If I go down, so do you.

BORIS: I was feverish. I was unwell. I think Carrie had my mobile

DOM: You’d better take the press conference today and stick by me. Or else.

(FADE TO BLACK)

NB. Any resemblance to any characters.. Purely factional.