UNTITLED SCRIPT SERIES - EPISODE NINE

A WOMAN FOR ALL REASONS

BY PAUL CHANDLER AND NICK GOODMAN

EPISODE NINE: SPIN ME ROUND...

BY PAUL CHANDLER

MAIN CHARACTERS

MATTHEW - AN ASSISTANT LIBRARIAN

BOB - A DEPUTY THEATRE MANAGER

DEBS - BOB'S WIFE

AUNTIE ALICE - DEB'S AUNT

EMILY - SENIOR LIBRARY CLERK

KIRSTEN - LIBRARY CLERK

OTHER CHARACTERS - TO BE UPDATED SOON 

THE STORY SO FAR:

MATT IS TRYING TO HELP HIS BEST FRIEND, BOB, THROUGH A WRITER'S BLOCK - INVOLVING HIM IN A LOCAL MYSTERY INVOLVING AN INHABITANT WHO APPEARS TO BE OVER-150 YEARS OLD... THEY BEGIN TO PIECE TOGETHER A NUMBER OF CLUES BY SPEAKING TO A RATHER ECCENTRIC LIBRARIAN CALLED EMILY - MEANWHILE, BOB'S WIFE - DEBS - ISN'T COPING SO WELL WITH HER HUSBAND GALLIVANTING AROUND THE TOWN AT ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT AND SHE HAS CONFIDED HER CONCERNS TO HER TRUSTY AUNT ALICE... MUCH TO DEBS'S DISMAY ALICE TAKES A FAR DEEPER INTEREST IN THE WHOLE MATTER THAN HAD BEEN EXPECTED - TRACING BOB AND MATT'S FOOTSTEPS TO TRY AND DISCOVER WHAT EXACTLY THEY HAVE BEEN UP TO!


SC. 26.  BOB'S LIVING ROOM, LATE MORNING

(Back at Bob and Deb's house Matt is sitting quietly in the living room, deep in thought - he holds an old school notepad and a biro and keeps scribbling things down every minute or two; occasionally he glances out the window and down towards the back garden. It is very quiet in the house and one might almost think that he was alone - however just then in walks Bob, curious as to what his friend is up to.)

BOB: (somewhat confused)

Where's everybody gone?

MATT: (unsure)

Oh, I dunno... I really don't... I have no idea what's going on around here at the moment... To be honest I should probably go back to my flat and do some washing...

BOB:

Do you have work?

MATT: (not sounding at all guilty)

I'm on leave... It was all a bit short notice - but they were fine about it; they're always on at me to take it or I'll lose it...

BOB:

Same here... Well, there's no need for you to rush off... Hmm... I wonder where Debs is...

MATT:

Did you try calling her!?

BOB: (distracted, slightly ratty, then mellowing)

I did... Of course... No reply... I rather suspect that the ladies have their own mission...

MATT: (sounding a little cynical)

Well, yeah - except their mission originally started out as our mission - but now they seem to have taken it up as their own...

BOB: (curious for his opinion)

They do, rather; but they're not discussing it with us... So, what next?

MATT: (chuckling)

It's war!

BOB: (unsure)

Really?

MATT: (boldy, but with humour)

Of course... If they want to keep secrets then let them keep secrets - we'll just do our own thing and follow up our own leads...

BOB:

Make a competition of it, you mean?

MATT:

Maybe... I suppose so, yeah...

BOB: 

Hmm... I'm just worried that things have already got pretty heavy... This isn't a game; you must realise that after what's happened so far... What if the ladies get themselves into trouble?

MATT: (interjecting)

What if WE get ourselves into trouble for that matter ...

BOB: (nodding in agreement)

Which is probably more likely...

MATT: (resignedly)

Well, they don't seem to care much about that...

BOB: (hopeful)

Perhaps they'll change their mind and decide to share stuff in the next day or so...

MATT: (mutters)

I wouldn't bet on it...

BOB: (almost nervously)

Well, no... but... So, do we have a plan or?

MATT: (enthusiastically)

Oh yes... Yes! We have a plan!

BOB:

Thank goodness for that, at least! And what does that involve, may I ask?

MATT: (excitedly)

We're going out on the airwaves...

BOB: (taken aback)

We're doing WHAT!?!

MATT:

Hospital radio, Bob... My friend Tim fills in on a show every Wednesday... Drive-time...

BOB:

Oh... I'm not sure about that, Matt... I'm a bit nervous with speaking... Wednesday is now... Today!

MATT: (not really listening to Bob's concerns)

Yes, yes, indeed... We'll be leaving in about an hour, mate - we're going to broadcast to the nation...

BOB: (surprised)

Do that many people listen to hospital radio? Sick people, I guess...

MATT: (trying not to be too preachy)

No... No... No... You're behind the times, Bob - it's all digital; anyone can listen on the internet...

BOB: (attempting to catch up)

Oh... Okay... And then what? We're hoping that somebody out there might be able to help us with our little problem?

MATT: (confidently)

Yeah... Why not? Somebody is bound to be listening...

BOB: (slightly teasing)

Really? You sound surprisingly sure of that fact...

MATT: (assuredly)

I have a feeling, that's all...

BOB: (attempting a winning smile)

Well, I'm glad to hear it - which hopefully means that you can do all the talking, because quite frankly I have no idea whatsoever as to what we should say or what we're even looking for...

MATT: (concerned)

I hope you don't mean that, Bob...

BOB: (sounding stressed)

My head is in a complete spin, Matt - I've not been sleeping... I can't concentrate...

MATT: (taking charge)

It's fine, Bob - I know you hate public speaking... You just need to come with me for support and I'll say all the important stuff... Come on! Get that coffee drunk - get a slice of toast down your neck - get dressed and then we need to get out...

BOB: (his interest growing renewed)

Alright! Alright... Now I think about it - I have so many questions...

MATT: (pleased)

Good! You can ask them on the way there...

BOB IS ABOUT TO SPEAK - BUT MATT HAS HEADED BACK INTO THE KITCHEN...

SC. 27.  INT. THE RADIO STATION, EARLY AFTERNOON

(The scene begins at a radio station - but we do not yet recognise these characters... We meet Tim, who is the host of the show that Bob and Matt will be going on - Pam is the show's producer...)

TIM: (excitedly)

You know what, Pam - I really can't wait for tonight's episode... It'll be a good one, I think...

PAM: (chuckling)

Hmm... But don't you always say that every week, Timothy dear?

TIM: (resignedly)

Maybe... Maybe... But I mean it this time...

PAM: (bluntly)

It's just our ratings have been dropped quite dramatically of late and I can't help but think that your choice of guests has been partly responsible for this...

TIM: (hurt)

Pam! I'm shocked that you'd say that...

PAM: (trying to reason with him)

Oh - come on... You've got to admit that we've been scraping the barrel a bit of late as far as guests are concerned...

TIM: (still cross)

Well, that's charming, isn't it? When did you last invite a guest on the show?

PAM: (slightly ashamed)

Hmm... About five years ago... That chum of mine from the Teddy Bear Museum...

TIM: (calmer)

Oh yes... I remember him... Edmund something... I think I went to school with him... Still - that was a pretty interesting conversation now you remind me... But FIVE YEARS AGO!

PAM: (attempting to be helpful)

At least I'm realistic enough to realise that nobody else that I know has anything interesting to say... You need to go on social media... Set up a Facebook page or something - get people to suggest interesting people that we can have on the show...

TIM: (prickling again)

Well, if you know so much about it... And what's more - I do still have a day job to hold down; free-lance or not...

PAM: (breezily)

I don't want to start an argument - I know you're busy; aren't we all... I just think that you need to admit that the standard of guests on your show have been pretty poor of late...

TIM: (suddenly remembering)

What about Emily? She was talking about bell ringing - that was only last month ...

PAM: (trying not to sound too critical)

She was trying to crowdfund our audience to pay for the repairs to her frayed bell ropes, if you recall - that's pretty much all she went on about...

TIM: (disappointed/apologetic)

Well... If we can help... I mean at least she showed up... It gave us a show... I did try to steer the questions into slightly different areas of interest - but she kept going back to money...

PAM: (sad/attempting to reason with him)

Nonsense... Accept it; we're behind the times... Have you seen the audience download figures lately?

TIM: (dismissing her)

Oh, I never pay any attention to stuff like that...

PAM:

That's more than clear to everyone... You really should, you know...

TIM: (more level now, but still hopeful)

Well, maybe I should... Anyway... I don't know why you're so worried - I can vouch for the guys that are coming tonight - I've known them for decades; more of less...

PAM: (her interest piqued) 

You KNOW them? You never said that...

TIM: (slightly vague)

Yeah... Yeah... Went to college with them - night class - film studies - about 20 years ago...

PAM:

Oh... So is that what you'll be talking about? Old films or something?

TIM:

I'm not really sure, to be honest... We haven't really discussed it...

PAM: (frustratedly)

You invited them as guests - but you never discussed what you're going to talk about? You do know that we start the show in less than an hour...

TIM: (beginning to ramble)

Sure... Sure... Well, originally I had planned just to make tonight's show me reading some of my poems interspersed with a few song choices by listeners - but then I got this email from Matt asking if I had a free guest slot for tonight... I emailed him a couple of months ago suggesting that he come on - maybe with Bob but I hadn't heard from him; he's always pretty busy...

PAM: (coolly)

How accommodating of you...

TIM: (with wavering positivity)

Well, I guess Matt must have something exciting to say if he got in touch like this...

PAM:

We can only hope so...

TIM: (finally losing his temper)

I don't know why you're being like this, Pam - is this some kind of passive aggressive way of telling me that someone somewhere involved in this station doesn't want me here any more; you for instance...

PAM: (remaining relatively calm)

I never said that, Tim dear... But believe me when I say that there are people out there who have an eye on your show - this radio station even; people with ambition and quite probably more money than sense...

TIM: (pushy)

You know something... What's going on here!?

PAM: (cutting him off)

I don't want to discuss it... I should probably leave you to choose your records now...

TIM: (calling after her - still annoyed)

You do know that we went digital about five years ago, right?

(But Pam does not reply - she heads for the door saying nothing - Tim looks distressed)

PAM... PAM!!! PAM!?! HEY... WHAT DO YOU KNOW?

(But there is no reply)

SC. 28.  INT. RADIO STUDIO, LATE AFTERNOON

(Meanwhile, Bob and Matt are arriving just outside - Matt is driving and parks in one of the designating parking spaces set aside for visitors to the radio station)

MATT: (apologetically)

I'm afraid we're a little early...

BOB: (positive)

Better late than never, I guess...

MATT:

I'm sorry... Attack of the nerves...

BOB: (surprised)

What are you nervous about exactly?

MATT: (with nervous excitement)

Oh... You know... It's the radio... It's a big deal... I don't want to come over sounding stupid...

BOB: (slightly sarcastically)

Are you sure this is a good idea, mate? I mean - if it makes you so nervous; it can't be good for the blood pressure...

MATT: (not noticing the sarcasm and responding unaware)

No, no... Not at all... I'll be just fine... After all you'll be there to encourage me...

BOB: (distracted)

I hope you don't expect me to say much... I'll nod and smile - but that's about it...

MATT: (taking his turn to be sarcastic!)

Which always works so well on the radio, of course...

BOB: (casually)

Oh well, you know what I mean - I'll make all the right approving sounds and maybe grunt a bit - introduce myself if I really must - that sort of thing...

MATT:

You're a pal, Bob - how WOULD I do it without you?

BOB: (distracted)

I'm not sure you'd notice if I was there or I wasn't - to be honest... Uh oh... I can feel vibrations!

MATT: (surprised)

That's weird... So can I... It's my phone, I think - at least I hope it is...

BOB: (in agreement)

Mine too...

THEY BOTH TAKE OUT THEIR MOBILE PHONES - HOLDING THEM OUT IN FRONT OF THEM - STARING AT THE LIT SCREENS - NEITHER MAN ANSWERS THEIR DEVICE...

MATT: (curious)

Who is it? Debs?

BOB: (with a grin)

Yes! How did you guess?

MATT: (drily, with a chuckle)

How did I guess that it's your wife calling you, Bob? Why! I'm clairvoyant!

BOB: (distracted)

I'm not sure who's calling me... It's a library number...

MATT:

To be fair we're actually really busy right now - we probably ought to go into the station...

BOB: (with a grin)

After all - that's what an answer phone is for... Taking messages...

MATT: (cutting the phone ring off)

DONE!

BOB: (nervously)

Debs is going to kill me... Done! I'm switching it off...

MATT:

Just say you had no reception...

BOB:

If she needs me she knows where I am... She'll probably ring the station in the middle of the show to ask what I want for dinner - just to irritate me...

MATT:

We can only hope... (he nods towards the station) Shall we go in?

BOB: (gingerly)

Go on then... Let's...

AFTER A MOMENT THE TWO OF THEM HEAD FOR THE ENTRANCE - PAM IS WATCHING THEM FROM HER OFFICE, TIM GREETS THEM AT THE DOOR - BUT SOMEBODY ELSE IS ALSO WATCHING FROM THE CAR PARK - FILMING EVERYTHING WITH A PHONE... 

END OF EPISODE NINE

It took me a while to get down to writing this episode after I'd received episode eight - partly because I was busy with my podcast and partly because about four different books that I had been working on for 2-3 years which all came close to being completed around the same time during the summer of 2018. In the end I finished the third scene on Tuesday 21st August 2018 before sending it on to Nick. I decided that I'd like to set the episode at a radio station because around this time I was reading my poems on our local Radio Wey every other month. The character of Pam was named after Pam Goodman, Nick's mum - because she sadly passed away during the time that I was writing this episode and I wanted to somehow mark that in the script. The end of the episode reminds me a little of the end of episode 1 of Dr Who's Greatest Show In The Galaxy - in which the Doctor and his companion, Ace are about to enter the Psychic Circus - unsure what lies ahead of them; whereas here Matt and Bob aren't quite sure what lies in store within the radio station.

UNTITLED SCRIPT SERIES - EPISODE EIGHT

A WOMAN FOR ALL REASONS

BY PAUL CHANDLER AND NICK GOODMAN

EPISODE EIGHT: I HEARD A RUMOUR...

BY NICK GOODMAN

MAIN CHARACTERS

MATTHEW - AN ASSISTANT LIBRARIAN

BOB - A DEPUTY THEATRE MANAGER

DEBS - BOB'S WIFE

AUNTIE ALICE - DEB'S AUNT

EMILY - SENIOR LIBRARY CLERK

KIRSTEN - LIBRARY CLERK

OTHER CHARACTERS - TO BE UPDATED SOON 

THE STORY SO FAR:

MATT IS TRYING TO HELP HIS BEST FRIEND, BOB, THROUGH A WRITER'S BLOCK - INVOLVING HIM IN A LOCAL MYSTERY INVOLVING AN INHABITANT WHO APPEARS TO BE OVER-150 YEARS OLD... THEY BEGIN TO PIECE TOGETHER A NUMBER OF CLUES BY SPEAKING TO A RATHER ECCENTRIC LIBRARIAN CALLED EMILY - MEANWHILE, BOB'S WIFE - DEBS - ISN'T COPING SO WELL WITH HER HUSBAND GALLIVANTING AROUND THE TOWN AT ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT AND SHE HAS CONFIDED HER CONCERNS TO HER TRUSTY AUNT ALICE... MUCH TO DEBS'S DISMAY ALICE TAKES A FAR DEEPER INTEREST IN THE WHOLE MATTER THAN HAD BEEN EXPECTED - TRACING BOB AND MATT'S FOOTSTEPS TO TRY AND DISCOVER WHAT EXACTLY THEY HAVE BEEN UP TO! 

SC. 23.  DEB'S LIVING ROOM, DAY

(It is morning at long last. Deb is slumped in a chair asleep, so tired she never made it to bed. Alice enters in a dressing gown, fresh as a posy and holding a cup of tea which she offers to Deb. She shakes her niece awake with her free hand)

ALICE:   Wakey, wakey, sleepy bunny. I've brought you a cuppa.

DEB:  (Stirring, stretching) uh wah! What time is it?

ALICE:  7 O'clock.

DEB: Oh Aunty, I've only been asleep two hours!

ALICE:  We've work to do.

DEB:  Oh dear, have we?

ALICE:  My grey matter has been buzzing after last night.

DEB:  (Hugging a pillow) It’s like a bad dream We should never have got involved!

ALICE:  There are still questions to be answered. Where do you keep your laptop?

DEB:  (Without looking up) Oh is that all, I could have told you that any time. It’s in the cupboard by the telly. What are you doing?

ALICE:  That message. We must decode it. I have the oddest feeling if the police haven't finished with us, neither have other people.

(Matt enters in a dressing gown, half asleep)

DEB:  Oh Matt, be a love and make us some breakfast. Bacon and eggs? It’s all in the fridge.

MATT:  Yes me lady!

(Matt walks sleepily back out to the kitchen. He and Bob pass, barely aware of each other. He too is zonked)

ALICE:  (Reaching into the cupboard and pulling out the laptop) Bob, spare room. Deb still has a Girl Guide book I gave her

(Looking at Deb)

At least I think you have.

(Debs nods)

Please can you go and get it.

BOB:  Whatever for?

ALICE:  (Sitting at the table and switching on the laptop) You’ll see.

(Bob stumbles off)

DEB:  “Whatever for?” would be my question too!

ALICE:  (Impatiently, signing in) Morse code. It’s from the same time as our friend Miss Walsh.

DEB:  (Moving closer) Did you know her?

ALICE:  Mmm?

DEB:  Aunty, you seem to be throwing yourself into this mystery. When you talked to that crystal set that send CB curly wurly...

ALICE:  Yes?

DEB: Well, you seemed to know who you were talking to.

ALICE: (Feigning innocence) Did I?

(Alice turns back to the computer as she logs on)

Well I'm like that. I'm well-disposed to people. Even the great disembodied.

(Bob enters with a moth-eaten Girl Guiding book and place sit on the table)

BOB: There it is. I don't know why, but there is it.

ALICE:  Splendid. It’s for Morse Code.

BOB:  But are you sure it was?

ALICE:  (Holding up fingers in the Girl Guide salute) What do you think?

DEB:  Is the Internet on, love?

BOB:  It's never off, you make sure of that.

DEB:  Good isn’t it? That Aunty and I are helping with your mystery.

BOB:   Actually Deb, to tell you the truth..

ALICE:  Yes...

BOB:  Nothing. I'll just check Facebook on my phone

DEB:  Matt is making us all a spot of breakfast. (Stretching) Can we put the news on, Aunty?

ALICE:  (Staring hard at the laptop screen) No! I need absolute quiet to concentrate. Now, with luck, my email will have come through.

BOB:  (Looking up) Email?

DEB: Yes. I did tell you last night. Before we were herded away. Aunty emailed herself the sound file to her Google account then deleted the original.

BOB:  Ah, we hoped you'd do something like that.

ALICE:  Then we must delete this version after we decoded it.

BOB:  Because of the police?

ALICE:  I think they will be licking their wounds after last night. Contrary to popular belief, they do need a valid reason to burst in.

BOB: So we're safe.

ALICE:  No one is safe online any more. Security, Malaware, the whole boiling lot. I get the distinct impression there is someone very clever on our trail.

DEB: Who?

ALICE:  Well, I wouldn’t trust that madam Emily. Bit tool sharp for her own good that one. I'd like to know what's she up to.

BOB:  We’re way ahead of her, that's for sure.

DEB:  I wonder.

ALICE:  (Reaching here emails and opening them) Here we are.

(Clicking the vital email)

Sound file. It’s okay. Now Deb, I need something to write with.

BOB:  (Passing Alice a pen) Allow me!

(Alice takes the pen and clicks in)

ALICE:  Right, total silence whilst I listen

(The audio file sounds out. There is a crackle and oscillation and the sound of a Morse beat can be heard. Alice scribbles down what she hears, referencing the book. There is a notification sound alert from Bob’s phone. Alice hisses as she writes. A few seconds later, Matt drops something hot in the kitchen and expletives can be heard. Alice mutters “Silence” under her breath. The message continues for several minutes. Then it stops. Alice scans through what she has read and double checks with her Guide book)

BOB:  (To Deb) Can we talk yet?

ALICE:  (Absorbed by her work) No, I’ll say when.

(Deb and Bob exchange “That told us” looks and Alice studies what she has put down. More mobile notification alerts sound out)

Bob!

BOB: I can’t help it! The world and his wife seem to have sent me a message. I’ll put it on silent.

(Matt comes through the door with cooked breakfast)

MATT:  Come and get it!

(Everyone shushes Matt, who shrugs and put the plates on the table)

Well, I’m starting.

(Bob and Deb move to the table and start to eat, all the time watching Alice. She eventually turns, her face creased in thought)

ALICE:   Okay, it goes something like this…”…Why else would I be doing this. I am the life blood and the pulse. I need you. Lots of eyes but not many hearts. Everyone wants but not many give. I am reaching. The way is fuzzy. Who is that man? What does he want? Lead. Follow. There is a world to hold together. Above all, avoid…”

(There is a stunned silence)

DEB:  Avoid what?

ALICE:  That’s when Madam arrived with the police.

(More thoughtful faces)

Well, leave some brekkers for me.

(Alice joins them at the table. A curious Bob is checking Facebook on his phone)

DEB:  Bob! Manners! Can’t you just eat!

BOB:  Sorry I just want to see who needs me so badly (Checking) Friend request! Dozens of them! Who are these people? Never heard of them. There aren’t even any mutual friends. Do I know a Georgio?

SC. 24.  REFERENCE LIBRARY, DAY

(Back to the library. Emily is sat at her desk, glaring at her computer, very tired and very fed up. She mutters to herself and hops between Goggle and social media. Neville, head librarian, pops his head round the door of his office. He is a non-descript, worried looking man in his early fifties)

NEVILLE:  Emily, you’re not using Facebook again. I want that cataloguing finished today. You’ve had three weeks.

EMILY:  (Without looking up) That’s why Kirsten was seconded to us.

NEVILLE:  (Closing his eyes) Not quite.

EMILY:  Well why else is she with us?

NEVILLE:  (Tightly) She is supposed to be doing all the tasks that haven’t been attended to since…since you’ve been promoted!

EMILY: (A little too hotly and a little too loudly) Look, this is important. There is something I’m missing!

NEVILLE:  (Raising an eyebrow) Research?

EMILY:  Yes, if you like!

(Many of the silent readers sshhh Emily. But one or two remain looking at her, a look of curious recognition coming over them)

NEVILLE:  I’ll leave you to it.

(Neville disappears into his office. Emily looks at two simultaneously displayed screens, one to the other in mounting bafflement, alarm and frustration. She fails to notice a figure enter the library: shades, raincoat, trilby, trying and failing to look inconspicuous. The figure moves stealthily around the wall of the room until it reaches Emily’s desk. It then ducks down under her desk and shuffles to towards her. Only then does she notice it)

EMILY: Can I help you?

(The figure hurriedly removes its sunglasses. He is an arrogant looking, finely boned man in his mid-20s. Emily recognises him instantly and warms into a smug smile)

MAN:  (Harsh whisper) It’s me!!

EMILY:  Well, well, well! So you’ve got interested in reading again have you?

MAN:  You’ve got to help me!

EMILY:  You ran away remember. Not up to it. It was all too freaky.

MAN: This is different, my whole world has gone mad!

EMILY: Go and read something. I’m not interested!

MAN: I’ve had death threats!!

EMILY:  (Interested, despite herself) Really? Why?

MAN:  People know I’m involved. Or was involved. They know everything about me!

EMILY:  What are you babbling about?

MAN:  Death threats from the parents of girls I’ve worked with.

(Emily ducks under the desk and the two confront face to face on haunches, talking in arch whispers)

EMILY:  Girls? Oh you mean your filmic exploits. I know about that.

MAN:  How for Pete’s sake?

EMILY:  Too freaky was it? In too deep? I don’t think so. The police had you by the balls over your films. That’s why you got out.

MAN:  But how did you find out about that?

EMILY:  Kirsten told me.

MAN:  And who is Kirsten?

EMILY:  If you take so little interest in your groomed stars, its little wonder their parents aren’t happy!

MAN:  What does she look like?

EMILY:  Shortish, spiky hair, Kiss T shirt

MAN:  Oh yes. Right snotty cow. Mind you, get that T-shirt off and…

(Emily slaps the man)

EMILY:  Far too much data. What are you doing here?

MAN:  How did all this get out? I didn’t say anything. Did you? What did Kirsten do, go to the paper???

EMILY:  Don’t be a fool. She only told me to score a point off me. She’s like that. She certainly wasn’t proud of it.

MAN:  Oh… so what’s going on? People seem to know about the films. The wrong kind of people. They know I was involved in the Walsh hunt. What has happened?

EMILY:  (Letting go the smug for a moment) I don’t know. I’ve had a stream of messages about it too. A select number of people seem to know all about us.

MAN:  Oh hell, what am I going to do? I’m the Marquis of Hamilton. I can’t have death threats!

EMILY:   Pull yourself together, man!

MARQUIS:  What’s happened to us?

EMILY:  Somehow we seem to have become online stars. (Moving closer) Our live are known. Someone is watching us.

MARQUIS:  Has anyone ever told you, you have a lovely complexion.

(Emily slaps the Marquis and hold him by the chin like a Victorian urchin)

EMILY:   You can leave that at the door. Now listen, I can get you out of this. It’s lucky for you I need friends right now.

MARQUIS:  But you got me into this!

EMILY:  The death threats would have happened anyway. You’re randy and careless. You thought with your knob and now someone has got hold of it. You are going to do as I say. You are going to sell your soul to me. You are going to man up!

MARQUIS:  I’m surprised you haven’t got someone else helping you.

EMILY:  There were two of them. They were coming along nicely. Then a wife got involved. Worst still an aunt got involved.

MARQUIS:  Never a good idea.

EMILY:  They cocked everything up and got away with information I needed.

MARQUIS:  What do you want?

EMILY:  I want it back.

MARQUIS:  Just like that?

EMILY:  Just like that, your Grace. You’ve got my number?

MARQUIS:  Of course (Checking a pocket diary) Ah no.

(Emily scribbles down her number on a Post-It and thrusts it into the Marquis’ top pocket)

EMILY:  I’m disappointed, your Grace. You’ve got to learn to treat women with respect. Starting with Miss Walsh. Now go to it.

(The Marquis goes to leave then Emily pulls him back)

We can turn this round very nicely. Give the public what they want.

MARQUIS:  (Head in hands)  Don’t say that word “public”.

(The Marquis gets up from under the desk, hastily puts his shades back on and makes urgently for the door. Emily also rises from under the desk and relaxes. She faces a middle aged woman at the desk who has been waiting for ages for attention)

EMILY:  Yes, can I help you?

WOMAN:  I’m trying to return this book but the check-in doesn’t work.

EMILY: What makes you say that?

WOMAN: There was no bleep when I put the book under the scanner.

EMILY:  Oh you’ve brought it back haven’t you? Just go “Bleep”.

(The woman looks nonplussed. Emily bursts out laughing, enthused by her change of fortune)

Can you believe him? What is he going to do? That was the Marquis of Hamilton, you know.

(Raising her voice to the room in general)

And I know you know!

(To the woman)

Bleep?

WOMAN:   (Utterly bewildered) Bleep.

SC. 25.  PLAY-ALL-DAY NURSERY. DAY

(The once proud Rook Theatre is now a day centre for pre-school children. Its doors are open and children with their parents are walking in. Its Victorian architecture now looks bizarre with a brightly coloured and sterile interior environment. Just outside the front door is a large oak tree. A bedraggled CB and Darcy lie asleep underneath it. As they pass, some of the parents look on in distain, some with amusement. CB’s slumped form is gently nudged by a tiny hand. CB stirs and wakes. Standing over him is Chloe, a happy looking four year old girl. Standing behind her is Miss Jameson, a perky nursery teacher, who hands Chloe a bowl of hot porridge.)

MISS JAMESON:  (To Chloe) Go on Chloe, don’t be shy.

CHLOE:  (To CB) Good morning. Would you like some breakfast?

(CB groggily raises himself on one arm, taking in his observers)

CB: Breakfast? Oh er yes. Thank you.

(CB takes the bowl)

Who are you then?

CHLOE:  (after a few shy seconds) Chloe.

MISS JAMESON:  (To CB) That’s confidential. You don’t need to know that.

CB:  (To Miss Jameson) Don’t I?  (To Chloe)  To hell with conversation then, eh Chloe. Not to mention “Don’t talk to strangers!”

(CB pokes Darcy awake)

(To Darcy)  Oi come on you, we’re being fed!

(Darcy wakes with even more disorientation)

MISS JAMESON:  (To CB)  Enjoy your nutritious meal, sir. After you’ve finished, just pop in, I have a few forms for you to fill in.

(Miss Jameson ushers a giggling Chloe away and they both go indoors).

(CB digs into his porridge with the provided spoon while Darcy levers himself up)

DARCY:  What happened?

CB:  You already told me. The Tories closed it down.

DARCY:  No I mean last night?

CB:  I think we had a noglet too much under this tree in the wee small hours.

DARCY:  How undignified!

CB:  Never mind, they fed us. That was Chloe, you know.

DARCY:  What is it?

CB:  Porridge.

DARCY:  Revolting.

CB:  Too damn working class for you. And I thought actors worried where the next meal was coming from!

DARCY:  Lidls I expect. Why give us brekkers?

CB:  (Scoffing porridge) Look, it might have been closed down by greedy capitalists but these days it’s been colonised by do-gooders.

(CB finishes his porridge and places the spoon in the empty bowl)

But never mind about that. We have a job to do.

DARCY:  What?

CB:  That plaque, man. You said it was in this building (Pointing at the nursery)

DARCY:  Well I suppose it still is. But won’t it look dodgy if we just waltzed in?

CB :  (Getting to his feet, dusting himself off) Ah no, “Miss” has invited us in. Something about forms to fill in.

DARCY:   Probably some security crap.

CB:  Receipt of porridge. That’s our ticket in.

(Helping Darcy up, CB makes for the front entrance. Darcy follows behind him. They wade through arriving children. A slight bend past the main entrance brings them to the old ticket office. Only its Victorian facia remains. Inside the office are dozens of coloured inflatable balls. Darcy reacts in shock)

DARCY:  Sacrilege!!

CB:  Helium more like.

DARCY:  Poor Jack would turn in his grave.

CB:  Well he certainly wouldn’t be able to sit anywhere. Now where’s the plaque?

DARCY:  Every season we would come up to Jack at this desk and ask him what’s on this season. What can we go for?

CB:  So?

DARCY:  If we liked it, we would kiss the nearest performer.

CB:  Jack remained firmly behind the glass I take it.

DARCY:  Her never left his station. But if we didn’t like what was on offer, we turned at spat behind us – it was a kind of actors’ ritual - and the plaque was put where we spat!

CB:  Quite charming. So that means it’s behind us.

(They turn. Behind them is the plaque at knee level. Unfortunately it is obscured by a boy of three chatting animatedly to an unseen companion. Language unknown)

I didn’t expect a queue.

(Miss Jameson trots towards them, clipboard in hand)

MISS JAMESON:  Coooee! I’ve got the forms.

CB:  (Taking the clipboard and studying the forms attached to it) Oh good. Tell me (Pointing to the boy) Can anyone join in this conversation?

MISS JAMESON:  That’s Christopher and his imaginary friend. They seem to like that corner.

DARCY:  Christopher or his friend? You encourage imaginary friends?

MISS JAMESON:  Oh yes. It increases their social skills.

CB:  (Reading the forms) Tell me, do imaginary friends have to be safe-guard checked these days?

MISS JAMESON:  There’s no need to be facetious!

CB:  You may laugh (Pausing only to look at a not-laughing Miss Jameson)  ..but give it time! (Looking closer at form)  It says here we are persons of no fixed abode!

MISS JAMESON: Yes?

DARCY:  Homeless?

MISS JAMESON:  Yes?

CB: (With disgusted resignation) Oh well, we might as well be, the pair of us. What is this by the way?

MISS JAMESON:  (Proudly) It’s part of Chloe’s Citizenship Merit Profile.

CB:  For the love of Gertrude! She can only be about four!! Does she understand a word of that?

MISS JAMESON:  That’s not really the point is it?

(A gushing young mother suddenly comes up to CB)

MUM:  I thought you were wonderful last night. You were so dominant in the pub. Can’t wait to see what happens next!

(Darcy and Miss Jameson look on amazed. The Mum dances away down the corridor, chatting excitedly to her child)

DARCY:   Well you’re a dark horse. You were wonderful last night, were you?

CB:  I was not! I was humiliated, dirtied and with my feet in a bucket. You were there! I’ve never seen that woman before in my life!

(Miss Jameson takes the completed form on its clipboard from CB, looking unsure of herself)

MISS JAMESON:  Well I mustn’t detain you.

(Miss Jameson taps Christopher on the shoulder and ushers him away)

Come along Christopher, you’ll see Miss Walsh at break time.

(Christopher waves to his invisible friend and allows himself to be led away down the corridor with Miss Jameson. CB and Darcy exchange “Oooh that was a clue” looks then dash for the vacated corner. CB takes out an eye glass and examines the plaque)

CB:  (Reading) “Constance Louisa Patience Walsh. Patron and mother to the Arts, owner of the Rook Theatre.

(To Darcy) She owned you, Darcy!

(Back to plaque) Your legacy feeds the soul and cheers the intellect”. Bit florid isn’t it.

(Swinging round on Darcy)

Dates! There are no bloody dates. You’ve wasted my time!

DARCY:  Now wait a minute

(Marching up the plaque and examining it)

This is new one! Someone has changed it!

CB:  What do you mean?

DARCY:  Look at it! I’d say this was no more than ten years old.

CB:  So the other one was scrapped?

DARCY:  Don’t look at me. I’ve not seen this gaff since the 80s.

CB:  (Getting up in haste) Let’s get out of here. We have some council heads to knock together.

(As the two turn, they face Kirsten, looking astonished at them. She is not the bored, despondent or aggressive Kirsten as before. She is serious and self-conscious. At her heels is a boy toddler)

KIRSTEN:  Oh it’s you. Hello.

CB:  Young Kirsten. What brings you here?

KIRSTEN:  Well (Looking down at the boy) I have a two year old. Emily doesn’t know. She’d get funny with me. You don’t know her. She’d be a cow about it.

DARCY:  Our lips are sealed young lady.

KIRSTEN:  Promise you won’t tell? What brings you here?

CB:  (Pointing to the wall) The plaque down there. It’s that Walsh woman. I thought it might give us a clue to where she is or who she is.

DARCY:  Or even if she is!

KIRSTEN:  (Suddenly frightened) You don’t know do you? You don’t know what’s happened?

(Two more mums pass by, staring at Kirsten, noticing her as if for the first time. They go saucer eyed with recognition. Kirsten flinches)

CB:  What’s wrong?

KIRSTEN:  We’re being watched! Somehow. By the public. Internet I think. It’s gone viral WE HAVE GONE VIRAL!

(Picking up her boy) I wanted Lewis kept out of this. You’re brought them here, haven’t you!! Just go now, please just go!!!

(Kirsten hurries down the corridor with Lewis in her arms, upset. CB and Darcy look gravely at each other then follow)

END OF CHAPTER 8

FACT FILE

Work on chapter eight was heavily delayed by work on a long term book project that was coming to an end. I began planning the chapter in early February 2018 on a week off from work. The legacy of Chapter Seven is the revelation that our protagonists are being watched. I was keen to develop this, with a different example of it in every scene. Scene 25 cheats a little in being set both just outside and just inside the nursery. Were it a stage, the scenery could have easily presented both as the actual area is in close proximity.

With Emily and Kirsten’s story having come to a stop in Chapter Six, I was keen to take them in a new direction so they could still contribute to the story. I thought it was time we met The Marquis who once becomes Emily’s tool. Also to see a vulnerable side to Kirsten as she fears for her own privacy as “Big Brother” – or rather online – is watching them. Miss Jameson is named after the actress Louise Jameson whose first TV role was as a school teacher in Cider With Rosie.

Heavy snow and a couple more days off ensured I wrote the last two scenes at home, finishing the hand written draft on Monday 5^th March. I enjoyed it very much and look forward to the next instalment!