Grinton part one
Grinton
Act one
BLACK SCREEN
SOUND FX- panting, the nervous heavy breathing of a young woman, the rustling of fabric upon skin.
Jill
(a tired voice, exhausted, scared)
…no….please no…..AAAARRRRRRGGGHHH
QUICK CUT: series of images:
A young woman tied to a bed in a vest, pyjama bottoms, and bedsocks.
Close up- fingers tickling her armpits, the body bathed in perspiration, bucking under the tickling.
Close up- a foot tied to the corners of the bed- fingers on the fabric of the sock, tugging gently, stretching the fabric taut.
Jill
…please no….not the feet….
Close up- the fabric stretching, slipping off a bare, slender foot with unpainted nails
Close up- Jill’s vest, riding up the abdomen to reveal the belly button
Close up- a mouth descending to blow a raspberry on the stomach- Jill screams in laughter.
Close up- the sole of the bare foot, toes grasped and pulled backwards, fingers gently stroking the sole.
Close up- a pair of scissors, glinting in the bedroom light- Jill’s other sock ripped off and the hem of Jill’s trouser leg pulled away, the scissors inserted, sliding upwards, fabric cutting evenly.
Jill
…not that…please, not that!!!
Close up- the pyjama pants cut away, revealing her briefs. A finger inserted into the briefs….the scissors gently folding around the fabric, a snip of metal on metal….
INT- BEDROOM- NIGHT
Jill sits upright, panting, woken from her nightmare. She fumbles for the light, knocking a glass of water onto the floor.
Jill
Oh…..fuck it!
She finds the light switch and we see her for the first time- young, attractive, muscular. She gathers her knees into her stomach, bare feet folding one over the other protectively. Her breathing slowly returns to normal.
She glances to the clock on the bedside table- 05:59
Jill steadies herself, and lies back down, closing her eyes.
Close up- Alarm clicks onto 06:00…and a loud radio station comes on the air.
DJ
…coming onto six am and you know what I really hate about mornings? Annoying radio announcers!
The volume nearly blasts Jill out of bed. She jumps with the sudden noise, rolling over and smashing her fist into the snooze button, knocking the radio alarm off the bedside table.
CUT TO: EXT- DAYLIGHT- ROADSIDE CAFÉ
INT- ROADSIDE CAFÉ
Jill enters, dressed in boots, blue jeans, a white t-shirt and grey cardigan for the crisp early morning summer weather. The café isn’t too busy. She spots Dean at a corner table, smiles, and heads over. A waitress queries and Jill indicates her friend.
CLOSE UP- TABLE
Jill sits on the other side from Dean- she looks exhausted.
Dean
Most people go to bed to sleep, you know.
Jill
Most people don’t have nightmares! You ordered me a coffee and the continental breakfast?
Dean
That would explain the nightmares! Shouldn’t eat cheese last thing. Old wives tale.
Jill
I thought you said you got that one from your mother?
Dean
…she was an old wife! (a waitress approaches) one more black coffee, and the continental breakfast, please?
Waitress
Sure thing.
The waitress disappears. Dean puts a tape recorder on the table between them.
Jill
What’s this? The student interviewing the teacher?
Dean
I am supposed to learn from you. Bill was pretty specific. Consider me a shadow on this assignment. No job too menial, no task too base. Just point me in the direction and say, ‘Dean, go and get me….something or other’, whatever ‘something or other’ happens to be.
Jill
Cotton buds from the chemist?
Dean
For your camera?
Jill
For my earwax- got a cold coming on.
Dean
…that’s disgusting. If that’s what you want me to do, then fair enough- but I’m warning you I heave at the sight of female pruning rituals. So, what was the nightmare about?
Jill
Kind of embarrassing.
Dean
You’re the reporter! I thought you were supposed to dig out people’s dirty little secrets! Don’t tell me you can dish it out but can’t take it in return? Come on! Consider me your private interviewer. Your confessor, maybe. Like Torquemada but without the cardinal’s robes.
Jill
I was being tickled…
Dean
(starting to smile)
kinky so far…
Jill
That was it. Anyway, tickling isn’t kinky!
Dean
That would depend on how it’s done, and whether its willing or not.
The waitress returns with the coffee and they let her depart before continuing.
Jill
Someone had me tied down to a bed and they were….
Dean
…yes?
Jill
Sorry, Dean. If I told you more, you might unbalance the table. Remember, you’re only along as my student- nothing more. I don’t need a personal confessor.
Dean
You need my knowledge.
Jill
So far, your knowledge stops at the inquisition.
Dean
I meant, my local knowledge. I came from the area, you know.
Jill
So you can tell one yokel from another? Come on! This is hardly difficult stuff! A story is a story is a story- there’s another quote for you, and a more printable one than the quote you just came out with!
Dean
Don’t knock my contribution until you’ve heard it. I might have something to add to this- even if it’s just an opinion.
Jill
…go on then, knock yourself out. What is your opinion? We’ll be in the village of Grinton just after lunch. They’ve had a virtually non-existent crime rate for the past six years. The local police don’t even bother driving round anymore. Why do you think the criminals of England’s home counties leave this place alone?
Dean
…the village has a vigilante mob with shotguns. Criminals are shot, skinned, and their pelts hung on the ‘welcome to Grinton’ sign.
Jill
…I was being serious! And why did Toni stop reporting in? Why has no-one reported her missing?
Dean
Maybe it’s just a nice place that no-one wants to spoil! There are good people left in the world, you know. We’re not all as cynical as you and Bill. As for Toni, maybe she’s embarked on a mad, passionate love affair with a tall, dark nice guy and doesn’t want to report in.
Jill
If that’s a theory, your career as a journalist might not last too long. Nice people don’t sell stories.
The waitress arrives with her breakfast, Dean stands up as the waitress departs.
Jill
You not staying?
Dean
I need a leak. Back in a bit. (pause) you should try being nice some time. Maybe try the odd smile. You might even like it.
Jill
I have plenty to smile about- you just never see me doing it.
As Dean walks past, he tickles her under the armpit. Jill yelps and nearly drops her croissant.
Jill
Stop it! That’s not funny!
Dean
You’re starting to smile, though. That’s got to be worth something…
Dean walks off with a satisfied smile. Jill tries to act huffy as she begins to eat.
EXT- ROAD INTO GRINTON
Jill’s car passes the ‘Welcome to Grinton’ sign. The sleepy English village can be seen in the near distance amidst a rural, forested setting.
EXT- GRINTON SQUARE
A typical English village square- post office, pub, home made preserve and biscuit shop, cobbled floor, and in the centre of the square, a tall, stone Celtic cross and a pair of working wooden stocks in stone frames.
Jill drives slowly around the square looking for a place to park her car. Her eyes keep returning to…
POV- LOOKING AT THE STOCKS
…As seen through her car window.
INT- CAR
Dean
Something wrong?
Jill shakes her head and pulls into a space before the pub.
Jill
Just thinking of last night. (shakes her head) forget it. Let’s go in.
EXT- PUB
Jill and Dean exit the car and collect their holdalls from the boot. Some of the villagers glance across at them. Dean ignores them, amused by Jill’s facial reaction to the stocks- part revulsion, part fascination.
They enter the Pub beneath it’s swinging sign- ‘The Tickled Trout’.
INT- PUB
A typical old English country pub- exposed black painted beams, white washed walls, carpet, comfortable wooden chairs around circular tables, bench seats in the windows, and a blazing fire. Few people are in this time of the morning. The portly landlord, Ged and his wife, Sue, smile from behind the bar.
Jill
(approaching the bar)
warm in here, isn’t it?
Ged
That’d be my wife’s doing. Sue (he indicates) can’t stand the cold, even in summer. Has to have the fire on. Not many pubs have real fireplaces round ‘ere, so we thought as not we’d ‘ave ours on. Shame to ‘ave it and not use it!
Sue comes over from her end of the bar to stand beside her husband.
Sue
I think it creates a nice, cosy atmosphere! Though with as many clothes as you’ve got on, you ought to be warm enough!
Jill
Too warm! Going to change out of my boots when I settle in.
Ged
Go ahead! Carpets are cleaned regularly round ‘ere. My barmaids work barefoot in summer- they say they’re more comfortable.
Sue
So am I, for that matter. Got nothing on my feet at the moment. Feel free to do the same, dear. You’ll be wanting a room, I take it?
Jill
Please. I couldn’t get a reservation at first, but then one came free last night. Someone phoned my office and left a message?
Ged
You’d be Jill Chambers?
Jill
I am.
Ged
That was me! Ged Walker, I’m the landlord. Lovely to meet you! We had a late cancellation for tomorrow night.
Jill
That’s kind of why I’m here…
Sue
You’re here for the festival of laughter?
Jill
Comedy festivals are okay, but I was really interested in finding someone. There was a girl in the village, visiting from London. Toni Lane? Dark hair, early twenties, smaller than me.
Sue
I remember her. She just paid her bill and left. Said she had important matters to attend to. Have you had breakfast?
Dean
We ate on the way in.
Sue
Grand….shall I take you up to your rooms?
INT- PUB CORRIDOR
Sue reaches the top of the stairs and steps into the corridor. She’s an attractive early forty something in jeans, vest t shirt and bare feet.
Sue
…festival attracts folk from all over the world. America, Europe- you’d be surprised!
Jill
(not really listening but answering politely)
any good comedians performing?
Sue
It’s not that kind of festival, dear- but then if you’re here, you can find out for yourself!
Jill
If my report is done in time, I’ll have to be going.
Sue reaches the two rooms and opens them up. She leads Jill through a door marked…
INT- THE PEACOCK SUITE
A pleasant room with a wooden framed bed, table, wardrobe, vanity mirror, and en suite bathroom. Jill looks around whilst Sue stands in the middle of the room and glances at Jill’s feet.
Sue
You’ll be wanting to get your socks off soon, no doubt…
Jill exits to the bathroom, eyeing Sue as if she’s a little strange as she goes.
Jill
…in a minute.
Sue
…I’ll leave you to unpack. Call me if you need anything.
Sue leaves as Jill re-enters. She looks about the room and drifts over to the bed.
CLOSE UP- BED
An old, carved bed of dark oak. The head board and foot board are unusual- each has two holes ornately carved into the design, and each board is made of two pieces, evidenced by the horizontal joint that spans the entire width, bisecting the holes perfectly. Jill lies on the bed and her boots clunk on the foot board- she looks down- the bed is a little short.
She gets off the bed and begins to unpack, opening her luggage and moving to hang things in the wardrobe.
CLOSE UP- WARDROBE DRAWER
Jill opens a drawer and finds lengths of elasticised chord. She finds lengths of rope in another. Confused, she stares at the white rope, wondering what they could have been used for…
FX- KNOCK ON DOOR
Jill jumps out of her skin and spins around…
CLOSE UP- DOOR-
Dean stands at the open door, apologetically.
Dean
…sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you. Sue must have left the door ajar.
Jill
That’s okay. I was just unpacking. (she frowns) how come you got a room so easily? Mine was a cancellation…
Dean
I was already booked in here.
Jill
Really? You never said.
Dean
It was Bill’s idea that I partner up with Toni for a bit. Then when she didn’t call in with a story, Bill asked you to go. He must have forgotten. (he notices the rope) getting tied in knots?
Jill
(becoming self conscious)
This? No. Must be for securing luggage to the roof of your car. Someone left it in here.
Jill puts the rope back as…
EXTERNAL FX- SUDDEN FEMALE HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER
Suspicious, Jill moves across to the window to look, hand drawing curtains back.
POV- OUT OF WINDOW INTO VILLAGE SQUARE
Three young men gang tickle a young woman under the ribs and armpits. She writhes around, trying to get free. One of them starts to pull her towards the cross in the centre and she shrieks.
Girl
No!!! Not there! Don’t be mean!!!
The girl pulls away and hides behind a car.
Girl
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!! Don’t punish me!!!
CLOSE UP- JILL
She smiles a little. Dean drifts over.
Dean
What are you smiling at?
Jill
Girl out there being tickled.
Dean
I’m surprised to see you smile. Thought you hated it?
Jill
I do, but…maybe it’s the macabre in us all. Humans are fascinated by watching others suffer. If the suffering makes the subject laugh, I suppose we can’t help laughing along with them. Does that make us barbaric?
Dean
I think it makes us human. (he glances out of the window, standing alongside her) they seem to have stopped…
POV- LOOKING OUT OF WINDOW INTO SQUARE
The three lads and the girl have made up and walk off, one of the boys has his arm round her shoulders. She smiles at him. An elderly police constable walks past in the background, nodding and touching his helmet to the locals out and about.
BACK TO CLOSE UP
Jill
That would be why. (pause) thinking of which, I need to talk to him about Toni. (she looks up at the clear, blue sky) what’s the weather going to do today, do you reckon?
Dean
(imitating yokel accent)
Pour down, I reckon.
He grins, and she ignores the sarcasm, turning away.
EXT- TICKLED TROUT PUB
Jill emerges minus the cardigan. She’s changed out of her boots into a pair of heel-socks in trainers. She moves through the square, walking past the Celtic stone cross and the wooden stocks beneath.
CLOSE UP- STOCKS
Padlock holes allow it to be locked, and the padlocks with keys sit in a plastic bag on the side. A leather bench lies behind the stocks for any unfortunate resident to sit on.
CLOSE UP- JILL
She crouches down, fascinated, and reaches out a hand to touch the wood…
Constable Garner
Don’t break it now, will you, miss?
Jill jumps up, startled. She never heard him approach. Garner is an elderly policeman approaching retirement. Amiable, corpulent, and smiling in a knowing way.
Jill
I wasn’t going to break it…
Constable Garner
Glad to hear it. Been in the village a long time. Though in reality, the stocks have broken more people than I would ever know.
Jill
Is that so?
Constable Garner
Time was, every town and village had a stocks in the centre. Some had pillories too. Villages have been fined for not having a working stocks. Seen as a vital deterrent to the criminal mind…
Jill
It’s not that bad, is it?
Garner fixes her with his best knowing look.
Constable Garner
You reckon?
He puts his hands on her shoulders and guides her around to sit on the leather bench at the back.
Jill
What are you doing, Constable?
Constable Garner
Trust me, miss. I’m a policeman.
Garner opens the stocks and indicates for her to put her feet in. Hesitantly, she does so. Garner replaces the top and locks it in place.
A few locals start to stare. The three young lads and the girl are back, eyeing Jill in a predatory way. Jill starts to get uncomfortable.
Constable Garner
Now, for the best effect, we need to have these off…
He crouches and unlaces her trainers, pulling them off her feet.
Jill
I really don’t think…
Jill eyes the young lads and the girl who have changed direction to come closer.
Constable Garner
Just hush now, miss. Word says you’re a reporter, and there’s no better story than one from personal experience.
Jill
Who told you I was a reporter?
Constable Garner
News travels fast in a village, miss. I’m afraid your socks have to come off too.
He grasps the hem of each sock and pops them off her feet. The crowd increases, subtly. Around fifteen people are now idling in the village square, waiting to see what happens. Jill squirms a little with the attention.
Constable Garner
The prisoner was usually put into the stocks in bare feet. In Medieval times, to go barefoot was the sign of a pilgrim or a poor person. Shoes and boots were expensive, so it was considered a humiliation to lose them. Public exposure was a sentence to many. In those days, people didn’t travel much. You were born, grew up, and died in the same community. Humiliation worked as a punishment because everyone knew you’d been bad, and they could remind you about it for years afterwards.
Jill
I thought they threw things at you- rotten vegetables, fruit, mud…
Constable Garner
…that was one thing that certainly went on, but the stocks were used for a much more sinister purpose than that….
Jill looks around, nervously.
HER POV- AROUND THE SQUARE
Dean stands before the pub, taking photos of her. The loitering crowd now numbers twenty, pretending to be busy whilst watching.
CLOSE UP- JILL
She’s nervous, watching the Constable and the people around the square. Garner leans in close.
Constable Garner
Of course, you realise, miss, what the real punishment of the stocks was?
Jill
….go on?
Constable Garner
…Legitimate murder
Jill
Murder?
Constable Garner
History tells of three highwaymen who preyed on the coach road between London and Exeter. By false witness, they sent five good men to the gallows for the very crimes they themselves committed. When they were found to have committed perjury, the law forbade them to go to the gallows for their crime- men had already been punished for that. So, the magistrate confined them to the stocks. (pause) they’d have been better off with the gallows.
The crowd grows slightly larger, gathering closer. Jill looks around and begins to feel the full effect of just how helpless she really is. Garner continues.
Constable Garner
When you are sat in there, miss, you aren’t able to protect yourself. The crowd gathered, like crows at the feast, and when the bailiff and his two men were persuaded to go for a pint in the local pub….the crowd closed around the men.
Jill
...What did they do?
Constable Garner
Beat them, miss. Reigned blows down upon them without mercy. By the time the Bailiff and his men fought their way through the crowds, two of the guilty were dead, and the third died of his wounds within the day.
Jill
(shuddering)
that’s horrible!
Constable Garner
Justice was seen to be done, miss. I daresay there are those who wish the same punishments could return. Imagine what the stocks could do. What they represent. Sat there, I bet you have some idea of just how helpless you really are…
Jill
Let me out….please?
Constable Garner
Anyone could do anything to you in there….
Jill looks for Dean amongst the crowd, growing more frightened by the second.
Jill
Dean! Dean!
Constable Garner
No use shouting, miss- there’s not a soul going to help you in there.
Jill
What do you mean? Let me out, please!
Constable Garner
You’re at the mercy of the crowd….
One of the three young men from earlier comes up and sits beside her, extending his fingers to her feet. Jill looks, horrified, trying to avoid the smile that threatens to break on her face.
Jill
Not that- please, not that!
Constable Garner
I think you have some idea of what it feels like, miss…
The young lad grins, and tickles her feet with his fingers. Jill’s head rocks backwards and her feet start flapping around, desperate to avoid his fingers.
Jill
Stop it! STOP IT-AAAAAARRRRGGHHHH!!!!!
Constable Garner
Brian! That’s enough!
Constable Garner slaps the young lad’s hand away and the crowd begins to disperse, grinning at her. The Constable leans forward and unlocks the stocks, lifting them open.
Constable Garner
Forgive the lad, miss. Just a local taking advantage. He didn’t mean no harm by it.
Jill
(breathing heavily)
I see….of course….
Constable Garner
You take care now, miss. Enjoy your stay.
Constable Garner turns to walk off. Jill looks around for her shoes and socks.
Jill
Constable?
Constable Garner turns.
Constable Garner
Yes, miss?
Jill
I’m looking for a girl who was here the other day. Toni Lane? Dark hair?
Constable Garner
…oh, yes. I remember. Nice girl. I believe she was friendly with Mr Layfield.
Jill
Layfield?
Garner indicates a photography shop down one of the roads.
Constable Garner
He’s a photographer, miss. Weddings, funerals, births, christenings, and dreams of his own portfolio. I’d try there first. Will that be all, miss?
Jill
Just one more thing! This village has an unusually low crime rate.
Constable Garner
(looking puzzled)
I’d disagree with that statement, miss. I’d disagree with it completely.
Jill
You would? Would you care to make a comment?
Constable Garner
…I wouldn’t have said we had a crime rate at all.
Constable Garner touches his helmet, turns, and assumes the methodical walk of the beat policeman. Jill shakes her head, looks around and sees people still staring at her. She shudders, and pulls her socks on.
INT- LAYFIELD’S SHOP
Jill enters and a bell above the door tinkles. This is a typical camera shop with an array of digital, instamatic, and traditional SLR cameras on sale. Behind the counter, a set of stairs lead upwards above the shop.
Layfield
(from up the stairs)
who is it?
Jill
Mr Layfield? My name is Jill Chambers. I’m a reporter?
Layfield
If it’s film you want, I can be down in a second…
Jill
I actually wanted to ask you a few questions? About Toni Lane? I’m a friend of hers.
There is silence from up the stairs and Jill moves forward to examine the wares in the shop.
Layfield
Why don’t you turn the sign on the door to read ‘closed’ and come on up? We can talk more privately.
Jill
Sure!
Jill turns and locks the front door…
EXT- SHOP.
POV- LOOKING TOWARDS THE SHOP DOOR
We see the edge of someone watching Jill as she changes the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’, then disappears from view.
INT- STUDIO ABOVE SHOP
Jill ascends the stairs to an open plan studio lounge with pale blue mats on the floor, professional backing, and a light umbrella. An expensive digital camera sits on a tripod facing the set up, and a young man is working nearby. Ryan Layfield is energetic and highly strung. Two opposing walls are taken up by portfolio shots- one of families in a variety of poses, the other of young women in relaxed positions.
Jill
Mr Layfield?
Layfield
Call me Ryan. M-Miss Chambers, is it?
Jill
Please, call me Jill, if we’re going to be on first name terms. Is this your work?
CLOSE UP- THE PHOTOGRAPHS
Jill moves up to the nearest wall and examines them. All the young women in the photographs are dressed casually- jeans, cargo pants, long dresses, t shirts, vests, and casual tops. All are barefoot.
Layfield
That represents some of it. A few of our young ladies have gone on to m-modelling contracts, or tried to become actresses. I’ve helped with the portfolio’s.
Jill
(recognising one girl)
That’s Toni! What’s she doing here?
Layfield
She was kind enough to pose for me whilst I answered her questions.
Jill
Pose for you? Why?
Layfield
You’re a journalist, right? You ask questions? Look for stories? How do you know if you are any good, if you don’t practice? That’s what I do. Practice. I gave M-Miss Lane her photographs for free when I’d finished…
Jill
And you spoke to her up here?
Layfield
She was on the m-mat, about….here
Layfield goes and points to the mat. Jill wanders over to the edge of the mat and steps onto it. Layfield looks down.
Layfield
Sorry…could you take your shoes off, please?
Jill
What? Of course.
Jill sits down in the centre of the mat and unlaces her trainers, throwing them to one side. Layfield goes to his camera and turns it on, starting to focus.
Layfield
She was very nice, m-miss Lane. Did she work with you?
Jill
She was a reporter at my paper. We run an independent news service, selling articles to the big papers and getting stories behind the backs of the main high street tabloid journalists.
Layfield looks up from his camera, biting his lip in worry.
Jill
Is something wrong?
Layfield
I’m sorry to ask this, but…could you take your socks off please? I have a no shoes policy on the mat.
Jill
I’ve only just put them back on!
Layfield
(indicating the portfolio wall)
sorry…it’s for health and safety.
Jill sighs, then strips her socks off and throws them to join her shoes. She sits back, extending her legs.
Jill
Better?
Layfield
M-Much. Can you roll onto your front please? You were saying something about m-miss Lane?
Jill rolls onto her front, facing the camera at an angle. Layfield begins to take photographs.
Jill
She was supposed to phone in three days ago. We’ve not heard from her and some of us are worried.
Layfield
I would be too, if a friend of m-mine had gone m-missing. Can you bend your legs up behind you please?
Jill bends her legs up behind her.
Jill
When did you last talk to her?
Layfield
(looking up in thought)
Two nights ago. She was fine. Hold it there… (he takes more photographs), can you spread your legs apart and angle your feet in together? One on top of the other?
Jill does as she is asked as he continues shooting her.
Layfield
She said she was going to disappear for a while. I don’t think there’s anything sinister going on.
Jill
It’s not like her to be out of touch for so long!
Layfield
I think she m-might have m-met someone.
Jill
A man? It’s possible, I suppose!
Layfield
sit up and put your feet in front of you? Hands clasped around your knees?
Jill moves into position as he continues taking photographs.
Layfield
I didn’t see her come in with anyone, but she attracted her fair share of attention, miss. Could you extend one leg in front and hold onto the other with your hands?
Jill
(complying)
She was investigating the same story that I’m on. Why Grinton has an exceptionally low crime rate. Do you have any idea who she spoke to?
Layfield
She…she spoke to Lady Marchant. She owns the manor house just outside of the village. The constable, Garner…
Jill
I’ve just met him!
Layfield
…and a couple of young lads she saw getting into trouble one night. There were probably others, but I don’t recall. Oh, she drove up to the asylum on one of the days. Could you kneel up please? Sit side onto me and let your hair down?
Jill
(complying)
The Asylum? I didn’t know the village had a local asylum?
Layfield
Left over from the Victorian era, I’m afraid. She gained permission from the Haycock sisters. That’s them over there.
Jill stands and pads over to the portfolio display.
CLOSE UP- a colour photograph of two blond twin girls, early twenties, wearing white vests and blue jeans. One smiles demurely, the other cheekily.
PAN BACK- To Jill, who stands with one foot flat and the other on toes, knee bent and sole displayed. Layfield takes another series of photographs.
Jill
Who are they?
Layfield
Millionaire daughters of Grantham Haycock, a self made businessman who died tragically with his wife in a car crash when the girls were seventeen. They inherited the entire estate and stayed in Grinton to repay the kindness they had been shown during the years following Mr and Mrs Haycock’s death.
Jill
What do they have to do with the Asylum?
Layfield
They bought it cheap, and rent it as a film location every now and then. I hear it’s got great architecture.
Jill
I’m surprised girls that age aren’t social animals, with all their money. You hear stories about the rich bitches of America…
Layfield
They’re….active in their own right, miss. I never get invited to their parties. All girl affairs.
Jill
Maybe I’ll pay them a visit at some stage. At this point, any information I can get on Toni’s disappearance is worthwhile….
EXT- VILLAGE SQUARE
The outline of someone is watching the front of the photography shop. We see Jill open the door, escorted by Layfield. She exits, and proceeds up the street.
CLOSE UP- JILL
She has the feeling someone is watching her and stops, turning to look where we saw the edge of the observer.
POV- JILL’S VISION
The street is empty- there is no-one there, looking at her.
BACK TO JILL
She shakes her head, dismissing the event, and continues.
EXT- GRINTON MANOR
A three hundred year old stone building with two opposing wings, vines up the front wall, and a gravel drive that extends all around the house. Jill wanders up the drive, trainers crunching on the gravel. She reaches the door and it opens before she can knock.
She steps back, startled.
POV- INSIDE THE DOOR
We are looking at Jill on the threshold. A butler stands before her.
EXT- POV- THE DOORFRAME
The butler looks kindly at her- he’s a middle aged man in a three piece suit of his profession.
Jill
I’m sorry to bother you, my name is Jill Chambers. I was hoping to speak to Miss Marchant?
Gravestock
Do you have an appointment?
Jill
I’m afraid not. I’m a reporter, doing an article on the local crime rate?
Gravestock
I wasn’t aware we had one, miss?
Jill
That’s…kind of why I’m here. A colleague of mine, Miss Toni Lane, was investigating the same story. I believe Miss Marchant also spoke to her? My colleague hasn’t reported back and I just wondered if the lady of the manor would remember any details she might have given, Mr…?
Gravestock
Gravestock, Butler to Miss Amelia Marchant. Please come in whilst I see if Miss Marchant is free.
INT- MAIN HALL
Gravestock allows Jill to enter, closing the door behind her. He gives her a slight bow, a gentle smile, and proceeds at a leisurely but measured walk through into the dining room.
Jill looks around the room. Twin stairs with black iron railings ascend to the upper floor. The walls are wood panelled, the ceiling high and decorated, the floor covered with white and grey tiles. Two portraits of national hunt gatherings adorn the walls- the men in red jackets, the ladies in black.
Amelia Marchant enters silently in slippers. She’s wearing jeans and a painting smock. Her hair is tied back, and she gives the air of a kindly grandmother of sixty something.
Miss Marchant
Miss Chambers? I’m Amelia Marchant. Pleased to meet you. I’m a little busy, but if you don’t mind if I carry on working, I’d be happy to answer any questions?
They shake hands, warmly, and Amelia Marchant gestures for Jill to follow her through into the next room.
INT- THE DRAWING ROOM
Similar décor to before, though the furniture in here is covered with dust cloths. A number of canvases are covered by cloths on one side. A new canvas is part way through completion. The works on show are mainly modern art pieces- smudged composites of colour, some showing what appear to be brush strokes, some finger marks. In places, canvas is ripped.
Jill stops by one picture- twin vertical red paint smudges three inches wide run up the picture for twelve inches, and near the top of each can be seen five tiny circular imprints, one larger than the others.
Jill
What made this?
Marchant
Never ask an artist how she creates her canvas, my dear. No more than you should ask a writer where he gets his ideas from, the composer his notes, the poet his muse. Art is art, expressed in a variety of forms. May I offer you tea?
Jill
Please.
Marchant rings a hand bell and Gravestock appears, smiling with a bow.
Marchant
Morning tea please, Gravestock. (Gravestock leaves) do you hunt, Miss Chambers?
Jill
I’ve never had the privilege. Hunts are the remit of the rich and the landed gentry, aren’t they?
Marchant
In times gone by I would agree with you, but these days, anyone who can afford the uniform could theoretically take part.
Jill
I’ve always found it a bit barbaric.
Marchant
So have many. Public pressure stopped us from hunting real foxes a couple of years ago. We’re mostly symbolic these days. We gather, run the hounds and horses out into the forest, have a jolly good picnic and come home again for the evening banquet
Jill
You don’t hunt anything?
Marchant
Sometimes we use… alternative prey, but never with violence.
Jill
I’ve never been near a hunt. Horses scare me a little, as do dogs.
Marchant
You know what they say about fears? Confrontation is the best therapy. Come- I’ll show you.
Marchant stands up, and takes off her smock to show a checked pattern shirt underneath. Jill feels obliged to stand also.
CUT TO: EXT- COURTYARD
Marchant leads Jill out towards the stables and the kennels. The barking of dogs can be heard nearby.
Marchant
I keep the dogs organised like a cavalry troop. We have four handlers, each with their own unit. Montgomery, Uxbridge, Gordon, and Wellington team. We have ten dogs in each. The horses are divided into the same units. We’re a mixed bunch- about equal on the men and women. Every one a good rider. We have a good supply of beaters, too- they go ahead and flush out the prey.
Jill
I thought you didn’t hunt animals?
Marchant
Oh, we don’t. Here are the horses.
INT- STABLES
A long stable with bays for twenty horses, all occupied.
Jill
If you don’t mind me asking, ma’am, what exactly do you hunt?
Marchant doesn’t answer.
POV- SOMEONE IN THE RAFTERS, LOOKING DOWN.
CLOSE UP- HAY BAIL SWINGING ON A ROPE.
Jill and Marchant jump back as the hay bail hits them. A figure dressed in rough clothing jumps down and snatches a necklace from Lady Marchant’s neck. He turns to sprint down the stables towards an open door at the far end.
Jill scrambles up to check on Lady Marchant.
Jill
Are you okay?
Marchant
I’m fine! He’s got my necklace!
Jill
You call the police! I’ll try to get a good look at him!
Marchant
You’ll never catch him!
Jill
I just have to get close enough to see him!
Jill takes off, sprinting after the thief.
EXT- STABLE
The thief clears a low wall. In the daylight, we see he has a scarf tied high around his face and a woolly hat low over his head so only his eyes can be seen as a slit. He’s a good runner. Jill tears out of the stables after him, a little slower clearing the low wall, but still fast.
EXT- PADDOCKS OF THE ESTATE-
The thief is fast and he runs secure in his arrogance. He turns, fires a quick look behind, and slows slightly.
CUT TO JILL
She’s in shape, finding her stride, and skirts left past a difficult wall to run down a short path before cutting back across an open paddock.
BACK TO- STABLE DOOR
Lady Marchant comes to the edge of the door, watching the chase with interest.
BACK TO THE THIEF
He turns right and runs across a low paddock with a variety of obstacles, avoiding or clearing each in turn. Jill is twenty yards behind and matching pace.
BACK TO STABLE DOOR
Lady Marchant nods approvingly. Any concern for her necklace has gone. Instead, she watches Jill as if she would appraise a horse.
Marchant
…she can run, that one
BACK TO CHASE
Jill follows the thief out of the far end of the paddock and into…
EXT- THE FOREST
Where she loses sight of him and stops, trying to hold her breath and listen for the sounds of crashing through the undergrowth.
POV- FOREST AROUND HER
FX- OFF- SOUNDS OF MOVEMENT
POV- BACK TO JILL
She takes off in the direction of the sound, and we follow her through the forest until…
EXT- CLEARING
She comes across a clearing with a camper van hitched up to a gas stove. The remains of a fire have burned a blackened patch on the ground, and there is no sign, or sound, of her prey.
Jill walks around the site, looking about her and listening. All we can hear are the sounds of summer- wind in the leaves, birds singing, etc.
She approaches the camper van, looks around for a weapon, and picks up a sturdy wooden stick. Approaching the door, she holds out her hand…
And slowly tries the handle…
INT- CAMPER VAN
POV- DOWN LENGTH OF VAN
The door opens and Jill looks in, head darting to each side. The van has signs of recent habitation of someone living there. A sleeping bag lies rolled up on the couch area, news papers lie around the interior, and dishes sit stacked in the drainer. The curtains are drawn against the outside, faded pale orange behind dirty white nets.
Jill goes to step in but looks down at her trainers, then eases them off on the step outside to not leave foot prints on the carpet to give away signs of her entry. She pads through the camper van, not touching anything but we follow her gaze.
CLOSE UP- FRIDGE
Photographs- the Haycock sisters taken from a distance, unloading a car. Amelia Marchant, sitting in black traditional hunt costume astride a horse. A hunt gathering outside Lady Marchant’s manor house, and a large, Victorian building (the Asylum), artistically shot with monochromatic film in a cold winter’s light.
PAN BACK
Jill moves into the living room area and looks at the newspapers. Several have sections cut out of them. She looks around and sees…
CLOSE UP- DISPLAY BOARD
A montage of newspaper cuttings. All the stories are unrelated- missing dogs, sports events, visiting celebrities and weather conditions- but all have one thing in common- the reporter’s name on each piece is Toni Lane.
CLOSE UP- JILL’S FACE
She bites her lip, feeling nervous as a shiver goes down her spine.
POV- TOWARDS JILL, DRAWN CURTAIN WINDOW FRAMED BEHIND.
…A shadow moves past the window
Jill turns, seeing it, her heart racing. She moves slowly towards the door, careful not to make a sound, step by step…
CLOSE UP-DOOR
Jill opens the door to see…
EXT- LOOKING TOWARDS CAMPER VAN
Nothing. We see her look out, gazing around, but see no-one.
BACK TO JILL
She looks down to put her trainers back on, but they’re missing.
Jill
(annoyed)
Oh….Bollocks!
CUT TO-
EXT- SHORT WHILE LATER
Jill walks back up to the house in a pair of very dirty socks.
EXT- APPROACHING THE DRAWING ROOM PATIO
Miss Amelia Marchant appears, opening the door for her as she approaches. Jill stands apologetically.
Jill
I’m really, really sorry, Miss Marchant- he got away!
Miss Marchant
Never mind, my dear. The important thing is that you are alright. Please do come in and rest a while…(she looks down at Jill’s feet) but those socks will have to go!
INT- DRAWING ROOM- SHORT WHILE LATER
Jill sits on a couch, now in bare feet, with Miss Marchant in an armchair nearby. Gravestock serves tea then retires.
Miss Marchant
That was a terribly brave thing you did! You could have been hurt!
Jill
It was nothing. I couldn’t very well stand by and do nothing! What sort of person would that have made me?
Miss Marchant
Just the same as anyone else, I’m afraid. Gallantry is something of an outmoded concept in many parts of the world.
Jill
Blame my dad. It’s hard to grow up with anything but a sense of honour in my family. Everyone had something. An older brother in the police, a mother in social work, and a father as a human rights lawyer.
Miss Marchant
Those professions don’t always come with the tag of honesty, my dear!
Jill
They did in my case! They were disappointed when I chose journalism, but respected my opinions. Lady Marchant, I need to phone the police about that camper van. I think it may have something to do with Toni’s disappearance.
Miss Marchant
You’ve found something?
Jill
Press cuttings about Toni. If the thief was living there, he had photographs of you on his fridge.
Miss Marchant
A stalker? How terribly modern! Such a thing never existed in my time! What is the world coming to?
Jill
There were pictures of the Haycock sisters, too.
Miss Marchant
You had better telephone Constable Graves, my dear. We can retrace your steps and meet him there.
Miss Marchant rings a small hand bell and Gravestock appears.
Gravestock
Milady?
Miss Marchant
Gravestock, find Yates for me, would you? Tell him to bring the shotguns.
Jill
(suddenly nervous)
Miss Marchant, what…are you thinking of doing?
Miss Marchant
Constable Graves is a wonderfully sweet man approaching retirement, my dear- do you think he would have a chance against a young, fit burglar? Oh, don’t worry! I know we do things differently out here in the country but I’m not about to turn into a vigilante and start shooting people! But…a shotgun does give one a sense of protection, if we were to run into an unsavoury sort of character! I could supply you with a twelve bore, if you wish? A twenty?
Jill
No, thank you! I’ve never fired guns, and wouldn’t feel safe with one…
Miss Marchant
No matter. Yates is my groundsman and a superb hunter. We shall both go armed for your protection- though I daresay I shall have to lend you a pair of wellies! Can’t have you going about barefoot, can we?
EXT- WOODS- SHORT WHILE LATER- LATE AFTERNOON
A Range Rover pulls up next to a walking path. Miss Marchant, Jill, and a well built man in his early forties called Yates disembark. Jill is in borrowed green Wellington boots, Marchant and Yates carry shotguns broken over their arms.
Miss Marchant
Do lead on, my dear!
Jill
…it’s up this way
EXT- APPROACHING CLEARING
Jill crunches through the undergrowth with Marchant and Yates making little sound behind her. She self consciously tries to make less noise but the boots give her away. After several attempts, Miss Marchant calls a halt and prevents her going any further.
Miss Marchant
Maybe you should have stayed in bare feet after all, my dear!
Jill
I’m sorry, I’m not used to these…
Miss Marchant
No matter. Yates and I shall proceed- you wait here.
Marchant indicates for Yates to go wide and he sneaks off into the undergrowth. Marchant connects her shotgun and proceeds stealthily forwards, disappearing into the foliage.
Jill looks around, feeling useless at making so much noise and being left behind. She paces, listening for a sound, then unable to contain her curiosity, starts forward…
…and crunches in her boots on the ground.
She stands, weighing up the boots against her need to find out what lies ahead, and succumbs to her journalistic instinct. She steps out of the boots and moves ahead in bare feet through the forest, wincing every time she steps on something hard.
EXT- CLEARING WITH CAMPER VAN
Yates approaches the van from one side, Miss Marchant from the other. Marchant raises her shotgun so as not to accidentally discharge at her groundsman. Yates reaches the door as…
Miss Marchant spins around, raising her shotgun…
CLOSE UP- JILL
Right into Jill’s face, who stops, scared.
PAN BACK
Marchant lowers the shotgun and gives Jill a pitying look, then notices her bare feet.
Miss Marchant
You should have stayed back in safety, my dear!
Jill
I couldn’t leave you to take him on by yourselves!
Miss Marchant
…and who has the shotguns, exactly?
Jill
True…ow!
Miss Marchant
What’s the matter?
Jill
Apart from earlier when that bastard nicked my trainers, I’ve not gone barefoot on hard ground before! I keep….standing… on something hard!
Miss Marchant
If you have particularly soft soles, you should have kept your boots on like you were told! But never mind- you’re here now. Keep out of my line of fire and stay quiet!
Marchant nods to Yates, who pulls the door open with one hand and enters, his shotgun leading the way.
CUT TO- JILL AND MARCHANT
…Jill looking nervous, Marchant holding her gun ready to fire.
BACK TO CAMPER VAN
Yates emerges, and shakes his head at his Lady.
INT- CAMPER VAN
As before, but it’s been cleaned out. Nothing remains of the former signs of life. Yates clomps out, looking for signs of leaving as Miss Marchant and Jill enter.
Jill feels paper under her foot and looks down. A photograph from the fridge fell onto the floor and she picks it up, turning it over to see…
CLOSE UP THE HAYCOCK SISTERS
Miss Marchant
One of the photographs?
Jill
I’m concerned, Lady Marchant. If this stalker has been watching you…
Miss Marchant
He could be watching them, poor dears. They’re away at the moment, but I think they’re back tomorrow morning. I’d better go up and see them after breakfast.
Jill
I could do that for you! They might have spoken to Toni and it gives me a chance to see if they know anything.
Miss Marchant
You said your friend’s name was on newspaper cuttings in this camper van? I’m going to inform Constable Graves. If we have a stalker on the loose, we could do with finding him before someone gets hurt.
Jill
Can I do anything?
Miss Marchant
Try not to worry too much, and have the night off. I have a young friend over for a private exhibition so I’m afraid we part company once we get back to the Manor. Feel free to keep hold of the boots for now, my dear- can’t have you driving back to the village in dirty socks, can we?
CUT TO- EXT- VILLAGE SQUARE- EARLY EVENING
Jill drives into her car park space, and gets out. She’s wearing the muddy Wellington boots she borrowed.
INT- TICKLED TROUT PUB
Jill walks in, trying to clean her boots in the entry. Sue the landlady sees her and comes over.
Sue
Had fun hiking today, my love?
Jill
It’s a long story!
Sue
Oh, I’m sure it can wait until you get sorted out- just pop your boots on the side before you come in. Can’t have you treading mud into the pub now, can we?
Jill
I’ve no socks on!
Sue
Neither have I! Talking of which, could you do me a favour, do you think?
Jill steps out of her boots and follows Sue into the bar area. The fire is blazing and a smattering of patrons, mainly families, are in and enjoying an evening meal.
Jill
If I can, sure.
Sue
One of my girls can’t come tonight- she’s a bit of an art hound and Lady Marchant has invited her to the manor for a private viewing. We could be a bit delayed serving tonight, so to speak.
Jill
So you’re short staffed? That’s okay, I can drive out to eat somewhere else if you’re having trouble tonight.
Sue
Drive out? Nonsense! I wanted you to wait on for me! I’d waive tonight’s room cost, if that sounds fair?
Jill
Wait on? I did a bit at college, but…I’m not exactly dressed and I suppose you have a uniform?
Sue
You’re fine just as you are, dear! But if you want to get changed into a uniform, come into the back…
Jill, a bit stunned, follows Sue behind the bar…
INT- BACK ROOM
Sue looks Jill up and down, then pulls out a pair of black jeans and a white blouse.
Sue
There! They look about your size!
Jill
I take a size six for shoes…
Sue
Oh, nonsense! You won’t be needing any of them tonight! Get changed and come out as soon as you’re ready!
INT- PUB- MINUTES LATER
Jill emerges barefoot from behind the bar in the jeans and blouse a few minutes later. Sue gives her a notebook and a pen, and a copy of the menu.
Sue
Now, take a minute to get acquainted with the menu. The specials are on the board over there…
Jill looks at the specials board and notices a small, black canvass next to it. No more than 12” by 24”, the style is unmistakably from Lady Marchant. Pale blue paint forms two smudged discs, each with five smudged smaller circles on top.
Jill
You got that from the Manor?
Sue
That? Oh yes. One of my other girls modelled for her ladyship. That’s what Angela’s doing tonight. The girl you’re replacing.
CUT TO- EXT- MARCHANT’S MANOR
A car drives up and parks on the gravel. An attractive young brunette, Angela, gets nervously out. Around twenty other cars are parked in the drive.
BACK TO PUB
Jill starts to work, taking orders from families, padding round the pub and trying to play the efficient waitress. The families are patient and kind, not harassing her with too many requests.
BACK TO MANOR
INT- MAIN HALL
Gravestock opens the door and Angela is admitted. The sounds of a party comes from the main hall. Gravestock takes her coat and shows her the stairs. Angela nervously climbs the stairs, dreading what is to come.
BACK TO PUB
Two young men sat on a padded bench in a window booth call Jill over.
Youth 1
Sorry, miss- it’s a bit warm in here- could you open the top window, please?
Jill
You could climb up and do it yourselves! What did your last slave die of?
Youth 2
We’ve got shoes on and don’t want to stand on the bench- Ged would kill us!
Youth 1
Not to mention, Sue!
Jill
You boys! Honestly! You could reach this by kneeling up!
Jill kneels on the bench and the two youths share a grin at her exposed soles. After she opens the window, one grabs her legs and the other starts to tickle…
Jill
HEY! STOP THAT!!!
Jill fights her way off the bench with a self conscious smile. The two youths grin back.
BACK TO MANOR- MAIN STAIRCASE
Angela appears at the top of the stairs dressed in hunt uniform- black tight leather boots, white pants, and a black blouse. Her hair is tied up in riding style.
At the foot of the staircase, Gravestock waits as she descends, slowly, nervously.
She turns to enter…
THE MAIN HALL
Where over forty people stand around in full hunt uniform, holding drinks. Only Amelia Marchant is not, preferring to wear her painting smock and slippers. Angela approaches the centre of the room, the crowd parting and forming around her, all conversation falling silent.
Miss Marchant
Angela, you know why you are here?
Angela
Yes, Milady…
Miss Marchant
After that appalling way you rode Thunderchild on the last hunt, this makes your third strike for riding offences, does it not?
Angela
…yes, Milady
Miss Marchant
And you come willingly to accept your punishment from the hunt?
Angela
(voice now quivering in fear)
…yes, Milady
Miss Marchant
…good. Best take these clothes off, then.
Four women close around her- the Haycock sisters being two. The Haycocks help her sit on a stool produced from the crowd. Another woman unbuttons her jacket, the fourth holds her arms back and the jacket is slipped off whilst the Haycock sisters kneel at her feet and pull her boots off. Angela is compliant, though trembling as her blouse is un-buttoned and the Haycock sisters start to smile.
Trish Haycock
(musically singing the words)
It’s ‘socks off’ time for you….
The Haycocks strip her socks off as Angela’s blouse is slipped off down her arms. She is helped to her feet as hands are placed inside the hem of her tight pants and her bra is unclasped from behind…
BACK TO PUB
Jill is starting to get into the swing of things, forgetting her attire and enjoying serving tables. The families are being replaced by couples, singles, and groups of adults. Many look admiringly at the ‘new waitress’ and Jill even begins to enjoy the admiring glances, allowing herself to flirt a little with the customers.
She goes over to the bar.
Ged
Ought to ‘ave you back regular! Doing a good job, you are!
Jill
Thanks! Didn’t think I’d enjoy it as much, but everyone’s really nice!
Dean walks down from his room and almost walks past her before he recognises Jill.
Dean
What the….
Jill
Evening, Dean
Dean
What are you doing dressed like that?
Jill
Waiting on! What does it look like? Are you eating in or just harassing me?
Dean
I’ll eat, if it’s all the same! How come you’re doing this?
Jill
Replacing a local waitress. She’s got some big function on at the Manor.
Dean
Ah…
BACK TO MANOR
POV- WOODEN BEAM IN RAFTERS ABOVE GREAT HALL
A hemp rope is tied off around the wooden beam, with a length of rope stretching down taut into the room. We follow the camera down the rope….
….to a binding around a pair of slender wrists, down bare arms, to the bare shoulders and terrified face of Angela.
PAN BACK- REAR SHOT
From behind Angela, naked, standing on tip toe before the hunt gathering, still admiring her with drinks in hands. Lady Marchant is busying herself nearby with a black canvass, 12” by 24”. She takes the canvass and crouches down, sliding it under Angela’s feet.
The hunt gathering continue talking amicably about a variety of subjects, seemingly ignoring the naked girl before them as Lady Marchant selects a blend of colours, mixes them on a palate, and clears her throat.
Miss Marchant
Ladies and Gentlemen: Angela has seen fit to accept her punishment before the hunt. Let all her bear witness to her strength, her resolve, and her honesty. Let her sins be absolved.
Hunt gathering
…Let her sins be absolved!
Miss Marchant
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, Angela!
Hunt Gathering
(toasting her)
Angela!
The Haycock sisters come forward, take a leg each, and bend it backwards to present upturned soles. Lady Marchant applies paint to her brush, and begins to gently paint Angela’s toes and the soles of her feet. Angela begins to laugh, stifling the giggling through her mortification and embarrassment before the hunt. When finished, the Haycock sisters place Angela back on tip toe, standing on the black canvass beneath. Angela has barely enough purchase to make contact.
Lady Marchant puts down her palate and steps up behind Angela, extending her fingers to the armpits.
Miss Marchant
…and I also give you, my new masterpiece!
Her fingers flex, gently stroking from Angela’s ribs to her armpits. Angela squeals, bucks, gyrates on the end of her rope, and her feet squirm for purchase, creating a new painting on the canvass beneath.
Politely, demurely, the crowd applauds. Some stare with interest, some with open admiration, some (like the Haycock sisters) with open lust and desire for the naked, screaming, sometimes silently, sometimes explosively laughing girl writhing under the expertly dancing fingers of Lady Amelia Marchbanks.
End of act one
