​MARTIN RADICH
REVOLVE HER
A screenplay.
​
A writer delves deep into his imagination to reconnect with his dead wife.
OPENING CREDITS
The Angels of Light - Untitled Love Song
​
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - DAY
​
The MUSIC plays: Free from your past...
The room is seen from above.
A man (30s) sits on the edge of a bed. He does not move.
Free of your future too...
The CAMERA imperceptibly begins to fall... The CAMERA slowly drifts out in front of the man - always focussed on the figure... Gently the CAMERA comes to a halt, hovering right in front of BRADFORD’S face. His eyes are filled with tears. He stares blankly at the far wall.
The CAMERA pulls back...
The MUSIC carries over...
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - NIGHT
​
The CAMERA pushes forward...
The dark room is illuminated by the flickering light of a TV.
BRADFORD lies on a sofa, staring vacantly at the screen.
The CAMERA gets nearer...
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - DAY
​
BRADFORD’S profile; he looks rough, a night of no sleep. He stares at something.
The CAMERA retreats... Slowly revealing that BRADFORD is stood in front of the closed bathroom door. He does not move. He does not enter.
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - NIGHT
​
BRADFORD is stood SCREAMING. The screams are just audible under the music. His face is utter despair.
The CAMERA closes in on BRADFORD’S pain...
The MUSIC still continues: There's nothing true and nothing's real...
INT/EXT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - DAY
A window in the centre of frame.
Through the glass: BRADFORD standing in the back yard smoking; a disconsolate posture.
The CAMERA inches backwards... BRADFORD is seen discarding his cigarette - he moves out of shot.
The CAMERA creeps back further - revealing a vase of wilted tulips.
BRADFORD enters the kitchen. He grabs the vase. He dumps the flowers into a bin and pours the water down the sink.
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - NIGHT
While I lay dying upon some bed...
BRADFORD on his side; foetal position.
The CAMERA rises high above...
INT. HOUSE (BACK BEDROOM) - MORNING
From wide the CAMERA moves in...
BRADFORD stands on a wooden chair in front of a tall cupboard; hair greasy, stubble jagged. He is holding an old typewriter, holding it reverentially.
Getting closer... Towards the typewriter.
BRADFORD suddenly blows the dust off of the keys. The CAMERA enters the motes of dust...
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
BRADFORD sits at a small table. The CAMERA pulls back...
The typewriter waits.
The MUSIC continues: The only one I want to see is you...
BRADFORD stares at the machine. His hands move over the keys. Tentatively he taps. Then taps again. Then taptaps. Then tap tap taptaptap tap taptaptap tap tap...
The MUSIC starts to fade, to blend and merge with the tapping, the tap tap tapping gets louder and LOUDER...
The words on the paper read: INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
Then these words appear punched onto the paper: T b u s t s
i n t o t h e k i t c h e n . . .
BRADFORD is knuckling down...
Tap tap tap tapTapTAP TAP TAP TAP... TING!
​
TULIP busts into the kitchen - a dazzling tornado in her 30s.
​
TULIP
Some fucker’s shat on our doorstep!
BRADFORD looks up from the typewriter.
​
BRADFORD
Are you sure?
​
TULIP
Am I sure?
She dumps the bags of groceries onto the counter.
​
TULIP (CONT’D)
I know shit when I see shit.
​
She winks at BRADFORD; then pushes herself up to sit on top of the counter.
BRADFORD
I started writing again.
TULIP
Did you?
BRADFORD
Yes. A script.
TULIP
Good stuff?
BRADFORD
Not for me to say.
TULIP
What’s it about?
BRADFORD
About some fucker who shits on his
own doorstep.
TULIP
That’s a coincidence.
BRADFORD
You’d think.
TULIP frowns.
​
TULIP
What does that mean?
BRADFORD
Think about it.
TULIP thinks about it.
TULIP
Are you saying that you actually
shat on your own doorstep?
BRADFORD
Yes.
TULIP
As research?
BRADFORD
Yup.
TULIP
But it’s an idiom.
​
BRADFORD
I know.
​
TULIP
Its meaning is elsewhere and not on
the surface of that sentence.
BRADFORD
I know what an idiom is.
TULIP
How’d you feel about that?
BRADFORD
I’m ok with it.
TULIP
Is it a practice you intend on
repeating?
BRADFORD
Possibly.
TULIP
Possibly not.
BRADFORD
Do you think it’s excessive?
TULIP
Damn right.
​
BRADFORD
I agree. Normally you can get by
without it.
​
TULIP
Without what?
​
BRADFORD
The research.
TULIP
So you just wanted to shit on your
own doorstep?
BRADFORD
Clever, ain’t it.
TULIP
That’s not a defence.
BRADFORD
It isn’t?
TULIP
No. In future use your third eye.
BRADFORD casually holds up a black revolver.
​
BRADFORD
Where’d this come from?
​
TULIP is unfazed.
TULIP
Where'd that come from?
BRADFORD
I just asked that.
TULIP
I’m asking you.
BRADFORD
I found it in your pants drawer.
TULIP
I thought it was a safe place.
BRADFORD
Safe from me?
TULIP
You’re not a danger.
BRADFORD
Are you certain of that?
​
TULIP
What were you looking for?
BRADFORD
Something else.
TULIP opens her legs; the skirt reveals pink pants.
TULIP
Looking for these?
BRADFORD
That’s throwing a dead cat into the
room.
TULIP
My pussy ain’t deceased.
BRADFORD is still holding up the revolver.
BRADFORD
Where does a girl from Blackburn
get a gun?
TULIP closes her legs.
TULIP
Don’t matter.
BRADFORD
I think it does.
TULIP
I was drawn to it.
BRADFORD
Who’d you draw it from?
TULIP
Why so insistent upon knowing that?
BRADFORD
Wherever that place is T it might
have a hold on you.
TULIP
It don’t.
BRADFORD
That right?
TULIP slides off the counter and moseys over to BRADFORD and sits in his lap wrapping her arms around his neck.
TULIP
But I got a hold on you babe.
​
BRADFORD
Don’t I know it.
TULIP
This ain’t such a bad thing.
​
TULIP kisses BRADFORD with feeling. He responds.
She pulls back and stands. TULIP gently takes the revolver from BRADFORD’S hand and slips it inside the back of the skirt’s waistband.
​
TULIP (CONT'D)
I believe you’ve got some shit to
clean up.
BRADFORD smiles.
​
BRADFORD
Don’t I know that too.
EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT
The front doorstep.
BRADFORD squats down, picking up his mess with a plastic bag.
TULIP stands behind BRADFORD, her face screwed up.
BRADFORD
I know what you’re thinking.
TULIP
I doubt you fuckin’ do.
EXT. CHURCH STREET - NIGHT
​
BRADFORD is walking down the street. Looking for a bin.
He finds one and throws in the bag of excrement.
From his pocket he pulls out six bullets. He studies them. Lying in the palm of his hand: six .38 calibre bullets.
He drops them into the bin too.
HOMELESS (O.S.)
Is that safe?
BRADFORD, startled, looks up.
​
Facing him is a man who looks ancient, akin to the Don McCullin Homeless Irishman portrait. The ten coats the man is wearing make him look huge. (The actor playing Bradford will also play Homeless.)
​
BRADFORD
Safe?
​
HOMELESS
Bullets are dangerous.
BRADFORD
Down the drain?
HOMELESS
Bullets are waterproof.
BRADFORD
Then where?
HOMELESS
Bury them. Eight foot deep.
CUT TO:
A drain at the kerb-side. The six bullets rain down clanking on the grill then plopping into the water below.
​
INT. HOUSE (BATHROOM) - NIGHT
​
TULIP has the revolver’s muzzle at her temple. She is crying.
Then pulls the trigger... click. She SCREAMS!
Click click click click click click click click click...!
​
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
​
BRADFORD has his head in his hands.
He’s sat at the small table - the typewriter waiting.
TULIP is leaning against the doorway, her eyes are bloodshot.
TULIP
Hey, I’ve got painkillers that’ll
fix a hole in the head.
BRADFORD
Have you?
TULIP
Sorry. Have not.
BRADFORD
No worries. I’m not in pain.
TULIP
What’s it you’re in?
BRADFORD lifts his head to look at TULIP.
​
BRADFORD
Deep shit.
​
He smiles awkwardly.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
Nah, bad shape.
​
TULIP
Where?
BRADFORD
My thoughts.
TULIP
Get a grip.
BRADFORD
I know. It’s pathetic.
TULIP
I’m hungry.
BRADFORD
I made you a sandwich.
​
TULIP spots it and moves over to the counter.
TULIP
No shit or bad shape is
insurmountable.
TULIP takes a bite out of the sandwich; sniffling she wipes her nose.
BRADFORD
That right?
TULIP
(mouth full of sandwich)
It’s a state of mind.
BRADFORD
That so?
​
TULIP
Yeh.
​
BRADFORD
I hate to say this honey but I’m
getting a hypocritical sensation
here.
TULIP takes another bite.
TULIP
Hypocrisy and contradiction are
lessons learnt. I have no issue
with either. To me they’re both
signs of progression.
BRADFORD
Finish the sandwich.
TULIP
(wiping her mouth)
Tell me your problem.
BRADFORD
You ain’t got an inkling?
​
TULIP
Clueless as fuckin’ usual.
BRADFORD
That you wanted to kill yourself.
TULIP
I see.
BRADFORD
You see?
TULIP
Perhaps if I was someone else.
BRADFORD
In what way?
TULIP
In all ways.
BRADFORD
But you’re perfect as you are.
TULIP puts down her sandwich. Then moves across the kitchen and sits down opposite BRADFORD.
TULIP
No babe I ain’t. I’m broken. Broken
from the beginning.
BRADFORD
Aren’t we all?
​
TULIP
No.
​
BRADFORD
How can I help?
TULIP
A new persona. For me.
BRADFORD
Ain’t it me that needs it?
​
TULIP
Maybe.
(smiling)
I’d be Angel Delight.
​
BRADFORD
You’re one of them now.
TULIP leans forward. Role playing:
TULIP
Excuse me sir. My name is Miss
Angel Deelight.
BRADFORD
The pleasure’s mine Angel.
TULIP
And who might you be?
BRADFORD
I might be someone you ought better
not know.
TULIP
I’m a big girl. What you hiding?
BRADFORD’S tone shifts.
BRADFORD
Me? I ain’t hiding anything. I’m
right up fucking front.
TULIP
Me too. I’m like a puppy; eyes as
big as saucers, ears pricked like
Saul’s feet and tail waving at the
whole fuckin’ seven billion.
BRADFORD nods.
BRADFORD
That’s nice. I’m gonna use that.
BRADFORD leans into the typewriter, he’s on it straight away:
Tap tap tap tap tap taptap tap tap tap... ting!
BRADFORD stops. He looks up at TULIP.
TULIP has turned in her seat. Sat side on to BRADFORD she stares at nothing, an out-of-focus stare. The bloodshot reappears, a lone tear escapes the duct.
BRADFORD’S face is flush. Back at the typewriter:
Taptap Taptaptap tap tap taptap...
​
TULIP sniffs up some more... She then tips back her chair against the wall. She closes her eyes. Listening to the tapping.
​
Tap taptap tap taptaptap...
TULIP is relaxing. She’s going deeper. The tapping starts to
distort:
​
Tap taptap tap taaaap tahp waaahp waaaah vwoaaah vwaarrgh...
Upon TULIP'S face and spread out across the wall behind her are images of landscape that whizz by: Fields, hedgerows, trees, clouds - whoosh! A breeze blows TULIP'S hair as she thunders through the countryside.
​
BRADFORD concentrates on the typing, the tapping sound subdued by the rushing wind.
​
TULIP’S expression is serene. Her mind has taken her to a happy place, she’s enjoying the ride...
​
Vwoooooosssssshhhhhhh...
​
Then the breeze starts to ease off. The images begin to fade. The moment quietens down...
​
TULIP slowly opens her eyes. The chair falls forward.
Taptap tap tap tap...
​
BRADFORD (CONT’D)
(without looking up)
Go someplace nice?
Taptaptap tap tap tap...
TULIP
Just out for a drive.
Tap tap taptap... ting!
BRADFORD lifts his eyes from the words on the paper.
BRADFORD
Let me guess... Up north?
​
TULIP
Bingo!
​
BRADFORD smiles. Then stands.
BRADFORD
I’m going out for a smoke.
​
EXT. HOUSE (BACK YARD) - NIGHT
​
The back yard is still. Distant traffic noise resonates.
BRADFORD takes a toke on a cigarette.
He absently picks at some peeling paint on the back gate.
Scuffing at some weeds.
Blowing smoke rings...
NEIGHBOUR (O.S.)
Alright.
BRADFORD turns around.
The bald head of his NEIGHBOUR (50s) protrudes above the boundary wall.
BRADFORD looks. Then inhales coolly.
BRADFORD
Alright.
​
NEIGHBOUR
I didn’t mean to disturb you.
BRADFORD
You didn’t?
NEIGHBOUR
No.
BRADFORD
But you fucking did.
NEIGHBOUR
Did fuckin’ what?
BRADFORD
Did both - meant and disturbed.
NEIGHBOUR
I didn’t.
BRADFORD
Whatever.
NEIGHBOUR
But I get it.
BRADFORD
Get this; I’m finished.
BRADFORD drops the cigarette and grinds the butt with his boot.
​
NEIGHBOUR
I ain’t.
​
BRADFORD
Sorry about that.
NEIGHBOUR
Listen, I do get it.
BRADFORD
Do you?
​
NEIGHBOUR
I fuckin’ do.
BRADFORD
What is it that you get?
NEIGHBOUR
I’m just saying that when I put a
glass to the wall I can hear you
clear as fuckin’ day, I can hear
everything, especially that tappety-
tap-tapping on your fuckin’
typewriter.
BRADFORD
Tappety-tap-tapping?
NEIGHBOUR
Here’s an idea; use a fuckin’
computer.
BRADFORD
Another idea; don’t use a fucking
glass.
Suddenly there’s MUSIC coming from deep inside the house.
BRADFORD goes to enter...
NEIGHBOUR
Just be discreet with the fuckin’
noises chief.
BRADFORD
Will do.
BRADFORD disappears into the house.
NEIGHBOUR gesticulates that BRADFORD is a wanker.
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - NIGHT
The MUSIC is LOUD. The Dominions play I Need Her.
​
TULIP’S avant-garde dance moves are limp and loose and in
sync. She twists and claps and hops and sways - a Goddess.
BRADFORD walks in. He stops. He watches.
TULIP spies him and beckons him. BRADFORD stays put, waiting.
The song is desperate, urgent and demanding...
Now BRADFORD jumps in, straight in on the howls of insistence.
Two rhythmical bodies. Both playing it cool. They dance till the end...
The needle lifts off the record and creaks back to its resting position.
TULIP slinks up to BRADFORD. The attitude of the song fills the space.
TULIP
Fuck me.
BRADFORD
Fuck you.
TULIP
That’s what I said.
BRADFORD
I said something different.
TULIP
Not that different.
BRADFORD
But different enough.
TULIP
Either way don’t I get what I want?
BRADFORD
I don’t think so.
TULIP
You’re unsure?
BRADFORD
I’m unsure about a hell of a lot.
TULIP
You remember the song?
​
BRADFORD
I do.
TULIP
You remember the night?
​
BRADFORD
Some of it.
​
TULIP is hot.
​
TULIP
Liar.
She grabs BRADFORD’S crotch; rubbing it.
TULIP (CONT'D)
I know that was the best fucking
night of your life.
BRADFORD
Six out of ten.
​
TULIP smiles.
BRADFORD pulls her in tight and they kiss, forcefully...
Then BRADFORD pushes TULIP away.
​
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
I hate you.
TULIP
I hurt you.
BRADFORD
This is fucked up.
TULIP
Talk about it.
BRADFORD
Fuck that.
TULIP drops into the sofa.
TULIP
C’mon. Let’s clear the air.
BRADFORD
I don’t want to.
TULIP gives him the middle finger.
BRADFORD sits down beside her.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
I can’t just accept it.
TULIP
Then let me fuckin’ go.
​
BRADFORD
No.
TULIP
You’re resistant for what?
BRADFORD
For what?
TULIP
Yeh, for what?
BRADFORD
Not for nothing.
TULIP
If not for nothing then what?
BRADFORD shakes his head.
BRADFORD
This stinks.
TULIP leans to one side: Brrrap!
Instantly BRADFORD screws up his face.
​
BRADFORD
Jesus!
​
TULIP stands.
​
TULIP
I’m off to the toilet and then I’m
off out to find me a stray dog.
BRADFORD
Sit.
TULIP stares at BRADFORD. Stepping forward - Thwack! She slaps him hard.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
(rubbing his cheek)
Motherfucker!
TULIP
I know that’s what you think.
BRADFORD
It’s not T. It was a joke. Albeit
one that didn’t go down too well.
TULIP - changing her mind - goes and switches on the TV and parks herself in the chair beside it. She channel hops.
BRADFORD waits.
​
BRADFORD (CONT’D)
Let’s watch something together.
TULIP settles on something... She then looks deadeye at BRADFORD; leaning to one side: Brrraaap!
Canned laughter fills the room.
TULIP
Yeh. Let’s do that.
BRADFORD smiles.
TULIP (CONT'D)
Why don’t you go get us some gin.
​
EXT. HOUSE/STREET - NIGHT
​
BRADFORD pulls the door shut. He walks down the street.
EXT. WHITEGATE DRIVE - NIGHT
BRADFORD strides along the pavement. Suddenly he breaks into a jog which rapidly becomes a sprint; he’s bombing it down the road.
INT. OFF-LICENCE - NIGHT
Ding-a-ling!
BRADFORD enters the shop.
Breathing heavily he heads up to the till.
BRADFORD
Gin... and tonic.
Dunk dunk. The bottles are on the counter.
SHOPKEEPER
Fourteen fifty.
BRADFORD hands the toothless SHOPKEEPER (60s) a twenty.
SHOPKEEPER (CONT'D)
You need company?
BRADFORD
No.
The SHOPKEEPER gurns. She licks her lips.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
I’ve got company.
​
SHOPKEEPER
Who?
BRADFORD
The most beautiful woman alive.
SHOPKEEPER
Ain’t you looking at her?
BRADFORD
Ordinarily I might be. But today I
ain’t.
BRADFORD grabs his change and the bottles and leaves.
SHOPKEEPER
(shouting after Bradford)
What’s this woman’s name?
BRADFORD exits the shop.
The SHOPKEEPER watches. The door closes.
Ding-a-ling!
The SHOPKEEPER picks up a mobile. She dials a number.
INT. POLICE STATION (DCI BALL’S OFFICE) - NIGHT
DCI BALL (50s) flips shut his mobile phone.
​
Spread out across his desk are images from a crime scene - the corpse is unrecognisable.
​
He lifts one of the photos up - a blood spattered tiled wall.
He studies it.
Then he lifts up another - a bedraggled Bradford mugshot.
EXT. WHITEGATE DRIVE - NIGHT
BRADFORD is running back up the road with the two bottles.
INT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - NIGHT
BRADFORD enters the house.
​
TULIP (O.S.)
(from upstairs)
DID YOU GET TONIC?
BRADFORD
(relieved)
Yes!
​
BRADFORD moves into the kitchen...
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
...and starts to prepare the G&Ts.
​
INT. HOUSE (BATHROOM) - NIGHT
TULIP flushes the toilet. Washes her hands. Dries them.
​
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
​
TULIP bounds into the kitchen.
TULIP
Let’s go to the beach!
BRADFORD sups his drink.
BRADFORD
Now?
​
TULIP
Yes.
TULIP takes her glass and empties it, smacking her lips -
Pahhh!
​
TULIP (CONT'D)
It’ll be transcendent.
BRADFORD
Transcendent?
TULIP
Yes.
BRADFORD
You want another?
TULIP
Yes... But then the beach.
EXT. BEACH - NIGHT
BRADFORD and TULIP lie on the pebbles, both gazing upwards.
The world around them is pitch-black. The sounds of the sea as it rolls and collapses onto the shoreline. The clambering clattering of the pebbles as they chase after the retreating water. The distant squawks of gluttonous seagulls.
Above it all the night sky calm and vast.
​
TULIP
Funny that I feel claustrophobic.
BRADFORD
I suppose it is. Then again I
suppose it ain’t.
TULIP
‘Cos?
BRADFORD
Like having cling-film wrapped over
your face.
TULIP
I don’t see that.
BRADFORD
That there’s all this oxygen on the
other side but you’re not getting
it.
TULIP
You’re substituting oxygen for
space?
BRADFORD
Yes.
TULIP
Not sure that’s stacking up. I
ain’t going to die from a lack of
space. I just fear that I can’t
escape.
BRADFORD
But you did.
TULIP
Fuckin’ step that aside. I’m
talking about this.
BRADFORD
Sorry.
TULIP
Don’t be. I’m sorry.
BRADFORD
Now I’m lost.
TULIP
Those birds are lost too.
BRADFORD
I don’t think so.
​
TULIP
Those are cries of desperation.
BRADFORD
So not geographically lost?
TULIP
No.
BRADFORD
Desperate for what?
TULIP
Stability. The seagulls sense
things are shifting.
BRADFORD
Shifting plates?
TULIP
Amongst things.
BRADFORD
Planet things?
TULIP
Yeh. Who the fuck wants to live out
there?
BRADFORD
Werner Herzog.
TULIP
Fuck him. Whoever he is. We’re not
meant to be on some other fuckin’
planet. We’re meant to be on this
fuckin’ planet.
Both still gaze up at the stars.
​
TULIP (CONT'D)
Look at it.
BRADFORD
Not much to see.
TULIP
There’s probably plenty to see but
we’re not meant to see it. Why live
in outer space or on Mars? Save
planet Earth. Assholes.
BRADFORD
Scientists?
TULIP
Yeh. Ego-fuckin-maniacs!
​
BRADFORD sucks on his cigarette. Then exhales.
TULIP (CONT'D)
Can you lie out under the stars in
either of those God-forsaken shit-
holes?
BRADFORD
Nope. You can’t.
TULIP
Can you swim in a river or climb a
tree?
BRADFORD
Nope.
​
TULIP
Or watch a hedgehog waddle across
your midnight lawn?
BRADFORD
Nope.
​
TULIP
Even the despairing cry of the
seagulls is a sound to absorb and
embrace. Out there is dead.
BRADFORD
Dead down here too.
TULIP
Out there. Always out there. I
couldn’t give a toss. I want my
life to take place at my
fingertips.
BRADFORD
T —
TULIP
Not imagining what my life could be
like on another fuckin’ moon or in
another fuckin’ galaxy. My life is
feeling these pebbles and hearing
those waves and holding your hand -
this is special. This is enough.
BRADFORD
I agree with you babe. So what the
fuck happened?
TULIP
Good question.
TULIP jumps to her feet. Takes a deep breath and runs toward the black, toward the sound of the sea.
​
BRADFORD lifts himself up onto his elbows.
BRADFORD
T...
TULIP vanishes, completely consumed by the blackness.
BRADFORD hears the splashes and the slaps of someone running into the sea.
BRADFORD stands. Then moves to the shoreline, shouting:
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
T!
He steps into the water uncertain of his actions.
​
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
TEEE!...
To go in, to stay out... Standing still, listening.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
TEEEEEE!
Listening again... Into the sea up to his waist.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
TEEEEEEEEEE!
Back out again.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Nothing but the repetition of the tide too’ing and fro’ing.
Then. Something... A shape... Out of the ink comes TULIP stomping at the sea - grinning like a cat.
TULIP
It’s incredible!
​
BRADFORD is shaking - angry/relieved/angry/relieved...
TULIP sploshes her way up to BRADFORD. She clasps his face and plants a smacker on his lips.
TULIP (CONT'D)
It’s exhilarating! Let’s go!
​
TULIP runs back in.
​
BRADFORD stares. Then charges into the darkness...
​
BRADFORD
Oooooooo Eeeeeeeee!
​
EXT. BEACH ROAD - NIGHT
​
Splat! Splot! Splat! Splot! Splat! Splot! Splat! Splot!...
BRADFORD and TULIP, both sodden, traipse along the road.
Neither talks. They walk for a minute.
Splat! Splot! Splat! Splot! Splat! Splot!...
Then:
BRADFORD
Are you cold?
TULIP
I’m freezing.
BRADFORD
Tell me something.
TULIP
Tell you what?
BRADFORD
To take my mind elsewhere.
TULIP
Where’s that?
BRADFORD
Where’s what?
TULIP
Elsewhere?
BRADFORD
Elsewhere is any place but here.
TULIP
Where shall I begin?
BRADFORD
Angel Delight.
TULIP
Okay.
BRADFORD
So do so.
TULIP
Angel is a butterfly.
BRADFORD
A painted lady?
TULIP
A grizzled skipper.
BRADFORD
What about the ordinary?
TULIP
Nothing ordinary about Angel.
BRADFORD
How does she survive?
TULIP
She is a songwriter.
​
BRADFORD
Really?
TULIP
Yes.
BRADFORD
Singing songs for the lost and the
lonely?
TULIP
Absolutely.
BRADFORD
Where is she living?
TULIP
She is nomadic.
BRADFORD
Of course.
TULIP
As I speak she is in Buenos Aires.
BRADFORD
Do better. Be realistic.
TULIP
I am. Buenos Aires.
BRADFORD
Why aren’t you in Buenos Aires?
TULIP
Circumstances.
BRADFORD
Didn’t Angel have circumstances?
TULIP
She did. But her circumstances let
her fly.
​
BRADFORD
Be specific.
TULIP
She got the breaks.
BRADFORD
Such as?
TULIP
Such as not meeting you.
BRADFORD
But you love me.
TULIP
I do Bradford. But it’s a shackle.
BRADFORD
We’re shackled to one another.
TULIP
That’s right.
BRADFORD
An even break.
TULIP
Angel hooked up with Diego
Maradona.
BRADFORD
Maradona?
TULIP
Diego is a freewheelin’
motherfucker.
BRADFORD
Diego got some kind of shit
together.
TULIP
You think?
BRADFORD
I think.
TULIP
You know Diego?
BRADFORD
I know his angle.
TULIP
He’s obtuse, right? He’s troubled.
​
BRADFORD
You know that for sure?
TULIP
Angel tells me so.
BRADFORD
How come Diego tells me nothing?
TULIP
Why would he tell you anything?
BRADFORD
Kept fighting the good fight though
didn’t he?
TULIP
What?
BRADFORD
Diego’s dead.
TULIP
Maradona?
BRADFORD
Yeh. — Maybe I’m not Diego. Maybe
I’m Carlos Valderrama and you’ve
not reached Columbia yet.
TULIP
Bradford?
BRADFORD
Yeh.
TULIP
It ain’t on you.
BRADFORD
It ain’t?
TULIP
No. It’s on me.
BRADFORD
It doesn’t feel like that. You’re
just telling me what I want to
hear. Like fucking fairy tales.
TULIP
Maybe Bradders, maybe. But united
we march.
Chin up. Chest out. Arms swinging.
​
Splat! Splot! Splat! Splot! Splat! Splot! Splat! Splot!...
​
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - MORNING
BRADFORD’S fingers working frantically:
Taptap tap tap tap tap taptaptap tap taptap...
BRADFORD stops. His eyes half shut. He peers at his typed words. Then looks at the clock on the wall: 6.26
He pulls out the sheet and gathers up the night’s work - twenty pages or so.
Pushing back his chair, he gets up, and leaves the kitchen...
​
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - MORNING
BRADFORD walks into the room and falls into the sofa. He places the writings on the coffee table.
Ding dong! Ding dong!
BRADFORD is puzzled.
He stands and moves over to the window. Carefully he peeks through the blinds.
BRADFORD
(under his breath)
Bollocks.
BRADFORD walks back out of the room...
​
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - MORNING
...and back into the kitchen. BRADFORD sits back down at the typewriter. He inserts a new sheet and dives straight in -
Taptap tap taptaptap tap taptap...
Ding dong ding dong!
​
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - MORNING
TULIP rolls out of the bed. At the window she peers down through the blinds.
Below she sees DCI BALL looking up and down the street.
TULIP
(under her breath)
Bollocks.
​
TULIP pulls back from the window and heads over to the wardrobe. Opening the doors she climbs inside then pulls the doors shut.
​
INSIDE she holds her breath. On high alert.
​
EXT. HOUSE - MORNING
BRADFORD opens the front door.
DCI BALL puts his dirty finger to his cracked lips, a silent
Shhhhh!
​
DCI BALL
Good morning Mr. Keens.
BRADFORD says nothing.
DCI BALL looks and smells like he’s had a night of Guinness and whisky chasers.
​
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
What?
BRADFORD
Is this happening?
​
DCI BALL smiles.
DCI BALL
Why not?
BRADFORD disappears into the house leaving the door open.
BRADFORD (O.S.)
I’m in the kitchen.
DCI BALL enters.
​
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - MORNING
Both sit at the kitchen table, the typewriter between them; both look wrecked for different reasons.
DCI BALL
How’ve you been?
BRADFORD
I’ve been better.
DCI BALL
How long did that last?
BRADFORD
The better time?
DCI BALL
Yeh. The better time.
​
BRADFORD
Two years.
DCI BALL
That’s not bad.
BRADFORD
Could be better. That it?
DCI BALL
Could be. Just thought I’d check
in. I’m thoughtful.
(nodding at the
typewriter)
What’s with that?
BRADFORD
I write on it.
DCI BALL
No shit.
BRADFORD
Is there another answer?
DCI BALL
I don’t suppose there is. But you,
actually writing on that -
(nodding again at the
typewriter)
gives me answers. It tells me
plenty.
BRADFORD
Like what?
DCI BALL
Like you’ve figured the shit out.
BRADFORD
Does it?
DCI BALL
To write on that thing it’s a
commitment.
​
BRADFORD
Is it?
DCI BALL
You know it is.
BRADFORD
It saves time later.
DCI BALL
Saves backtracking.
​
BRADFORD
You can still head north when you
intended heading south.
DCI BALL
Then what?
BRADFORD
Then you burn it. No tears. No
hesitation.
​
DCI BALL
Impressive.
BRADFORD
So what does it tell you?
DCI BALL
Premeditation.
BRADFORD
Meaning?
DCI BALL
Meaning you ain’t stupid.
BRADFORD
That right?
DCI BALL
I’d say it is.
BRADFORD
I see. Certain words are synonymous
with certain actions.
​
DCI BALL
Which ones?
BRADFORD
Words or actions?
DCI BALL grins.
DCI BALL
That ain’t my doing.
BRADFORD shakes his head. Then stands.
BRADFORD
Coffee?
​
DCI BALL
Please.
BRADFORD switches on the kettle.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
Mind if I take a peek at what
you’ve written?
BRADFORD
No.
DCI BALL
You don’t mind?
BRADFORD
No. I do mind.
DCI BALL
Just interested in the writing
process. Just interested in how
those letters grasp on to that thin
piece of paper.
BRADFORD
You must dabble with a lot of make-
believe.
DCI BALL
I do Bradford, I really do. I love
it. Splash of the old sparkle dust
here and there.
BRADFORD
Then you know how those letters
find themselves where they do.
DCI BALL
But making them stick, you know,
that ain’t so easy.
BRADFORD backs down.
BRADFORD
Be my guest.
DCI BALL hides his surprise. They look at each other.
DCI BALL moves into BRADFORD’S chair. He leans in and reads the writings.
DCI BALL looks up at BRADFORD.
DCI BALL
That it?
BRADFORD
A slow night.
DCI BALL
You’re writing about her.
​
BRADFORD
And?
DCI BALL
Fact or fiction?
BRADFORD
Who knows.
​
DCI BALL
You don’t?
BRADFORD
They merge.
DCI BALL
Can I use your toilet? I’m
bursting.
​
BRADFORD
No.
DCI BALL
No?
​
BRADFORD
I don’t.
​
DCI BALL
You don’t?
​
BRADFORD
I’ve not been in since.
DCI BALL
Then where are you shitting?
BRADFORD smiles.
​
DCI BALL stands...
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
I’ll be respectful.
​
He leaves the room.
​
INT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - MORNING
DCI BALL climbs the stairs...
INT. HOUSE (BACK BEDROOM) - MORNING
​
DCI BALL pops his head into the empty back room - nothing.
​
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - MORNING
​
He walks straight past the closed bathroom door...
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - MORNING
...and into the bedroom. DCI BALL takes in the room.
He moves over to the wardrobe, he stops. He puts a cigarette between his lips. Sparks the lighter. Touches the flame to the tip and sucks. Exhaling through his nostrils.
​
DCI BALL takes hold of both handles and pulls open the doors... The wardrobe is empty apart from some neglected clothes: a few dresses, a few coats.
DCI BALL closes the doors.
He then sits on the edge of the bed. The room is void of personality. No pictures. No stuff.
DCI BALL drops his cigarette to the carpet.
He stands up. Unzips his fly, helps out his dick and begins to extinguish the cigarette with good aim. The urine splatters the carpet and the butt... Tsssss!
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - MORNING
​
BRADFORD has sat down with his coffee.
He listens to the footfalls of DCI BALL coming down the stairs and approaching the room...
DCI BALL appears.
DCI BALL
I’m going.
BRADFORD
Is that so?
DCI BALL
Yeah.
BRADFORD
So six thirty in the morning to
have a piss in someone’s house.
DCI BALL grabs his cup of coffee...
DCI BALL
And to say hello.
​
...and downs the coffee.
​
BRADFORD
Hello?
​
DCI BALL
You were up.
​
BRADFORD
But still...
​
DCI BALL
Never still. Always moving. Thanks
for the coffee.
Plonking the cup on the table.
​
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
Just one thing... You knew she had
a gun right?
BRADFORD
Did I fuck.
DCI BALL
You didn’t?
​
BRADFORD
No.
​
DCI BALL
Really?
​
BRADFORD
Really.
DCI BALL looks uncertain.
DCI BALL
How’d she keep that from you?
BRADFORD
She was quite good at that kind of
thing.
DCI BALL
You had any visitors lately?
BRADFORD
Like who?
DCI BALL shrugs his shoulders.
DCI BALL
I don’t know, concerned folk,
shoulders to cry on —
BRADFORD
Nobody.
​
DCI BALL
Ok then. See you tomorrow.
​
DCI BALL salutes - one finger to the forehead salute.
​
BRADFORD
See yourself out.
​
EXT. HOUSE - MORNING
​
DCI BALL closes the front door behind him and heads towards his parked car, it’s half on half off the pavement at an odd angle. Opening the door he gets inside.
From inside he looks up at the bedroom window... Nothing.
DCI BALL yawns... DANG! DUNK! KLANG...! The detective is flummoxed. Someone has leapt up onto his car, is stomping over the roof, then jumps down onto the bonnet... DWANG..!
NEIGHBOUR drops down onto the ground. He turns...
NEIGHBOUR
Park on the fuckin’ road!
DCI BALL grins.
NEIGHBOUR gesticulates that DCI BALL is also a wanker and carries on his way to work.
DCI BALL laughs in disbelief.
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - MORNING
BRADFORD finishes his coffee.
He stares at the typewriter.
Ding dong! Ding dong!
BRADFORD
(under his breath)
Fuck!
INT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - DAY
BRADFORD opens the front door.
A woman, Tulip’s mother, dressed all in black, wearing shades.
BRADFORD
Oh.
MARIE-ODILE (60s) looks at BRADFORD’S dishevelled appearance.
MARIE-ODILE
You need to respect the dead.
BRADFORD
Do I? I think the dead could’ve
respected me.
MARIE-ODILE
Maybe it’s ‘cos of that attitude
that the dead are dead.
MARIE-ODILE pushes past BRADFORD and steps inside the house...
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - DAY
...and enters the living room.
MARIE-ODILE waits in the centre of the room.
BRADFORD joins her. MARIE-ODILE just stares.
BRADFORD
What?
MARIE-ODILE
Where’d it happen?
BRADFORD doesn’t reply.
MARIE-ODILE (CONT'D)
Where did it happen?
BRADFORD
Upstairs. The bathroom.
MARIE-ODILE
Show me.
BRADFORD
No chance.
MARIE-ODILE
That’s insensitive.
BRADFORD
For me too.
MARIE-ODILE
Did you kill her?
BRADFORD
What?
MARIE-ODILE
DC Eyeball has his suspicions.
BRADFORD
Why would he say that?
MARIE-ODILE
Evidence.
BRADFORD
I was fucking working!
MARIE-ODILE
Take me upstairs.
BRADFORD
(yelling)
NO!
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - DAY
Both BRADFORD and MARIE-ODILE stand outside the bathroom.
BRADFORD
I ain’t going in.
MARIE-ODILE
(screwing up her nose,
nodding at the bedroom)
You been pissing in there?
BRADFORD
I can’t go in. I’ll leave you to
it.
BRADFORD walks past MARIE-ODILE and back down the stairs.
MARIE-ODILE gathers herself. She turns the door handle and gently pushes the door open...
INT. HOUSE (BATHROOM) - DAY
The bathroom is stark and clean.
​
MARIE-ODILE moves into the room; her face is bloodless. She’s trying to feel Tulip's presence... The room is cold.
MARIE-ODILE sits on the edge of the bath. Quietly her emotions simmer then boil: tears first then sobs and now constrained cries. The pain is evident. She gasps for oxygen. Her chest convulses. Distraught guttural sounds escape her throat. Snot oozes down from her nostrils. Grabbing some toilet paper she blows her nose - Brrrrrrrrr!
Big deep breaths. Her lungs contract and expand. The breathing finally begins to regulate.
A mirror is positioned above the handbasin opposite. MARIE- ODILE lifts up her shades.
She squints through her watery eyes. She moves closer to the reflection. Then twists her head to look up into a corner of the ceiling - what’s that?
Carefully she stands on the edge of the bath and reaches high into the corner. Stuck to the ceiling is something - long strands of hair?
Gently MARIE-ODILE peels it from its position... Stepping down she looks closer. Holding it in her hands: it is a five pence sized piece of scalp with 20cm long hairs attached.
Delicately MARIE-ODILE curls up the hair and slips it into an inside pocket.
​
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - DAY
MARIE-ODILE enters the kitchen.
BRADFORD is sat back in his chair. The wall clock in his hand; he’s fiddling with the batteries.
BRADFORD
Did it help?
MARIE-ODILE
With what?
BRADFORD
With anything.
MARIE-ODILE
Nothing.
BRADFORD
What time did you get here?
MARIE-ODILE
Midday.
BRADFORD frowns and re-sets the time.
MARIE-ODILE (CONT'D)
Rose is coming back.
BRADFORD
From Argentina?
MARIE-ODILE
Yes. Who cleaned up the mess?
BRADFORD
Police people.
MARIE-ODILE
Is that a profession?
​
BRADFORD
Probably.
MARIE-ODILE
Fuckers should get sacked.
BRADFORD
Why?
MARIE-ODILE
No reason.
BRADFORD
Can you give me a lift?
​
INT. POLICE STATION (FRONT DESK) - DAY
BRADFORD is hunched over the desk filling out a form.
The DESK SERGEANT stares at him. Subtly he shakes his head; jaws clenched.
BRADFORD finishes with a flamboyant signature and pushes the form toward the DESK SERGEANT.
DESK SERGEANT
You know we keep our records for
eternity.
BRADFORD
I’m fucking pleased to hear that.
DESK SERGEANT
It never backfires.
BRADFORD ponders this, then leaves.
The DESK SERGEANT follows BRADFORD with his eyes whilst he takes out a mobile from his pocket; he dials a number and puts the phone to his ear.
INT. STORE ROOM - DAY
DCI BALL finishes the call flipping shut his mobile.
He is sat behind a cheap table, boxes of booze stacked all around him. DCI BALL presses a button on the desk - from elsewhere a faint buzzzzz...
INT. OFF-LICENCE - DAY
...BUZZZZZZ.
A young BOY (12) stands in front of the counter, he takes his two bottles of cider.
​
SHOPKEEPER winks and gurns at the BOY.
SHOPKEEPER
Don’t drink that all at once.
The BOY leaves quickly.
The SHOPKEEPER steps out from behind the counter and goes through to the back...
INT. STORE ROOM - DAY
SHOPKEEPER enters the room...
DCI BALL hurls a ten inch knife that FWACKS! into the wall beside SHOPKEEPER... It bounces off the wall and clatters to the floor.
SHOPKEEPER
(shouting)
You bastard!
DCI BALL is nonplussed.
SHOPKEEPER picks up the weapon. The knife is huge.
DCI BALL
The amnesty’s closed. I have
buckets of ‘em to flog. But make
sure to no fucker with suicidal
tendencies.
SHOPKEEPER
She said the gun was for fun.
DCI BALL
Never believe anything anyone ever
says.
DCI BALL stands.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
Here. This is for you.
He holds out a handbag.
SHOPKEEPER
For me?
She takes it, sheepishly - it says Gucci.
DCI BALL
Because you’re beautiful, inside
and out.
​
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - NIGHT
BRADFORD pulls open the wardrobe doors.
TULIP is slumped into a corner. She looks unhappy.
TULIP
You forgot about me.
BRADFORD drops to his knees.
BRADFORD
I don’t think that’s possible.
He takes hold of her hands.
TULIP
Well it is because you did.
BRADFORD
I’m sorry.
BRADFORD helps TULIP out of the wardrobe.
TULIP
Make me smile.
​
BRADFORD
Your mother was here.
TULIP
That’s not going to do it.
TULIP leaves the bedroom. BRADFORD follows...
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - NIGHT
Along the landing...
TULIP
That’s not how you make somebody
smile.
BRADFORD
Smiling doesn’t feel right.
TULIP
We should smile morning, noon and
night.
Heading down the stairs...
BRADFORD
That ain’t fucking practical.
TULIP
Works for me.
​
BRADFORD
You don’t and you didn’t.
Along the hallway...
TULIP
Didn’t what?
BRADFORD
Smile.
TULIP stops and smiles. The smile quickly disappears.
TULIP
I’m glad I missed her.
BRADFORD
Glad?
TULIP
Yeh. Glad. It is a weird word.
BRADFORD
It’s a weird world that you would
be glad.
TULIP
Jesus fuck Bradford.
She turns and heads to the kitchen. BRADFORD follows...
BRADFORD
Sorry. - Two cannibals eating a
clown. One says to the other: ‘Does
this taste funny?’
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
Into the kitchen.
TULIP
That’s better. What else?
BRADFORD
That’s all I’ve got.
TULIP
Got no more?
BRADFORD
Nope.
TULIP sits at the table.
TULIP
Write me a love letter.
BRADFORD
Why’s this shit always one way?
TULIP
Just do it.
BRADFORD sits at the typewriter.
BRADFORD
It’s not easy.
TULIP
No. It ain’t. I struggled too. But
know this —
BRADFORD
No nothing. Just kiss me Tulip.
TULIP
I can do that babe. And I will.
BRADFORD
But first?
TULIP
That’s right.
BRADFORD
That’s wrong. I ain’t bothering.
TULIP
How are we going to get from here
up to there?
BRADFORD
To where?
TULIP
You know.
BRADFORD
We walk and climb.
TULIP
After you.
BRADFORD
After this.
TULIP
After what?
BRADFORD leans to one side: Brrraaap!
TULIP’S face lights up as bright as the illuminations.
TULIP (CONT'D)
You did it!
​
TULIP dives onto BRADFORD. They kiss - passionately. TULIP pulls back.
TULIP (CONT'D)
Waltzer.
BRADFORD
Waltzer?
TULIP
Yeh. That’ll fuckin’ do it too!
​
EXT. FAIR GROUND - NIGHT
BRADFORD and TULIP are squashed together inside the spinning cab. Both are screaming with joy and exhilaration. The waltzer whips and slows and accelerates and whips again.
The light switches and slashes and blinds and is colourful and pulsating.
The music throbs and drills: Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph...!
BRADFORD is turning pale. TULIP throws her arms in the air.
TULIP
Woooooooohooooooo!
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - NIGHT
BRADFORD and TULIP are in bed; the sheets are a mess, their bodies damp with sweat.
A bedside lamp casts a warm glow over the couple lying on their sides facing each other.
BRADFORD
Where did the day go?
TULIP
It went no place.
BRADFORD
It must have gone someplace.
TULIP
That place for me was inside a
wardrobe. That wardrobe...
(indicating with a tilt of
her head)
I was in that place a good twelve
motherfuckin’ hours.
BRADFORD
But where was my place?
TULIP
Fuck knows. Wherever it was it
wasn’t as bad.
BRADFORD
I fear it was just as dark and just
as lonely.
TULIP
So where did the night go?
BRADFORD
I know where the night went.
TULIP
That’s all that matters. The day
can kiss my ass.
BRADFORD
How so?
TULIP
‘Cos I say so.
BRADFORD
Kissing your ass is kissing the
gates of heaven.
TULIP
Is it?
BRADFORD
You bet.
TULIP
Well the day can stick its finger
up my ass.
BRADFORD
Anything to do with your ass ain’t
any kind of retribution.
TULIP
It ain’t?
BRADFORD
No ma’am.
TULIP
Whatever. But I’ll say it again,
the day ain’t where shit happens.
BRADFORD
Who says?
TULIP
I just says. Life happens at night.
BRADFORD
Are you reassuring me that I missed
nothing?
TULIP
You take me to be more thoughtful
than I really am.
BRADFORD
Significant shit happens in
daylight too.
TULIP sits up.
TULIP
No it don’t.
BRADFORD
A great deal of argument could
argue against that T.
TULIP
Could it? Let it.
BRADFORD
Fine.
TULIP
Significant memories always happen
at night.
BRADFORD sits up.
BRADFORD
Such as?
TULIP
Such as this. It’s why you don’t
know where the day went.
BRADFORD
I can’t dispute that.
TULIP
Didn’t think you could.
BRADFORD
But it was daylight when you put a
bullet through your fucking head.
TULIP
Afraid not Bradders. The sun had
already set.
BRADFORD
Is that true?
TULIP
On my life.
BRADFORD
On your death.
TULIP smiles and places a kiss on his nose.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
I need some water. Want some?
TULIP shakes her head.
​
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT/MORNING
BRADFORD, completely naked, fills a glass under the tap. (It’s NIGHT-TIME)
Then drinks the water.
Then places the glass down on the counter.
Then fixes his eyes on the typewriter, sat still sturdy and silent. The piece of paper arching backwards, dozing, subconsciously acknowledging that sooner or later it will be pulled through, feet first, to have someone else’s thoughts hammered onto its skin.
BRADFORD sits down at the table. Just staring.
Staring vacantly at the keys. Not moving.
BRADFORD
(to himself)
What next?
TULIP (O.S.)
Who knows.
BRADFORD is startled.
​
TULIP is stood in the doorway. (It’s DAYTIME)
BRADFORD
Why are you dressed?
TULIP
Why are you bollock naked?
BRADFORD looks at himself then looks at the clock on the wall: 10.49
Sunlight fills the room.
BRADFORD
How’s it ten to eleven?
TULIP
How’s it not?
BRADFORD
Eh?
TULIP
I fell asleep.
BRADFORD
Maybe I did too.
TULIP
Written anything?
BRADFORD looks at the sheet.
BRADFORD
Something. Nothing.
TULIP
No ideas?
BRADFORD
Good ones? No.
TULIP
Did the detective turn up?
​
BRADFORD
No.
​
Ding dong! Ding dong!
​
TULIP
You’re joking! I’m playing it safe;
I’ll be in the bathroom.
​
TULIP darts out of the room.
EXT. HOUSE - MORNING
DCI BALL presses the bell again: Ding dong! Ding dong!
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - MORNING
BRADFORD attacks the typewriter:
Tap tap taptap tap taptaptap tap tap tap taptap tap...
EXT. HOUSE - MORNING
Ding dong ding dong ding donnng...!
DCI BALL tries peering through the window blinds.
UP AT A WINDOW: Bradford’s NEIGHBOUR’S head.
NEIGHBOUR
Oi! Are you a pig?
DCI BALL looks up, he fixes on the NEIGHBOUR, recognising him.
DCI BALL
Say that again.
NEIGHBOUR
Are you a poh-lease-man?
DCI BALL
I’m none of your fuckin’ concern.
NEIGHBOUR
If you’re not a pig then I’m
calling the pigs.
DCI BALL
I wouldn’t expect a response.
NEIGHBOUR
‘Cos I think that poor sap in there
is losing his fuckin’ marbles!
DCI BALL
What’s that got to do with the
cops?
NEIGHBOUR
One thing leads to another. If you
fuckers did your job properly!
The front door opens - BRADFORD appears, bollock naked.
DCI BALL looks him up and down.
DCI BALL
Who’s the twat up at the window?
​
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - MORNING
BRADFORD and DCI BALL sit down facing each other. BRADFORD’s legs are spread asunder.
BRADFORD
Coffee?
DCI BALL
You’ve just sat down.
BRADFORD stands, his bits and pieces dangling.
​
BRADFORD
Just as easy to stand up again.
DCI BALL smiles.
DCI BALL
Why don’t you put some pants on?
BRADFORD sits back down.
BRADFORD
Barry Swift.
DCI BALL
Him next door?
BRADFORD nods.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
He’s fucked.
BRADFORD pulls a ho-hum expression.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
Ho-hum indeed.
(beat)
The coroner gave their verdict.
BRADFORD waits a second.
BRADFORD
Did they?
DCI BALL
Suicide.
No reaction from BRADFORD.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
How’d you feel about that?
Still no response from BRADFORD.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
‘Cos you know and I know that
they’ve made a fuckin’ mistake.
BRADFORD blinks.
BRADFORD
A mistake?
DCI BALL
You did it.
BRADFORD erupts:
BRADFORD (shouting)
I was fucking working!
​
DCI BALL ignores BRADFORD’S outburst.
DCI BALL
I’m certain so.
BRADFORD
Certain of what?
DCI BALL
That you pulled the trigger.
BRADFORD
From the fucking factory?
DCI BALL
Indirectly.
BRADFORD
Based on what?
DCI BALL
Based on my gut.
BRADFORD pauses - a deep breath, exacerbated.
BRADFORD
How the fuck did you make your
rank?
DCI BALL
Intuition. They can’t teach that.
BRADFORD
So where did she get the gun?
DCI BALL
You got the gun. My intuition says
so.
BRADFORD
Your intuition ain’t worth a flying
fuck.
DCI BALL
A what?
​
BRADFORD
I ain’t in that world. Where would
I get a gun?
​
DCI BALL
Was she?
​
BRADFORD
No.
​
DCI BALL
But she got a gun?
BRADFORD has no reply.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
Then it’s not too much of a stretch
to assume the same for you.
BRADFORD
Find the fucker who gave her the
gun!
DCI BALL
Do you have the answer to that?
BRADFORD
What!?
DCI BALL
To where she got the gun?
BRADFORD stands again.
BRADFORD
I’m having a coffee. I can’t take
this shit seriously.
BRADFORD walks out of the room.
DCI BALL
All that coffee; don’t it give you
the squits and jitters?
​
DCI BALL sits for awhile. Then gets up from his chair.
​
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - MORNING
BRADFORD spoons the coffee into a cup.
DCI BALL enters the kitchen.
DCI BALL
Is that us finished?
BRADFORD
You’re asking me?
DCI BALL
I am.
BRADFORD
Then yes, we’re finished.
DCI BALL
I’ll decide that.
BRADFORD turns to look at DCI BALL. He looks at him a long time.
BRADFORD
What is this?
DCI BALL
What’s what?
BRADFORD
Is this because I put in the
complaint?
DCI BALL
I did think we were on the same
team.
BRADFORD
What team’s that?
DCI BALL
Team Tulip.
BRADFORD
You telling her mother that I was a
suspect don’t seem to me like
you’re a team player.
DCI BALL
No it don’t. But that was me just
probing.
BRADFORD
Probing what?
DCI BALL
It’s what a detective does.
Searches for the truth.
BRADFORD explodes:
BRADFORD
The truth is that T blew her brains
out up in that bathroom with a gun
she obtained from some cunt! Go
find that fucking cunt!
DCI BALL
I could be looking at him.
BRADFORD
Your intuition is shot to fuck!
Find the fucker or I’ll create
fucking havoc!
DCI BALL nods at the typewriter.
DCI BALL
Writing going well?
The typewriter is empty.
BRADFORD is breathing like a furious bull.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
Mind if I smoke?
BRADFORD
Only if you piss where you’re meant
to piss.
DCI BALL shifts uncomfortably.
DCI BALL
Not sure how the two connect but —
BRADFORD
I smoke in the backyard. Join me if
you want.
BRADFORD goes to leave the kitchen.
DCI BALL
You keep walking away from me.
The back door closes.
DCI BALL looks at the typewriter, pointless without paper.
Then he looks at the pedal bin.
DCI BALL walks over to it and steps on the pedal of the bin.
The lid opens: a scrunched-up piece of paper sits atop the trash.
DCI BALL reaches in and pulls it out. He unfurls the paper and quickly scans the typed words.
He looks up, he studies BRADFORD through the window.
DCI BALL scrunches up the paper and drops it back into the bin.
INT. HOUSE (STAIRS/LANDING) - MORNING
DCI BALL creeps up the stairs...
Onto the landing...
Standing in front of the bathroom door he gently pushes it open...
INT. HOUSE (BATHROOM) - MORNING
...DCI BALL quietly enters into the bathroom whipping back the shower curtain - nobody there. He shakes his head to himself. He exits the bathroom...
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - MORNING
DCI BALL leans over the landing railing - looking and listening. He then slinks into the bedroom...
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - MORNING
...heading straight for the chest of drawers. He pulls open the top drawer: t-shirts and stuff - and pushes it closed.
He pulls open the second drawer: pants and blouses - DCI BALL takes out a revolver from his inside pocket and wipes it clean with his pulled out shirt and then plants the gun amongst Tulip’s lingerie.
DCI BALL pushes the drawer shut.
​
EXT. HOUSE (BACK YARD) - MORNING
DCI BALL steps out of the back door joining BRADFORD for a smoke. He pops a cigarette between his teeth...
DCI BALL
The body’s been released.
...then lights up the fag.
BRADFORD sucks on his cigarette, looking solemn.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
To the mother.
BRADFORD’S shoulders sag a little.
BRADFORD
To be expected I s’pose.
DCI BALL
Why s’pose?
BRADFORD
I don’t know. I don’t know
anything. I don’t know what day it
is never mind what the right
reasons are.
BRADFORD’S eyes are starting to fill up.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
I’d have died for her.
DCI BALL
She didn’t want you dead. She
wanted dead.
BRADFORD
This is killing me.
BRADFORD lets go, the tears roll down his cheeks.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
I’m exhausted and empty but my head
won’t stop, it won’t grind to a
halt. I’ve got a fucking tornado of
thoughts spinning incessantly. They
don’t cease...
His voice is shaking. His naked body looks pathetic.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
They don’t disappear...
His nose is dribbling.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
They don’t ever die down...
He catches his breath; his rib cage heaves and stutters.
BRADFORD (CONT'D)
I just need some peace and some
sleep and some help. Can you
fucking help me?
DCI BALL is thrown. This is uncomfortable.
DCI BALL
I dunno.
BRADFORD
Please!
DCI BALL
I need the toilet.
DCI BALL drops his cigarette and turns and enters the house.
BRADFORD wipes his nose.
INT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - MORNING
DCI BALL rushes up the stairs...
​
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - MORNING
...along the landing...
​
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - MORNING
...and into the bedroom. He heads straight for the chest of drawers, pulling open the second drawer. Rummaging he finds the revolver and puts it back into his inside pocket and pushes the drawer shut.
EXT. HOUSE (BACK YARD) - MORNING
DCI BALL steps back out into the yard.
DCI BALL
Your kettle’s boiled.
He picks up his cigarette.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
I think we’re done so I’m gonna go.
BRADFORD
(eyes bloodshot)
We’ve been talking.
DCI BALL stops instantly.
DCI BALL
Who’s we?
NEIGHBOUR (O.S.)
Me. You prick.
Up at the window is NEIGHBOUR.
NEIGHBOUR (CONT'D)
Listen to him.
DCI BALL looks at BRADFORD.
DCI BALL
Barry Swift?
BRADFORD
He’s got info.
DCI BALL
Info?
NEIGHBOUR
The fuckin’ off-licence!
BRADFORD
The off-licence.
DCI BALL
What about it?
NEIGHBOUR
It’s a fuckin’ fence.
BRADFORD
Do you get it?
DCI BALL
Get what?
NEIGHBOUR
Tell him it’s a fuckin’ fence.
BRADFORD
It’s a fence.
DCI BALL
It’s a what?
NEIGHBOUR
He fuckin’ gets it alright.
BRADFORD
(getting excited)
I say go raid that fucker
detective.
DCI BALL looks up at NEIGHBOUR.
DCI BALL
How’d you know?
NEIGHBOUR
I know all kinds of shit.
BRADFORD
What you waiting on?
DCI BALL
I thought you wanted peace?
NEIGHBOUR
He wants justice!
BRADFORD
Finding the motherfucker who sold
her the gun will give me peace. I’m
like a dog with a fucking bone...
BRADFORD snarls and shakes his head vigorously - as though he’s shaking the life out of a rabbit clenched between his teeth.
NEIGHBOUR
(grinning insanely)
Told you the fucker was crazy!
DCI BALL
One second.
​
DCI BALL rushes into the house...
​
INT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - DAY
He charges up the stairs...
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - DAY
...along the landing...
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - DAY
...and into the bedroom.
DCI BALL pulls open the second drawer.
Again he takes out the revolver from his inside pocket and again he cleans it thoroughly with his pulled out shirt.
He places the gun back snugly amongst Tulip's pants.
EXT. HOUSE (BACK YARD) - DAY
DCI BALL steps back out into the yard.
DCI BALL
Sorry about that. Got caught short.
NEIGHBOUR
Still full of shit I bet.
BRADFORD smiles.
BRADFORD
Well?
DCI BALL
Well what?
BRADFORD
Call your fucking crew and go bust
that place wide open.
DCI BALL
Shut it down?
BRADFORD
YES!
DCI BALL
An off-licence?
​
NEIGHBOUR
How many fuckin’ times? YES! The
off licence!
BRADFORD quickly moves toward the kitchen...
BRADFORD
Let's go!
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - MORNING
...BRADFORD walks through the kitchen...
INT/EXT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - MORNING
...and into the hallway.
BRADFORD opens the front door and waits for DCI BALL.
Still waiting. Nothing but quietness.
BRADFORD wonders. Then:
DCI BALL (O.S.)
OOH AH AH! OO-OO-OO-OO AH! AH...!
The high-pitched cry of a chimpanzee resonates from within the kitchen. Heavy panting follows the shrill cries.
DCI BALL pops his head round the corner of the door, he sniffs the air; his facial expressions have transmogrified. Cautiously he steps inside the hallway; his back is bent, his chin juts forward, his arms hang limply mimicking the posture of a chimp. DCI BALL rocks and rolls his shoulders as he moves into the space...
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
OO-OO-OO-OO-OO AH! AH! OOH AH...
AH...!
DCI BALL keeps sniffing BRADFORD’S scent. His lips peeling back, snarling, revealing his brown teeth. He starts making staccato huffing sounds...
BRADFORD hides his bemusement.
DCI BALL moves closer to BRADFORD, confidence is replacing hesitancy. Slowly DCI BALL starts to straighten his back, his ape-like features morph into the stern and serious and threatening look of a pissed-off bent copper. His back fully straightened, his chest puffed out, his face right in BRADFORD’S - they just stare at each other.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
I ain’t nobody's fuckin’ monkey.
​
BRADFORD calmly holds the front door open.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
The only fuckin’ bidding I do is
mine. Get it?
BRADFORD does not react.
DCI BALL moves closer still, his words become even more intense and intimidating.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
Let it be said. What you’ve got for
sure, in me, is a tip-fuckin’-top
crimefighter. Not only am I a
heavyweight World Champion I’m also
the fuckin’ greatest shadow-boxer
who’s walked this pointless
earth... Do you dig what I’m
saying?
BRADFORD
That you’ll crack this case?
DCI BALL relaxes a little.
DCI BALL
One way or another I fuckin’ will.
DCI BALL gently slaps BRADFORD’S face a couple of times and then steps out of the house.
BRADFORD watches as DCI BALL crosses the road towards his car.
BRADFORD shuts the front door. Then heads back into the kitchen...
​
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - MORNING
BRADFORD pours the hot water from the kettle into the cup.
Stirs it.
Then leaves the room with his brew...
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - MORNING
BRADFORD sits down in the chair facing the front window.
Through the window DCI BALL is seen striding back up past the house.
BRADFORD sips his drink.
Hanging above the mantelpiece is a framed jigsaw of two tigers cuddling each other. The CAMERA slowly PUSHES IN.
Through that wall can be heard this: BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Muffled shouts. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Muffled shouts. Stomping down the stairs... Then: SLAM! BAM! KER-ASH! A sudden rush of smashing cracking banging tumbling screaming suffocating succumbing... A door slams shut.
Outside the window DCI BALL heads back down the street.
BRADFORD slurps his coffee.
Ding dong! Ding dong!
EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT
ROSE (30s) presses the doorbell again: Ding dong!
ROSE is the twin sister of Tulip. (The actor playing Tulip
will also play Rose.)
ROSE has a different style to Tulip. On her back is a backpack.
The door opens. BRADFORD is surprised; he looks deranged.
BRADFORD
Rose.
ROSE
Bradford.
Neither are sure what to say next.
BRADFORD
I was just finishing my coffee - I
think.
ROSE
That’s good. Are you good?
BRADFORD
No. What about you?
ROSE
Me neither. Can I stay?
BRADFORD
Here?
ROSE
Is it safe?
BRADFORD
Safe as houses.
ROSE
Maybe put some clothes on?
INT/EXT. CAR - NIGHT
From a distance, through a windscreen, ROSE can be seen entering Bradford’s house.
DCI BALL takes a drag on his cigarette, the tip’s burnt embers briefly brighten his face... DCI BALL blows the smoke out of the gap in the side window.
His eyes stay watching the house. The street and the house remain quiet.
DCI BALL pulls on the cigarette again. Then blows the smoke out the...
​
DCI BALL
(startled)
Holy Fuck!
NEIGHBOUR’S busted swollen distorted face is pressed up against the side window - it’s hideous.
DCI BALL (CONT'D)
You motherfucker!
DCI BALL shoves open the car door sending NEIGHBOUR jumping backwards like a kangaroo, laughing and grimacing - his left leg is cast in plaster, his head is bruised and scabby, his crutches are just about keeping him upright.
DCI BALL jumps out...
NEIGHBOUR
Easy pig!
​
DCI BALL grabs NEIGHBOUR...
DCI BALL
I’ll be sure to take it easy while
I’m fuckin’ your ass!
DCI BALL slams NEIGHBOUR into the car and bends him over the bonnet, slamming his face into the metal.
NEIGHBOUR
(through a squashed face)
Keep it up motherfucker! You’re my
ticket to being filthy fuckin’
rich!
DCI BALL closes the handcuffs around NEIGHBOUR’S wrists.
DCI BALL
Let’s take a walk!
DCI BALL pulls NEIGHBOUR upright and begins to frogmarch him down the street.
NEIGHBOUR
I’ll be sipping sangrias in
Torremolinos while you’re getting
ransacked in Wakefield.
DCI BALL
That so?
NEIGHBOUR
Fuck yeh!
​
INT. HOUSE (BACK BEDROOM) - NIGHT
BRADFORD shows ROSE the back bedroom - a single mattress on the floor.
BRADFORD
This is all I’ve got.
ROSE
It’ll do me.
BRADFORD heads back down the stairs.
ROSE looks about the room.
She flops the backpack onto the mattress. She pulls at the drawstring; from inside she discards jumpers and trousers and then pulls out a small loudhailer - she flicks a switch - and lifts it to her mouth, her breathing is amplified:
ROSE (CONT'D)
Oi! Sister!
ROSE shouts at the heavens.
ROSE (CONT'D)
I don’t know where you are but I
need you back. He needs you back.
We need you here right this second.
Not in hours or minutes but now...
​
ROSE waits and listens. Nothing.
ROSE (CONT'D)
Tulip get the fuck here!
​
ROSE stomps out of the room...
​
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - NIGHT
...along the landing.
​
INT. HOUSE (BATHROOM) - NIGHT
..and into the bathroom. ROSE lifts the loudhailer to her mouth again:
ROSE
Can you hear me now? Don’t be
playing stupid fucking games with
me. I can shout this shit out all
night if I have to. But be warned
it might be the final push to drive
your man doolally ‘cos he’s pretty
fuckin’ close to the edge...
ROSE waits and listens. Nothing.
​
ROSE (CONT'D)
C’mon babe! I need some sisterly
advice. I know I said that Diego
and I weren’t serious but I’m
vibing some disconcerting feelings
I ain’t felt before. So you need to
tell me what to do. You need to
tell me should I marry the
fucker!...
​
Silence.
ROSE (CONT'D)
This is bullshit!
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - NIGHT
ROSE stomps out of the bathroom and descends the stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs she heads for the kitchen...
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
...ROSE enters the kitchen.
BRADFORD, his back to ROSE, is stirring his cup of tea.
ROSE lifts the loudhailer once more to her lips:
ROSE
Where the fuck is she Bradford?
BRADFORD turns around. ROSE steps into BRADFORD’S face, loudhailer right in there:
ROSE (CONT'D)
Why ain’t she listening? Why ain’t
she thinking she made a
catastrophic booboo and step right
back into this kitchen and scream
at me to stop making this godawful
racket? Why isn’t she doing that
Bradford? I mean what the -
BRADFORD gently eases the loudhailer out of ROSE’S hand.
ROSE (CONT'D)
...fuck is that all about?
​
ROSE’S bottom lip starts to quiver, her eyes are full of tears, a couple escape and roll down her cheeks.
BRADFORD lifts the loudhailer to his mouth:
BRADFORD
Do you have sugar in your tea?
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - LATER
BRADFORD and ROSE sit either side of the kitchen table drinking tea.
ROSE watches BRADFORD.
ROSE
Did you find her?
BRADFORD stares at his drink.
BRADFORD
Yes.
ROSE
It’s nobody’s fault.
BRADFORD silently seems to disagree.
ROSE (CONT'D)
The dots didn’t connect for her.
Never did. Even as a kid.
INT. CHILDHOOD HOUSE (GARDEN) - DAY (FLASHBACK)
A GROUP of children run around laughing and playing tig.
Stood back from the GROUP is an eight-year-old TULIP. She wears a t-shirt with an embroidered tulip upon it. TULIP looks blank.
From out of the group ROSE comes running up toward TULIP, a huge smile across her face; she wears a t-shirt embroidered with a rose upon it.
ROSE
Come play.
TULIP
No.
ROSE
Why not?
TULIP
I don’t know how.
ROSE
It’s easy.
TULIP
It’s not.
ROSE
Yes it is.
TULIP
Give me your t-shirt.
ROSE
No.
TULIP
I want to be you.
ROSE
We’re identical.
TULIP
No we’re not.
ROSE takes off her t-shirt. TULIP takes off hers. They swap.
TULIP looks at ROSE. ROSE runs off and carries on playing the game.
TULIP looks blank. Her eyes fill up. Silently she begins to cry.
​
INT. CLINIC (PRIVATE ROOM) - DAY (FLASHBACK)
The room is austere. Young TULIP sits on a chair. Two metres in front of her sits a male PSYCHIATRIST.
PSYCHIATRIST
How do you feel?
TULIP
With my hands.
TULIP holds out her hands and wiggles her fingers.
The PSYCHIATRIST smiles.
PSYCHIATRIST
Stupid question.
TULIP
How do you feel?
The PSYCHIATRIST holds out his hands and wiggles his fingers.
TULIP looks blank.
PSYCHIATRIST
Do you get scared?
​
TULIP
Yes.
​
PSYCHIATRIST
What do you do when you get scared?
TULIP
I...
EXT. SCHOOL PLAYGROUND - DAY (FLASHBACK)
TULIP is surrounded by what looks like a hundred SCHOOL CHILDREN.
All of them are pulling faces, chanting and taunting TULIP telling her that she’s stupid.
ROSE is shoving back as many of the SCHOOL CHILDREN as possible, trying to protect her sister, but there are way too many, wave upon wave of wicked CHILDREN.
TULIP is looking extremely anxious. The pressure is building.
Grotesque face-pulling and incessant name-calling envelop TULIP.
ROSE is panicking, yelling at them to please STOP!
TULIP suddenly detonates. She charges straight at the CHILDREN in front of her knocking them aside, they go reeling backwards...
TULIP busts out of the circle running furiously, running straight at anybody in her way, colliding into and bumping CHILDREN left and right, running and running and running around the school yard, never stopping, on and on and on.
​
Her expression is stern, her vision is blinkered, just running forward powerfully...
The whole school has stopped playing, all the CHILDREN stare at TULIP. Occasionally someone has to step aside as TULIP runs past...
INT. CLASSROOM - DAY (FLASHBACK)
The CLASS are all gathered at the windows. Looking down on an empty playground except for a lone girl who is running and running...
The only child sat at their desk is ROSE.
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
ROSE takes a sip of her tea.
ROSE
Where did she get the gun?
BRADFORD shrugs his shoulders.
ROSE (CONT'D)
You knew she had a gun?
BRADFORD shakes his head.
ROSE (CONT'D)
So you didn’t go shooting the shit
out of some busted cars like Bonnie
and fuckin’ Clyde blasting fuck out
of windscreens and tyres and
bonnets hootin’ and a hollerin’
like motherfuckin’ rednecks from
Mississippi?
BRADFORD
No.
ROSE
Pity. She always wanted to do that.
(beat)
Do the police know where she got
the gun?
BRADFORD looks up at ROSE.
BRADFORD
The fuckwit leading the case hasn’t
a fucking clue.
INT. NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
DCI BALL has his ear to a glass up against the wall.
His lips have tightened.
NEIGHBOUR (O.S.)
Oi!
DCI BALL pulls himself away from the wall, glass in hand and leaves the kitchen...
INT. NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE (HALLWAY) - NIGHT
...into the hallway and then enters the living room.
INT. NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - NIGHT
NEIGHBOUR is handcuffed slumped in a chair.
NEIGHBOUR
That pitiful prick next door is
totally fuckin’ oblivious which is
what has caused all this fuckin’
mayhem...
DCI BALL strides over to NEIGHBOUR and punches him in the stomach - OOOOFT! NEIGHBOUR doubles-up.
DCI BALL leaves the room...
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
BRADFORD continues:
BRADFORD
I thought she was ok.
ROSE
She’s never been ok.
BRADFORD
Never?
ROSE
Never.
INT. CHILDHOOD HOME (TULIP’S BEDROOM) - DAY (FLASHBACK)
A teenage ROSE is terrified.
ROSE
(screaming)
MUUUUUMMMM!
She’s grasping the blood soaked wrists of TULIP; both are knelt in an expanding pool of red.
ROSE (CONT'D)
MUUUUUMMMMM!
TULIP stares blankly at ROSE.
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
ROSE has taken hold of BRADFORD’S hands.
ROSE
But you knew that.
BRADFORD
Kind of.
ROSE
Your version of Tulip is different
to mine, to Mother’s, to
everybody’s.
BRADFORD’S eyes are filling up again.
ROSE (CONT'D)
Your version of Tulip is only in
your head.
BRADFORD shakes his head.
ROSE (CONT'D)
It’s true.
Still shaking his head...
BRADFORD
Whoever sold her the gun needs to be
fucking hanged!
ROSE pushes back her chair and stands.
Looking down on BRADFORD.
ROSE
You do know, that at some point or
another she was going to succeed.
ROSE leaves the kitchen.
​
BRADFORD
(shouting after Rose)
Hanged and fucking quartered!
​
INT. NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
DCI BALL pulls his ear away from the wall, his head nods slightly and through gritted teeth and to no-one in particular:
DCI BALL
Motherfucker.
DCI BALL slams the glass into the floor shattering it into a thousand shards.
INT. NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - NIGHT
DCI BALL enters the room.
NEIGHBOUR
She confided in me.
DCI BALL
Shut it.
NEIGHBOUR
Told me what she was planning.
DCI BALL steps up to NEIGHBOUR.
DCI BALL
Did she now?
NEIGHBOUR
She did.
DCI BALL bends down, growling:
DCI BALL
And why do you think she’d confide
in you?
NEIGHBOUR shifts uncomfortably in his chair.
NEIGHBOUR
‘Cos I’m a good listener... and I
think she fancied me.
DCI BALL relaxes a little and smiles.
MUSIC suddenly erupts from the other side of the wall.
NEIGHBOUR nods at one of the crutches:
NEIGHBOUR (CONT'D)
Here, use that.
​
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - NIGHT
The same song as before: The Dominions - I Need Her.
The chorus kicks in LOUD.
ROSE suddenly breaks down, dropping to her knees, in floods of tears.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!...
INT. NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - NIGHT
The MUSIC seeps through the wall.
DCI BALL yanks up NEIGHBOUR by his lapels; unlocks the handcuffs and pushes him towards the hallway...
NEIGHBOUR
We going to the station?
​
INT. NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE (HALLWAY) - NIGHT
DCI BALL manhandles NEIGHBOUR forcing him toward the stairs then pushes past him and climbs the stairs.
DCI BALL
Up here.
NEIGHBOUR
I can barely fuckin’ walk!
DCI BALL disappears over the top of the landing.
One slow step at a time NEIGHBOUR climbs the stairs.
EXT. HOUSE (BACK YARD) - NIGHT
BRADFORD enters the back yard, the MUSIC follows him.
He leans against the boundary wall and lights a cigarette.
The night is calm, smoke from the tip travels heavenward.
INT. NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE (BACK BEDROOM) - NIGHT
DCI BALL is hidden deep inside the dark room. He watches BRADFORD, watches and waits.
DCI BALL turns to look back at the landing - NEIGHBOUR has just about reached the summit.
NEIGHBOUR
This better be fuckin’ worth it.
DCI BALL rushes toward NEIGHBOUR and shoves him in the chest sending NEIGHBOUR tumbling down the stairs.
EXT. HOUSE (BACK YARD) - NIGHT
BRADFORD finishes, flicking his butt - as it slams into the other wall tiny embers explode, a miniature firework.
BRADFORD enters the kitchen... The MUSIC stops.
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
...and sits down at the typewriter.
ROSE
Is the writing going well?
ROSE is at the door; her eyes red and swollen.
BRADFORD shrugs his shoulders.
ROSE (CONT'D)
You must know.
BRADFORD
You’d think. But no. I don’t.
ROSE
You visualise what you write?
BRADFORD is unsure what to say.
BRADFORD
Of course.
ROSE
That’s why you write about her?
BRADFORD shrugs his shoulders, again.
ROSE yawns.
BRADFORD
Off to bed?
ROSE
Off to mattress.
ROSE smiles and leaves.
BRADFORD waits and listens as he hears ROSE climb the stairs.
Then, looking down at the writing machine, he starts:
Tap Taptap tap tap tap tap taptap tap tap tap... ting!
​
EXT. NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE (BACK YARD) - NIGHT
The back door silently opens.
A skulking shadow creeps out, closing the door behind it.
Rat-like, DCI BALL scurries along the wall.
The shadow eases the back gate open. It quietly closes the gate behind it and then disappears down the long dark alley...
INT. HOUSE (BACK BEDROOM) - NIGHT
ROSE is at the window frowning. She follows the SHADOW as it disappears down the long dark alley...
ROSE draws the curtains.
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
BRADFORD is still typing: Taptap tap tap tap tap...
He’s getting quicker: Taptaptaptap tap taptaptap tap...
Getting lost: Taptaptaptaptapaptaptaptaptap...
TULIP (O.S.)
You’re on fire babe!
BRADFORD stops abruptly. Apprehensively he lifts his head.
TULIP is sat in the other chair, smiling.
TULIP (CONT'D)
Bonsoir Bradders.
BRADFORD
Hello T.
TULIP
You rubbed the lamp.
BRADFORD
I did. Tell me where you got the
gun.
TULIP
That old chestnut.
BRADFORD
Enough pissing about.
TULIP
But pissing is our pastime.
BRADFORD
It wasn’t. I wished it was.
TULIP
Don’t dwell on it.
BRADFORD
Dwelling helps.
TULIP
Dwell on the good times.
BRADFORD
That hurts.
BRADFORD looks elsewhere.
TULIP gets up, she moves over and straddles BRADFORD. Her hands cup his face. She kisses his tears.
TULIP
Let’s go.
BRADFORD
Go where?
​
EXT. DERELICT FARM - NIGHT
TULIP leads the way. She is up and over the fence like a ninja.
BRADFORD follows.
They slink through and under the stacked piles of wood. Glass
crunches under foot. Into a clearing...
TULIP
Over there!
​
BRADFORD
(whispering)
Why aren’t you whispering?
TULIP
No need.
BRADFORD
Ain’t there a motherfucker of a dog
on site.
TULIP
Is there?
​
BRADFORD
There should be.
TULIP
Why’s that?
BRADFORD
To guard this place.
TULIP pulls out the gun. Points it skyward: BANG!...
BRADFORD clasps his ears.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!... The bangs reverberate for ages.
Finally silence.
TULIP
No dog.
BRADFORD
Fuck me!
TULIP
I intend to cupcake.
BRADFORD sees the collapsed carcass of a Rover 3500, the oxidised shell of a Ford Transit and the burnt husk of a Toyota Camry.
TULIP pulls out some shells from her pocket and re-loads the revolver.
She holds out the gun for BRADFORD.
TULIP (CONT'D)
(smiling)
Do it!
​
BRADFORD holds the gun out front in front of his eye.
He pulls the trigger: BANG!... Boiiing!
His face relaxes. BANG!... Phut! Ping!
TULIP (O.S.) (CONT’D)
HoooooWeeeee!
​
BANG!... Pssssssss!
​
TULIP (O.S.) (CONT’D)
Yeehaw!
BANG!... Phud. Weeeeeeee... KER-ASH!
TULIP (O.S.) (CONT’D)
Hot damn!
​
BANG!... Whiiizzzzzzz!
BRADFORD’S eyes are electric.
BANG!... BOOM!
INT. DERELICT FARM BARN - NIGHT
A campfire burns, it cracks and snaps and smokes.
TULIP and BRADFORD look at each other through the flames.
BRADFORD
What’s it like where you’re at?
TULIP
I’ve been to worse places.
BRADFORD
Where exactly are you?
TULIP
(shrugging her shoulders)
God knows.
BRADFORD
God ain’t told you?
TULIP
Fuckin’ silent as normal.
BRADFORD
How come?
TULIP
Ask her. I’d be stunned if she
replied.
BRADFORD
But your place exists?
TULIP
I presume.
BRADFORD
But you can’t pinpoint it?
TULIP
Nope. No coordinates. No map. No
name.
BRADFORD
You’re just someplace.
TULIP
Must be.
BRADFORD
Purgatory?
TULIP
Don’t think so.
BRADFORD
Why’s that?
TULIP
I’m not alone.
BRADFORD
Should you be alone?
TULIP
I’m not certain about that.
BRADFORD
So it could be purgatory?
TULIP
I s’pose.
BRADFORD
Anybody famous?
TULIP
Just vague faces.
BRADFORD
No arms or legs?
TULIP
It confuses me. I walk and stuff.
BRADFORD
Walk on what?
TULIP
I don’t know that neither.
BRADFORD
You walked over me.
TULIP
I walked with you. Like I walk with
you now.
BRADFORD
You walked away from me.
TULIP
Whatever.
BRADFORD
Are you in hell?
The flames flip and flap and occasionally spit.
​
TULIP
Should I be?
BRADFORD
Some say you should.
TULIP
I don’t give a shit what some say.
Just what you say.
BRADFORD
I say that you fucked me good and
proper.
TULIP
Out there and in here.
(tapping her head)
​
BRADFORD
Come on home T.
TULIP stares into the flames.
​
TULIP
I’m stuck. My decision can’t be
rewritten.
BRADFORD
What’s this?
BRADFORD gestures to TULIP and himself.
TULIP
This is you coming to me. You got
to make the ground.
BRADFORD
Are you better with or without me?
TULIP
Better with you than without you
wherever I am babe. But better
here.
BRADFORD
Better pack my bags.
​
INT. HOUSE (BACK BEDROOM) - MORNING
Early morning sunshine cuts through a gap in the curtains.
ROSE is laid on her mattress, staring at the ceiling, wearing t-shirt and pants. Her other clothes, the backpack and the loudhailer are discarded about her.
Still sleepy she rises up from the mattress.
ROSE leaves the bedroom...
​
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - MORNING
...and shuffles along the landing.
Bradford’s bedroom door is open, the bed is empty.
ROSE gingerly enters...
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - MORNING
...pinching her nose.
Plucking up the courage she unclamps her nostrils.
Slowly she looks about the austere room.
​
She walks over to the wardrobe and opens the doors. Still hanging up are clothes belonging to Tulip. ROSE selects a pair of distinctive trousers - she pulls them on.
Then moves over to the chest of drawers. She opens the top drawer. Rose removes her t-shirt and selects one of Tulip's t-shirts and slips it on over her head.
ROSE closes the top drawer and opens the second: women’s pants and blouses etc..
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - MORNING
BRADFORD is collapsed, unconscious, across the small table. One arm dangles down and the other is draped over the typewriter. His face twitches and his mouth dribbles.
ROSE watches him.
Then she leaves the room...
INT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - MORNING
ROSE opens the front door...
EXT. HOUSE - MORNING
ROSE shuts the front door gently.
An ambulance is parked outside Neighbour’s house.
ROSE heads out of the front yard, swings left, and heads down the street.
Two PARAMEDICS exit Neighbour’s house carrying a body bag.
​
INT. HAIR SALON - DAY
ROSE is sat in the stylist’s chair. She holds up a photograph of Tulip.
The STYLIST nods.
INT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - DAY
ROSE enters the house - her hair now cut and styled exactly as Tulip had hers. Dressed in Tulip's clothes she is Tulip in every way.
ROSE closes the door behind her.
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - DAY
ROSE walks into the kitchen.
ROSE
Rise ‘n’ shine!
No response from BRADFORD.
ROSE (CONT’D)
Bradford.
Still sleeping. ROSE softly shakes his slumped body.
BRADFORD slowly stirs. He sucks up his drool. Sleepily he sits up in his chair.
ROSE sits down in the other chair.
ROSE (CONT’D)
Afternoon.
BRADFORD wipes his mouth.
BRADFORD
Is it?
ROSE
Yeh.
​
BRADFORD
Time with you is tough to navigate.
ROSE
Thanks.
BRADFORD
Last time —
ROSE
What about last time?
BRADFORD
Please, tell me about the gun.
ROSE pauses. BRADFORD waits.
ROSE
It’s upstairs.
BRADFORD doesn’t react.
BRADFORD
It’s upstairs?
ROSE studies him.
ROSE
Always has been. Hasn’t it?
BRADFORD
I don’t know. Has it?
ROSE
In the pants drawer.
BRADFORD, confused, gets to his feet. He leaves the kitchen...
​
INT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - DAY
He turns and climbs up the stairs slowly...
INT. HOUSE (LANDING) - DAY
Then along the landing...
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - DAY
BRADFORD heads straight to the chest of drawers. He hesitates, then pulls open the second drawer. Rummaging - finding something... He lifts out the revolver.
BRADFORD is flummoxed. Wide-eyed he stares at the gun. He stares at it a long time.
ROSE (O.S.)
Find it?
BRADFORD turns. He holds up the revolver.
BRADFORD
I don’t get it.
ROSE moves over toward BRADFORD, he looks uneasy.
ROSE
Don’t get what?
BRADFORD
Don’t get this.
ROSE
Ain’t that the gun?
BRADFORD
I don’t know. Is it?
ROSE strokes BRADFORD’S cheek. The act sends a shudder through him. His eyes close.
ROSE cups his face.
ROSE
(whispering)
I’m not Tulip.
BRADFORD
(eyes still shut, he
whispers too)
It is. You are. Your touch.
ROSE tidies his fringe.
ROSE
I’m Rose.
​
BRADFORD
Why say that?
ROSE embraces him, cheek to cheek. Her eyes fill up.
ROSE
I miss her too.
BRADFORD
I feel your heartbeat.
ROSE
One heartbeat is like any other’s.
BRADFORD
The rhythm is T.
ROSE
The rhythm is Rose.
BRADFORD
Your skin; you smell of T.
ROSE
We don’t smell the same.
BRADFORD
The skin is the SAME.
ROSE
The smell is different.
BRADFORD
It isn’t —
Brrrap!
BRADFORD sniffs, his eyes slide open. He pushes ROSE away.
BRADFORD (CONT’D)
Christ Almighty!
ROSE
What?
BRADFORD
ROSE!
​
ROSE
Yeah!
​
BRADFORD
Holy fuck!
​
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - DAY
BRADFORD and ROSE sit in separate chairs.
Both stare at the revolver on the coffee table.
ROSE picks it up and puts the gun to her temple.
ROSE
Any bullets?
BRADFORD
I dumped them down a drain.
ROSE
You definite?
BRADFORD
One hundred percent.
The trigger is pulled - KA-BANG!
BRADFORD jumps; specks of blood splatter upon his face.
NOISE is sucked out of the air.
BRADFORD doesn’t move, can’t move. Eyes bulging. STUNNED. Blood trickles down his face like tears.
​
A piercing sound feeds into the void.
BRADFORD blinks. Slowly he stands. Vomit cascades out of his
mouth. BRADFORD stumbles towards the door...
​
INT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - DAY
BRADFORD trips over his own feet, his face smashes into the under stair wall, he collapses to his knees; blood flows like a waterfall down his face.
He gets to his feet again. Into the kitchen...
​
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - DAY
The room is spinning; BRADFORD’S inner ear is fucked. He braces himself against the nearest wall, willing the room to quit rolling on the high seas.
The high-pitched sharp frequency continues.
Finally BRADFORD steps forward and swoosh... crack! He slips on his own puddle of blood. He slides and crawls his way to the other side of the table. He pulls himself up the chair.
He fumbles for a piece of paper, shoving it into the machine, crinkled and smeared with blood, he turns the dial, the paper rolls under and up the other side. He starts typing frantically, haphazardly, then his eyes roll upwards his neck goes limp and... thwack! he headbutts the typewriter.
BRADFORD is out cold.
Ding dong! Ding dong!
EXT. HOUSE - DAY
MARIE-ODILE is stood on the doorstep.
She rings the bell again: Ding dong! Ding dong!
Impatiently she steps over to the window and peers through the blinds...
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - DAY
The CAMERA slowly pushes into the blinds, into MARIE-ODILE’S startled bulging eyes. MARIE-ODILE erupts... The ear- splitting frequency sound masks MARIE-ODILE’S agonised cry...
The CAMERA pushes forward into the image of two tigers cuddling; red spots pepper the picture.
The shrill sound morphs into the thumping beat...
EXT. FAIR GROUND (ABSTRACTION) - NIGHT
Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph...!
BRADFORD, his expression is dead, sat motionless inside the waltzer as it spins viciously.
The world outside the car is a kaleidoscope of blurred colour. Screams of the funfair merge with the sounds of an ambulance siren that merge with the pummelling techno beat.
All the voices shout, shouting to be heard.
PARAMEDIC 1 (V.O.)
DOA. Bullet to the head.
Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph...!
PARAMEDIC 2 (V.O.)
We got one for the psyche ward!
Sirens shrieking. Unph! Unph! Unph...!
DCI BALL (V.O.)
Lock this killer up!
Clanging cell doors slamming shut. Unph! Unph! Unph...!
CORONER (V.O.)
The science says suicide.
DCI BALL (V.O.)
Again?
CORONER (V.O.)
Again!
BRADFORD’S eyes locked on nothing.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!... Half muffled church bells
ring out...
​
REVEREND (V.O.)
We commit their bodies to the
ground.
The wailings of the mourners. Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph...!
​
MARIE-ODILE (V.O.)
MURDERER!
Unph! Unph! Unph! Unph...!
MARIE-ODILE (V.O.)
(screeching)
My beautiful babies!
A gavel slamming down repeatedly...
JUDGE (V.O.)
Innocent. Innocent. Innocent...!
MARIE-ODILE (V.O.)
NOOOOOOOOOOO...!
​
MARIE-ODILE’S strangled cry dissipates.
The spinning starts to wind down; getting slower and slower.
​
The volume of the MUSIC decreases, getting lower and lower.
BRADFORD is still set in stone.
The flashing lights are now focussed.
The waltzer eases to a stop.
No music.
​
Just the sounds of a worker shutting up shop.
The lights switch off in a staggered manner.
BRADFORD isn’t moving.
WORKER (O.S.)
Time to go buddy. I’m gagging for a
pint.
​
EXT. HOUSE - DAY
The street is deserted. The house is quiet.
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - DAY
From high the CAMERA lowers, incredibly slowly.
BRADFORD lies on the bed, foetal position; rougher than before, he’s not washed or shaved or changed his clothes, a bedraggled mess.
TULIP is spooning him.
INT. HOUSE (BACK BEDROOM) - NIGHT
Bursting in LOUD music by The Monks playing Monk Chant.
From close in on BRADFORD’S face the CAMERA tracks back. He is wearing bulky headphones, his moves are out of sync and out of rhythm with the beat. His body expresses the pain within, it buckles and expands and punches and kicks... BRADFORD is wasted; his face contorts.
The CAMERA cuts. The music is tinny and quiet. TULIP is stood in a corner, the CAMERA pushes in. She is smoking a cigarette, a look of concern on her face.
INT. HOUSE (BEDROOM) - DAY
BRADFORD lies spreadeagled and comatose on top of the bed.
TULIP has the loudhailer inches from BRADFORD’S head.
TULIP
Time to wake up motherfucker! Time
to get your shit together. I heard
that this thing can bring back the
dead...
BRADFORD does not move.
TULIP (CONT'D)
I take it you didn’t hear that.
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - NIGHT
The window in the centre of frame. The CAMERA retreats.
Through the glass: BRADFORD is standing in the back yard having a piss. He finishes and moves out of shot.
The CAMERA continues to pull back - it reveals a vase of wilted roses.
BRADFORD enters the kitchen. He grabs the vase. He dumps the flowers into the bin and pours the water down the sink.
TULIP (O.S.)
Time to start writing again babe.
BRADFORD pauses. He turns to TULIP and groggily asks:
BRADFORD
Am I writing now?
TULIP
No.
BRADFORD
How’s that?
TULIP
Fuck knows.
BRADFORD
Why write then?
TULIP
‘Cos we want to find Rose.
BRADFORD
I doubt she’ll want to find me.
TULIP
She’ll be cool.
BRADFORD
Cool with her head blown off?
TULIP
Look at me - I’m cool.
BRADFORD
That you are. Are you saying that I
was responsible for your head being
blown off?
TULIP
No babe I ain’t. It didn’t come out
right. That was all me. I’ll have a
word with Rose.
BRADFORD
Keep me company.
TULIP
I’m a distraction.
BRADFORD
A beautiful distraction.
TULIP gives BRADFORD a kiss.
TULIP
Thanks babe. Get cracking.
TULIP leaves the room.
BRADFORD looks at the typewriter.
He bites his lips.
Then heads over to the writing machine.
Sitting down.
Hands hovering over the keys.
He relaxes.
Then blows a raspberry —
BRADFORD
Fucking focus.
His fingers start tapping slowly and methodically. He stops.
BRADFORD stares at the words. He starts typing again, quicker this time... He stops again.
Staring at the machine. A minute goes by.
Sat still. Frozen. Staring at the silent writing mechanism.
Another minute goes by.
He’s locked in. Slack-jawed. Blinking now and again.
Just staring...
Ding dong! Ding dong!
BRADFORD jumps up.
INT/EXT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - DAY
BRADFORD opens the door; daylight streams into the hallway.
DCI BALL
Hello. Hello. Hello.
BRADFORD
(eyes squinting)
What?
DCI BALL
Let me in.
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - DAY
BRADFORD switches on the kettle. Turning round...
DCI BALL is reading the sheet in the typewriter.
DCI BALL
Writer’s block?
BRADFORD
No.
DCI BALL
A few sentences per day is a
blockage.
BRADFORD
The day ain’t over.
DCI BALL
What day do you think it is?
BRADFORD ignores the question.
DCI BALL steps up to BRADFORD.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
How’s it shaping up in there?
He taps BRADFORD’S temple.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
Is it shipshape or shape shifting?
BRADFORD looks certifiable.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
Is your shit disintegrating? Is
there a black hole forming inside?
Is it sucking you in?
BRADFORD
Fit as a fucking fiddle.
Behind DCI BALL, TULIP appears around the side of the door.
BRADFORD doesn’t bat an eye.
DCI BALL
Fit as a fiddle?
BRADFORD straightens his back.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
That ain’t true.
BRADFORD’S left eye twitches.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
No guilt?
​
TULIP disappears.
BRADFORD
Guilt for what?
DCI BALL
Facilitating two deaths.
BRADFORD
How did I do that?
Two eyes twitching.
DCI BALL
Hand on heart, no idea.
TULIP’S smiling head reappears; atop it she wears a tall cone-shaped dunce’s hat - a large red capital D on a white background.
BRADFORD
But I’m guilty?
​
DCI BALL
I know that. You know that.
BRADFORD
Back off.
DCI BALL
That I’ll never do.
BRADFORD pushes DCI BALL.
BRADFORD
It’s your breath.
DCI BALL smiles.
BRADFORD (CONT’D)
It’s gassy.
DCI BALL reaches into his inside pocket.
DCI BALL
I’ve got some things.
He pulls out two separate somethings, both are wrapped in handkerchiefs. He offers both to BRADFORD.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
You have a choice.
Proffering the left hand:
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
Would you like Tulip?
Proffering the right hand:
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
Or would you like Rose?
BRADFORD just keeps his eyes on DCI BALL.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
I think you want this one.
​
DCI BALL pushes forward the left gift.
BRADFORD looks at it. Then takes it.
DCI BALL watches, leering.
BRADFORD unwraps a black revolver.
BRADFORD’S whole body seems to twitch.
The gun lays flat on the handkerchief in the palm of his hand. BRADFORD stares at it.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
Seems fair you should do the done
thing.
BRADFORD lifts his head. In the corner of his vision he sees TULIP.
TULIP winks at BRADFORD.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
Join ‘em.
BRADFORD
Me?
DCI BALL
Why not?
BRADFORD looks from DCI BALL to the gun then back to DCI BALL.
BRADFORD
Why?
DCI BALL
Right a wrong.
BRADFORD
If I could.
DCI BALL
You can.
TULIP raises an outstretched arm, her hand in the shape of a gun. She points it at the back of DCI BALL’S head.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
Do it!
​
TULIP repeatedly pulls the trigger, silent bang bang bang
bangs...
​
BRADFORD raises the gun and points it straight into DCI BALL’S face.
DCI BALL is calm.
BRADFORD
What about the off-licence?
DCI BALL
What about it?
​
The muzzle is inches from DCI BALL’S nose. Calmly he says:
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
Best put that thing in your own
fuckin’ mouth.
BRADFORD’S face is clammy too.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
Kill the one responsible.
BRADFORD is looking nervous. His gun holding hand is unsure and fidgety.
BRADFORD
Me?
​
DCI BALL
Who else?
BRADFORD glances quickly at TULIP.
TULIP has relaxed her arm but her eyes are insistent.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
If you don’t want to blow that
muzzle then just pop it under your
chin and launch that bullet to your
brain.
BRADFORD’S hand is shaking.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
(screams)
COME ON!
BRADFORD suddenly gasps and draws in a huge breath - he’s not been breathing. He drops his arm.
DCI BALL grins.
DCI BALL (CONT’D)
Give it two or three weeks and -
BOOM! We’ll be cleaning up your
smithereens.
DCI BALL grins.
​
BRADFORD shakily cleans the gun free of prints with the handkerchief.
BRADFORD
Here.
​
He shoves the wrapped gun into DCI BALL’S hand.
DCI BALL
Are you sure?
​
BRADFORD
Go! I’ve got someplace to be.
DCI BALL
(smirking)
Where, the fuckin’ living room?
​
EXT/INT. HOUSE - DAY
BRADFORD opens the front door.
DCI BALL steps outside.
A breeze is picking up. DCI BALL turns up the collar of his coat.
DCI BALL
Adios amigo.
BRADFORD shuts the front door...
INT. HOUSE (HALLWAY) - DAY
...and quickly looks through the letterbox: DCI BALL is seen trudging down the yard path and out onto the street.
BRADFORD stands and heads back to the kitchen. TULIP jumps out of the living room, a big smile on her face:
TULIP
(excited)
In here. Now! Close your eyes.
INT. HOUSE (LIVING ROOM) - DAY
BRADFORD is sat in the middle of the sofa. Both eyes shut.
The SCREEN goes black.
Then:
TULIP (O.S.)
Oh my, oh my!
ROSE (O.S.)
You like what you see?
TULIP (O.S.)
You’re rockin’ that look babe!
ROSE (O.S.)
Damn don’t I know it!
TULIP (O.S.)
You always had the thing!
ROSE (O.S.)
My thing is your thing.
TULIP (O.S.)
Fuck yeah! I am HOT!
ROSE (O.S.)
The hottest babe I ever did see!
BRADFORD opens one eye, the right eye.
TULIP is sat in the armchair cross-legged.
TULIP
(pointing at Rose)
YOU are the hottest babe I ever did
see!
ROSE (O.S.)
SHIT! You could be right.
TULIP
Tell me if I’ve ever been wrong!
BRADFORD closes the right eye and opens the left.
ROSE, sat in the opposite armchair, identical in every way, is mirroring TULIP’S performance.
ROSE
I hold my hands up.
She does just that.
ROSE (CONT’D)
To the best of my knowledge you’ve
never been wrong.
TULIP (O.S.)
Wait a sec!
ROSE
I’m waiting.
BRADFORD opens both eyes.
TULIP
Maybe I was wrong in choosing this
dipshit asswipe!
ROSE
(jabbing her head in
Bradford’s direction)
You mean this particular dipshit
asswipe sitting here?
TULIP
Amen sister!
ROSE
He ain’t perfect but —
TULIP
No ma’am he ain’t.
ROSE
He did say I had an empty gun.
TULIP
That he did sister.
ROSE
But if he didn’t —
TULIP turns to BRADFORD.
TULIP
Why did you do that?
BRADFORD’S eyes switch back and forth between TULIP and ROSE.
They finally settle on TULIP (he hopes):
BRADFORD
Tulip.
TULIP
Yeh.
BRADFORD
Am I insane?
TULIP
Kinda depends on what you’re
judging sanity by.
BRADFORD holds out his palms and indicates the two women.
BRADFORD
Is this shit real?
TULIP turns to ROSE.
​
TULIP
Is he bonkers?
ROSE
Who-the-fuck isn’t?
​
BRADFORD is not laughing.
TULIP
Babe. We ain’t going anywhere.
TULIP stands.
BRADFORD
But you wanted me to let go.
TULIP holds out her hands.
TULIP
That was a mistake.
From some other place, a distant space, a beat begins to drift up into the room: Lil Louis’ Blackout (Phase2).
TULIP (CONT’D)
Let’s dance.
Louder and louder...
​
Suddenly the music SLAMS into the next scene...
​
INT. BOITE DE NUIT - NIGHT
On the deserted dance floor are TULIP and BRADFORD sweaty and sexy. Their moves appear like slow motion. Their arms and legs like tentacles entwined within each other’s.
The BEAT kicks in.
The two become excited serpents slithering in and around each other as their bodies pulsate to the MUSIC. Two harmonious spirits expressing pleasure and lust. An expression of bliss exudes from the two lovers’ faces.
The BEAT picks up...
LIL’ LOUIS
Blackout! At the flick of God’s
switch...
The MUSIC carries over...
INT. HOUSE (KITCHEN) - DAY
CLOSE UP on BRADFORD’S face, concentrating. His eyes looking downwards, then upwards, catching a thought, an idea, inspiration... His head constantly moving in time to the MUSIC.
The CAMERA slowly tracks back revealing BRADFORD typing with gusto...
Tracking back further we see the typewriter, we see the table and then we see specks and splats of blood decorating the walls...
The further the CAMERA tracks back the bloodier the kitchen becomes... It reveals a horrific scene - a homicide or a suicide?
Suddenly the CAMERA reveals the body of DCI BALL dead from a hole in his head, blown back onto Tulip's chair...
Abruptly the MUSIC stops. All that is heard is the tappety- tap-tapping of the typewriter’s keys as BRADFORD - head still nodding to the beat of the silent groove - writes frenetically.
The CAMERA continues to retreat. BRADFORD continues to type...
CUT TO:
​
BLACK SCREEN.
The MUSIC is LOUD.
END CREDITS