Life’s ups and downs have taken my time and energies but I am ready to move on and continue what we started.

Over the next few months we look forward to publishing work by anyone wanting to share in our renewed vision and provide a platform to share creative ideas and viewpoints. To become involved anew please make contact.

Comment here or to robbe.law at gmail dot com .

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mighty forces are gathered,
pitched and tossed,
whirling dervish like.
winds howling, spray dancing
across virgin land.
quenching the earth,
flora and fauna blossoming
amidst the skirmish.

on and on relentless in their quest,
they push and pull,
striving to reach their goal.
some falling by the way,
seeking their holy ground.
desperately searching,
forging ever onward,
looking to be found.

and finally, the turgid waters cease,
as they reach their zenith,
the nadir of their being,
gently strolling through
valley and meadows,
whispering softly to the trees.
animals greet them warmly
as they plod,
on the shore of the river.

The post on the shore of the river appeared first on ScribblePool.

It was the conversation about the greenhouse, I remember it well. You are forever throwing at me in the heat of an argument that I’m pedantic, or I’m asking too much that people should be that precise in their conversation or in their responses, but in reality I do actually recall every word that is said. It’s more of a curse than a blessing, and one I often try to obliterate through sedative amounts of drinking, although inevitably I find losing the ability more frustrating than having it but not being believed. Oh, I know that there are careless words and times when people say things in the heat of the moment, but people tend to remember what they meant, you know? Rather than what they actually said? They forget the role of the listener in the conversation, and how the filters of their experience and emotions can completely skew the most innocent of remarks; there’s no such things as a flawless conversation.

Which leads me to the joke.

It started as a joke, the joke… I was playing a joke by telling a joke, though not feeling either jocular or jocund- in fact, I suspect my intent was positively predatory; a feline, prowling attempt to set a trap and lay in wait.  I told it to see what would happen. I told it because you’d not listened earlier, when I talked about what we were having for tea, then you’d nodded absently through the conversation about my mum and the weekend, then, finally, completely blanked me when I mentioned the greenhouse and the cracked pane. I just, slowly… snapped.

I told it quickly, and quietly, certain you were not listening. You were sitting on the sofa. You were watching tv- Friends, I think, the one with the cheesecake. Usually I would start a conversation by trying to attract you; calling  your name, or saying, ‘Hey, you know what?’ or something equally mundane until you gradually turned your eyes back to me, sometimes even your attention, before I spoke. The number of times I’ve been in the middle of reading a book, or even online meetings with friends, and you’ve launched into something, not appreciating the depth of my ability to concentrate, then looking aggrieved when I’ve asked you to repeat what you’ve said. So, for once, I returned the favour.

“What,” I said, without preamble, “do you call a man with a spade in his head?”
Your body twitched slightly and I quickly said, “Doug”, leaned as if to stand up and followed with, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

You did appear slightly confused, but, predictably, your only response was to say yes to the tea.

Gradually over the next few weeks it became a game. I would tell you the same joke…  as we were rushing out of the door to my parents house… have you locked the back door…spade in his head…  Doug … have you got your keys… all shouted in the same voice, every time roundly ignored. I would shout it from the kitchen, down the garden as you swept the leaves, round the shops with the trolley… do we need more… what do you call… coffee… a man with a… yeah, that one’s fair trade… spade in his head?

I started counting how many times I’d told you. It was becoming an obsession.

I whispered it to you when you fell asleep on the sofa. I talked through the bathroom door at you, knowing you couldn’t have heard me if you’d had a stethoscope pressed to the door, but telling it nonetheless. I wrote it on the notice board in the kitchen, then meticulously partially covered it with magnets supporting jaggedly cut coupons and impossible recipes from the veg box.

I mailed it to you. Coded, of course, split into tiny segments forwarded in an email containing a thousand ‘this is really funny’s and ‘pass it on or else’s, an email of some poor cow’s uncovered secret romance, or a fake divorce letter from a bloke called John. Hilarious. I was thorough, pieced every word in, every time.

One time I even told your mum. You were out when she rang. I told it her straight, no messing around with it. She seemed a little bemused, but thought it was funny enough. Ironically, I don’t tell jokes all that often, or that well for that matter, so her confusion was understandable.

Then on Thursday the twenty seventh, you laughed. Six fifteen at night.

I’d told you it twice that day already; once in the phone call I’d made while you were on your way home, the noise of the car covering most of the lines, and earlier, at lunchtime, in reply to the ‘ten cutest pictures of puppies’ email you’d sent me. I wasn’t sure you’d actually read the mail, but I allowed myself to include it in the total.

I guess I got careless. I didn’t realise Friends was on the repeated repeats on channel recurring plus one, so you’d watched it an hour ago. I didn’t realise you’d just stubbed your toe on the table as you sat down. The three hundred and twenty first time I told you the joke, I didn’t realise you were actually listening.

Your laugh was like an electric shock. I jumped. The hairs on my arm prickled. I burned, with an unreasonable, childish anger. Weeks and weeks of pent up anticipation, frustration, indignation, crystallised into a single, poisonous emotion that cursed through me just as though I’d drunk it straight from a Shakespearean apothecary’s vial. I stood. Slowly. And walked from the room.

That should have been an end to it. I should have lost my temper, told you how many times I’d said it, made my high and mighty point about how little you listened. But I found I just couldn’t let it go. I would post it on your facebook wall, tell  it to your friends, your workmates. I would write it in joint birthday cards to nephews and brothers; you would raise your eyebrows, but I would shoot back, “Well, you found it funny… eventually….” You started cringing when I said ‘what’ in that particular tone, and then you gradually started noticing it in emails, in texts, in cryptic notes I left you on the fridge. I think the worst was when I pretended to be the bank, writing about our overdraft. The bank manager’s name wasn’t Doug. I knew you knew.

You tried to distract me, mend things, offered holidays and parties, clothes trips and presents. You begged me to get help, talk to someone. You offered to go to therapy with me. But it was too late. I didn’t want you to listen any more. All I could think about was the next time I would be able to tell you; the next time I could prove to myself you weren’t listening. The next time I could prove to myself I was right.

It was Sunday the third when you left. Quickly and quietly. The silence was excruciating.
Three weeks later, on the Wednesday, I got a postcard. From Spain.

Signed  ‘Doug-less.’

I just might die with a smile on my face, after all

Saz

The post That Joke isn’t Funny Any More appeared first on ScribblePool.

Right now she was in the middle of the dance floor at Kuban Krisis and she was shakin her booty with a total abandon that only comes via cheap drinks. Along with her friends she had consumed several jugs of Strawberry Daiquiris, two Wallbangers and had a Quick one Between the Sheets for good measure. The usual crowd of leches were milling round the edges eying up all the talent and making inane comments. Normally Hannah would treat them to a look of ice and simply blow them off making them shrivel up into some dark corner. Apparently though, there was something different about tonight. As she looked over at the rabble the smile went from her face, she stopped dancing, turned towards the leering idiots who had made lewd comments about her ice-maiden looks and marched over to give them an earful.

Her friends saw what was going down but they carried on dancing as she walked away. They were all a bit pissed and they were laughing, partly because of the booze, partly because of the look on Hannah’s face.  The guys were fidgeting and laughing nervously as if they didn’t know where to put themselves and they tried to avoid Hannah’s ice-cold gaze, even though, as one of them said with a dirty lecherous laugh,

“Haha , what’s the worst she can do? … eh I ask you, after all she is only a woman?”

Others piped up feeling the strength of the mob’

“I wonder why she’s left the dance floor and is comin’ this way?”

Fuelled by the cheap booze one ‘wit’ gyrated his skinny hips and wobbling beer belly,

“Maybe she’s after some of this …. wahay ..”

Hannah stopped dead in front of the now jeering rabble casting an eye over the sad detritus and took in the sad comments.

“Never mind why she left the dance floor, what the hell is she doin outa the kitchen?

There was an uproarious hoot of laughter.

“Hey darling, get your coat, looks like you’ve pulled!”

Hannah began walking again and strode straight through the middle of the bunch enduring all the cat calls as she wiggled her hips provocatively. She didn’t stop till she had got clear of the rabble but then she halted suddenly in front of a tall dark guy leaning against a rail.

“Hello Jack. I’ve really missed you. I don’t want to do this any more.”

Jack looked her over slowly and longingly. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately.

“I’ve been  following you everywhere for the last few weeks , I can’t get you out of my head.”, said Jack with a slight grimace.

“I know”, said Hannah coyly. “I’ve seen you everywhere.”

Jack chuckled and turned to the now quiet rabble,

“Oh by the way guys, that joke isn’t funny any more. This lady is officially not on the pull, hopefully for the rest of her future.”

The post That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore appeared first on ScribblePool.

The post Welcome to our writing! appeared first on ScribblePool.

THE OFFICE – NIGHT
MICHAEL and JOHN are the only people here.
MICHAEL
I’m BORED. I’m bored bored bored.
JOHN
I’m sure you’re not.
MICHAEL
I’m so bored..
Pause
JOHN
Yes?
He waits.
Jesus!
He leans over the desk and punches MICHAEL in the chest.
MICHAEL
Agh! What? What happened?
JOHN
You’re heart stopped. I’m sorry, I should have realized.
MICHAEL
I had a heart attack?
JOHN
No because that would be interesting. Your heart grew so bored between one beat and the next that it idled and stopped. You need the League Against Boredom.
MICHAEL
Who is that?
JOHN
I’ve no idea but they left this leaflet in the toilet.
MICHAEL refuses to touch it.
MICHAEL
Ugh. Spare me your soggy loo scrapings.
JOHN
It’s quite dry. Look. Read.
He holds the leaflet up to MICHAEL’s face.
LOUD VOICEOVER
Abolish the everyday!
MICHAEL
Woah woah, too loud.
JOHN
I’m sorry. I’ll hold it further away.
QUIET VOICE OVER
Abolish the everyday. Lay siege to ennui. Are you depressed, turgid? Locked in a grey world? Join the League Against boredom and never suffer again. We will fill your life with a violent levels of interest.
MICHAEL
That sounds alright. How do I join?
JOHN
It sounds dodgy. It says on the back ‘open any door to a dark interior space between the forty third and forty fourth tick of the minute of the first minute of the day exactly.’
MICHAEL
That’s this minute!
JOHN
There’s a door over there.
MICHAEL runs to door, looks at clock.
Clock Ticks.
MICHAEL
Right .. Now!
He flings open the door.
Nothing. Just Stationary.
JOHN
No that’s the thirty third.
MICHAEL
Ok…
They wait. Hold the shot.
MICHAEL (CONT’D)
You know ten seconds a long
JOHN
Now!
MICHAEL flings open the door. Daylight comes from within. He steps through.
A BRIGHT OUTDOOR SPACE.
Maybe a Park?. Mr. Gilbert is here.
GILBERT
Welcome traveller! You who were bored ye shall be bored no more. Welcome to the League.
MICHAEL
Really? Fantastic. What do you do?
GILBERT
Today we are stealing DVD’s of Star Trek Voyager from shops and leaving them in skips.
MICHAEL
And tomorrow?
GILBERT
Tomorrow we assassinate Sir Patrick Moore and burn down the Ministry of Public Affairs.
MICHAEL
What do they do there?
GILBERT
Nothing. That’s the point.
MICHAEL
Excellent. I quite liked the Sky at night though Was like taking a warm bath … No. No. Sorry. Won’t happen again. Burn it down. Fantastic. How do I join?
GILBERT
You already have.
MICHAEL
Great, great. How do I leave?
GILBERT
Nobody does.
THE OFFICE – NIGHT
JOHN looks at the door. Walks over to it. Opens it.
Nothing. Only stationary.
JOHN
Hm
THE STREET OUTSIDE – NIGHT
JOHN walks down the street. A Tramp jumps out a him.
MICHAEL
It’s me it’s me! Keep walking. Listen!
JOHN
What happened? You look terrible.
MICHAEL
You’ve got to get me out!
JOHN
It’s only been a few minutes.
MICHAEL
Every second is a thousand years! There’s no pause, no neutral nothing. Absolute all-consuming interest in everything! One giant burning unbroken instant. Like a sneeze that goes on forever!
JOHN
God.
MICHAEL
It’s hell. They’re looking for me. I haven’t got long. You have to get me out!
JOHN
How?
MICHAEL recedes into the distance.
MICHAEL
The toilets man the toilets!
He goes into the dark.
Montage of JOHN searching various toilets. Public, Corporate e.t.c.
He picks up a piece of paper.
JOHN
Ah ha! Finally.
THE LIBRARY OF BOREDOM
Here are SLINE and possibly her helper. They are Grey people.
SLINE
So. You have found us.
JOHN
You are the League?
SLINE
The League of Boredom. Yes. The original.
JOHN
Good. Yes. Listen I have a problem.
SLINE
You are too interested. You should calm down.
HELPER
Calm down.
SLINE
Calm, down calm calm calm down down down. Yes.
JOHN
Its’ with a League.
SLINE
THEM.
JOHN
You know them?
SLINE
We war against them endlessly. They made words, we made paper. They made song, we wrote it down. They create war, we make peace. Today they killed a member of Time Team. We counter with a documentary on rain for BBC4. Did you know that the common conception of a raindrops shape is, in fact, inaccurate?
JOHN
Really? That’s .. interesting.
SLINE
It is? Hhhnnn.
JOHN
Sorry. Sorry. They have my friend.
SLINE
He has joined the League Against.
JOHN
I need to get him back. It’s terrible without, I mean it incredibly interesting without him. He was a uniquely dull man and without him my life has really taken flight.
SLINE
No.
JOHN
Yes. Will you help me?
SLINE
You must convince them that he is as we are.
JOHN
Boring.
SLINE
Beyond interest.
JOHN
Hmmm.
THE OFFICE – NIGHT
JOHN and MICHAEL are the only ones here.
JOHN
And so once I’d shot that technicolour dream rocket into the London eye and you showed no reaction, they let you go.

MICHAEL
And that’s all it took? Amazing.
JOHN
Well, you’re welcome.
They wait in silence.
MICHAEL
You know what though?
JOHN
Don’t say it.

The post The League Against Boredom appeared first on ScribblePool.

JIM

A Short Film

EXT.DAY. A park and a bench in some recent time, somewhere forgotten. We see a young HILDA in her 20’s, talking to her husband JIM, also in his 20’s.They are both clearly courting on the bench. Sounds of distant voices also somewhere and HILDA is sometimes distracted by them.

HILDA

Jim……Jim……Jim…..Jim!

JIM

Here I am Hilda. You do look lovely.

HILDA

Do I Jim? This old thing?

JIM

That old thing. Gimme a kiss lovely.

HILDA

I will, now we’re engaged. Oh Jim……Jim……Jim….

Fade scene in to a fantasy crackling picture and sound.

INT. Present. Day. HILDA’s bedroom in CHERRY RIPE nursing home.
HILDA is now in her 70’s and sitting in a chair next to the bed. DOREEN
2.

is HILDA’s daughter, in her 50’s sitting opposite the bed. JARMAN, a nurse in her 50’s is standing behind HILDA pulling her hair very tightly
into elastic bands, making a little pony tail, and HILDA’s head looking
very painful. Close up of DOREEN’s mouth chewing chewing gum and
talking at the same time. HILDA now has sever dementia and only stares
into the distance, repeating the name ‘JIM’.

DOREEN

What do you mean two for one? Like two four one? Or just two?

JARMAN

I mean two drinks for one price, a sort of cocktail, you buy one, but
get another bloody one absolutely free. How good is that!’s’

Fade away from DOREEN’s mouth to pan out all three women.

DOREEN

Cocktails! Well they’re not cheap. What can you have?

JARMAN

Well I don’t indulge in any old cocktail ‘per-soi’, but I do like a good
old champaigne cocktail if they have them on the wine list.

DOREEN

Oh, I see, well don’t they have an orgasm up the wall like, two for one?

JARMAN

Not really my cup a tea shall we say.

HILDA

Jim…….Jim……..Jim…….Jim

DOREEN

Shut up Mum, he aint here, he’s dead. Well if I can get two orgasms
up the wall for one…..I’ll be laughing. .

JARMAN

As I say…….

Suddenly the door bursts open. Enter larger than life FRED. He is a resident
at the home, also in his 70’s. He speaks directly to HILDA, and ignores everyone else.

FRED

How’s my lovely sweetheart today?

JARMAN

Mr.Jackson! You frightened the life out of me.

HILDA

Jim….Jim….Jim.

FRED

I’m not your Jim sweetheart, but it won’t be long now.

DOREEN

What won’t be long?

Fade scene. Similar picture and fantasy sound as before.

INT. EVENING. Ballroom. A forgotten time. A young JIM and HILDA close together dancing a slow waltz. Fade to fantasy sound and picture as before.

INT. Past.Day. Hospital side room .Young Doreen in pain. Baby crying.

NURSE

It’s a girl Mrs.Mooney…..it’s a girl Mrs.Mooney…it’s a girl Mrs.Mooney.

Fade scene. Fantasy sound and picture as before.

INT. DAY. Nursing home toilet. We see FRED. He closes toilet door behind him and locks it. FRED lifts up the toilet seat, removes his wig,
strokes it, kisses it before throwing it down the toilet pan. He flushes the
wig. He smiles.

FRED

We got them this time sweetheart. Tonight’s the night.

FRED rubs his hand and giggles to himself.

INT.DAY. HILDA’s room. DOREEN and JARMAN are chatting. HILDA
is now in the bed, just staring at nothing.

DOREEN

Well I have a brother in Australia, who I never see, and he never get’s in
touch, so when the time happens I am not telling him. Am I buggery.

JARMAN

That happens a lot I’m afraid. Families just neglect them. I feel sorry for
them really.

DOREEN

They are expensive these places though. We had to sell her house we did.
JARMAN’s mobile phone rings. JARMAN answers it

JARMAN

Yes…….I see….where’s the handy man?

HILDA

Jim…..Jim……Jim…….Jim.

DOREEN

Shut up mother.

DOREEN shoves a beaker of cold tea into HILDA’s mouth. HILDA splutters the tea everywhere.

HILDA

Jim…….Jim……..Jim.

JARMAN

Okay……I’ll be right down. Really have to do everything myself .

DOREEN

Mum shut up while the ladies talking.

DOREEN slaps HILDA across the hand.

JARMAN

No worries. I’m used to it. Best be off.

Fade. Similar fantasy and picture sound as before.

EXT. Day. Past. A time forgotten. Sound of a little girl crying. A younger
HILDA’s face looking down at a child DOREEN, out of shot.
HILDA
Oh Doreen…..let me rub that for you my luv……your hand?
There……there my lovely girl.

We see a young JIM comes up and stands behind HILDA.

JIM

Is my Doreen crying……no……let’s go and chase the bad man away.

JIM moves forward as if to pick up the young DOREEN.

INT.Present.Night.Nursing home toilet. It is blocked by faeces and urine.
The smell is awful. JARMAN puts on her marigolds and looks down the
pan whilst holding a large toilet brush.

INT. Night. DOREEN’S bedroom. Lights are out. Door opens slightly, and
FRED enters carrying a blanket. He walks straight to the bed and puts on
the bedside light.

FRED

Come on sweetheart….we’ve got them beat this time……..

HILDA

Jim…..Jim…..Jim.

FRED

I’m not your Jim my lovely. But we will find him. You wait and see.

HILDA

Jim…..Jim….Jim.

FRED takes the blanket and throws it round HILDA’s shoulders, moving
HILDA out of the bed.
INT. Night. Nursing home. Bottom of Staircase. FRED and HILDA are stood on the bottom step. FRED is holding HILDA.

INT. Night. Nursing home toilet. JARMAN is cleaning the loo. Suddenly
FRED appears behind her, she turns.

JARMAN

Fred! Stop creeping around. Get to bed.

FRED

Looks like a hairy job to me!

JARMAN

Go to bed.

FRED

Of course. Night.

FRED takes JARMAN’s front door keys from her uniform pocket.

INT.Night.HILDA and FRED are at the front door. FRED takes HILDA
outside.

EXT. Night. Bench in the garden. FRED and HILDA are wrapped in a blanket. It is very cold outside.
FRED

Now you’ll see him again. (Sings) Only a rose I give you………..

HILDA

Jim……Jim……..Jim.

Fade. Crackling sound and pictures as before. Mix scenes and pictures of a
time forgotton. JIM continues singing through fade out. Silence. END.

The post Jim appeared first on ScribblePool.

FADE IN:

INT. THE OFFICE – DAY

On screen : Two weeks previous. Monday

MAX (27) dressed in slacks and shirt, is in his office with two women, his personal secretary JANE, (24) short skirt and low cut top and her assistant KAREN, (19) large lady in very tight trousers and buttons which almost burst off her shirt.

A knock at the door and a woman comes in her hand a large bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates.

JANE
Ohhh… secret admirer.

Max frowns.

INT. THE OFFICE – DAY

On screen :- One week previous. Wednesday.

Max sits at his desk. Karen watches his every move, she is eats a packet of beef crisps. Max opens his mail.
Max slams the letter down on his desk.

INSERT -
Meet me at Ronnie’s restaurant at 8pm.

Its in cut out newspaper letters. Max is shocked.

MAX
(sarcastically)
Not likely… This is getting ridiculous.

Max opens another.

INSERT -
You are so sexy.

And another.

INSERT -
If you don’t meet me, suffer the consequences.

INT. THE OFFICE – DAY

On screen :- Present day.

Max looks at his watch. He then stands and puts on his jacket, he feels inside for his keys. Nothing.
Opens the top drawer and looks through it, he is puzzled.

MAX
Either of you two seen my keys.

No reply.

Max exits the office, and re-enters a moment later.

MAX
I found them, see you tomorrow.

Max exits again.

INT. OFFICE – DAY

On screen – Tuesday.

Max and Karen are in the office; Karen eats the same beef flavour crisps as before. Max relaxes at his computer when there is a light knock at the door.

A DELIVERY MAN comes in, he carries a box.

Karen looks shiftily away from Max and the box.

DELIVERY MAN
Max.

MAX
Not again.

DELIVERY MAN
Fraid so.

The delivery man sets the box down and takes out his pad. Max signs it, and the delivery man leaves.
Max stands, and carefully opens the box; he looks inside and pulls out a silk pair of underpants.

MAX
What the… …

He then pulls out a picture of himself half naked taken through his bedroom window.

MAX
Sick.

Max throws the box down and picks up the phone.

Jane enters the office.

MAX
I’d like to speak to detective Devis please. Hello… yeah another delivery. This ones worse… I want someone outside the house please… Yeah tomorrow is fine. Thank you.

Max puts the phone down.

Jane looks in the box and frowns at him.

JANE
This is freaky.

MAX
I know.

Karen sits quiet, she watches him. Watches his every move. Jane moves towards Max there is evil jealousy in Karen’s eyes She still eats, crisp after crisp.

Jane sits next to Max on his desk. Her skirt hitches up exposes her legs more.

Max’s looks at them, yet turns away.

JANE
You should go home, relax.

MAX
I think I will actually, gonna call at the pub first. Thanks.

Max stands and exits. Doesn’t look at Karen.

EXT. MAX’S FRONT GARDEN – NIGHT

Max has arrived home from the pub. While he walks up his path he sees a packet of beef crisps, and another one on the lawn, he frowns. Pauses to pick them up.

MAX
Litter bugs…

INT. MAX’S LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

Max steps into his room, he sways from the drink. He flicks on the light switch, he is immediately scared.

Red paint is spread all over the walls.

Written on it are the words.

INSERT -
If I can’t, have you. No one can.

The lights go out.

MAX
Is someone there?

A noise behind him, a key in the door.

Max turns to look, the light from the window illuminates the door. The handle turns loudly.

MAX
Look, I am armed and the police are outside.

JANE
(muffled)
Oh, I know the police aren’t outside. And you have no weapons in the house… Max.

Max backs away from the door. Trips over the coffee table. He bangs his head on the fire place, he is knocked out.

INT. MAX’S LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

Max wakes and looking up confused in the darkness can see a figure looms over him.

The figure is Jane. Jane lifts her arm, she wields an axe. Jane she strikes him, hard.

FADE OUT.

The post Obsession appeared first on ScribblePool.

:FADE IN

EXT. PIER HEAD -SAT AFTERNOON

ELLIE (mid twenties)gets out of a taxi, closes the door,
leans in and pays the driver. She crosses over the road to
the ticket office for the ferry.

ELLIE
Return to Woodside, please.

TICKET SELLER
Three seventy, please.

Ellie pays and collects her ticket

ELLIE
Thanks.

She checks her watch and walks briskly out of the terminal,
hands her ticket to the collector and heads down the ramp
towards the ferry, which approaches in the distance.

Ellie gets onto the ferry, heads up to the top deck and
finds a seat on the outside. She settles herself down. As
the ferry begins to set off she rummages in her bag and
pulls out a mobile phone, which is ringing.

ELLIE
Hello? Oh hi, Jen. Yes, I’m on
there now. Are you…. oh… you’re
not there yet? Oh ok. No, that’ll
be fine. It’s another half an hour
yet. No, I know you think that. Of
course. He’s not going to be an axe
murderer. We’ve done this already.
I don’t want to fall… look, are
you going to be there or not? Ok.
Then he’s not going to be able to
kidnap me either, is he!? Ok. Good.
Thanks. Bye.

She frowns as she looks at her phone, then emphatically
presses the ‘end’ button.

INT. CAFE -DAYTIME, AROUND A MONTH EARLIER

Ellie wipes tables. JEN (older than Ellie) stands at the
counter. One CUSTOMER drinks from a large cheap mug and
reads the paper at the table in the corner. No-one else is
there.

JEN
On the internet? Are you serious?

Ellie rolls her eyes.

ELLIE
Yes, the internet. The
superhighway. The world wide wicked
web of wonder. You have heard of
it, then?

JEN
Of course I’ve heard of it, cheeky.
I have actually got an email
address of my own, you know. It’s
jen1104 at worldmail dot c-o-m.

ELLIE
Com.

JEN
What?

ELLIE
Com. You don’t say c-o-m, you say
‘com’. Why 1104?

JEN
No idea. They just gave it me. I
guess loads more people wanted to
be Jen too. Strange thought. I’ve
never used it, mind.

ELLIE
You surprise me.

JEN
Never mind that. You’re really
going to do it on the internet?

ELLIE
Well, it’s got to be worth a try,
hasn’t it?

JEN
But what about all those
paedophiles on there?

ELLIE
I’m twenty seven, Jen. I think I’m
a little old for your average
paedophile.

JEN
You know what I mean. Kidnappers.
Axe murderers. I’ve seen the
adverts. People pretending to be
what they’re not.

ELLIE
I know. But it’s a reputable site,
it’s a well known one, and they do
a lot of checks.
(Quickly before Jen can
interrupt)
… and you don’t meet up straight
away, or anything. You have to do
things first like email and send
pictures and things. You can come
with me, if you like, spy on him.
Rescue me if I need it.

Jen looks like she’s trying to think of more objections.

JEN
Well… what’s your mum said?

Ellie pauses in her wiping, looks down.

ELLIE
I haven’t told her yet.

JEN
You haven’t told her? Oh Ellie…
you and your mum have never kept
secrets…

ELLIE
I KNOW… you don’t need to tell
me. But… this is just something I
need to do. You know, for myself.
It’s the right time. I’ll never
stop being her ‘little girl’ in her
eyes, but I’m my own woman too. I
have to make my own choices. I will
tell her. Just.. in my own time.
You won’t say anything, will you?

Jen walks over to Ellie, hugs her, but still looks worried.

JEN
Of course not, love. What sort of
aunty would I be if I just landed
you in it, eh?

EXT. FERRY -SAT AFTERNOON

Ellie stands abruptly and walks into the ferry interior. She
goes to the coffee stand, smiles at the SERVER and rummages
for her purse.

SERVER
What can I get you, love?

ELLIE
Just coffee please.

The server hands her the coffee.

SERVER
One fifty, love, please.

Ellie pays.

ELLIE
Thanks. How long to Woodside?

SERVER
About twenty minutes, now.

ELLIE
Thanks.

Ellie takes her coffee and sips a little, but it is too hot
to drink yet. She takes the lid off, blows on it and wanders
restlessly over to the edge of the ferry, watching Liverpool
retreat.

INT. CHRISTINE’S HOUSE -NIGHT, AROUND TWO WEEKS AGO

Ellie and CHRISTINE (late forties, worn out) have obviously
been arguing for a while.

CHRISTINE
I don’t care what you think, it’s
the stupidest idea I’ve heard. I
don’t know what’s got into you.

ELLIE
What’s got into me?! Mum, I’m
twenty-seven, not twelve! I’m not
taking up horse riding, or deciding
to paint my room bright pink. This
is the rest of my LIFE I’m talking
about.

CHRISTINE
The rest of your life? Is that what
you think? Anyway, I’ve seen the
stuff about people on the internet.
He could be anyone. And you’re just
going to swan off and meet him,
just like that? You’ll get yourself
murdered, and when you do…

ELLIE
Don’t come running to you?? As if I
would. And another thing. I’m
moving out.

CHRISTINE
You just don’t know what you’re
getting yourself in.. (registers
what Ellie just said) .. you’re
what?

ELLIE
You heard me. Moving out. I’m going
to live with one of my friends from
work. I’ve had it here. I need my
own space.

FRANK (fifties, comfortable looking) walks in. Ellie takes
the opportunity to storm out of the door. Frank looks at
Christine, who sort of crumples in tears on the sofa. He
goes over to her and puts his arm round her.

EXT. FERRY -SAT AFTERNOON

Ellie puts her empty coffee cup in the bin, wanders back out
the main deck and watches the other passengers. After a
while she sits, takes a compact from her bag and checks her
hair and make up. As she puts the compact back, she pulls
out an envelope, well worn, and takes out a letter and a
photograph. She turns the photograph over and looks at it
for a long time (we don’t see) and then opens the letter.

EXT. OUTDOOR COFFEE SHOP -DAYTIME, AROUND ONE WEEK AGO

Frank and Ellie are having coffee.

ELLIE
How is she?

FRANK
She’s ok. She’s just worried about
you.

ELLIE
She didn’t sound like it last time
I spoke to her.

FRANK
You’re not that daft, love. You
know it’s just her way.

ELLIE
Yeah. Well. I’m not changing my
mind.

FRANK
I know. Have you… heard anything?

ELLIE
(Hesitantly)
Well… actually… yes. I’ve had
an email.

FRANK
Oh… right… and?

ELLIE
Well… I replied. And I’ve had a
letter. And a photograph. Would
you… I mean, is it ok if I show
you?

FRANK
If you like.

Frank takes the offered envelope, pulls out the photograph,
then opens the letter. He looks anxious but says nothing as
he reads. He folds the letter up and hands it back to her.

FRANK
And are you going to? Meet him, I
mean, like he suggests? Next
Saturday?

ELLIE
I don’t know. What do you think?

FRANK
(Considers)
I don’t know why you want to do
this, but I think if it means that
much to you, then that’s what you
should do. Your mum’s a strong
woman, she’ll get over it.

ELLIE
(Moved)
Thank you.

Ellie takes Franks hand and squeezes it.

EXT. FERRY -SAT AFTERNOON

Ellie puts the letter back and stands as the ferry nears the
terminal. Suddenly her phone rings again, she rummages in
her bag for it and answers it without checking the number.

ELLIE
Jen, I’ve told you, just BE there,
will… oh… Mum. Hi. Yes. Yes,
I’m almost there now. I know, Mum.
I’m sorry too. I know you do. I
know you are. Mum, listen, if you
really feel this strongly, I’ll
come back. I never wanted to
upset… no. I know. Ok. No, Jen’s
going to be here too just in case.
I will. I will, I promise. I love
you too. Yeah. Bye.

Ellie puts her phone back in her bag, and half smiles, then
begins to look nervous. As she makes her way downstairs, we
hear a guitarist busk on the side of the river. A mass of
people move off the ferry and, as they do, the words become
clearer.

BUSKER
***Words to follow! Here and now…

Ellie moves up the ramp and blinks in the sudden darkness of
the terminal. She walks with everyone up to the main
building, then stops and rummages again in her bag,
retrieves the picture and checks it again. She walks into
the cafe, looks around and checks her watch. She spots Jen
in the corner, who gives her a subtle thumbs up sign. She
walks upstairs and sees a MAN sitting, back to her, looking
over the river. She checks the photo again, smooths her hair
and walks over to him.

ELLIE
Dad?

FADE OUT.

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EXT.LIVERPOOL PIER HEAD – DAY

Lots of tourists walk about between the Liver Buildings and
the river taking photos, but the huge space looks bare. A
bedraggled man, HENRY is shambling across the square and
asks people for change. He calls to a suited man, ALEX early
30′s smartly dressed. Carries a briefcase. Walks
quickly, eyes and mind elsewhere.

HENRY mid 20′s dressed casually. A haughty look.

HENRY
Mornin boss, beautiful day.

The suited man turns his head and his pace slows a
little. Henry seizes his chance and moves in, big smile and
walks with Alex.

HENRY
Oh I love this spot, come here most
days don’t I.
(he chuckles)
Even when it’s pissin it down, I
love it. Gateway to the world. Love
it.

Henry does a 360 on the spot with arms held high and takes
in the buildings the wide space. He stops on the river where
there are ships moored and sailing by.
Alex looks a little sheepish but amused.

ALEX
Don’t come this way normally. Just
having a pig of a time. Started
last night really and now the car’s
broken down, trains cancelled and I
have to be in the branch soon.It’s
a nightmare. Thought I’d take some
air.

Henry skips in front of Alex.

HENRY
Not due for 20 minutes yet boss ,
you’ve plenty of time. Look ..

Henry points over the river.

HENRY
You can see the ferry just leaving
Seacombe.

Alex stops, looks out over The Mersey and sees the ferry
pulling out.

HENRY
It sails to Woodside then over to
the ‘pool.
(turns to Alex)
Might aswell take a load off and
enjoy the glorious sun and scenery.

Henry moves to one of the  low dual wall seats at the side
of the canal and invites Alex to sit. Alex looks around,
chuckles and takes a seat.

Henry spreads his arms wide across the seat and breathes in
deeply.

HENRY
Yea this port has seen so much in
the past and now …

Henry gazes round and raises his arms to the panorama.

HENRY
… now it’s regaining some of it’s
glory.

Alex looks around taking in the scene in a reverie.

ALEX
I used to come here as a kid. Was
totally different then.The ferries
were always packed and this area
didn’t exist.

Henry suddenly sits up and stares hard at Alex.

HENRY
Tell me about your problem, Alex!

Alex looks up startled. and stammers.

ALEX
(stammers)
What..? How do you know my name?
(he stands and backs away)
What the .. what’s going on? Who
are you?

Alex looks around anxiously, taken aback.
Henry smiles reassuringly at Alex with an open handed gesture, as
if talking to a frightened dog.

HENRY
It’s OK Alex. You’re amongst
friends.

Alex, distraught, looks round frantically.

ALEX
Who? … Where? What’s going on? I
don’t know you.

Alex moves away quickly, backwards, keeping an eye on Henry.

ALEX
Leave me alone!

Henry stands up still smiling , palms open, moving gently
towards Alex.

HENRY
Don’t worry Alex. Henry is here to
look after you. It’s all going to
be OK. No need to worry. We’ll look
after you.

Alex panics, twirls round, looks at the passers by, as if
they were accomplices in some deluded prank. Henry moves
towards him with a leering smile.

ALEX
Get away from me!

Alex turns, makes to run, bumps into a smartly dressed
woman, MARIANNE, early 20′s classical good looks.

MARIANNE
(smiling)
Whoa there … where’s the fire?

ALEX
Sorry … sorry
(looks quizzically)
Don’t I know you?.. weren’t you ..

Marianne moves into Alex, places a hand on his arm. Two
heavies come towards them.

MARIANNE
That’s right, Alex, we met a few days
ago and you may have seen me last
night. Mmm but didn’t you have fun?

Marianne smiles, moves sensuously against Alex.
Alex, looks confused, tries to push Marianne away.

ALEX
No ..no … leave me alone.

Two heavies are suddenly at his back and stop him
moving. Henry joins Marianne. Alex looks with panic,
tries to make a break, but fails..

HENRY
(smiling all the while)
Seems Marianne took a liking to you,
Alex. Let’s walk over there. Nice
and calm, don’t try anything
stupid.

The group march Alex to The Museum on the river edge.
Alex tries to call out.

ALEX
Help me… please, I’m being
kidnapped… someone, for God’s
sake!

Passers-by ignore Alex’s shouts.
Henry, Marianne and the two guys laugh raucously and smile
as if to suggest, with a nod and a wink, a homecoming from a late, late night-out.

HENRY
OK people …. in here.

The group enter the museum.

INT.THE BEATLES MUSEUM CAFE – DAY

The group moves to a table in the corner of the modern
cafe. Other customers are intent on their morning coffee fix. The
two heavies are either side of Alex with Henry and Marianne sat
facing him.

ALEX
You can’t just do this. People will
miss me. I have to be at the branch
soon. Just let me go and we’ll
forget all about it …

Henry smiles broadly, looks from Alex to the two guys,
to Marianne and back to Alex then leans forward.

HENRY
(quiet, menacing)
Oh Alex, tut tut. I can do just
what I like.
Henry shakes his head.
HENRY
Alex, let me show you what I
have been doing whilst you
were playing away from home.
Naughty, naughty boy.

Henry produces a mobile phone, presses the screen a few
times and turns it to Alex. A video starts.

INSERT -  PHONE VIDEO DISPLAY.
INT. ALEX’S HOME – NIGHT

Modern sitting room. GILLIAN, the wife of Alex, mid 30′s,
elegantly dressed is sat at a table.

GILLIAN
(in a trembling voice)
Alex I’m sorry … they just burst
in the  door and I couldn’t do
anything. George and Sacha are
fine. We haven’t been hurt. Just
please please do as they say … I

Henry snatches the phone away and Alex looks around stunned.

ALEX
Oh my god … what .. you bastards

Alex tries to stand up and is pushed down by the two heavies.

HENRY
(smiling patiently)
So you see Alex my friend. I am
holding all the cards. And if you
want this day to continue
pleasantly you WILL do what I ask.

Alex looks bemused, mouth open gasping for air.

HENRY
It’s all very simple really, Boss. I
need you to continue on your way to
the branch and Marianne and I will
be calling to see you at 9.45 as
arranged.

ALEX
What…? Why what about my kids? If
you’ve harmed them I’ll swing for
you!

HENRY
(shakes his head)
Alex! No position to threaten
anything. But don’t worry no harm
will come to your family ….
providing you co-operate with us.

Alex struggles and looks round frantically torn between
shouting for help and complying for the sake of his family.

HENRY
We’ll be at your bank at 9.45 and
we will be making a small
withdrawal. I have to tell you. If
anything ..
(he pauses menacingly)
should go wrong …. I hate to
think of your lovely family having
to pay for your mistakes. Rest
assured … they will pay dearly if
our little transaction doesn’t go
well.

Alex looks completely terrified and nods to Henry

ALEX
OK OK you win I’ll do what you
want. Just please don’t hurt my
family.

HENRY
Now that’s better Alex. Lovely day
for a ferry ride. Let’s take the
air.

The group rises and moves out of the museum to the pier head
where the ferry boat is docking.

FADE OUT

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