Candle to Water



                         CANDLE TO WATER



                           Written by

                           Nick Green



                                   Shooting draft (05/04/12)




   BLACK

   SUPER

                          `Veracity'

   Then:

                           BROOKE VO
                        (phone filter)
               There's never been anyone like
               you, since you. I love you
               Vaughn. I love you like no-one
               else ever has, or could. I'm not
               going to try to persuade you.
               Just follow your heart. OK?

   FADE IN ON

   1.01 INT. SALOON CAR ­ EVENING

   The car is stuck in rush-hour traffic, which surrounds VAUGHN
   (40), as he wrestles with the hardest decision of his life.

   He speaks into the car mobile phone kit microphone.

                            VAUGHN
               I don't know. I mean I want
               you, I want to be with you.
               You know that. It's just . . .

   He glances at his mobile phone in its car kit dash cradle. The
   display says `OFFICE'. The lights of cars outside illuminate
   the falling snow, which is beginning to settle on the road.

   He waits. No response. No need for one.

                            VAUGHN
               Can you . . . just give me
               twenty four hours ­ OK?

   Beat. The dashboard lights seem swirl around him. Stress.

                           BROOKE OS
                        (phone filter)
               Are you lost? You sound lost.





                            VAUGHN
               Thought I'd try a new way home.
               Beat the traffic, you know.

He looks at the sea of cars around him sardonically.

                           BROOKE OS
                        (phone filter)
               A little girl fell in love with
               a little boy. Still falling
               over here!

Her laughter sounds loud on the car phone speakers.

                            VAUGHN
               OK ­ I'll call you, babe. OK?

Beat. The dashboard lights. Snow. Rush hour. Stress.

His satnav sounds bizarrely loud, suddenly:

                         SATNAV VOICE
               In point two of a mile, keep
               right . . .

                            BROOKE
                   (laughter, phone filter)
               See ­ even she's on my side!
               (beat) I love you Vaughn.
               Once upon a time.

Vaughn takes a deep breath, loathes the traffic outside.

His phone display indicates another incoming call: `Mia'.

                            VAUGHN
               I love you too. I gotta. . .
               I'll call you ­ OK. Bye baby.

                           BROOKE OS
                        (phone filter)
               Another call. Is it her?

                            VAUGHN
                          (hesitant)
               Yes.

                           BROOKE OS
                        (phone filter)
               I guess you better take it.


2|Page
Vaughn looks at the incoming call display message. His finger
hovers between the `accept' or `reject call' buttons.

                            VAUGHN
               I have to go. I'll call you. . .

                           BROOKE OS
                        (phone filter)
               I know. I figured.

                            VAUGHN
               What does that mean? Look you
               know how it is. I'll see you
               very soon. Always ­ OK? Ciao baby.

No response, then her call is killed her end.

Vaughn waits a moment. He takes a deep breath. The world seems
to crowd in on him. He presses the call `accept' button.

                            VAUGHN
               Mia. Hi honey.

                            MIA OS
                        (phone filter)
               Mia? Who's she? It's late.
               Pip wants a goodnight kiss.
               Where are you? Vaughn?

On Vaughn's face as he struggles to find the right words

CUT TO

1.02 INT. SUBURBAN SEMI ­ DAY

Vaughn sits in the conservatory and drinks his morning tea.
His gaze out into the garden is broken by something in the
cup, in the tea, that gets his attention. Troubled and
preoccupied, he frowns as he looks at the tea in the tea cup.

His daughter PIP (8) rushes into the conservatory in her
pyjamas and throws herself on him ­ her beloved, wonderful

                                PIP
               Daddy!

Vaughn catches her and tickles her and laughs with her. But
his indecision darkens his tired eyes with stress.




3|Page
1.03 INT. GARDEN SHED ­ DAY

Vaughn SAWS wood fastened in a workbench vice. The usual
garden shed clutter of garden furnature and bikes around him.

There is a tense, manic regularity to his saw strokes. A
sound, OS, makes him stop sawing:

                              MIA (OS)
               We're off.

                           BROOK VO
               Once upon a time.

Pip says something inaudible outside.

Vaughn goes to the shed door. He doesn't really look outside.

                            VAUGHN
               OK. See you later.

He half waits for a response, but when there isn't one he
returns to the workbench. He re-grips the saw and starts to
saw again, but the saw gets jammed in the wood. Vaughn tries
to saw/free it with increasing desperation and anger until we

CUT TO

1.04 INT. SUBURBAN SEMI ­ DAY

Vaughn pretends to read the paper in the kitchen. The front
door opens. The voices of Mia and Pip approach, OS.

MIA (30s) enters the kitchen with several shopping bags.

She doesn't look at Vaughn.

Vaughn watches in a distracted way.

                             MIA
               Pip - you helping me or what?

Pip's footsteps climb the stairs. A girly grunt, OS.

                             MIA
                   (not looking at Vaughn)
               Any more takers?

As she speaks, SUPER/SUBTITLE the real meaning of her words:

               What the fuck is wrong with you?

4|Page
Vaughn grunts something, then goes to help her; but it's half
hearted. He can barely remember where the cereal goes.

                             MIA
               Wrong time of the month?

Vaughn laughs slightly too loudly. Still no eye contact.
His mind elsewhere, he helps her put the shopping away.

Mia takes a deep breath to control herself.

                             MIA
               Don't worry. Seriously.

SUPER

           I love you with every fibre. To the end.

Vaughn holds a can of soup - all that's left of his dignity.

Mia puts the shopping away in the cupboards and the fridge.

The tension is palpable. Silence strangles them both.

Mia finishes putting things away without looking at him.

The last item goes in the last cupboard. Bags are stored.

A beat. Vaughn's body is wracked by guilty tension.

                              MIA
                    (still no eye contact)
               You out later then darling?

SUPER

                 Don't do this to me - please?

Vaughn hides his torment and indecision as best he can.

                            VAUGHN
               Yeah. Probably. I don't know.

SUPER

                   I don't love you anymore.

                           BROOK VO
               Just follow your heart. OK?

Mia takes the can of soup from him and puts it away.

5|Page
                                 MIA
                            (eventually)
               Fine.

SUPER

                     Do I disgust you that much?

Mia leaves the kitchen without looking at him.

CUT TO

1.05 INT. SUBURBAN SEMI ­ DAY

Vaughn, Mia and Pip sit at the table eating lunch.

                             PIP
               But why not? Daddy said we
               could. Daddy?

Vaughn reacts half-heartedly but lovingly to Pip. Mia pretends
everything is fine: the stiffness of her body and the smile.

                            VAUGHN
               I'm not sure sweetheart.

                           BROOK VO
                     (seductive whisper)
               You promised.

Vaughn looks at Pip's hands. Innocence. The stony road ahead.

                             MIA
               Daddy's not feeling too well,
               darling. I'm sure a swim
               will do us all good.

The lack of eye contact with Vaughn speaks volumes.

                             PIP
               Daddy? Please? Mia said you'd. . .

Mia chastises Pip.

                             MIA
               Mummy. It's mummy! Who's Mia!?

                                 PIP
               Mamma Mia!

Vaughn manages to smile. He wants to throw up.

6|Page
                            VAUGHN
               Sure thing, nitwit. Let's
               give it half an hour to let
               our lunch go down. I'm fine.

SUPER

             Daddy you are a lying piece of shit.

1.06 INT. SUBURBAN SEMI ­ DAY

Mia bustles Pip out of the front door. Pip is in tears.

                             PIP
               But why can't daddy come?

Vaughn stands in the kitchen doorway.

                             MIA
               Come on. Milkshakes later!

There's a crack in Mia's voice that destroys Vaughn.

Mia closes the door after them. He sees their shapes through
the frosted glass of the front door. Ghosts. Departing. Gone.

1.07 INT. SUBURBAN SEMI ­ DAY

Vaughn sits staring unseeing at the TV, which babbles Saturday
afternoon crap. He picks up his mobile. He thumbs through his
text messages. He opens one. It says `Do it. Do it for me. For
us! xxx' He stares at it. He suddenly stands, takes a deep
breath and gets control. A decision makes itself.

1.08 INT. SUBURBAN SEMI PIPS BEDROOM ­ NIGHT

Pip lies in her bed. Scared, she hears her parents' voices
through the wall. Anger and resentment, sadness and shock.

1.09 INT. SUBURBAN SEMI MASTER BEDROOM ­ CONTINUOUS

Wracked with self-loathing, Vaughn stands awkwardly beside the
bed. Mia stares at him, incredulous. Tears blur her eyes.

                             MIA
               I've given you every last atom.

She expresses the giving of herself in an unconditional way.

Vaughn tries to express something ­ anything. He fails.


7|Page
1.10 EXT. / INT. SALOON CAR ­ NIGHT, LATER

Outside the house Vaughn throws an overnight bag onto the back
seat of the car. He gets into the car. He slams the door shut,
grips the steering wheel. The enormity of it is impossible.

He doesn't look up at Pip looking down at him from her bedroom
window. That would break him. Worse, it might change his mind.

He starts the engine.

1.11 EXT. PLAYGROUND ­ DAY

Vaughn sits on a bench and waits. He pulls his coat around him
against the biting cold. He checks his mobile again. Nothing.
The unthinkable crosses his face. Surely not. But then

BROOKE (38) walks across the playground toward him. She sees
him, hurries. It takes him a moment to recognise her. That
troubles him. He smiles at her ­ his first smile in a long
time. Her smile speaks of very real joy after very real pain.

He stands in order to greet her. She tries not to cry, but
it's impossible. She embraces and kisses him passionately.

She looks at him like he's all she ever wanted. He sees
disguised scars on her face. The scars of pain in her eyes.

                            BROOKE
               Vaughn Black. Will you come
               out and play?

She holds him, lays her head against his chest.

                             BROOKE
               Thank you.

She has found her home in him. And he is unsettled.

1.12 INT. CHEAP FLAT ­ DAY

Brooke opens the door of the fridge in the kitchen for Vaughn.

                            BROOKE
               Beer, water or tea? The world's
               your oyster.

Vaughn smiles at her, looks around. It's pretty crummy.

                            VAUGHN
               How long have you been here?

8|Page
                            BROOKE
               Three months, four days, seven
               and a quarter hours.

                            VAUGHN
               White, one sugar. Thank you.

SUPER

              This is going to work. All I want!

She does a little dance for him, bows low.

                            BROOKE
               My lord.

She smiles her love. He accepts it. He wants it ­ all of it.

She puts the kettle on. A beat of silence.

                            BROOKE
               What you did . . . I mean I
               appreciate what you've done
               for me ­ for us. All I can tell
               you is that it will be worth it.
               We're meant to be together, V.
               You've always said that.

His mobile phone bleeps a text message. He ignores it.

                            VAUGHN
               Come on. You don't owe me
               anything. I made a choice.

He grabs her, kisses her. He looks like a man trying to
convince himself that if he ignores it, reality will go away.

Emotion overwhelms her, so she gets busy with the tea. Vaughn
looks around again, and out of the window. A cheap view, too.

                            BROOKE
               I've been waiting to show you.

She smiles again. Taking her cue, he looks at the portrait
photography on the walls in the living room. It's brilliant.

                            VAUGHN
               My God, Brooke. It's . . .

He is lost for words.


9|Page
                            BROOKE
               You want to grab a shower. We
               should go out and celebrate.

She does another little dance of joy.

                            VAUGHN
               You're telling me I stink. Mea
               culpa!

                            BROOKE
               No!

She screams a little, laughs a lot. She buries her nose in his
armpits ­ or tries to. They play-fight and kiss. The kiss
develops into more. She wants him. They are lost in each other
until Vaughn slows them down, pulls back slightly, gently.

                            VAUGHN
               I'll take a shower.

                            BROOKE
               I'll show you. Might even
               watch you. A man in my shower.
               The little boy a little girl fell
               in love with. Once upon a time.

                            VAUGHN
                       (the boy inside)
               He's still in there somewhere.

                            BROOKE
               And now . . .

The kettle boils. It doesn't turn itself off. They hold each
other's eyes. The kettle over boils. The thing between them
builds and builds until she suddenly laughs and turns the
kettle off. He indicates upstairs, and then exits upstairs.

She watches him go. Her excitement is obvious. If she senses
that something is wrong, there is no outward sign of it.

1.13 INSERT

IMAGES: Brooke being attacked by a knife wielding lover;
Brooke curled in a bloody ball, weeping; Brooke the 5 year old
child playing with a 7 year old boy in long lost sunshine.

CUT TO



10 | P a g e
1.14 INT. CHEAP FLAT ­ HALLWAY - NIGHT

Dusting snow off them, Vaughn and Brooke come through the
front door, which Brooke closes behind them. They're drunk,
laughing, and sexual. Snow falling is visible outside.

1.15 LATER INT. CHEAP FLAT ­ BEDROOM - NIGHT

Vaughn and Brooke fall onto her bed. They undress each other.
The momentum builds until knife scars on Brooke's body are
revealed. He sees them. She turns the light off, tries to hide
them. She tries to make light of it but she's ashamed of them.

The momentum of their desire founders, and stops.

                             BROOKE
                          (eventually)
                I'm so sorry.

SUPER

                     Accept me - I beg you.

                             VAUGHN
                         (hushing her)
                Don't be daft. I'm sorry. It's. . .

SUPER

               You're damaged. How can I want you?

                             BROOKE
                You don't need to be. Take
                your time.

SUPER

                  Whatever happens, please. . .

She smiles at him, gets under the duvet. He stands awkwardly
beside the bed a moment, and then gets in beside her. They lie
separately for a moment, and then Vaughn embraces her softly.

She pulls the duvet up to her neck to hide her body totally.

                             VAUGHN
                An accident? You didn't tell me.

SUPER

                     What the hell happened?

11 | P a g e
                            BROOKE
               It's nothing. Really.

SUPER

                          Accept me.

He embraces her, reassures her. But he is troubled.

                            VAUGHN
               All in good time ­ OK?

SUPER

                         Tell me now.

                            BROOKE
               We have forever. Oh my love.

SUPER

                          Accept me.

She kisses him, holds him as if she never wants to let go.

                            BROOKE
               We have forever. Promise?

1.16 INSERT

IMAGE: Brooke being shanked by her jealous ex-lover.

CUT TO

1.17 EXT. SCHOOL ­ DAY

Snow has turned the world into a postcard.

With a kiss and a wave, Mia drops Pip off at primary school.
She looks like she hasn't slept, but manages to be cheerful.

1.18 EXT. QUIET ROAD ­ DAY, LATER

Mia drives then stops the car down an isolated country lane.
Her mask of courage shatters: she begins to weep like a child.

1.19 EXT. CHEAP FLAT ­ EVENING

Vaughn pulls up in his car after work. He gets out. He looks
at the deep tracks his car has made in the WHITE snow. He
looks at the outside of the flat. He hesitates, then goes in.

12 | P a g e
1.20 INT. CHEAP FLAT ­ CONTINUOUS

Vaughn enters. Brooke rushes to him, smothers him in kisses.

They hold each other. For a moment he is free of care.

                                 BROOKE
                    Good day, bad day . . ?

SUPER

                       If this doesn't work . . .

Vaughn struggles to find an answer to such an inane question.

                                 BROOKE
                    Got something for you lover-boy.

SUPER

                           I will do anything.

She steps back, does a `ta-dah!' and gestures towards the

1.21 INT. CHEAP FLAT - KITCHEN

Brooke leads him in by the hand. A new suit, some new shirts,
new business and casual shoes, and some men's accessories lie
on the kitchen table. Dirty crockery lies in the kitchen sink.

He goes to the new gear, handles it, and smiles at her.

                                 VAUGHN
                    Thank you.

SUPER

                    Why didn't you tell me!? Stupid!

                                 BROOKE
                    So now you've got everything
                    you need here. So now . . .

SUPER

               It will be your fault, your responsibility.

He takes her hand, glances back at the unwashed dishes.

                                 VAUGHN
                    Brooke, look. . .

13 | P a g e
SUPER

                          Forgive me.

                            BROOKE
               Brooke? You never call me that.

                              VAUGHN
               My love.

He pulls her too him. She smarts at his strength, so he holds
her gently, nurtures her. They kiss. Their passion builds.

1.22 INT. CHEAP FLAT ­BATHROOM - EVENING, LATER

Vaughn and Brooke shower together. He washes her body gently.

1.23 INT. CHEAP FLAT ­ BEDROOM - EVENING, LATER

Vaughn and Brooke get into bed together. Candlelight
illuminates their naked bodies and throws shadows around them.

They start to make love, but then Vaughn stops.

She is deeply hurt, but puts a brave face on it.

He doesn't know what to do.

                            VAUGHN
               What happened?

                            BROOKE
               What happened?

It's awkward between them: her pain and his change of heart.

                            BROOKE
               What happened?

1.24 INSERT

IMAGE: Brooke being shanked by her jealous ex-lover.

BACK WITH

1.25 INT. CHEAP FLAT ­ BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

Vaughn and Brooke in bed: it should be heaven but its hell.




14 | P a g e
1.26 INT. SUBURBAN SEMI ­ DAY

Vaughn enters the house awkwardly. Mia avoids his eyes.
He's wearing the new clothes Brooke bought him.

                             VAUGHN
                          (eventually)
                Pip's with mum?

SUPER

                       What have I done?

An emotional wreck, Mia nods.

                              VAUGHN
                How is she?

SUPER

               My family is my world. Forgive me.

                              MIA
                Don't start, Vaughn. What kind
                of a fucking stupid question
                is that? How's my daughter
                now that I've walked out on her
                and her mother and run into
                the arms of my childhood
                sweetheart?

Vaughn is clearly shocked that Mia knows what she knows.

                              MIA
                Jesus ­ the false caller IDs on
                your phone. `Office'? I mean
                please. And remember eye contact?
                You should try private browsing ­
                or at least clear your history
                every now and again. For someone
                who's in fucking IT . . . So
                what now? You want some clothes,
                your tool box, the toaster:
                a divorce?

Vaughn doesn't know what to say, how to react.

                              MIA
                Have them all. On the house.

She can't hold it back any longer. She weeps her agony.

15 | P a g e
                             MIA
               Now fuck off, please? It's
               over. You piece of shit . . .

She stumbles at him, pounds him with her fists; but when she
hits him she recoils from the contact with his body.

She wipes her hands of the contact with him.

                             MIA
               What am I supposed to do now,
               bastard: tell me, tell me, tell. . .

She collapses, sobbing uncontrollably.

Vaughn glimpses something through the living room door he
hasn't seen before: a WHITE feather lying on the dresser.

It holds his attention until he exits the front door.

1.27 INT. SALOON CAR ­ EVENING

Vaughn sits in rush-hour traffic. The cars ahead of him are
moving, but he sits static, staring ahead. Car horns blare.

His satnav sounds bizarrely loud, suddenly:

                         SATNAV VOICE
               In point two of a mile, keep
               right . . .

Snow outside. The dashboard lights seem to swirl around him.

1.28 INT. CHEAP FLAT ­ EVENING

Vaughn enters. He puts his brief case down.

                            VAUGHN
               Babe? (nothing, so) Brooke?

Brooke suddenly jumps out from behind the kitchen door.

                            BROOKE
               Boo!

She laughs and runs toward him, but he isn't impressed.

                            BROOKE
               What's wrong?



16 | P a g e
                                   VAUGHN
                      Nothing.

SUPER

               What d'you think? Were you always this stupid?

                                   BROOKE
                      Blimey ­ someone lost their
                      sense of humour.

Vaughn frowns deeply, hides his irritation. The TV babbles, OS

                                   BROOKE
                      I thought you'd be pleased for
                      me. I got a job!

He's rained on her parade, and now he feels like crap.

                                   VAUGHN
                      That's brilliant. When?

SUPER

                           I don't care anymore.

                                   BROOKE
                      Start on Monday. It'll be good
                      for us ­ we can be DINKYs.

SUPER

                        I beg you with all my life.

                                   VAUGHN
                      It's great ­ really.

SUPER

                       Forgive me ­ I want only that.

                                   BROOKE
                      You're hungry. Thirsty? Let
                      me get you a drink. Drink for
                      my king. Then maybe . . .

She twirls a seductive finger around his tie. They kiss.




17 | P a g e
1.29 INT. CHEAP FLAT ­ BEDROOM - EVENING, LATER

Vaughn and Brooke begin to make love in bed. It's better this
time: their passion builds; it's going to be OK. But then

He begins to falter and she begins to cry. Her cry becomes a

SCREAM

Vaughn pulls back from her, looks at her. Her terror.

                            VAUGHN
               Tell me! For God sake . . .

She suddenly seems alone, naked on the bed. She tries one last
time: she goes to him, touches him; but he can't respond.

He realises. And now her dream is over.

                            VAUGHN
               Who did this to you?

                            BROOKE
               Does it matter? He was jealous.
               He's everything you're not.
               Vaughn? You love me. Baby?
               You don't need to fear him.
               They're just scars. Oh God, no.
               Vaughn? They're just scars
               for God sake. This is my body!

Vaughn searches for words, but he finds only his reality.

Reaching critical emotional mass, she gets up quickly, puts
the overhead light on. It seems stark and horribly bright.

She weeps, reveals her damaged knife SCARRED body to him.

                            BROOKE
               Can you see properly? Can you?
               (of her scars) Do you like them?

1.30 INSERT

IMAGE: Brooke being shanked by her jealous ex-lover.

BACK WITH

1.31 INT. CHEAP FLAT ­ BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

Vaughn suddenly feels as vulnerable as she looks.

18 | P a g e
                            VAUGHN
                        (incredulous)
               Why didn't you tell me?

                            BROOKE
               Smart question Vaughn, smart.

He looks at her. He sees suicide in her eyes.

She suddenly lunges for him, starts to punch him. To Vaughn
this now has the quality of a nightmare. This is impossible.

                            BROOKE
               Love me.

They struggle. She's no match for him, but he is half hearted.

                            BROOKE
               Love me!

He takes it. She smashes at him. His nose and mouth bleed.

                            BROOKE
               Love me, bastard! COWARD!

She SCREAMS like a wild animal, goes to punch him again; but
Vaughn SNAPS: he lashes out at her, sends her flying
backwards. She lands badly, gasping with pain and shock.

Vaughn's bloody mouth begins to form the word `sorry' again.

                            BROOKE
               It doesn't matter. (long beat)
               Go back to her. Go back to mama.
               It's where you belong.

Vaughn stands there panting, bleeding; wishing he could cry.

                            BROOKE
               Go forever. Now.

On Vaughn: naked, bleeding and alone, as he tries to react we

CUT TO BLACK




19 | P a g e
                             Story #2

BLACK

SUPER
                         `Stanislavski'

FADE IN ON

2.32 INT. STORAGE DEPOT ­ DAY

BLACK, OVER-POLISHED SHOES

The shoes SQUEAK as the man wearing them walks down a lino
floor. These are the kind of shoes worn by a man who works
long hours on his feet. It becomes clear that the man has a
very slight limp. He walks down a strip-lit corridor in

2.33 INT. STORAGE DEPOT ­ DAY

A LONG, BLEAK CORRIDOR

The man who wears the shoes is MO (30s) ­ a very well-built,
dark haired guy with a sensitive yet watchful and angry face.

Mo is a security guard; he wears security guard paraphernalia
on his uniform belt: keys, torch, walkie-talkie etc.

He stops and listens, so the slightly uneven SQUEAKING stops.

He hears distant voices in the

2.34 INT. MAIN WAREHOUSE - DAY

This place is huge. It's also soulless and grim. Row upon row
of gated storage areas are crammed with peoples' belongings.

Between these rows walks CY (50s) with female admin staffer
DOLORES (40s). Cy has a dishevelled look of a man who has
stopped searching for his dreams. Self-dissatisfaction, hatred
even, haunts his tired face. He doesn't want to be here.

                           DOLORES
               . . .though normally there's
               a charge for that.

                              CY
               Of course there is.

They approach a storage area numbered 110. Dolores reaches for
a skeleton key attached to her belt by a security chain.

20 | P a g e
                             DOLORES
               Here we go.

Dolores unlocks the storage area. She pushes the door open.

                           DOLORES
               There you go.

Cy enters the storage area. He starts rummaging through boxes.

A door opens and closes in the distance.

Dolores' mobile rings. She answers it.

                            DOLORES
                       (into the phone)
               Well I can't be two places at
               once, now can I. (then) Sure.
               (then) Mo's around somewhere.
               No. (then) I will. (then) OK.

She ends the phone call, looks OS.

                           DOLORES
               Here he is now. (calls out) Mo?

A slightly uneven SQUEAK approaches.

Mo rounds a corner at the end of a storage row.

                           DOLORES
               Mo? Mo ­ could you please just
               see Mister Caudwell out? He
               just needs to pick something up.

There is an unusually long delay before Mo responds.

Mo approaches, and stops when he reaches DOLORES.

                                MO
               No sweat Doll.

                           DOLORES
               Dolores! How many more times?

But she's smiling. There's familiarity between them. When Mo
smiles, however, the smile seems out of place on his face.

                              MO
               No worries Doll.


21 | P a g e
Mo laughs. A strange laugh. She throws him an angry face.

                           DOLORES
               Sorry mister Caudwell. Mo here
               will see you out. I have to . . .

She heads off, pulling one last face at Mo as she goes.

                              CY
               OK (indifferent) thanks.

Cy's voice is barely audible as he rummages in boxes.

Mo looks in at him. He gets a text, checks it, and responds.

With a `ha!', Cy pulls something out of a box. Mo waits. As he
does so, he shifts his weight from his right foot to his left.

Cy emerges from the storage area looking flushed with effort.

                              CY
               Thanks.

                              MO
               No sweat.

Mo goes to lock storage area 110. Cy looks at the object he
has retrieved: an old VHS video cassette. Mo sees it.

                              MO
               Wow ­ that's an old VHS isn't it?

                              CY
               It is indeed. Are we done?

Cy speaks to him grudgingly. He wants to get the hell out.

The door locked, Mo starts to walk away from 110 with Cy.

                              MO
               Ain't seen one of those for
               years. Never used one.

                              CY
               Really.

Cy walks way ahead of Mo. The hell out of here.

                              MO
               Wait ­ I gotta sign you out man.
               Paperwork. You got the forms?

22 | P a g e
                              CY
               Man? What the hell happened
               to `sir'?

His disgust is obvious in the way he avoids looking at Mo.

                              MO
               Sir? You're a knight? The
               queen dub you or something?
               If I don't call you sir that
               doesn't mean I don't respect.
               It just means I don't call you sir.

                              CY
               Fine. It doesn't really matter.
               Sorry.

Cy walks faster but Mo knows he doesn't know where he's going.

Mo looks more closely at him.

                              MO
               Wait ­ you're that director.

                              CY
               Can we please just finish up
               and go. I'm late.

                              MO
               Seriously ­ I know you. I'm an
               actor. We met once. Maybe . . .

Cy keeps walking but doesn't know where he's going.

                              CY
               You've got the wrong man.

                              MO
               No seriously. We met at an
               audition. You auditioned me.

Cy just speeds up.

                              MO
               You must remember. I'm not doing
               this forever. Got plans to do
               things. Get my CV together. You
               must remember.

                              CY
               Like I said . . .

23 | P a g e
Cy won't slow down, so Mo puts a hand on his shoulder.

                              CY
               The fuck do you think you're
               doing?

                              MO
               Take it easy. I'm only asking.

Cy looks at him for the first time. Mo sees his bitterness.

Cy turns away to carry on walking. He's lost.

                              CY
               How the hell do we . . .

He looks around. Left or right?

Mo gets his mobile out. He goes to photograph Cy.

                              CY
               What the hell are you doing?

                              MO
               Come on man ­ just a j-peg to
               let my buddies know I saw you.
               I photograph everything. Got
               gigs of shit at home. But you ­
               you're the man who directed. . .

Cy turns away, irritated. He looks around ­ up at the roof.

                              CY
               A sign or two might help.

                              MO
               Exit? It's cool. Listen we
               won't do the (indicates his
               phone, which he puts away). . .
               But slow down: you must
               remember me. You're ­ that's it:
               name begins with C. . .

                              CY
               OK. What the fuck is the matter
               with all this? I've got my thing,
               now I just want to get out of
               here. Let's sign the papers ­
               and I can't quite believe there
               are papers ­ and I'm done. Clear?


24 | P a g e
They stand at a junction between rows. Left or right?

                              MO
               Clear. So what's on the (the
               VHS) video?

Mo laughs a little at the whole idea of a VHS.

                              CY
               Jesus. Mind my business is on
               the video. Is that all right?

                              MO
               It's fine, bro; but hostility
               ain't working. Not in here.

Cy looks around. It seems like a labyrinth.

Mo clicks his fingers, remembering suddenly:

                              MO
               It was that show - that play you
               were directing. Silver something.
               Shit. Four, five years back.
               Come on, man ­ you must remember.

                              CY
               OK. I remember. So can we go now?

                              MO
               Sure, but look: what's with all
               the storage. You moving house
               or something?

                              CY
               Something like that. Look: show
               me the way out of here now, man,
               or I'll have to speak to your
               supervisor. What was her name?
               Dorothy?

                              MO
               Shit no: Doll's just admin.
               Works up in the box.

Mo looks up and waves to a CCTV camera.

                              MO
               Dolls in the doll house, doing
               doll things. Bless.


25 | P a g e
                              CY
               Out. Now.

Mo's attitude changes noticeably in response to this.

                              MO
               Whoa. Relax Mister C. Out is
               way. OK?

Mo leads Cy off. Cy is suddenly more wary of him.

They walk in silence a moment. The uneven squeak.

                              MO
               Look I don't want you to mind
               me talking to you and all. I'm
               just being friendly: one pro
               to another. (beat) Come on man.
               Don't go believing this is
               my shit, because it ain't.
               Acting's my shit just like
               directing's yours. I was born
               to it ­ know what I mean?
               I knew you'd remember. Cy ­
               that's it! Cy. Mo.

He offers his hand to shake. Cy takes it very grudgingly. They
shake hands. Cy fully takes in Mo's physical size and power.

                              MO
               Well that's better. No need
               for hostility between pros.

Mo lets go of Cy's hand. Cy is relieved. They walk on.

                              CY
                  (looking around for exit)
               How hard can this be?

                              MO
                    (as Cy speaks, above)
               Pros or ho's ­ know what I'm
               saying.

Mo laughs. It's a strange sound.

                              MO
               What's on the video? None of
               my biz, I know; but I'm curious.



26 | P a g e
                              CY
               If you must know, it's a show-
               reel. An old one.

                              MO
               Yup. Got the old bit. (looks
               at the VHS. Old) Wow. (laughs)
               Ain't you got one online?
               Mine's online.

They round a corner. Cy twigs they're back where they started.

                              CY
               Right. Get us the fuck out of
               here or I'm going to . . .

Cy reaches for his mobile phone. He goes to dial, but Mo

SMASHES

it out of his hand. It hits the floor and breaks.

2.35 EXT. STORAGE DEPOT ­ DAY, SAME TIME

People coming and going and cars and lorries and the city
skyline. Nothing out of the ordinary. The way things are.

2.36 INT. STORAGE DEPOT ­ DAY, SAME TIME

Cy stares at his smashed phone, at Mo. Mo's face is a mask.

The mask eventually moves. Confusion hits Mo's face. It's as
if another part of him did that, a part he can't control.

                              MO
               Look sorry about that dude, but
               you need to let me know. That's
               my simple question: what happened.

Panic starts to show itself in Cy's face. Deep down.

                                CY
               What happened?

                              MO
               The audition. I didn't get the
               job.

Mo shifts his weight from his right foot to his left.

Cy glances around, at his smashed phone on the floor.

27 | P a g e
He looks up, sees CCTV cameras. He stoops down to pick up the
parts of his broken phone. He finds the SIM card, pockets it.

There's something pathetic about the way he stoops.

                              MO
                         (eventually)
               Seriously. The Silver thing.

Cy stands, meets Mo's gaze full on for the first time, really.

                              CY
               Look I don't know. Actors ­
               we would have seen dozens. I
               mean it was a long time ago.
               I don't know what you mean
               `what happened'.

Mo just looks at him. Unsettling.

                              CY
               If you didn't get it, you didn't
               get it. It's the - (nervous laugh)
               - it's the way of the world, no?

Mo just looks at him. A door opens and closes somewhere.

                              CY
               This is ridiculous.

Cy sets off on his own walking again. He's had enough.

                              MO
               I know how good you are.

Cy stops, turns. What?

                              MO
               I know your true potential.
               I know your talent doesn't
               belong packed up in here. Your
               greatness. And you've failed.

Cy swallows air.

                              CY
               What are you doing?

                              MO
               You don't think I know how you
                            (more)

28 | P a g e
                           (cont'd)
               feel. I feel it. In here. I
               feel failure in here every day
               and every fourth Sunday. I feel
               like brilliance left to rot,
               too. That's how you feel ­ no?
               You feel it when it wakes you
               to tap on your shoulder and
               say `this is what you could
               have been, this is what you are'
               Storage boxes? What happened?

                              CY
                          (shocked)
               What the fuck business is it . . .
               If I held an audition you failed
               four or five years ago I'm sorry.
               If you're working in here not
               up in lights, I'm sorry.

                              MO
               You're sorry for yourself.
               That's in your face.

Cy pulls himself together.

                              CY
               This is fucking absurd. (of
               his broken phone) Criminal
               damage. Threatening behaviour.

Cy starts off walking again. Endless rows. Junctions.

                              MO
               Cy ­ we're done here, seriously.
               Then I'll sign you out. You can
               ask about the mobile phone you
               dropped; but I doubt you can
               claim it on us. Just tell me
               why you're all stored up in here.
               Then . . .

He gestures then they're out of here.

                              CY
               Mo, isn't it? What does that
               mean ­ `Mo'? In any event I can
               promise you repercussions. I
               don't care what you think of me.
               I won't be treated like this.


29 | P a g e
Beat.

                              MO
               Brave Mister Caudwell. Genius.
               Solid citizen I don't think. Just
               need to know what you're doing.
               Then that's the end of it all.

Beat.

                              CY
               My landlord asked me to move out.

                              MO
               Couldn't pay your rent. Why
               don't you just say that.
               I couldn't pay my rent, Mo.
               That's fine. It's called la
               crunch du credit. And here we are.

Cy swallows, waits, looks for CCTV cameras.

Mo shifts his weight from his right foot to his left. In that
single moment Cy knows he's in a situation he can't control.

                              MO
               We're almost, nearly, seriously
               out of here, Mister Caudwell.

Some strip-lights turn off way down the warehouse.

                              MO
               On timers ­ saves power. You
               must know. Auto-ma-tic.

Cy glances at his watch.

                              MO
               Time to go home, Cy. My only
               ask is this. And you don't
               have to say yes, say anything.
               All I ask is we do it again.

Cy looks at him. Do what again?

                              MO
                       (strange laugh)
               I know. I know it sounds strange.
               Bit silly even. But if you just
               let me run the thing again,
               this time I'll nail it ­ swear.

30 | P a g e
More strip lights turn themselves out. Darkness builds.

                              MO
                  (of the VHS in Cy's hand)
               I mean. On a fucking VHS video
               cassette. Where's Noah when you
               need him?

He laughs. It sounds bizarre in the infinity of the depot.
Mo's suddenly killing himself laughing. Crying with it.

Cy starts to RUN.

Lightning fast, Mo intercepts him, grabs him, pulls him down.

                              MO
               Let's run this again from the
               top, Cy.

                              CY
               You'll go down for this. I
               absolutely swear. I'll report
               this to the police, your
               superiors. This is fucking . . .

Mo HITS him. Not a killer blow, but enough to shut him up.

2.37 EXT. STORAGE DEPOT ­ DAY, SAME TIME

People coming and going and cars and lorries and the city
skyline. Nothing out of the ordinary. The way things are.

2.38 INT. STORAGE DEPOT ­ DAY, SAME TIME

Mo leads/drags Cy towards a half empty storage area ­ 222.

Holding Cy, Mo unlocks 222 and pushes Cy inside.

Mo locks the door behind them.

It's dark, and to Cy feels like a cage.

                              CY
               You think you can actually
               DO THIS?! What the fuck. . .

Cy screams `Help'. No response.

Mo looks around. He pulls up a box on one side, and sets an
old chair opposite it on the other side of the caged area.


31 | P a g e
Cy throws himself at the door, heaves at it.

                              CY
               What the fuck, sunshine. Equity
               subscriptions lapsing are they?

                              MO
               Cy, seriously, man who directed
               nothing: let's just get this
               right. Then we can get on
               with things. You can go back
               your self-loathing and I
               can continue my rounds.

                              CY
               What!? Screw you. (loud, to
               anyone again for help) FUCK YOU!

Mo smashes his fist into Cy's face.

                              CY
               What the fuck is the matter
               with you? Jesus Christ!

                              MO
               Jesus not in here, bro. Christ
               a nipple sucked by mugs. One
               born every minute, tick tock.

Mo flicks his keys around in circles. Shock grips Cy's throat.

                              MO
               OK. So what's the brief?

                              CY
               What?

                              MO
               What's the scenario? Set the
               scene for me. Point me in the
               right direction. Even Brando
               needed goalposts.

Cy looks around for escape. A phone rings, somewhere OS.

                              CY
               Help. HELP!

The phone stops ringing. A silent vastness of industrial dark.



32 | P a g e
                              MO
               No sweat, Doll. Just relax.
               This place is damn big. And
               you're talking to the big expert
               here. (shows Cy his shoes) Gotta
               do a circuit every hour. (beat)
               We gonna just do this thing,
               then it's home free. OK? Relax.

Cy tries to slow his breathing down, get a grip.

                              MO
               That's it old fella. Get sorted
               out. In and out. Let it all
               be cool.

Cy's breathing in the dark. Mo's keys. No way out.

                              CY
               You'll be missed.

He jerks his head. He means the office ­ colleagues.

                              MO
               Well not really Mister De Mille.
               It's just me and Doll today.
               Cutbacks. Don't ya love them?

Cy tries the door again, but it's half-hearted.

                              MO
               Set me straight, mister director!

Mo stands, suddenly, and comes over to Cy quickly. He grabs
him by the hair and forces him to sit down on the old chair.

                              MO
               The director's chair.

                              CY
               What the fuck do you want?

                              MO
               You know what I want. Just like
               you: another chance. Audition
               me again, you fucking VHS crumb.
               Give me my brief. Motivation,
               reality ­ the whole bit. Go.

Mo sits down opposite Cy on the box. He waits.


33 | P a g e
Cy stares at him. This is insane. But he has no choice.

                              CY
               Do what you want, wanker.

Mo immediately gets up, starts beating him to pulp.

2.39 INT. THE WAREHOUSE - DAY

Row after row of caged storage areas. Industrial vastness.

No hint of violence. No sign of anything wrong.

2.40 INT. THE BOX - DAY

This is where Mo should be: his security vantage point. A
crappy chair, a crappy desk, and CCTV monitors staring.

2.41 INT. STORAGE DEPOT ­ AREA 222 - DAY

His hands shaking and panting from the exertion, Mo
photographs Cy with his phone. Cy is beaten to a pulp.

                              CY
               You'll do time. Fucking acting.
               You'll go down. I'll see to it.
               Think you can fucking do this.

Mo applies lipstick, mascara and powder to his face. Lovely.

Then Mo sits down. Calm. Audition time.

Cy almost sobs. He spits blood.

                              MO
               Again. The scenario, please Cy.
               Who am I? What do I want?

                              CY
               OK crackerjack. Let's play.
               You're a fucked up wannabe
               actor who never was and never
               will be who works as a security
               guard in a domestic storage depot.
               Like most people you can't
               handle rejection, but I mean
               you really can't handle it ­
               really I mean. It's just . . .

Lightning fast, Mo is on him, beating him shitless.


34 | P a g e
2.42 INT. THE WAREHOUSE - DAY

Dolores hums Gladys Knight and The Pips as she walks down a
cheaply carpeted corridor in the admin area of the building.

2.43 INT. STORAGE DEPOT ­ AREA 222 - DAY

Cy collapses under the onslaught of Mo's fists. Mo grimaces at
his damaged knuckles. He hauls Cy back onto the box.

                              MO
               Good dog. Now. . .

He indicates his readiness again, and waits.

                              MO
               That wasn't the character I read
               for, the last one I mean. My
               agent told me a soccer player
               who is afraid to tell his team-
               mates of his homosexuality.
               He turns to his manager for
               help, for answers to his
               dilemma; but in the face of
               this, of this outrage, the
               manager who has been like a
               surrogate father to him for
               years now turns against him,
               disgusted that the boy he
               believed in turned out to
               be a lamentable sausage jockey.
               Am I right?

Cy is too smashed and bloody and ruined to do more than grunt.
But something catches his eye; in the filthy gloom he sees a
WHITE feather lying on the ground in the corner of 222.

                              MO
               I'm right, man. That was the
               scenario wasn't it. The Silver
               thing I auditioned for that
               you turned me down for. Wrong.
               Ignored me for. Like the loser
               I was. Wrong. The winner is
               here. In front of you. So. . .

He smiles and waits for Cy to look at him to audition him.

                              MO
               Make like a camera.


35 | P a g e
At first Cy doesn't understand, but then he slowly,
agonisingly raises his hands up and mimes rolling a camera.

                                MO
               Noises.

It's hard for Cy to make the sound of a camera rolling.

2.44 INT. THE WAREHOUSE - DAY

Dolores sits down at her desk. Gladys Knight and The Pips.

2.45 INT. STORAGE DEPOT ­ AREA 222 - DAY

Cy mimes cranking a camera and makes camera noises. He glances
over to where the white feather was but now he can't see it.

                              MO
               Without a script this time,
               note. Ad-libbing, free wheeling
               improvisazione, herr director!

Mo looks into the `camera' and lives the role he's playing.

                              MO
                        (in character)
               All my life. Imagine living
               a lie ­ forever. Not just the
               lies everybody lives day to
               day to get by, play the game;
               but one big lie that stretches
               from beginning to end: a truth
               so hideous that it could be
               called ordinary. A verity of
               the genes, of psychology.
               And then imagine the one
               person the liar could turn to
               turning away, so that the liar
               was left with nothing but the
               lie. Imagine exploding with
               the desire to be what you
               are, to be real, and to be
               accepted for what you are,
               perhaps even loved. Not loved
               with money for playing games,
               but loved with respect for
               having the strength to stand
               apart. Imagine that. But the
               works of the imagination must
               cede to that we call reality.
                            (more)

36 | P a g e
                              (cont'd)
                  And here we are, you choosing
                  the side of the mob and me
                  left outside in the cold. Well
                  I've got news for you, turncoat:
                  I don't fucking care. I've got
                  the future. TTFN, blood. TT forever.

Mo ends the performance in tears. It's brilliant.

Cy continues to crank the `camera' and make camera noises.
Eventually Mo gets up and stops him with uncommon gentleness.

                                 MO
                  Cy. Director. Really.

He crouches down beside Cy, smooths his hair.

                                 MO
                  So, how was I? How was it?

It's agony, but eventually Cy manages to speak.

                                 CY
                  You did it. You got the job.

Mo stands, smiles, basking in his moment of glory.

This is his prize. This is his moment. But his face darkens.

                                MO
                  LIAR!

Mo starts to beat Cy gain, but this time he kicks him too. He
goes berserk, throwing Cy around like a rag doll, pulping him.

2.46 INT. THE BOX - DAY

Dolores enters.

                              DOLORES
                  Cuppa, Mo? Mo?

The room is empty. She approaches Mo's desk. She doesn't even
glance at the bottle of prescription pills, on which the word
`suppression' is just visible. She glances at the CCTV
screens. Nothing. She presses a button, bringing up the
display from another CCTV. She sees the grainy, monochrome
image of Cy's pulped face being smashed against the bars of
222. As she gasps in horrified reaction and grabs the phone


37 | P a g e
CUT TO

2.47 EXT. STORAGE DEPOT ­ DAY, SAME TIME

People coming and going and cars and lorries and the city
skyline. Nothing out of the ordinary. The way things are.

Very slowly, gradually, we

FADE TO BLACK




38 | P a g e
                           Story #3

BLACK

SUPER
                        `Crackerjack'

3.48 EXT. LONDON E3 - EVENING

Footsteps and breathing: the SOUNDS of a young man running for
his life. The staccato pounding of his feet becomes a mantra
that builds until it develops a life of its own, and a surreal
edge. It becomes a ghostly, dreamlike sound ­ evil perhaps.

The running footsteps suddenly stop. The breathing continues.

                           JADEN VO
                      (between breaths)
               Aight ­ am done runnin'.
               Do what ya gotta do.

Beat, then

FADE IN ON

3.49 INT. COUNCIL HOUSE ­ EVENING

AUSTEN (12) plays Skyrim on a brand new Mac PowerBook. The hi-
tech, futuristic sheen of the Apple is utterly at odds with
the room Austen is in: money seems to be in short supply here.

Austen is a cut and paste hoodie: a white boy going nowhere.

JADEN (18, white) enters. Lean and strong, Jaden is savvy ­
but drugs have left their mark on his face and in his eyes.

                            JADEN
               What the fuck, my fam . . .

He grabs the Mac from Austen. They push and pull for it.

                            AUSTEN
               No way! Fuck off now, brah!

Jaden whacks Austen around the head ­ light, but hard enough
to break his grip. Jaden puts the computer to one side; the
way he handles it suggests that replacing it would be a synch.

Austen attacks him, but Jaden restrains him.



39 | P a g e
                            JADEN
               You got homework. Do the work.

                            AUSTEN
               Fuck that. Gimme . . !

Austen makes for the Mac again, but Jaden restrains him.

They fight a moment, but it's futile: Austen pulls back,
humiliated and outraged. He kisses his teeth and birds.

                            JADEN
               Don't be doin' that fam. It's
               all wrong. You ain't black yet.

                            AUSTEN
               Yeah? Well ain't you my brah.

                            JADEN
               I am your brah. No force gonna
               make me otherwise. Homework.

Austen switches the TV on, turns it up LOUD.

                            AUSTEN
               Fuck the homework. Fuck school. . .

                            JADEN
               Fuck ya future. Smart.

Jaden switches the TV off. Austen squares up to him. A beat
between him, then Austen backs down: Jaden is way too big.

                            AUSTEN
               Yeah well.

                            JADEN
               Yeah well. It all goes on the
               (taps his head) tab, right. Save
               it up for a rainy one. Then I
               get mine, right? Well I got
               mine, brah, an' you don't never
               want it ­ swear.

Austen storms out of the room.

                            AUSTEN
               Gonna get my own, white boy. See.

                            JADEN
               Home fuckin' work. Now!

40 | P a g e
Austen is now out of the room in the hallway beyond.

                          AUSTEN OS
               You ain't my dad, fam. My dad
               ain't my dad.

The sound of the front door opening and slamming shut, OS.

Jaden curses, thinks. Jaden is always thinking.

He exits suddenly.

CUT TO

3.50 EXT. LONDON E3 ­ EVENING

Hood up, Jaden walks fast. It's dark already, and cold.

Jaden speeds up. He feels the reassuring bulge in his belt at
the base of his spine. He does this often, by habit.

He gets a text. He checks the message. Doesn't reply.

A police car cruises. Jaden doesn't react to it, but he does
so in a way that suggests that this is a measured response.

He grabs his phone, hits some keys. Someone picks up.

                             JADEN
                       (into his phone)
               Where you at fam? Nah. Nah. My
               brah ­ comin' atcha somewhere
               near? Yeah. See him? When?
               Owe ya back, boy. Easy now.

He kills the call, stows his mobile.

A car slows near him and stops at traffic lights. Jaden's
attention is drawn by a WHITE feather on the back window
shelf. A shadow crosses Jaden's face. The car pulls away.

He approaches a group of young male hoodies smoking and
texting outside a corner store. They greet with touched fists.

Jaden talks with a few of them, and then walks on. It's clear
that he has their respect, though they show it very subtly.

3.51 EXT. NEAR-BY

Cool and calm, Austen pockets a wad of cash. The youth he's
with stuffs something in his jacket pocket. They touch fists.

41 | P a g e
Austen goes on his way. He feels like a proper man. He walks.

He sees Jaden way ahead. Jaden sees him, starts running.

Austen runs. The streets blur around him into a narrative of
his life: the urban landscape dancing to the beat of his feet.

Runs, runs, runs

Jaden and Austen

They sprint the streets, the alleys, the music, and then

Jaden catches him and

GRABS HIM

ON Austen's snarl, FREEZE FRAME and

3.52 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ EVENING

In the kitchen-diner: Jaden, Austen and their dad: PAUL (50s).

Paul says a prayer before they eat their corner shop meal.

Jaden's hands are together in respect for Paul. Austen
deliberately pays no attention to the ritual at all.

                             PAUL
               . . . for this gift of daily
               bread we thank thee oh Lord. . .

Jaden throws Austen a look. Mean and fierce. And now suddenly
we see what he's capable of. Fear overcomes Austen's
arrogance. He puts his hands together and closes his eyes.

                             PAUL
               . . . and for the gift of these
               fine sons I thank thee oh Lord. . .

The crucifix on the wall. Christ's tormented face in the cheap
shadows of this dull, crappy kitchen. It's all Paul has.

                             PAUL
               . . . beseech thee to look down
               on them and protect them with
               thy everlasting mercy . . .

Seeing Jaden's eyes now closed in prayer for Pauls' sake

Austen can't resist feeling the wad of new cash in his pocket.

42 | P a g e
                             PAUL
               Thanks be to God. Amen.

The boys join him in `Amen' ­ Jaden properly; Austen barely.

They begin to eat their corner shop meal.

Austen sees a shadow cross Jaden's face as Jaden remembers

3.53 INT. E3 HOUSE ­ NIGHT

In washed-out, high grain:

Jaden necks and smooches with a black girl called LYCIA.

Around them the party pops: drugs and big bass and wannabe
cool young kids getting into each other or off on each other.

Lycia smiles and laughs and love the attention, but

A young black guy ­ J.C. ­ looks death at her, his girl, then
at Jaden, who meets the challenge of the alpha competition.

Jaden feels the bulge in his belt at the base of his spine.

3.54 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ EVENING, LATER

The meal over, Jaden does the dishes. Paul sits at the table.

Austen playing Skyrim in the next room is audible.

Paul breaks down in a fit of coughing.

Christ watches on.

                              JADEN
               Fuck.

Jaden suddenly leaves the sink and goes into the

3.55 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING

Jaden grabs the Mac off Austen again. This time Austen cowers.

3.56 INT. KITCHEN - EVENING

Paul lights a cigarette. A moment's pleasure. He slips into
what might be a reverie, or just exhaustion. ON PAUL, hearing
this as Paul might - given his dislocated state of mind:



43 | P a g e
                           JADEN OS
                           (angry)
               Get with the fuckin' homework,
               swear . . . Told ya before get on
               with it . . . (calmer) One life,
               one chance, my fam . . . I help ya,
               no sweat . . . (angry again)
               Just get with it, ya little . . .

The sound of a punch, perhaps.

Paul flinches. He looks to Christ. Christ is tormented.

3.57 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ EVENING, LATER

Jaden lifts up a floorboard in his bedroom. He looks at his
stash of pills, rocks and a pipe. Half the rocks are missing.

3.58 INT. AUSTEN'S ROOM - EVENING

Jaden bursts in, but quietly. His silence doesn't diminish the
power of his intent. Scared, Austen's looks up at him suddenly
from his bed, where he plays Call of Duty on a TV console.

                            JADEN
                         (a whisper)
               What the fuck, brah. Who been at
               my stash ­ any thoughts? Or
               thoughts nowhere near that
               tiny size brain (raps on Austen's
               head with his knuckles)? No one
               messes with my stash ­ no
               matter who ­ hear? Ain't no
               brah of mine gonna sink to
               stealing and dealin' like some
               stinkin' hood rat skunk jus'
               to prove his manhood ­ readin'?
               I's fuckin' me and you got
               destiny, swear. Don't look
               to me. Don't like me. Don't
               follow me, don't run from me,
               don't watch me: just get wiv'
               the school shit and grow up
               like the old man wants ­ hear?

The potency of Jaden's emotion and words shocks Austen; but
now Austen shows nothing but the pride and power he admires.

Austen reaches into his jacket pocket on the chair by his bed.



44 | P a g e
                            AUSTEN
               Take the money, brah ­ just . . .

Jaden stops him.

                            JADEN
               Keep it. Buy books ­ study:
               something. Buy the old man a
               prezzie. If you ever do it again. . .

Austen nods reluctantly. He leaves the money where it is.

Jaden exits the room.

3.59 INT. PAUL'S ROOM - EVENING

Later, a knock on Paul's door. No response. Jaden pushes the
door open a crack, revealing Paul lost and alone on his bed in
a tiny sliver of light among infinite council house darkness.
Seen like this, the marks life has left on Paul are obvious.

                            JADEN
                         (a whisper)
               Goin' out dad ­ OK?

Paul just frowns. He seems too tired to speak. He expresses
`come back safely' in a way that is very hard to bear.

Jaden enters the room. He tucks his old man up in bed safe.

Then he leaves the room quietly and pulls the door shut safe.

He goes downstairs and exits the house quietly.

The ceramic Christ on the Cross in the hallway is silent.

3.60 EXT. E3 ­ EVENING

Jaden walks. He is assured and cool. This is his stage.

He feels the bulge in his belt at the base of his spine.

He gets a text. He checks the message, likes it. He replies.

He greets a group of other hoodies with small talk and fists.

Done, he moves on down another street. He has goods to sell.

He takes a call, makes another, texts and talks. Smooth.



45 | P a g e
A BMW

Swerves near him, splashing him with headlights.

Jaden looks, sees faces he doesn't want to see.

He speeds up and then runs down a side street.

The BMW follows. Now Jaden

Runs, runs, runs

This is our first scene over again.

The streets blur around him into a narrative of his life: the
urban landscape dancing to the beat of his feet. But

Jaden wasn't born to run. Dodging up an alley he slows, turns.

The BMW doors open. Three men get out, follow him.

The glint and sound of shanks being drawn, ready.

Breathing hard but measured, Paul turns and faces them: a big
black guy, an ugly white guy and a tall Chinese guy.

Jaden feels the bulge in his belt at the base of his spine.

                            JADEN
                      (between breaths)
               Aight ­ am done runnin'.
               Do what ya gotta do.

The big black guy comes at him with the shank. It's J.C. ­ the
hood from the party. The other guys back him up.

                               J.C.
               An' all   dis for a three oh four.
               (kisses   his teeth) You could
               had her   anyways if you'd asked
               me nice   fam, swear.

J.C. lunges at Jaden. His shank cuts Jaden mid torso. The
other guys follow up, their blades flashing, searching.

Jaden withdraws the bulge at the base of his spine. His gun.

BOOM ­ his gun speaks - he shoots J.C. dead.

BOOM, BOOM


46 | P a g e
The gun speaks to the other two guys, killing China outright
and wounding the white guy badly. White guy falls, screaming.

                            JADEN
               Shut the fuck . . .

He kneels over white, tries to stop him screaming. But he

SCREAMS

over and over - blood pouring from his punctured chest.

JADEN

Looks around, desperate for him to stop it. Already

THE STREETS

around him are changing ­ as if they are turning to look but

WHITE GUY

Screams and grabs at his bleeding chest. His wild eyes beg.

JADEN

Begins to fold, to lose it as reality comes rushing in and he

SHOOTS

White guy dead. Shuts up. Silent streets. Then after forever

SIRENS

Grow out of the darkness.

Jaden throws his gun away instinctively. Incrimination. He
starts to run. Changes his mind. Turns and picks the gun up.

Sirens seem to haunt the city. And now Jaden

RUNS

So that the city is just lights and people and cars and noise
and people and darkness and people and there, amongst them

AUSTEN

Watching him, his brother and his idol. So now we

CUT TO BLACK

47 | P a g e
3.61 INT. / EXT. IMAGES, STROBE FAST:

Jaden crouches down in the darkness, blood on his hands, blood
on his shirt, blood on his cut torso, blood on his soul.

Jaden stashes his gun in a cloth under the floorboards.

Jaden is tormented by what he's done. Self-loathing.

J.C. and the other dead guys ­ a bloodbath. Sirens growing.

Jaden throws up on a street corner.

Jaden tucks his old man up in bed safe.

All the time

Austen seems to be watching, learning, admiring. Idolising.

CUT TO

3.62 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ EVENING

In the kitchen-diner: Jaden, Austen and Paul.

Paul says a prayer before they eat their corner shop meal.

Austen looks at the crappy bandages around Jaden's torso.

Jaden's hands are together in respect for Paul. Austen prays,
but is now confused. He's scared, but totally in awe of Jaden.

                             PAUL
               . . . for this gift of daily
               bread we thank thee oh Lord. . .

Jaden looks around his praying hands at Austen.

It's a look that Austen will never, ever forget.

3.63 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ LATER, EVENING

The Mac in the sitting room sits unused.

3.64 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ EVENING

The games console in Austen's bedroom sits unused.

3.65 INT. JADEN's ROOM - EVENING

Jaden winces with the agony in his cut bloody torso.

48 | P a g e
3.66 INT. LIVING ROOM - EVENING

Christ stares unseeing in his ceramic torment in the kitchen.

3.67 EXT. E3 ­ DAY

Austen walks home from school. Kids look at him.

Something has changed.

3.68 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ SHOWER - EVENING

Blood runs down the plug hole in the dirty bath.

3.69 INT. THE HALLWAY - EVENING

Austen hears the sound of the shower running. He enters

3.70 INT. JADEN'S BEDROOM - EVENING

He tiptoes to the floorboards near Jaden's bed.

He very cautiously levers a floorboard up. Crystals, pills,
pipes, weed ­ but much more than before. But not what he wants
to see. So Austen puts the floorboard back. He goes to the
door, listens again. The shower still runs. He tiptoes back to
Jaden's bed, looks around. He lifts up Jaden's pillow.

THE GUN

Sits there ­ sleek and cool and mighty and everything.

Slowly, daring himself, Austen goes to TOUCH IT. His fingers
linger on the smooth, cool, imperious steel. Austen is a God.

3.71 INT. E3 HOUSE ­ NIGHT

Jaden and Lycia make love. Slow and perfectly tender, and then
hard and porn. On and on. Bodies twisting in their search for
each other. They come - Jaden's body arching in torment.

LATER

Lycia cradles his head on her breasts. His breathing is
uneven, but then it evens out and slowly becomes calm.

She looks at his bandaged torso. She is afraid.




49 | P a g e
3.72 EXT. E3 ­ NIGHT

Jaden walks the streets. Hoods look at and greet him in a
different way. Respect, but this is a dead man walking.

3.73 INT. / EXT. GOLF GTI/E3 ­ DAY

Jaden drives Austen, who is in his school uniform. His hands
up on the wheel, the dragon tat on Jaden's arm is visible.

To Austen, Jaden looks a little pale, a little ill.

They see a cop car. Another passes them coming the other way.

                            AUSTEN
               Five oh everywhere. Wot's poppin?

                            JADEN
               Police. They're called police.

                            AUSTEN
               Bacon fryin' for breakfast.

Jaden throws him a look.

Their shared secret dominates their every breath.

                            AUSTEN
               Wot's poppin with the pussy, fam?

                            JADEN
               Jesus fucking Christ. You mean
               how's the young lady in your
               life, my blood? Since when
               the fuck you become some kind
               of born again reggin?

                            AUSTEN
               I wonder if you should mind
               you language in front of your
               baby brah, blood.

                            JADEN
               I say blood, you say blood. I
               say brah, you say brah. I say. . .

                            AUSTEN
               Potato, potarto, tomato, tomarto.

They drive a while. Then Jaden sees that Austen's hair 100%
exactly matches his own in terms of its length and styling.

50 | P a g e
                            JADEN
               You get your hair cut?

                            AUSTEN
               And?

They approach the school.

Austen glances at Jaden's torso and then gets out of the car.

                            JADEN
               Brah? You turn into me and
               I'll kill you - hear?

Austen looks at him. Tears well up in his eyes. He nods.

Emotionless, Jaden closes the car door and drives off.

On the pavement, Austen watches him go.

3.74 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ NIGHT

By torchlight under his duvet, Austen draws a `tat' on his
forearm with a biro that matches Jaden's real tat perfectly.

3.75 INT. JADEN'S ROOM - NIGHT

Smoking a bong and drinking, his headphones on and the music
cranked high, Jaden fights an inner battle he can never win.

He looks at his gun on his bedside table. A thing of new evil.

Septic, the wound in his torso is draining him of life.

3.76 INT. CHURCH ­ DAY

Jaden and Austen kneel beside Paul in prayer. Except that
Jaden only kneels on one knee and Austen on neither; and
neither of them are really praying. Beside them Paul prays
with worshipers in the congregation of a dozen or so.

Jaden's hoodie hood is down out of respect. Austen has his
hoodie hood up. Jaden pulls it down. Austen throws him a look,
kisses his tongue. Jaden's eyes darken. Austen relents.

Jaden looks over, sees a man who seems wrong in here. He
twigs: plain clothes COP. Cops don't pray and this one is.




51 | P a g e
3.77 EXT. E3 ­ NIGHT

Jaden sprints flat out through the people, cars, and lights.
At this speed his footsteps are barely a fluttering staccato.

He won't make it.

3.78 INT. E3 HOUSE ­ NIGHT

Lycia cowers in a corner. Three masked guys stand over her.
One has the shank pointing at her, accusing, hating her. This
guy is familiar. Broad, black, athletic, he is similar to J.C.

His name is LINDEN (30). He is J.C.'s brother.

FLASHBACK

3.79 INT. E3 HOUSE ­ NIGHT

J.C. looks death at Lycia, his girl, and then at Jaden, who
meets the challenge of the alpha competition. With other hoods
beside and behind J.C. stands Linden. Brothers to the end.

Jaden feels the bulge in his belt at the base of his spine.

BACK WITH

3.80 INT. E3 HOUSE ­ CONTINUOUS

Linden pulls his mask off, stares hatred at Lycia.

                            LINDEN
               Go fuckin' my brah's enemy, ho.
               My blood's white white enemy.
               For you he's dead. Fuckin' . . .

Linden starts slicing her face up. On her SCREAMS

CUT TO

3.81 EXT. E3 ­ NIGHT

Jaden sprints flat out through the people, cars, and lights.

He rounds a corner in time to see Linden's car smoke away.

CUT TO BLACK

UP ON



52 | P a g e
3.82 INT. HOSPITAL WARD ­ DAY

A CIRCLE OF LIGHT IN THAT BLACK

Lycia lies in a hospital bed. Her whole head is bandaged.

SOUNDS of a busy hospital ward around them ebb and die.

Jaden holds her hand. He weeps.

CUT TO BLACK. UP ON

3.83 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ DAY

Paul brings tea into the living room for himself and the Cop
from the church. Austen stands uneasily near the door. In his
dress, haircut and demeanour he is a perfect model of Jaden.

                             COP
                          (to Paul)
               Thank you Mister Mountjoy.
               (to Austen) I don't want you
               to feel pressured, Austen. You
               haven't done anything, so relax.

Paul goes to Austen and puts an arm around his wonderful son.

The Cop sips the tea.

                         COP (cont'd)
               Oh thank you Mister Mountjoy.
               My brand: Costmart's own!
               (smiles, then, to Austen) All
               I need to know is where your
               brother Jaden is at the moment,
               Austen. When was the last time
               you saw him? You say he
               normally lives here: where is
               he now, today?

Confusion fills Austen's scared face. His dilemma is complete.

Silent in his agony, Christ watches on.

3.84 INT. JADEN'S BEDROOM ­ NIGHT

Austen lifts up the stash floorboard. There is nothing there.




53 | P a g e
3.85 INT. THE BATHROOM ­ NIGHT

Austen takes a breath, then slices his torso in the same place
Jaden was cut. He winces. He hadn't expected it to hurt this
much. Blood flows down and out of the crappy bath plughole.

3.86 INT. THE BATHROOM ­ LATER, NIGHT

Austen dabs at his new manhood wound, which won't stop
bleeding. There are mountains of bloody toilet roll on the
shelf and floor near him. On the toilet roll holder there is
no paper left. Austen looks at his new wound in the mirror.

He makes a gun of his hand and shoots himself in the mirror.

Cool.

3.87 EXT. LYLE PARK, CANNING TOWN, LONDON ­ EVENING

Fugitive Jaden stands looking into the flowing river. He is
pale and gaunt and dirty. Austen stands behind him. He looks
exactly how Jaden used to look. And his torso is bandaged.

Jaden squints at him.

                            JADEN
               Why you fuckin' grass me up.
               Though you was my brah.

Austen thinks about it for a while.

                            AUSTEN
               I didn't tell the pigs. Just
               (falters, then) . . . just
               Hugo up school.

Traffic SOUNDS ebb and die. History flows down to the sea.

                            AUSTEN
               Told because I was proud of ya
               brah. Massive proud.

Jaden looks at him. Proud of him? Fuck.

                            AUSTEN
               Couldn't help it.

Jaden has to hold on to the railings now.

                            AUSTEN
               What the pigs gonna do with ya?

54 | P a g e
Jaden looks around him. Darkness is falling.

Austen produces a gun from the base of his spine. His gun.

                            JADEN
               Where the fuck . . ?

He stares at Austen's gun. Tears blur the evening.

He says it with his tears. This isn't going to happen to you.

                            AUSTEN
               Only way you're gonna stop me
               turning into you is by killing
               me, brah. Long one short.

Austen holds his arms out as if to say `this is what I am'.

Jaden reaches for the base of his spine.

Austen stands there waiting for Jaden's bullet.

Jaden takes his hand away from his gun.

Jaden mumbles something inaudible.

                            AUSTEN
               Say what brah? Too much . . .

He indicates his ears, that wanking makes you deaf, laughs.

                             JADEN
                          (a mumble)
               Said go home. Fix dad's tea.
               I'll be there soon as. OK?

3.88 EXT. ROYAL VICTORIA DOCK ­ NIGHT, LATER

Jaden stands there alone. It's getting cold.

                           AUSTEN VO
                       (Jaden's memory)
               Only way you're gonna stop me
               turning into you is by killing
               me, brah.

                            JADEN
               Got a better idea, baby blood.

Jaden pulls out his gun and shoots himself in the head. Dead.


55 | P a g e
3.89 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ EVENING

In the kitchen-diner: Austen and Paul at the table.

Paul says a prayer before they eat their corner shop meal.

Austen's hands are together in respect for Paul.

But Paul can't speak. Austen sees his tears, which escape from
behind the barrier of his cracked hands like eager jewels.

Austen gets up and hugs his father with all his life.

3.90 INT. E3 COUNCIL HOUSE ­ EVENING

Not remotely resembling Jaden, Austen gets on with his

HOMEWORK

SNAP CUT TO BLACK




56 | P a g e
                           Story #4

BLACK

SUPER

                         `Mea Culpa'

Then:

FADE IN ON

4.91 INT. COUNTRY HOME ­ DAY

Apparently mild mannered URI (40s) writes on his desktop. He
is dressed like an accountant: conservative but efficient.

His blue stocking, home counties WIFE enters with a tray of
tea. She puts the tray down and passes Uri a cup of tea.

                             WIFE
               Won't be long.

Clicking off the Word Window on which he's working on his
computer quickly, he responds with a nondescript smile.

She kisses his forehead and exits the room.

Uri re-opens the Window on his computer. He looks out of the
window. Uri is living with something that can't be lived with.

He swigs from a bottle of JD that he retrieves from a drawer.

He turns back to the computer, reads what he's written.

                            URI VO
               But now the buck must stop.
               Exculpation is no longer
               an option. The state has
               lied to you, Mrs Pentane, and
               whatever the consequences, I
               feel it my duty to put the
               record straight. Why I feel
               thus obliged will become
               apparent should we meet. I
               leave that up to you.

4.92 INT. RESEARCH ROOM, FACILITY ­ DAY

Uri nods to moustachioed Thug#1, who is stretching as if he
has pulled a muscle. Shaved headed Thug#2 pulls a face.

57 | P a g e
                            THUG#2
               Get some deep heat on it.

                              URI
                         (frustrated)
               If we're kindly ready, Mister Tyne.

Uri then goes back to reading his novel.

Thug#2 almost smiles ­ almost. Not a face made for smiling.

Thug#1 works out the tension in the pulled muscle. He then

PUNCHES

NICHOLAS (30s) ­ a man tied naked to an old chair.

Nicholas is a mass of cuts, sores, burns and untreated wounds.
He is filthy and unshaven. He is delirious with agony.
Nicholas barely reacts to the blow ­ he's too far gone.

                             URI
               (without looking up from his book)
               Nicholas it's really so very
               simple.

Nicholas tries to open a swollen bloodshot eye. He can't.

Uri nods to Thug#1 again; but now Thug#1 pulls his blood
soiled rubber gloves off. He goes to put a new pair on.

Uri puts his book down and pulls an exasperated face.

Thug#2 steps in, hungry for exercise.

Thug#2 starts to beat Nicholas up. He has the powerful, fluid
movements of a prize fighter. He treats this as a workout.

Thug#1 looks outraged, as if this is against union rules.

Thug#2 works Nicholas expertly, and with professional care.

                             URI
               Alright, alright ­ thank you
               Mister Karaczun. This is . . .

This is getting them nowhere. Uri looks at Nicholas' pulped
face ­ at the new damage that Thug#2 has done. Pointless.

Thug#2 stands back, waits.


58 | P a g e
Uri stands, goes to a cabinet and pulls out a set of surgical
implements. He puts a pair of rubber sanitary gloves on. He
lays out the implements on a metal table beside Nicholas.

He goes to work.

4.93 INT. ARTIST STUDIO ­ DAY

ELLE (30's) draws a female nude in white pastel on black
paper. The drawing is as exquisite as she is, if that's
possible. Elle is the kind of woman that men will do anything
for - the kind of unforgettable beauty you see very rarely.

Elle takes extreme care with the drawing. Her attention to it
and involvement with it is absolute. She is alone in the
studio, which contains other drawings and simple furnature.

The SOUNDS of Uri torturing Nicholas OVER are in extreme,
hideous contrast to the beauty of Elle and her drawings.
The contours of Elle's face and the fine lines and moments of
shade in her drawing. The sounds of unimaginable suffering.

Five minutes of drawing. Five minutes of Nicholas' screams.

Then the SOUND of Uri dropping an implement and cursing.

The Thugs mumbling.

CUT TO BLACK

A heart PULSE falters, and then stops.

An electrocardiograph flat line SOUND.

A beat, then

UP ON

4.94 INT. RESEARCH ROOM, FACILITY ­ DAY

Uri stands back. There is blood all over his rubber gloves and
some on his apron. He looks at Nicholas, feels his pulse.

Nicholas is dead.

4.95 INT. BOARD ROOM, FACILITY - DAY

Uri sits at a huge, polished oak business meeting table. He is
now dressed in a business shirt, tie and three-piece suit. But
a louche handkerchief in his breast pocket adds a touch of
flare to his sombre ensemble. Uri is somewhat frustrated.

59 | P a g e
Three other suits are at the table: BOOTHY (50s), the boss,
SILK (40s), #2, and PARKER (30s), #3. All but Parker are
middle class and business-like. In here, PC efficiency is all.

                            BOOTHY
               Has the next of kin been
               informed?

Silk clears his throat.

                              SILK
               Not yet sir.

                            BOOTHY
                         (inform her)
               There's never a good time.

                              SILK
               Yes sir.

Silk makes a note on his iPad.

Boothy looks at Uri as if waiting for an explanation.

                             URI
               Our intelligence . . .

The irony of that comment creates a response that emanates
from Boothy and travels round the table hierarchically.

                            BOOTHY
               As the board understood it, the
               prisoner was verified as the
               jihadi. There was DNA. . .

                             URI
               We now believe the evidenced
               might have been contaminated.

                            BOOTHY
                       (not impressed)
               Was there any form of extraction?

                             URI
               The suspect revealed nothing of
               the activities of which he was
               suspected by the board, sir.

                            PARKER
               Fruit was not born.


60 | P a g e
The oddness of that causes some rolled eyes around the table.

                             URI
               It was a fruitless interrogation,
               sir - yes.

Boothy studies the information on his laptop. The others
therefore do the same. Uri smartens his suit and shirt cuffs.

Boothy eventually looks up from his laptop.

                            BOOTHY
               So not only do we have no further
               intel about the event, we
               have another next of kin, a
               nuclear bloody winter of media
               fallout and the inevitable
               Whitehall storm. We also have
               another body to . . .

                            PARKER
               Liquidate, sir?

Boothy ignores Parker almost entirely.

                            BOOTHY
                      (refers to laptop)
               It says here `The suspect did
               not respond to the usual stimuli.
               (at Uri) Stimuli? The usual . . .

                             URI
               We explored the usual routes
               in accordance with our mandate.

Boothy and Silk seem repulsed; Parker seems fascinated.

                             SILK
                         (to Boothy)
               If I may, sir. (to Uri) Perhaps
               he told you nothing because he
               knew nothing.

                             URI
               That's likely, yes.

                            BOOTHY
               Likely? Christ! This is the kind
               of thing the media gorges on
               for months! We can't . . .


61 | P a g e
                             URI
               There is no need.

Boothy looks at Uri. The others look at Uri.

                             URI
               Nicholas Pentane died while
               engaged in activities commensal
               with his profession as a
               freelance reporter from wounds
               sustained at the hands of
               insurgent personnel. He died
               behind enemy lines. He was
               transported home in a manner
               befitting a hero. He died
               while attempting to maintain
               the integrity and vibrancy of
               a free press ­ a press we all. . .

                            BOOTHY
               Spare me the party line, Uri,
               for God sake! This'll wiki
               itself sky high unless . . .

                             URI
               It's taken care of, sir.

They all look at him. The monster in their midst. Eventually:

                            BOOTHY
               We're getting off-message here.

                            PARKER
               Mission creep.

It should be funny but somehow it's sick.

                            BOOTHY
               What we're here to establish is
               how a freelance writer get's
               wrongly arrested, subjected to
               (makes quotation marks with his
               fingers) rendition and is then
               tortured by experts in the
               certainty that he is in fact
               a terrorist planning acts
               against the common good. On
               home soil against the Great
               British public et cetera.
               (beat) He was as innocent as
               any of us. Any answers, Uri?

62 | P a g e
Silence a beat, then:

                             URI
               Mistakes, happen, sir.

                            BOOTHY
               The man wrote a column for the
               Economist, for God sake!

Silence a beat, then:

                             URI
               The best moles have the best
               covers, sir. They simply
               always do.

Boothy looks at Uri in a particular way.

                            BOOTHY
               What we also need to establish
               is whether he was killed
               deliberately, or by . . .

4.96 INT. COUNTRY HOME ­ DAY

In his y-fronts only, Uri stands in his bathroom and scrubs
his hands manically in the sink. His hands are rubbed raw by
the scrubbing. He whimpers as he does this. His body shakes.

4.97 INT. BOARD ROOM, FACILITY - CONTINUOUS

                            PARKER
               Misadventure, sir?

Boothy glances at Parker. He doesn't need any help, thank you.

                             URI
               The human body can only take so
               much, sir. Subjected to a
               certain level of pressure it
               buckles. Nicholas Pentane's
               body simply broke under duress.

                             SILK
               The mind-body continuum.

                             URI
               The mind-body continuum.

Boothy reads something else on his laptop:


63 | P a g e
                            BOOTHY
               NP was arrested on the night of
               the fourth (reads more then)
               Transported under guard to
               the facility. Work began on
               the seventh to determine. . .

Boothy removes his glasses, looks at Uri.

                            BOOTHY
               So what was going on between
               the fourth and the seventh?

Uri clears his throat.

                             URI
               I was on holiday, sir.

                             SILK
               Ah. Anywhere nice?

                              URI
               Malaga again, sir. My wife does
               like it there.

                            BOOTHY
               Well not a bad choice at that
               time of year. We recommended
               that to do didn't we?

                              URI
               You did, sir, yes. Your wife
               actually sent us the brochure
               if you recall.

4.98 INT. ARTIST STUDIO ­ DAY

The phone rings. Elle leaves her drawing reluctantly, but then
smiles when she answers the phone. She misses her man!

                             ELLE
               Hello. (then, disappointed)
               Yes. (then, with dread) Yes.

                          BOOTHY VO
               We actually tried Corfu this
               year. Not bad ­ though it could
               have been warmer.

Elle listens to the caring sharing voice on the phone.


64 | P a g e
She listens, then puts her hand to her mouth. Her beautiful
eyes cloud with tears. She starts to buckle and sway. Then she
collapses. There's a certain grace to the way she does it.

                           SILK VO
               I can actually recommend Crete
               at this time of year. A bit
               populous, but there are places
               where one can escape the hordes.

Elle drops the phone.

4.99 INT. BOARD ROOM, FACILITY - CONTINUOUS

Boothy and Parker laugh at/with Silk. Uri's face is stone.

                            BOOTHY
               Oh Lord, Michael; if we left it
               to you we'll all be holidaying
               on the Norfolk Broads!

Silk pulls a `well actually' face. There is some laughter
until Boothy stops laughing and re-focusses on their agenda.
Boothy reads from his laptop again, then removes his glasses.

                            BOOTHY
               What we're left with is
               something of a mess. I'm sure
               you agree.

He looks at Uri and waits. The others do the same.

                             URI
               Sorry sir I don't suppose we
               could get some . . . I'm . . .

Uri makes a thirsty gesture. Mildly irritated, Boothy presses
a button on an intercom. It buzzes the other end, then

                            BOOTHY
                     (into the intercom)
               Sharon could we get some more
               coffee please. (to the others)
               Biscuits? (the others nod except
               Uri) And some biscuits. The
               usual. Actually if there are
               any chocolate digestives.

                          SHARON OS
                      (on the intercom)
               Certainly sir.

65 | P a g e
                            BOOTHY
                     (into the intercom)
               Thanks Sharon.

Boothy scratches his head, refocuses. Uri waits.

4.100 INT. COUNTRY HOME ­ DAY

Dressed like an accountant, Uri writes on his desktop.

                             URI
               My desire to meet with you
               arises from a strong urge to
               inform you of the circumstances
               under which your husband
               actually passed away. The fact
               is, Mrs Pentane, that you have
               certainly been misinformed.

Uri looks up, out of the window. He looks at his hands. They
seem so ordinary, so dull, and so average. He drinks more JD.

4.101 INT. BOARD ROOM, FACILITY - DAY

Uri accepts the coffee Sharon pours for them all. She puts a
plate of digestives down on the table and leaves the room.

                            BOOTHY
               Thanks Sharon.

Sharon smiles a response. She closes the door behind her.

Parker reaches out and grabs a digestive, which he eats.

                            PARKER
                         (mouth full)
               Never can resist the bloody
               things.

                            BOOTHY
                         (to Parker)
               Make yourself at home, minister.

Boothy and Silk grab a biscuit.

Uri sips his coffee. He REACTS.

The coffee is scalding. He has SCALDED his tongue.

                                URI
               Bloody hell!

66 | P a g e
SMASH CUT TO

4.102 INT. FACILITY ­ DAY (FLASHBACK)

In the last moments of his life, Nicholas screams and writhes
under the onslaught of agony delivered by Uri with his
surgical instruments. Nicholas is a pulped mess of blood.

4.103 INT. ELLE'S APARTMENT ­ NIGHT

Elle's face is contorted by grief. She is curled in the foetal
position on the floor. She weeps desperately. She staggers to
her feet. She goes to a built-in wardrobe. She opens his side
of it. His suits and shirts hang in quiet rows. She presses
into them, embraces them, sobbing and screaming her agony.

4.104 INT. COUNTRY HOME ­ DAY

Uri thinks a moment and then click `Send' with his mouse.

He takes a deep breath.

4.105 EXT. ELLE'S APARTMENT ­ DAY

Uri gets out of the taxi and pays the driver.

He then turns to face the address. He tries to move naturally,
but his body is stiff with misgiving. He takes a breath to try
to calm himself. He manages to walk to the front of the
apartment block. He starts to walk up the steps to the front
door; but then he retreats. He steps backwards, then begins to
walk away. He can't do it. His hands are shaking. He makes
fists to stop them. He takes another breath, looks up at the
apartment block. He is sick with stress. He forces his limbs
to obey him. He manages to walk back to the steps. He manages
to walk up the steps. Eventually he manages to press the

BUZZER

4.106 INT. ELLE'S APARTMENT ­ DAY, SAME TIME

Elle hears the door buzzer. She is pale and underweight.

She gets up, walks to the apartment door. She presses the
intercom button with trepidation. Her mouth is dry.

                                ELLE
               Yes?

The crackle of electric silence. Nothing.


67 | P a g e
Exasperated, she takes her finger off the button, turns away.

The buzzer sounds again.

Elle curses and turns back to it.

She hesitates, and then presses the answer button.

                             ELLE
               Hello?

                             URI
               Mrs Pentane? It's Uri Tallow
               from the ministry. We spoke
               earlier?

It's hard to do this. It takes everything that's left of her.

                             ELLE
               Ah ­ yes. Come in.

She presses the buzzer door release. The front door opening
sound, OS. Elle turns away from the door. She gathers herself.

She looks at her apartment door. She steps backwards from it,
as if dreading what might be approaching it. Eventually she is
in the middle of the large, open plan room staring at the
door. A shadow is visible under the door. A shape. A man. The

KNOCK

On her door makes her jump. She gathers herself.

She goes to the door. Eventually she opens it.

Uri stands there. He smiles thinly, extends a hand. As she
takes it he looks at his hand. This hand killed her love.

                             URI
               Mrs Pentane very good of you
               to see me like this.

                             ELLE
               Come in Mister Tallow.

She wants anything but this dull little man in her apartment.

Uri enters. He wipes his feet excessively, over and over.

She closes the door behind him. He looks around.


68 | P a g e
                             URI
               Lovely, just lovely. This is
               yours? Goodness.

He goes to a piece of art hanging on the wall. A nude.

                             URI
               It's amazing. Such talent. Me . . .

He shrugs as if worthless. Elle tries to hold it together.

                             ELLE
               Can I get you anything?

                             URI
               No ­ really I'm fine. Thank you.

He has trouble meeting her eyes. That unsettles her even more.

                             URI
               Such platitudes! Here we are
               trapped inside a Terrence
               Rattigan three act . . .

He laughs. It sounds unnatural.

Wary of him in the extreme, he gestures to a seat reluctantly.

She sits down opposite him. Her body language is pure defence.

                             URI
               Mrs Pentane. A delicate subject
               of course. Your husband.

She blinks. He can see the unimaginable depth of her grief.

Uri gets some correspondence out of his briefcase.

                             URI
               Good, old fashioned paper.
               Nothing like it.

He waves the sheets of paper around. She can't even react.

                             URI
               Firstly I'm so very sorry for
               your loss. I know the ministry
               has informed you that your
               husband ­ Mr Nicholas . . .

She puts her hand across her slightly swollen belly.

69 | P a g e
She's pregnant. My God. Uri frowns slightly, struggles.

                             URI
               Misses Pentane the fact is that . . .

She looks at him with exhausted, beautiful eyes.

                             URI
               The truth is Misses Pentane
               that . . . I'm here to tell you
               that . . . Well this may not
               be what you want to hear but . . .

He looks at her, looks away. He can't meet her gaze.

                             ELLE
                      (get the fuck out)
               If you'd kindly hurry. Please.

Her phone bleeps a message alert. An isolated sound.

                             URI
               Misses Pentane I . . .

He can't speak. Why did he come here? This is impossible.

                             URI
               Misses Pentane . . .

                             ELLE
               Oh for God sake!

She gets up, stands, walks away from him. He stands.

                             URI
               The fact is that your husband
               did not die in the manner in
               which you have been told he
               died. As I alluded in my
               letter, my email. . .

She opens the door for him to leave. He wants to die.

                             ELLE
               I can't do this now. I'm sorry.

He follows her to the door. His hands are shaking.

                              URI
               Misses Pentane please hear me.
                            (more)

70 | P a g e
                           (cont'd)
               Why did I come here today?
               Well, the truth is I believe
               you should have the facts. The
               facts are that. . .we believe
               your husband was wrongfully
               arrested and . . .

She looks at him. No shit!

A family walking in the hall outside the door draw her
attention. A mother and her two sons. They smile at her.

She tries to smile, closes the door slightly.

Uri is almost hyperventilating by now.

                             ELLE
               You need to get the hell away
               from me. Sorry, but. . .

                             URI
               Misses Pentane the fact is that
               your husband was subjected to
               rendition. Not as you may have
               heard of it but in a form. . .

She has to lean against the wall.

                             URI
               Whilst in this instance your
               husband wasn't transported
               abroad because of logistics.

                                 ELLE
                             (a whisper)
               Logistics?

                             URI
               He was subjected here, in the
               United Kingdom to a process
               designed to get him to confess.

4.107 INT. BOARD ROOM, FACILITY - DAY

Uri feels his burnt tongue. Boothy, Silk and Parker observe.

                            BOOTHY
               What we need to establish, Uri,
               is whether, having found out
                            (more)

71 | P a g e
                           (cont'd)
               that you had made a mistake,
               you killed Nicholas Pentane
               deliberately, or whether his
               death was merely a product of
               of the processes to which he
               was being subjected.

                             URI
               He was no longer any use. By
               that stage his body was, his
               mind. . .He would never have
               been able to lead an ordinary
               life: work, have relationships.

                            BOOTHY
               So you did the judicious thing
               and disposed of the suspect
               accordingly?

4.108 INT. ELLE'S APARTMENT ­ DAY, SAME TIME

Elle stands by the door. She buckles. He wants to help her.

                             URI
               Your husband was tortured,
               Misses Pentane.

His voice has an unnatural edge to it. It sounds weird.

She starts to laugh hysterically. It's all a joke. Of course.

                             URI
               These are measures taken
               occasionally and in conditions
               of the utmost secrecy against
               certain suspects accused of
               terrorism ­ I'm sure you're aware.

She stops laughing.

She stares at him, tries to form words.

Her knees give out. He goes to her, helps her.

                             ELLE
               DON'T TOUCH ME!

She pushes him away in panic. He recoils.



72 | P a g e
                               ELLE
               Get out. Now.

Another text message bleeps ludicrously from her phone.

                             URI
               This isn't exactly what I came
               here to tell you, Misses . . .
               Not entirely. . .

She leans again the wall. He shuts the door softly.

He seems to reach a critical mass. Emotion leaves him.

                             URI
               What I came here to tell you
               today that it was me. I oversaw
               the torture and tortured your
               husband. It was under my
               ministrations . . .

She is incredulous of the use of the word.

                             URI
               It was me, you see. I killed
               him. An accident. Only so much.

Her world has become a nightmare. Nothing is real.

                             URI
               I know this is a lot to take
               in, Misses Pentane.

The words don't seem like hers:

                               ELLE
               What are you?

Uri almost smiles. Little old me.

As if in a dream she looks around, searching for something.

                             ELLE
               I'm calling the police.

                             URI
               That won't help much today.

But she dials. He grabs the phone from her with polite force.

He puts then phone down like a 5 star hotel receptionist.

73 | P a g e
                             ELLE
               What the fuck do you think. . .
               Get out ­ now!

She grabs the phone again and redials. He grabs the phone from
her, this time with slightly more force. She is pushed away.

                             ELLE
               Fucker! GET THE FUCK OUT!

But he just stands near her, breathing.

                             ELLE
               What do you want from me?

He opens his arms slightly, looks at her. The eyes of a child.

                             URI
               I want. I want. . .

He can't say it. Can't say forgiveness, can't say death.

She SUDDENLY grabs an ornament from the dresser near her.

                             URI
               Wait. Wait please.

He drops to his knees. Gets ready.

                              URI
               OK.

But she has swung and CONNECTED before he has spoken.

He reels from the impact, but she is weak with shock.

                             ELLE
               Piece of shit-mould. Get out. . .

She swings again ­ stronger this time. The blow hurts him.

                             ELLE
               This is what you fucking want?
               Fuck. . .(sobbing) Oh Jesus. . .

She changes. Adrenaline kicks in. She starts to pound him with
the ornament, which breaks. Then she grabs a stone stature and

HITS

Him with it. That sends him flying. He grovels on the carpet.

74 | P a g e
                             ELLE
               Motherfucker . . .

She lays into him. He accepts it all. Blow after bloody blow.

                             URI
               Yes (blow) Yes (blow) Yes (blow).

After a while she slows, exhausted.

                             ELLE
               Piece of dogshit . . .

She grabs her belly, grimaces. Uri's face is now pulped.

                             URI
               Misses Pentane . . . the
               exertion. Please . . .

He means her belly, her unborn child.

                             ELLE
               What? (incredulous) WHAT?

She is sobbing, broken, exhausted.

4.109 INT. BOARD ROOM, FACILITY - DAY

Uri looks at Booth, Silk and Parker. Coffee and digestives.

                             URI
               I relieved him of his pain.

4.110 INT. ELLE'S APARTMENT ­ DAY

Elle gasps for breath, stares at Uri through tears.

She drops the bloody stone statue. Uri is badly injured now.

                             ELLE
               Am I expected to admire . . .
               Leave me alone.

She tries to open the door, to haul him out.

                             URI
               It's OK. I don't want you to
               be . . . I'll make up a story.
               Don't worry. (beat) Actually
               I hate it all. (beat) I do as
               I'm told, actually. Sometimes . . .

75 | P a g e
She grabs the stone statue again and SWINGS.

Primal, she SCREAMS at him as she does it, and now the statue

CONNECTS

Uri is thrown sideways by the adrenal force of the blow.

He falls on the expensive carpet, barely conscious.

He glimpses a WHITE feather displayed as an ornament among
other artefacts in a lit, glass fronted display cabinet.

Elle drops the stone statue again, stumbles away.

                             ELLE
               Get out.

Uri begins to crawl towards the door. Leaves a trail of blood.

                             URI
               Don't worry. Mum's the word,
               Mrs Pentane. I'll take care of
               everything. Everything. I promise. . .

He reaches the door, grabs it with a bloody hand as we

CUT TO

4.111 INT. FACILITY ­ DAY

His face scarred, Uri sits among the instruments of torture.
Done thinking, he suddenly snaps his rubber gloves on.

Better get to it.




76 | P a g e
                            Story #5

BLACK

SUPER

                       `Jeremy Bentham'

FADE IN ON

5.112 EXT. SOUTH LONDON STREET ­ NIGHT

In urban winter darkness a hoodie walks down an alley. He uses
the deep shadows to conceal himself. He scopes out the back of
the houses he walks past, as if looking for an opportunity.

A radio advert ends OVER:

                            AD VO
               . . .not that you'll be needing
               one now that your house
               assurance is on the house. Cheers!

As the VO ends there is the sound of drinking glasses knocking
together in a busy pub, then an inane radio ad jingle, then:

5.113 INT. RADIO STATION ­ DJ BOOTH ­ NIGHT

                         FEMALE DJ VO
               So welcome back and if you've
               just joined us welcome: I'm
               talking to Chris Marlow, the
               barrister who represented
               decorated Afghanistan para
               veteran Shona Barnes earlier
               this year. If you recall, Shona
               was sentenced to seven years
               in Wormwood Scrubs for the
               murder of Caleb Rounds ­ the
               man who broke into her house,
               shot and held her hostage for
               several hours on the night of
               March the twelfth last year.
               Chris ­ so . . . in your
               opinion Shona's Post-Traumatic
               Stress Disorder, a condition
               she suffered following action. . .
               an incident with an IED in
               Helmand Province in Afghanistan
               in May two thousand and ten,
                            (more)

77 | P a g e
                           (cont'd)
               an incident that killed a
               close colleague of hers and
               resulted in Shona being
               pensioned, invalided out of
               the army. In your opinion Chris,
               this - the PTSD - should have
               been crucial to the decision
               not to prosecute Shona for
               murder, a charge you now feel
               should have been reduced to
               what: manslaughter? She didn't
               seem like much of an invalid
               in the way she dealt with Rounds
               did she? So for you - was this
               a travesty of justice? Really?

                          MARLOW VO
               My sense of it is, Christie,
               as I've said, and the reason I
               feel I failed, really, is that
               the state must find a way
               to take responsibility.

The hoodie climbs over the back fence of a house. He then
proceeds up the garden ­ again hugging the shadows for cover.

                         FEMALE DJ VO
               But now you're considering
               retiring? With a future as
               QC certain. A Law Lord perhaps.
               You're regarded by many as a
               (laughs) legal wunderkind!

                          MARLOW VO
               Well I don't know about that.
               But yes, I'm looking to move
               out of the legal profession now.

                         FEMALE DJ VO
               Because of this case, specifically?
               As Queens Council you could help
               people like Shona. Lots of Shonas.

                            MARLOW
               I know. But look. For me it's
               this: we send her out to
               Afghanistan. We tell her to kill
               people who resisted our invasion.
               (as the DJ starts to speak) But
                            (more)

78 | P a g e
                           (cont'd)
               anyway ­ look: we make her
               an expert. A killing machine.
               And then war breaks our machine.
               So then our machine needs
               Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
               drugs in order to function in
               normal life. To make a cup of
               tea, for God sake. (silence a
               beat, then) She's a broken
               child, Chrissie. We broke her.
               So then when she kills a known
               psychotic child molester and
               murderer in her home in the
               middle of the night ­ in her
               home - in self-defence ­ we,
               the state, we call that murder,
               and we throw her to the dogs. We
               screw her up in the name of a
               cause in some country some
               people - and lets' face it,
               in a part of the world not
               many British people know or
               give a damn about - and then we
               finish the job. We prosecute her
               for murder and lock her up.

The hoodie chooses a ground floor window. He jemmies it open.

                         FEMALE DJ VO
               But ultimately the only
               alternative is that we don't
               have a professional, a standing
               army. We rely on . . .

                          MARLOW VO
               I understand. I understand
               that when you sign up, you
               take your chances. You become
               an organ of the state, and if
               that state tells you to kill
               people in its name, it chooses
               not to call that murder. It
               chooses then to call you a
               hero ­ especially if you die.

                         FEMALE DJ VO
               So these young people, the
               soldiers who give their lives
               in the defence of our liberty
                            (more)

79 | P a g e
                           (cont'd)
               don't deserve the label hero.
               Is that what you're saying?

The hoodie climbs through the window he has jemmied open.

                          MARLOW VO
               Nation states have always
               protected themselves from their
               own imperial absurdities. What
               would be left if there was no
               chance of glory? Why would anyone
               sign up? Look: in war, anywhere,
               people do what they can to
               survive. All I can say is that
               personally, I mean as Shona's
               brief, I failed to make the court
               see sense. For me, you know, it's
               like you can murder in the so
               called defence of the state but
               if you kill in the defence of
               yourself . . .You know it's
               like, I mean as Shakespeare
               said `if his cause be wrong,
               our obedience to the king
               wipes the crime of it out of us.'

His voice dissolves and fades away as we

CUT TO

5.114 INT. SHONA'S HOME, BEDROOM ­ NIGHT

SHONA (20s, black) is awoken by a sound ­ the dull clunk of
something giving under strain. She lifts her head up, listens.

Another clunk, but this followed by other sounds downstairs.

Shona is quickly out of bed, standing. She moves in a way that
suggests combat training: with controlled power and assurance.

She is not afraid.

5.115 INT. SHONA'S HOME, KITCHEN - NIGHT

CALEB (20s, white) breaks in through the kitchen window. He's
young and hooded. His thin face is haunted by addiction.

Caleb climbs through the window he has just jemmied open. He
stands in the kitchen a moment, listening. He hears nothing.


80 | P a g e
He starts to move quietly through the kitchen towards the

5.116 INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Caleb enters. He looks around, sees the usual living room
stuff: a settee, some ornaments, a TV and iPod and iPod dock;
a shelf bearing a few ornaments ­ OK, but Caleb wants more.

What Caleb doesn't seem to see are the mantelpiece photos of
Corporal Shona smiling with her Para mates in Afghanistan.

Caleb turns and heads towards the door. He goes out into the

5.117 INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

Caleb emerges from the living room.

CRACK

A fist connects with his jaw, sending him staggering.

CRACK, CRACK

Another two blows ­ a fist and a kick. Caleb sprawls, and then
manages to stand as Shona attacks him. She moves fast and with
focus ­ a shape in the darkness moving very fast. Caleb lashes
out with his right fist. He misses. She lands another two
punches to his neck and face. He yells and lashes out again.
This time he connects with the side of her head. She goes
sprawling. He dives towards her and pounds her with his fists.

                               CALEB
                  What the fuck ­ easy-peasy, ho!

She fights him: the focussed power of a trained soldier; but
he's too strong and doesn't seem to feel blows that should be
causing him a lot of pain. He PUNCHES her in the head twice.

She goes still.

Caleb now pulls the SILENCED GUN he's been trying to get his
hands on throughout the fight from his jacket pocket. He
stands, gasping for breath. He aims the gun at her.

                               CALEB
                  A bitch. I been had by a bitch!
                  (starts to laugh) Stand, bitch.

She just maintains her guard, balled up on the floor.



81 | P a g e
                            CALEB
               I said stand up. No way we're
               gonna have chats with you
               sprawled. Less you wanna fuck me
               now that is.

She looks up at him. Her evulsion is obvious.

He gestures up with the gun. Slowly, carefully, she stands.

                            CALEB
               Well shocky-shocky-shock. Wasn't
               expecting quite such a welcome.

Shona could be a statue.

                            CALEB
               What the fuck.

Caleb still points his gun at her. He looks at her. Nice.

                            CALEB
               It's Christmas, ho, ho, ho . . .

Keeping his gun on her, Caleb turns a lamp on. He sees her:
average height but athletic, powerful: attractive, damaged.

                            CALEB
               Way ­ ho. Choice. Smile for
               the camera. You got names?

He comes closer to her, examines her ­ but keeps his distance.
She seems calm, but he sees the storm beneath the surface.

                            CALEB
               All fucked up now ain't ya, babe.
               Who did this to ya?

All that moves is her eyes: she watches the gun ­ nothing
else. Caleb moves the gun deliberately, making her eyes move.

                            CALEB
               Notable: Lara fuckety Croft.

He moves the gun erratically. He can't outpace her eyes.

                            CALEB
                         (game over)
               Well shit, bitch: ain't you the
               self-same night owl. Name. I
               said what's your fuckin' name?

82 | P a g e
Still her eyes on the gun. Suddenly annoyed, he

LASHES OUT

He goes to hit her in the face with his gun but she ducks. He
swings at her again, and again she ducks. She assumes a combat
position: fists up, body ready again. She looks at his eyes.

                            CALEB
               Well ain't you the pocket
               battleship. We gonna have another
               swingers, you an' me? Don't
               think so, bitch. Think you an'
               me we gonna have chats, get
               under each other's skinny,
               maybe get some cosy. Howzat.

Fighting some inner battle, she just waits for his next move.

He's impressed, but suddenly he's bored by this game.

He aims the gun at her head.

                             CALEB
               OK. Let's play the you-kneeling
               -on-the-floor-now game. I liked
               you down there.
                      (she doesn't move)
               Yesterday, bitch.

He starts to squeeze the trigger. She doesn't move.

He aims the gun at her left shoulder and

SHOOTS HER

The bullet NICKS shoulder. It's just a flesh wound ­ but
enough to shut her up and make her drop to her knees in AGONY.

                            CALEB
               Now we got some kind of
               understanding. Some kind of
               parity goin' down. Name, ho.

He stands over her, looks down at the booty. She grabs her
left shoulder with her right hand and squeezes. The pain makes
her cry out, but she immediately bites her lip silent.

                             CALEB
               Well well. Now I'm more than
                            (more)

83 | P a g e
                           (cont'd)
               somewhat. Don't know that I
               could take one like that.

He looks away from her, sees the photographs on the mantle:
Shona the soldier with her squaddie buddies in Afghanistan.

                            CALEB
               Well that explains. A bona fide
               fuckin hero. Heroine. Which
               makes me wonder, actually:
               where's your stash? The gear?

He looks at her, waits. She grimaces in controlled agony.

                            CALEB
               Don't make me spell it out. You
               know why we in `ere `aving this.

Losing it, he suddenly goes to her, grabs her and drags her to
the settee. He throws her on it. The pain makes her wince. She
muffles her scream with pride. She now knows he is psychotic.

                            CALEB
               DON'T PLAY ME, BITCH. Where's
               your fuckin' gear. Everybody
               got gear round this green
               and pleasant land.

He points his gun at her head. She shakes her head no.

                            CALEB
               What the fuck. You the only
               bitch I picked in this whole
               postie with no gear? Fuck.
               Trust Caleb to pick a soldier.

He glances at the photographs again, grins.

                            CALEB
               You got that uniform still? I
               like a woman in uniform.

She just looks at him through the fog of bloody agony.

                            CALEB
               How come you so hot, babes?
               You leave the central heating
               on all night to keep you snuggles?
               Nothing like a man for that.


84 | P a g e
He removes his jacket, and then the hoodie he wears beneath
it. She can see his prison tats and scars on his neck. She can
see the injection marks on his dirty, skinny forearms.

                            CALEB
               Hey ­ what you lookin' at?
               Look at me. At me eyes, ho.

She won't meet his eyes. ON her eyes in ECU:

The SOUNDS of war until

                            CALEB
               I said look at me you fuckin' . . .

He jabs the gun into her crotch, leans close to her.

She looks him in the eyes. She sees everything that's wrong.

                            CALEB
               You know what I am ­ huh? You
               know what I am, really? (leans
               close, looks deep into her eyes)
               I'm hungry. Starved. (stands up,
               moves towards the door) Wot you
               gonna give Caleb tweet ­ apart
               from laters?

He grins, looks at her crotch and licks his lips.

Her eyes are glass. She closes them to make it all go away.

                              CALEB
               Hey ­   no: none of that. You stay
               front   and fucking centre. On the
               ball.   Keep your soldier eyes
               on me   no matter what. Hear me?

She opens her eyes. The SOUNDS of war. Her war. Her hell.

                            CALEB
               That's better, soldier soldier.
               Now don't be going for no
               walkies ­ `kay?

Backing towards the door he looks and points his gun at her.

                            CALEB
               Not a muscle, ho. You stay
               like a good doggie ­ period.


85 | P a g e
He doesn't trust her, but he's going to take a chance.

He heads out of the room quickly and goes into the

5.118 INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Caleb goes through cupboards - fast.

                             CALEB
               Not a move, babes. I'm watching.
                     (searches cupboards)
               Where you keep the cake, ho?
               Me and Victoria sponge, we're
               tight as a schoolgirl's twat.

Going from cupboard to cupboard, he sees the usual food and
crockery etc. In one cupboard he sees bottle of prescription
pills: benzodiazepine, diazepam, and methylphenidate.

                            CALEB
                       (a low whistle)
               And I thought I was fucked up.
               What they do to you out there,
               babes? Turn you into a raghead?

He grabs a bottle of benzodiazepine and goes back into the

5.119 INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Reading the bottle label he doesn't notice that she has gone
for a brief moment. But when he does, he throws the bottle
aside and starts moving. He runs out of the room and heads

5.120 INT. UPSTAIRS - NIGHT

Caleb runs up the stairs onto the landing, his gun up.

                            CALEB
               Hey ­ fuck, bitch. Hey!

He hears a noise from the

5.121 INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

He runs in, sees her trying to make a call on her mobile. With
his peripheral vision and for the briefest moment he sees a
WHITE feather on the dresser beside her bed. Without stopping
he rushes her, as she desperately thumbs the buttons. He
SMASHES the phone from her hand and shoves her. But she
manages to keep on her feet and run out of the room. He


86 | P a g e
SHOOTS

The bullet THUDS into the wall by her as she sprints onto the

5.122 INT. LANDING - NIGHT

Shona emerges from the bedroom and rushes down the stairs, her
left hand holding her wounded and bleeding right shoulder.

                            CALEB
               Come here you fuckin' slag . . .

Caleb runs down the stairs after her.

DOWNSTAIRS

Shona sprints full speed into the

5.123 INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

She goes to a drawer, rips it open. She grabs a knife and
turns to face him just as he reaches her. His face contorted,
he CRAMS his gun into her face as she SLASHES at him

CUTTING HIM

Caleb staggers backwards, his face pouring blood.

                            CALEB
               Fucking slippery bitch! SHIT!

Caleb points the gun at her. She freezes. He indicates drop
the knife with the gun while he holds his cut, bleeding face.

She puts the knife down. Her eyes never leave his gun.

                            CALEB
               You stupid fucking slut! Jesus!

Shocked by the CUT on his face he aims his gun at her head.

                             SHONA
               Do it.

                             CALEB
               She speaks.

She means shoot her.

                            SHONA
               Go for it. Serious.

87 | P a g e
                             CALEB
                Don't fuckin' tempt me.

His finger squeezes the

TRIGGER

Tighter and tighter. The trigger starts to move. But then she

SMILES AT HIM

He stops, thrown by her smile.

                             CALEB
                What the fuck? No one smiles
                at Caleb.

She still smiles at him.

                             CALEB
                Stop. (spells) D-O-N-T. I said. . .

He shoves the gun at her. But she keeps smiling. Bizarre.

                              CALEB
                           (panicked)
                Stop. Fucking don't smile. `Kay?

But she won't stop. He lunges at her, swipes with the gun.

She lashes out at him with her fist ­ HITS his face.

He staggers backwards. He's had enough.

He aims the gun at her head again, sure and steady.

                             CALEB
                Your choice, bitch.

She stops smiling.

                             SHONA
                Wrong.

She drops her guard, stands very still, waiting. The bleeding
gunshot wound in her shoulder is draining the life from her.

They look at each other a moment, breathing hard.

She looks away from him, disgusted.


88 | P a g e
                             CALEB
               That's what I thought. (beat)
               OK. So now what we gonna do is
               you gonna make me a sarnie. Go.
                      (she doesn't move)
               Go!

She holds his eyes defiantly, and then she moves.

5.124 INT. KITCHEN ­ LATER, NIGHT

Caleb eats a cheese sandwich. His gun is on the kitchen table
near his right hand. Shona sits opposite him; she's in bad
shape: he shoulder wound is pulling her down fast. She holds a
kitchen towel against it, which is SOAKED in dark red blood.

Caleb watches her.

                            CALEB
               Solider girl needs a hospital.

He eats a while. She won't even look at him.

                            CALEB
               So what's with all the shit?
               (indicates the cupboard with
               the drugs in it) They fuck you
               up in ragland or something?
               Wonder why you can't lead a normal
               fuckin' life? Wankers. You do
               what they tell ya an' you're
               all cool, babes. Do what you
               wanna do an' you're . . .
               (pulls his finger across his
               throat) You decorated and all
               that? I should be scared.
               (laughs) If you just knew what
               Caleb has done. Bad things,
               babes, worse than bad. Then
               you'd be scared, trust.

He eats, watches her, and waits.

                            SHONA
               What do you want?

                            CALEB
               What you think I fuckin' want?
               A teensy weensy respect would
               be nice. Failing that, this
               sarnie is really rather nice, ta.

89 | P a g e
He eats, watches her, and waits. She's bleeding to death.

She closes her eyes.

ON Shona: SOUNDS of an explosion, shouting, and Shona
screaming `Sandy!' followed by automatic weapons firing.

This BUILDS until Shona's eyes suddenly OPEN.

                             SHONA
                       (strangely calm)
               I need a doctor.

He breaks down in a fit of laughter.

                            CALEB
               She needs a doctor. Well you
               might yet, babes. We not done
               partying yet. Then maybe you
               need a doctor. First. . .

He finishes the sandwich, wipes his hands on the chair.

He looks at her body.

                            CALEB
               First I'm going to see what's
               what (indicates the house, her
               possession). Then we gonna see
               what's what (looks at her body
               suggestively). Ain't never done
               black, but there's always a first
               time ­ no? Say there's no goin'
               back. That right?

He laughs again, and then suddenly goes very serious.

                            CALEB
               You wan' it first, or you wanna
               sit tight while I go foray,
               then we get acquainted?

She fights for control. She's losing the battle.

Caleb suddenly stands, pushing the chair back. The sudden
SOUND of the chair scraping on the floor makes her start.

                            CALEB
               Oh for fuck's sake.

He goes to the medicine cupboard, gets her drugs out.

90 | P a g e
                            CALEB
               What do ya need?

He grabs various drugs and dumps them on the table in front of
her. Then fills a glass with tap water and gives her that.

                            CALEB
               Get fixed up, babes, I ain't
               got all night.

She doesn't move.

Irritated, he pours DOZENS of pills from various bottles out,
savagely, and CRAMS them into her mouth. He then forces the
glass of water to her lips and makes her take the pills.

She gasps for air. He stands over her.

                            CALEB
               She swallows. He knew she would.

                            SHONA
               You have to go now.

                            CALEB
               Fuckin' what? (laughs) Fuckin'
               what? I'll leave when it's time
               to leave, babes. First is you
               gonna show me some hospitable
               time ­ just the two of us. The
               shit (her belongings) can wait.

He goes round the table to her. The drugs start to hit her:
she fights them. She's shaking and sweating with pain from her
wounded shoulder. He caresses her cheek with his gun.

                            CALEB
               Babes ­ come on. We can be
               fuck buddies or whatever.

                            SHONA
               Friends with benefits. Yeah.

                            CALEB
               Friends with benefits. Gotcha.
               You watch all the right shows.
               No strings, no comebacks. So
               the things is: however we do
               it, Caleb's getting' horny, so . . .

He grabs her right hand and puts it on his crotch.

91 | P a g e
The drug OD begins to win the war inside Shona.

                            CALEB
               Slow and steady wins the race,
               babes. We take it easy steps.
               That's right ­ beautiful. . .

She jerks her hand away. It has to be now.

                            SHONA
               Get the fuck out of my house.

                             CALEB
               Say what?

He GRABS her by the hair, starts forcing her head towards his
crotch. With his gun hand he starts to unzip his fly.

                            CALEB
               An' me been so fuckin' la-de-
               dah with ya, and now this.
               Do what Caleb says, bitch, an'
               do it NOW . . .

As he goes to pull his pecker out she stands. As if she's had
enough of the game, she looks at him like a bug, dead already.

                            CALEB
               Sit the fuck . . .

Lightning fast, she POUNDS her index and first fingers into
his EYES, blinding him. At the same time she snap PUNCHES his
THROAT, collapsing his oesophagus completely. In less than a
second, Caleb goes from being in charge to being a grovelling,
screaming piece of crap on the floor at her feet. But now he

FIRES

His gun wildly up at her ­ anywhere. Succumbing to the drugs
she dodges as the bullets THUD into the walls and furnature.

                            SHONA
               Stop! Please . . .

She KICKS at his gun hand. It's inaccurate because now the
drugs are overwhelming her. He keeps hold of the gun ­
screaming and gasping for breath he will never draw again.

A bullet SLAMS into the wall beside her. Reluctantly she

Forces herself to FOCUS, to hold the drugs back as she

92 | P a g e
SMASHES

The back of his neck with the side of her fist. A loud

CRACK

Caleb stops moving, instantly DEAD.

Shona stands there breathing hard, trying to focus.

And then, slowly, surely the tears come. The drugs win.

A radio ad, OVER

                            AD VO #1
                             (male)
                I should cocoa, Betty.

                            AD VO #2
                            (female)
                Me too, Bill. Nighty-night. . .

The sounds of polite kissing and an inane radio ad jingle as

Shona collapses. As she loses consciousness, BLACKNESS and
the SOUND of distant, hallucinatory police SIRENS as we

DISSOLVE TO

5.125 INT. POLICE HOLDING CELL ­ DAY

The radio ad jingle and bullshit fades to SILENCE as

A year later: Shona sits looking at CAMERA. She is handcuffed.
Her face bears the scars. Her eyes in ECU: they are dark,
damaged, strong and sad. She is searching for our affirmation.

Slowly, surely we

FADE TO BLACK

END CREDITS




93 | P a g e

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