˼2Final Draft, Inc. Final Draft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ef: 9062 A FLOOZY BLOWS IN By Neil Molloy 7-11-2004 EXT. main rd. Night. Suburban traffic. Buses, mainly cars. Traffic lights, pedestrians. Lights go red, pedestrians cross the road. A Ford stops at the crossing. Int. Ford. night. The DRIVER, regular looking, fiftyish, drives GENEVIEVE, a vivacious woman in her early twenties, provocatively dressed with impossibly blonde hair. She sits in the front, melancholy. Sound over: A scraping of furniture and a crash of china: A domestic screaming match is in progress. MICKEY Rogers, booms out. MICKEY (V.O.) You touch that and youre dead. Dead...got it?! The voice of Genevieve equals his ferocity. GENEVIEVE (V.O.) Dont you go touching my things. Its mine. Get your fucking hands...I said...Mickey! MICKEY (V.O.) Nobody touches those... Another crash. GENEVIEVE (V.O.) Oh, I am sorry...poor Ventures. MICKEY (V.O.) Right, bitch. GENEVIEVE (V.O.) Mickey! No! Thats my grandmothers. Mickey...touch that...thats worth...Mickey, No! MICKEY (V.O.) You want war? You get it. More crashing and smashing. GENEVIEVE (V.O.) Right, Im getting the cops, you bastard. MICKEY (V.O.) Go on, go on. Do em a favour. Save em looking for you. GENEVIEVE (V.O.) Ill fucking risk it. Dont, Mickey, you do...no. mICKEY (V.O.) Youre staying right here. Its settling down. GENEVIEVE (V.O.) No, Mickey. Im going and that goes with me. MICKEY (V.O.) Oh no youre not. Youre not going anywhere. Its off again. GENEVIEVE (V.O.) Try me, Ill kill... MICKEY (V.O.) Ill hunt you down. GENEVIEVE (V.O.) Alright, alright. Leave it. Dont touch it. MICKEY (V.O.) What about my Ventures? GENEVIEVE (V.O.) Ill pay for them. MICKEY (V.O.) You cant get em, you stupid fucking bitch... A scream. MICKEY (V.O.) (CONTD) Youre gone...you owe me. Smash, crash, bang and a scream. The driver and Genevieve look for street numbers. GENEVIEVE Im not so sure I know this one. They pull up at a red light. Driver Me neither. Its 374, thats all I know. The lights change and they both continue to look for numbers. Driver Here we go. He swings the car into the kerb. They both gaze at a bland, single storey motel. GENEVIEVE Same crap, different scenery. She opens her door. Ext. Footpath. opposite motel. Night. Genevieve steps out and walks around to the drivers window. GENEVIEVE Hows Millie? Driver Not good, Gen. I didnt like leaving her on her own. GENEVIEVE You go. Driver Id better not. GENEVIEVE Off you go, Ill be alright, go on. DENNIS What about Mickey? gENEVIEVE Fuck Mickey! Im not likely to dob you in. Go on, piss off. Driver Look, Ill wait for your call... She slings her handbag over her shoulder. Driver (CONTD) Appreciate it, Gen. The vet said shes a good age for a Spaniel. With a sympathetic nod, she skips across the road and strides confidently through the motel entrance. Ext. MoTEL fore-court. Night. Out of sight of the car, she catches her heel in a rut, stumbles and falls. GENEVIEVE Oh, shit...shit. She pulls herself up, rubs the gravel off her hands and knee and gathers herself. She pats her hair and smooths her dress before knocking on a door. 0002000007CA00000C6B7C4,Int. Motel unit. A hand reaches for the door handle, twists and opens to a beaming Genevieve. GENEVIEVE Hi, you must be Richard. RICHARD, in his mid-forties, stocky but well groomed, stands in the doorway with a tie draped over an open collared shirt. He fixes her with an inquisitive stare before sticking his head over her shoulder and scanning left and right. Richard Wheres Desiree? Shes taken aback. GenEVIEVE What do you mean? I dont know. richard For Christ sake, this happened before. I ask specifically for Desiree. GENEVIEVE They told me... RICHARD ...and then they send me someone... (scanning her) ...someone different. Genevieve blanches but soldiers on. She reaches out to him theatrically. GENEVIEVE Arent I good enough? RICHARD I have certain tastes in women. A stunned pause. Shes struggling to mask her disdain. RICHARd (CONTD) I suppose, since youre here, youd better come in. She hesitantly enters and he closes the door behind her. He removes a wad of notes from his trouser pocket. RICHARD Do I get it cheaper? She snaps. GENEVIEVE No! He slides the notes under the bedside lamp. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) I need to use your bathroom...to freshen up a bit. He points in the general direction. INT. motel BATHROOM. Genevieve enters a small bathroom, checks her knee and clothing and looks at herself in the mirror. She reaches into her bag and speed dials a mobile phone. GENEVIEVE (low voice) Ive got a Mr. Nice Guy. (listening) I can handle it...look, Ill catch you tomorrow. She slips the phone back in her bag, adjusts her hair, braces herself and opens the door to Richard, busy fumbling with his trouser belt. Int. Motel Unit. GenEVIEVE (seductively) Leave that to me. She reaches for his belt, but he brushes her hands away. Richard Im not into foreplay. She stops in her tracks. RICHARD (CONTD) Get your gear off. GENEVIEVE Oh, a regular Casanova. Richard Hey! Im not paying for chit-chat. GENEVIEVE What? Now you wanna gag me? Thats extra. 000200000AE70000142FAE1,She flashes him a forced smile. The surly man is unimpressed. Richard I didnt order a bloody comedian either. She breaks into a mock vaudevillian comic routine. RICHARD (CONTD) Just get undressed. Her patience has now run out. GENEVIEVE Guess what? You make me puke. With as much dignity as she can muster, she turns, grabs her handbag and heads for the door. She opens it, swings back but finds herself frustratingly speechless. Ext. Motel fore-court. Night She slams the door behind her, kicks the door and hobbles out of the complex, a combination of anger and tears. EXT. Footpath. Outside motel. Night. With a hobble and a skip, she kicks off her high heels into the gutter, rips off her wig, tosses it over a wall and then with a swish of her hair and a hint of a limp, she strides confidently down the road. INT. lARGE OFFICE BUILDING. DAY. GENEVIEVE, with natural red hair pulled back, sits behind a large receptionists desk in the foyer of a crowded, modern, multi-storey office building. In a standard black uniform and wearing a headset, she is answering telephone calls while frantically pressing buttons on a desktop switchboard. Constant interruptions from foot traffic magnify her frustration. INT. Rhapsodies. day. Mahlers Fifth symphony is playing. A dinosaur of a shop: A handful of customers browse. As well as a record and CD display, the walls contain a small array of painted, polystyrene orchestral instruments, along with a genuine violin case, bow and conductors baton. One customer, MR. BELLOWS, a slightly stooped, middle-aged, average built man, wearing a long, brown, waterproof raincoat and matching, flat, peaked cap, is browsing through the second-hand record section. He removes a sleeved record and scrutinises the cover. He thinks about it, then pops it back. Behind the counter and sorting through CDs is the owner, VICTOR, in his mid-forties, tall, aloof and somewhat effeminate. Looking out the window, Mr Bellows notes the rain, picks up his battered, brown leather, tapered case and instinctively pulls his cap down. He heads to the door. VICTOR See you on Wednesday. Mr. Bellows grumbles a sort of farewell and leaves. EXT. REAR OF OFFICE BUILDING. day. Its cold, wet and blustery. The swirling wind fans spray over Genevieve. She stands sad faced, huddled against a concrete wall with a plastic cup in one hand and drawing heavily on a cigarette in the other. Checking her watch, she throws the cigarette on the ground and screws it out with her high-heeled shoe. Smoothing her skirt and releasing a resentful sigh, she opens a nearby door and steps inside. EXT. HI-FI STORE. day. A large, street frontage window, houses a range of esoteric Hi-Fi equipment. Mr Bellows, hunched against the weather, pores over the display. 00020000099E00001F10998,INT. HI-FI STORE. Exaggerated cannons and bells from the closing moments of the 1812 Overture. A SALESMAN demonstrates audio equipment to a MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN and MIDDLE-AGED MAN. SALESMAN So, what sort of equipment are you running at present? MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN Oh, the one we've got now is a three-in-one. Its got a lovely tone. (to the middle-aged man) Its a Sharp , isn't it, Merv? The salesman gulps, but manages a polite nod of acknowledgement. MR Bellows enters the store and closes the door against the wind. He places his leather case on the counter. The salesman looks up. SALESMAN Well..um..I'll leave you two to have a think about it. The couple are pre-occupied fingering buttons and controls. SALESMAN (CONTD) Would you please excuse me while I attend to this gentleman? The salesman runs his hand down his face, collects himself and greets Mr Bellows with a brave smile. SALESMAN (CONTD) Mr Bellows! And how are we today? Without answering, Mr Bellows produces a stylus box from his bag and slides it across the counter. EXT. city St. LATE AFTERNOON. rain. Genevieve, her eyes darting hither and thither, walks briskly along the wet footpath holding up an umbrella. She zig-zags her way across the road and turns down a narrow laneway. Ext. Lane. late Afternoon. She yanks open a steel door. INT. A MURKY STAIRWELL. She climbs the stairs to the first floor landing where she faces a shabby, wooden door. After fussing about in her bag for keys, she attempts to unlock it, but the door, to her dismay, swings open. She quickly retrieves the keys and cautiously peers into a darkish room. INT. GENEVIEVEs FLAT. She reaches for the light switch on the wall. A dispiritingly seedy room. The light reveals mostly squalor. Behind the door stands JOEY, a thin, haggard but muscular character. The door slams heavily behind her. A combined look of recognition and fear sweeps over her. Sitting in a club armchair in front of an elegant harpsichord is MICKEY, a tall, unhealthily flabby man in his early thirties, wearing a beige suit and sporting a greased back ponytail. He heaves himself out of the sagging chair. MICKEY Genevieve, darling! We were just admiring the decor. He smiles threateningly. With his arms outstretched and his ringed fingers splayed, he saunters over towards her. She shoots a look towards another muscular character, DWAYNE, standing statue fashion at the far end of the room. Resolutely, she holds her ground. 00020000081F000028A8819,GENEVIEVE (in a low voice) Whats with these pathetic drongos? Get out. All of you...out of my apartment. Mickey scans the drab walls. MICKEY Apartment? He guffaws. GENEVIEVE Stalking! Youve been stalking me. Im gonna fucking report this. MICKEY What! The cops? He turns to the sniggering goons and roars with laughter. MICKEY (CONTD) Stalking! We just sniffed around for the worst slum. GENEVIEVE Its paradise after living with you. Theyll listen to me, dont you worry. mICKEY Paradise is it? (turning to his goons) Dragged her up from the gutter, I did. GENEVIEVE The gutter was better. MICKey And what thanks do I get for my kindness? She robs me blind, tries to sabotage my business, smashes my records and from what I hear, then goes and joins the corporate ranks. GENEVIEVE Human ranks. He turns with mock puzzlement, to each of the goons. MICKEY Listen, my little viper, we've had a number of complaints from some of our more discerning clientele, regarding your attitude. GENEVIEVE Just piss off Mickey. You dont own me anymore. This may not be much, but I can fucking breath at last. I dont answer to anyone. MICKEY (CONTD) Well decide that. However, lets attend to this other little matter first. He moves over to the harpsichord. mICKEY (CONTD) About this inheritance of ours...our arrangement? EXT. HI-FI STORE. dusk. Light rain. The salesman pushes the door open for Mr Bellows pulling his cap down against the weather. SALESMAN Dont get drowned, Mr Bellows. Ill give you a call when it rocks up. Mr Bellows, without acknowledgment, looks uncertainly in both directions before trudging off down the street. INT. GENEVIEVEs FLAT. Mickey is stroking her harpsichord. GENEVIEVE Get your hands off, Mickey. You dont touch that. MICKEY Its not that simple, my precious. GENEVIEVE You dont have to touch it. Jesus! Why cant you just accept it? Im out, finished, vamoose! He returns, places an arm around her and leads her to the armchair. She stands cold before brushing him off. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Get off. I've had enough of... 000200000D5E000030C1D58,The goons, sensing action, move in closer. He pushes her into the chair. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Whats with these two losers, anyway? mICKEY My boys help me keep things on the level. You might call them my tranquilisers. GENEVIEVE You gutless bastard. MICKEY (turning to the goons) What was it our valued clients said they missed about her? He looks up searchingly. MICKEY (CONTD) Fucked if I know. But I can tell you from my experience, guys... GENEVIEVE Mickey! Cut it... MICKEY ...Its like dropping a golf ball down a well. He wallows in his revelations. The goons snigger again. She holds up her forefinger and thumb. GENEVIEVE Youd know. She turns to each of the goons. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) He could wriggle in a thimble. The goons erupt. Mickey towers menacingly over her. She leans hard back in the chair, shielding herself. MICKEY You had no complaints. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) (chuckling nervously) Oh yeah! Dont fool yourself. Taunting him, she holds each forefinger twelve inches apart. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Not like my new guy. Hes momentarily stung. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) (pointing at Mickey) I only ever had two orgasms with him. Both times he was rolled over asleep. The goons try desperately to conceal their cackles. Mickey shoots them a glare. Despite her arms protecting her, he whacks her face. She still rallies. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) I faked the rest. MICKEY Nobodys gonna listen to a certified fucking psycho slut. The goons move in closer. He grabs her by her jacket and pulls her out of the chair. She fights back. Fearful of his intentions, Mickey throws her back in the chair and turns his back. He immediately swings back round and points his finger at her. MICKEY Youre dead meat. A clattering on the stairs: Taking advantage, she leaps up, races for the door and runs out. Joey gestures to Dwayne to hold back. Mickey darts out after her. INT. Murky stairwell. dark. Mickey makes a grab for her. A startled man, hauling a shopping trolley up the stairs, squeezes out of her way, but turns back only to block Mickeys passage. Mickey holds back. She stands near the bottom and yells. GENEVIEVE Youve learnt nothing, you dick-head. MICKEY (yelling) Ill find you. Ext. Lane. Dusk. Genevieve bursts out the of the steel door and flies up the lane. Ext. Main st. dusk. Genevieve takes refuge in a nearby shop doorway. She rubs her face as PEOPLE push past. FADE TO BLACK. Ext. Lane. Dusk. The three men stride towards the main street. Ext. Main st. DUSK. The three cross the road and get into a parked, black, HSV Commodore with MIKY 1 number plates. She watches cautiously from the doorway as they roar past. Ext. lane. Dusk. She slips back down the lane and back through the steel door. Fade to black. The sound of hammering. Int. Murky Stairwell. An overnight bag and her uniform on a hanger, sit on the landing. Genevieve hammers a bracket to the door and frame. Ext. LaNE. DUSK. Genevieve, with the bag, hanger and hammer, emerges from the steel door. She scampers across the lane to a blind cut-in where an old, battered Toyota is parked up against an overflowing dump bin. She throws the bag and hammer in the back and gets in. After several attempts, the car starts. Smoke belches out of the exhaust as she reverses out of the alley. EXT. city street. dusk. Mr Bellows, clutching his leather bag and with a hood over his flat hat, crosses the road and turns down a side street. 00020000084A00003E19844,EXT. City STREET. DUSK. The Toyota weaves through the busy traffic. INT. toyota. travelling. Dusk. Genevieve, a blotch emerging on her face and with an unlit cigarette dangling from her mouth, thumps the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. She waits impatiently for the cigarette lighter to pop out. EXT. Narrow LANE. dusk. Mr Bellows, hunched over, manoeuvres between parked cars. He turns into a narrower lane and along the footpath. INT. toyota. TRAVELLING. Genevieve is rattling at the cigarette lighter in an attempt to eject it. She avoids a build-up of traffic and swings into a side lane. EXT. Narrow LANE. dusk. Raining. Mr Bellows continues walking down the laneway. Restricted, he chooses to keep to the roadway. INT. toyota. TRAVELLING. Genevieve steers down the narrow lane. Reaching for the cigarette lighter, it now chooses to partially eject. As she attempts to pull it out, she yips as she burns her fingers, causing the lighter to flip onto her lap. She screams as she witnesses the terrified face of Mr Bellows as her car strikes him. In a panic, she accelerates to the end of the road, turns a corner and pulls up. Dazed and breathing erratically she just stares ahead. GENEVIEVE Christ! She reaches for her handbag and jumps out of the car. EXT. narrow lane. DUSK. WET. Genevieve hurriedly turns into the narrow lane and abruptly slows to a brisk walk. Nearing the injured man and seeing two elderly women, BERYL and THORA, bending over and timidly touching him, she feigns surprise and rushes to assist. Still clutching his bag, he is lying on his back, partially on the kerb, still and expressionless. GENEVIEVE Move away. I'm a qualified nurse. She pushes through and kneels at his side. The two women, looking relieved, step back. BERYL That's a bit of luck, isnt it Thora? THORA Yes, he's very lucky. (to Genevieve) Can we help? Genevieve points down the road. GENEVIEVE Call an ambulance. Theres a phone in the pub. THORA Do we need coins? They both rummage through their handbags. GENEVIEVE (snappish) Just ask at the bar. Tell 'em its urgent. They'll give you a phone. 0002000008ED0000465D8E7,THORA Youd better come too, Beryl. You know about these things. The two elderly women shuffle off to the pub. Genevieve unfastens the buttons of Mr Bellows raincoat and loosens his collar. A wallet hangs partially out of the inside pocket of his coat and she deftly removes it, slipping it down the front of her blouse. She waits uneasily and then begins to lift his legs onto the kerb, but as she does he releases a soft groan. GENEVIEVE Where are you hurt? A car draws up. A fit YOUNG MAN dressed in a tracksuit hops out and hurries over. Taken aback, she drops his legs, causing him to groan again. This time however, he opens his eyes and looks straight at her. She appears unsettled. She turns to the young man. GENEVIEVE Someone ran him over and just pissed off. Ive called an ambulance. The young man tentatively bends over him. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Ive gotta go. Sheepishly she slides off back down the street. The bewildered man looks towards her. She turns and yells back. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Stay with him, keep him warm. Im operating. Int. Toyota. Dusk. Starting the car, Genevieve hurries off. EXT. PARK LANDS. night. Genevieve is parked at the side of the road, illuminating something with an unreliable torch which she periodically bangs on the steering wheel. INT. toyota. NIGHT. Genevieve flips through the contents of the wallet and removes a quantity of banknotes. She quickly thumbs through his personal papers, breaking for a moment to shine the torch on an appointment card from the Glenhaven Psychiatric Hospital. Thunderstruck, she looks ahead contemplatively. She carefully tucks the papers back inside the wallet and places it on the seat beside her. She starts the car and slips it into gear. GENEVIEVE (low whisper) Jesus! EXT. SCENE OF ACCIDENT. DARK. WET. Red, blue and white lights reflect violently off the rain soaked alley walls. A police car and an ambulance are parked at random across the road. Two UNIFORMED MEN lift a stretcher into the ambulance. A POLICEMAN is interviewing the two old ladies. BERYL She said she was a qualified nurse, didn't she Thora? THORA Oh, yes. You could tell she was qualified. BERYL She had those caring eyes. THORA It was us that rung the ambulance you know? The young lass on the phone was very nice. 000200000C6100004F44C5B,EXT. WORKERS COTTAGE. night. The Toyota pulls up outside a row of semi-detached cottages and splutters to a halt. A light shines from one of the cottages. She gets out. Opening a gate and walking up a short path, Genevieve rings the doorbell. Pacing impatiently up and down the veranda, she attempts to look through a front window just as the outside light comes on and the front door opens. TINA, an impish, slightly built young woman, peers around. TINA Oh, hi, Gen. Where have you been? GENEVIEVE Tina! TINA You alright? GENEVIEVE Yeah, yeah. Listen. Can I come in for a sec? Tina attempts to touch a red blotch on the side of Genevieve's face. TINA Jesus! What happened to your face? Mickey!? GENEVIEVE I guess I asked for it. TINA Bastard! GENEVIEVE Listen, Tina, I need somewhere to stay for awhile. Im scared to go back to my place. TINA Oh Gen! You make it so hard. Have you got any money? Genevieves face starts to fall. GENEVIEVE No...well, sort of but...Look, I dont get paid for another week. TINA Look, I wanna help but...well... you know... The door opens wider and FABIAN, a heavily muscled Block Head, in a white tank top and jeans, stands, arms folded, looming threateningly over Tinas head. TINA (CONTD) You know Fabian? GENEVIEVE (irritated) No, I don't. TINA Its just that...well...you know, he's just moved in. GENEVIEVE What about your other room? An uncomfortable pause. TINA Look, if Mickey found out... GENEVIEVE Where am I supposed to go now? Tina looks up and back to Fabian. TINA Weve been searching for each other all our lives. He nods. Genevieve grasps the situation. GENEVIEVE Really! She turns on her heel. TINA Please, Gen. Dont be mad with me. Ill get you some money. You can stay tonight. Ignoring her, Genevieve stomps off back to her car. Int. Toyota. Night. She struggles to start it. Tina appears and hammers on the window. TINA (CONTD) (yelling) Gen, wait...please. She roars off. Through the rear window, Tina stands stranded, cupping her hand over her mouth. GENEVIEVE I hope you and your fucking Fabian live happily ever after. ext. Seafront car park. rain. Night. Facing the wild ocean through rain streaked windows, Genevieve flips through the wallet, counting banknotes. She stops and stares melancholy through the windscreen. FADE TO BLACK. Ext. Seafront. rain. night. Through the misted glass, the shadowy figure of Genevieve is huddled asleep under her coat on the backseat. FADE TO BLACK. Ext. Seafront shower block. early Morning. A miserable overcast morning. Rough seas. The Toyota, stands alone in the carpark. The sound of a shower running. A loud gasp. GENEVIEVE (O.S.) Aaarrgh! Brrrrr. FADE TO BLACK. Genevieve, in work clothes and drying her face with a skimpy towel, hobbles out of the shower block, bare footed to her car. She reaches in the back door and retrieves her shoes. She attempts to comb her knotted hair in the side mirror. Int. Large OFFICE BUILDING. DAY. Genevieve, pasty, with her hair swept back fiercely, sits behind the busy reception desk. EXT. LEAFY SUBURBAN STREET. CLEAR NIGHT. The Toyota clatters slowly along a quiet, tree-lined street. It pulls into the kerb. 00020000079C00005B9F796,In her work clothes, Genevieve gets out of the car. With the wallet in her hand, she searches for a letter box, before opening a strong, wrought iron gate. Still searching, her attention is drawn to a foreboding, nineteenth century, single storey mansion, situated in large grounds and standing eerily in virtual darkness save for a dim light issuing from a bay window. However,of more consequence to her is the crisp sound of a French Musette played on an unaccompanied harpsichord drifting out into the cold night. Genevieve is drawn hypnotically down the path, the music becoming louder as she steps up onto a sweeping veranda. She stands mesmerized, before an imposing front door. INT. Old THREE STOREY MANSION. night. Its surreal: The harpsichord music intensifies as the door opens of its own accord and Genevieve steps through. An elegant wooden staircase looms directly ahead, beckoning seductively. She climbs the stairs as the tempo and sound level of the music steadily increases. As she reaches the landing, a door directly in front of her is ajar. Slowly she pushes it to reveal a large, ornately furnished room. Across the room, GRANDMA and YOUNG GENEVIEVE are playing on the harpsichord with tremendous gusto. The hypnotic music reaches a frenetic crescendo and resonates to a halt. Grandma steps back, and throws her arms in the air as young Genevieve grips her around the waist. Genevieve, in the doorway, claps fervently. Young Genevieve and Grandma turn towards her and bow in unison. Elated, the pair dance together triumphantly around the room. Genevieve, looks on, enchanted. EXT. FRONT DOOR ALCOVE. NIGHT. Genevieve tolls a large, bronze, external bell. The resonance causes her to wince. She shuffles around uneasily before ringing again. The music stops abruptly. Erratic footsteps approach, she takes a step backwards. The door opens slightly and Mr Bellows, wearing a light, cotton peaked cap, peers around. 000200000B6A00006335B64,She tentatively steps forward, an arm outstretched. GENEVIEVE I've got your wallet. I found it. Remember? He snatches the wallet out of her hand. MR BELLOWS (gruffly) Thank you. Slamming the door, he narrowly avoids crushing her fingers. In utter consternation, Genevieve reaches out to ring the bell again, but resists the urge. Ext. OutSIDE MR BELLOWS HOUSE. Genevieve attempts to start the car but the battery whirs to a halt. She thumps the steering wheel, grabs her handbag and overnight bag and steps out. She looks back at the illuminated window, picks up some gravel and throws it aimlessly at the direction of the house and stomps off down the road. INT. Toyota. outside Mr bellows house. Morning. Genevieve is asleep under a blanket on the back seat. EXT. Toyota. outside mr. Bellows house. MORNINg. A ragged Genevieve in bare feet and a creased uniform, stands on the footpath, shaking and folding a blanket. FADE TO BLACK. She slams the rear door and with her overnight bag and handbag, she heads off down the street. INT. LARGE OFFICE BUILDING. Genevieve tired eyed and looking less than her best, struggles with her workload. A frumpy, officious looking WOMAN accompanies SANDERSON, a tall, crisply dressed man in his mid-forties. They head towards the reception desk where the woman beckons to a bewildered Genevieve to accompany Sanderson. The woman smugly takes over Genevieves station. Genevieve and Sanderson walk back to the lift. INT. sandersons OFFICE. Sanderson and Genevieve are seated either side of a large, equipment laden desk. He leans back in his huge leather chair. SANDERSON You must understand Genevieve, its just not working out for either of us. Its nothing personal. GENEVIEVE Nothing personal!? You don't get much more bloody personal than sacking someone. SANDERSON Okay, steady down now. You knew when you took this position that it was on a trial basis only? GENEVIEVE Exactly, a trial basis! I've only been here a week. I've not stopped... SANDERSON I know... GENEVIEVE Ive been working my bloody arse off for you. He offers a vacuous smile. SANDERSOn Look, Genevieve, I know where you're coming from and I fully understand your feelings but you must see it from the companys standpoint. GENEVIEVE The companys!? How would you know how I'm feeling? SANDERSON Listen, dont get me wrong. I didnt...I..I'm on your side. The final decision was really out of my hands. Shes not disguising her outrage. GENEVIEVE I know who gave you a final decision. Some bastards been in your ear, haven't they? He wriggles and squirms. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Come on. SANDERSON I have no idea what you are talking about. She thumps the desk. GENEVIEVE Yes you do. SANDERSON Look, we would have checked your background anyway...as a matter of routine. She springs up and looms threateningly over the desk at him. A bead or two of perspiration breaks out on his brow. GENEVIEVE 0002000008A500006E9989F,Background! You lying, cowardly, pathetic, fucking shit. She turns and stomps towards the door. Suddenly, a change of mind as she twirls around and swiftly returns. Her face breaks into a sort of affectionate smile. Hes confused. A hint of salvation lights his face. Placing her hands under the lip of the desk and with an almighty heave, she flips the desk over, scattering everything off and over the terrified man. Int. corridor. She darts out of the room towards the lift. Pressing the button, the lift arrives immediately. As she enters, Sanderson, races out of the office in a futile attempt to stop her. Int. reception area. Modern office building. The lift door opens and Genevieve pushes her way out. She charges straight towards the busy desk. The frumpy woman foolishly looks up with a smug grin. Genevieve returns the smile before imparting an almighty slap to the side of her face, knocking her off her chair. She picks up telephone and computer equipment and smashes them to the ground. Terrified PEOPLE, transfixed by this manic display, stare in disbelief. Sanderson along with two burly SECURITY GUARDS rush to the scene where all three drag the now calm, eerily smirking Genevieve to a small room at the end of the foyer. EXT. GLENHAVEN PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL. AFTERNOON. A police car drives through the main gate. As the car passes, we see Genevieves emotionless face through the car window. INT. Hospital isolation room. Dressed in a white hospital gown, Genevieve sits, knees up under her chin, on a single bed. She stares into an unseen distance. INT. Private HOSPITAL room. DAY. Its a surreal view: Genevieve stands by the door. Young Genevieve and a NANNY sit either side of the bed. A large china vase is supported by a swing out adjustable table. Grandma, partially propped up, is describing her stomach operation. Grandma ...and they told me some of my intestines had to be taken out carefully. I had tubes stuck in everywhere... The gruesome details induce the young Genevieve to squirm and nervously twiddle the knurled knob of the table adjuster. The table crashes down on to Grandmas stomach and she lets out a thunderous groan. Young Genevieve becomes hysterical. 000200000C0600007738C00,The Nanny, panic stricken, rushes to get help but is met by NURSES and ORDERLIES reacting to the commotion. They wheel Grandma, past the older Genevieve. GENEVIEVE It was an accident Grandma. I didn't mean it. The bed has become a coffin on a trolley. Grandma rises up and glares at Genevieve accusingly. GRANDMother Yes, you did! The coffin lid slams shut. A despairing Genevieve hammers on the coffin. INT. single room. Glenhaven. Its now apparent that the hammering is coming from her door. She stares blankly ahead. The door opens and a magazine trolley pushes its way in, followed by BERNARD, a wiry, small, bespectacled, thirtyish man, in a hospital gown, who stammers badly. BerNARD Hello. Welcome back. I thought you might like a magazine or something. She looks up vacantly at this weasel faced, wild haired character and immediately lowers her head again. He sheepishly backs out and closes the door behind him. INT. Rhapsodies. MORNING. Italian Baroque music is playing. The shop is without customers. At the end of a counter, tapping away at a computer is MEREDITH, early twenties, short, nerdy, but curiously attractive under a pair of horn rimmed glasses. Victor sits behind the counter in a high backed office chair, reading the Form Guide and ticking off his fancies. A stack of CDs are awaiting his attention. MeREDITH Victor! Theyre not going to sell sitting on the counter. VICTOR (without looking up) Rome wasnt built in a day. MEREDITH Its hard enough selling anything at the moment. Come on, Im busy. VICTOR Dont panic, Meredith. My fortune is staring at me on these pages. Meredith just shakes her head. He turns to her. VICTOR (CONTD) Besides, current global economics suggests downsizing as the means to a swift recovery. MEREDITH Oh yeah, I can just see you here all day by yourself handling all those bothersome customers. VICTOR Putty in my hands. He returns to his paper. MEREDITH Which reminds me. While you were out, a woman rang. She said you served her and her husband. Victor doesn't look up. VICTOR Yes, Meredith, I have, over the years, been known to serve the odd customer. MEREDITH She said they were after Strauss and you sold them Richard Strauss. He continues reading. VICTOR "Rikard"! "Rikard" Strauss! That's how the man says it on FM. MEREDITH You knew full well theyd want Johann Strauss. Thats not very nice, Victor. Victor drops his paper and rises from his chair. VICTOR You know Meredith, how many people come in here poncing on about...we only listen to Classicals. Then ask for the Blue bloody Danube. MEREDITH But you didnt have to sell them a boxed set of Opera! Elektra! Victor camps it up, breaking into a song and dance, vaguely from the The King and I. VICTOR Theyll Be Whistling A Happy Tune And Dancing Round The Floor. Meredith waves her arms in despair and goes back to her work. MEREDITH Anyway, theyre bringing it back. Victor ignores her as he espies Mr Bellows through the window. With his briefcase in one hand and the aid of a walking stick in the other, he hobbles towards the door. 0002000009F6000083389F0,VICTOR Well, well, Long John Silvers arrived. Mr Bellows fails to acknowledge them as he enters the shop. Victor raises his voice for his benefit. VICTOR Elektra. Every home should have a set. MEREDITH Music to slash your wrists by. He picks up a CD case and waves it at the speakers. VICTOR Not like all these Corellis and Locatellis and all those other Ellis. Dont you agree, Mr Bellows? Mr Bellows, head buried in the music racks, faintly moves his head in a non-committal manner. Victor starts to gather the CDs. VICTOR (CONTD) All sounds like a bowl of spaghetti to me. MeREDITh Its up to our customers to decide that. VICTOR Customers!? Its my purpose in life to musically educate the cus-tom-ers. Anyway, this shop would tick over like clockwork if it wasn't for cus-tom-ers. VICTOR (CONTD) There are exceptions of course. Victor raises his voice for Mr Bellows benefit. VICTOR (CONTD) Mr Bellows, now theres a real customer. A sheer delight to serve. Mr Bellows, again, is non-committal. VICTOR (CONTD) You know, I'm tempted to bring in a camp stretcher, then I could open 24 hours every day, just so I could attend to your every whim... Mr. Bellows turns and nods and turns back again. VICTOR (CONTD) ...and listen to your endless puns and anecdotes. Victor places an LP on the turntable and cleans it with a Decca Cleaning Brush. Mr. Bellows moves towards the counter. MR BELLOWS Has my Wanda Landowska come in? Victor turns, confused. VICTOR I got it in! Youve already picked it up! MR BELLOWS (brusquely) No I didn't. Victor, casts a sideways, quizzical glance at Meredith and turns back to his cleaning. VICTOR Leave it with me, Mr Bellows. I'll chase it up. Meredith scribbles the order on a scrap of paper. VICTOR Hows the leg coming along? Mr Bellows just grunts, nods and then leaning heavily on his walking stick, leaves the shop. VICTOR He picked it up...yesterday. MEREDITH I know. VICTOR He's done this before. MEREDITH Weird. EXT. GENEVIEVES FLAT. LATE MORNING. A taxi draws up. Genevieve gets out, grasping her handbag and overnight bag and passes the driver a slip of paper. The taxi drives off. Genevieve opens the side, metal door. INT. MURKY STAIRWELL. She gingerly climbs the stairs before becoming aware of the bracket hanging limply from her door. The door is unlocked. INT. genevieves flat. In grave anticipation, Genevieve peers around the door to find an empty room, save for a few sticks of furniture. Genevieve stands horrified, gaping at the space where the harpsichord stood. 00020000087600008D28870,EXT. Telephone Booth. AFTERNOON. Genevieve is frantically dialing. GENEVIEVE (shouting) What have you done with my harpsichord? You what!? You cant sell it. Youve no fucking right. Its mine. If you dont give it back, Im gonna come... (now screaming) Ill kill you, you bastard. I know how to fix you up. She slams the phone down and stomps off down the street. Int. City cafe. Day. Genevieve, red eyed and dabbing her nose with a tissue, sits at a table with a coffee in a run down establishment. She broods, forlorn. As she sips her coffee, a notion comes to her. Ext. telephone booth. Day. GENEVIEVE Hello! Yeah, its a club...strip joint. Yeah...Look, its really worth investigating. Im feeling sick just talking about it... FADE TO BLACK. Ext. bus stop. busy road. Late morning. Alighting the bus, Genevieve hesitates while finding her bearings. She continues along before turning into a side street. EXT. outside MR BELLOWS' HOUSE. Late morning. Genevieve glances at her de-wheeled Toyota and then at Mr Bellows house. Ext. Mr BELLOWS front GARDEN. late morning. She opens the large wrought iron gates, follows the path to the front door and rings the bell. After lingering for a while she turns and walks back. EXT. OPPOSITE MR BELLOWS' HOUSE. day. Genevieve is sitting on a low wall, opposite the house. Shes staring into an invisible space. EXT. CEMETERY. DAY. Its surreal. A small gathering of mourners are grouped around an open grave. Young Genevieve is slowly walking towards the congregation carrying a single rose in her hand. She stops suddenly as the mourners turn in unison and glare at her scornfully. The older Genevieve, now replacing Young Genevieve, turns, hurries away and hides behind a tree. The mourners turn back towards the grave. EXT. opposite mr bellows house. day. Genevieve, is pacing up and down, puffing heavily on a cigarette. FADE TO BLACK. Genevieve, sitting on the wall, head down, rocks backwards and forwards humming to herself. She is caught unawares as Mr Bellows with his leather bag and stick, approaches. She darts across the road and catches him before he can shut the gates. GENEVIEVE (all bubbly) 0002000008A20000959889C,Hello, sir! Do you remember me? Startled, he swings around. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) I returned your wallet. He pushes the gate shut. She, in turn, pushes it open again and pursues him up the path. Ext. Mr bellows garden. Day. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) I was just wondering...if..if you could tell me what that music was you were playing the other night? MR BELLOWS (gruffly) What music? He flashes a look of recognition then continues to walk down the path casting a harried look over his shoulder. GENEVIEVE That harpsichord music! He desperately fumbles for his keys in his coat pocket. MR BELLOWS Leave me alone. GENEVIEVE Please, I really need to know. He unlocks the front door and squeezes himself through. Genevieve jams her foot in the door. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) It was me...me who saved your life. I got your heart started. MR BELLOWS Go away! Genevieve pushes on the door. GENEVIEVE Please! MR BELLOWS You ran over me! They both push against each other. Mr Bellows, in his weakened state, topples over backwards and the door flies open. Genevieve, stumbles through the doorway, trips and falls on top of him. Int. Hallway. Sheer terror envelops him. She giggles. GENEVIEVE Shit! Are you okay? He tries to push her away. MR BELLOWS Get, get off me! GENEVIEVE Don't you like women? Genevieve struggles up and brushes herself down. He attempts to get up, but falls back. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) C'mon. She struggles to lift him to his feet. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) You need looking after. MR BELLOWS I don't need your help. She take his arm and wraps it around her neck and with a superhuman effort, manages to get him to his feet and assist him along the hallway. Part way down the hall, he reaches back to place his flat hat on a hat stand and then replace it with a light, cotton, flat, peaked cap. Genevieves in disbelief. MR BELLOWS I don't let any floozy just blow in. She giggles. GENEVIEVE Come on, let me make us a nice cup of tea. Int. KITCHEN. Later. A very large kitchen, little changed since the fifties. A huge array of old recipe books are arranged on shelves, library fashion. Genevieve and Mr Bellows are seated at opposite ends of a large rectangular table. A floral tea set adorns the table. 0002000008E700009E348E1,GENEVIEVE ...you were playing it when I came to your door that night. Genevieve watches intently as Mr Bellows pours a small amount of tea from his cup into his saucer, blows on it and tilts it to his mouth. He rises, grabs his stick and clunks out of the room. She casts a curious eye around her. He returns carrying a small, leather bound book. MR BELLOWS (grumpily) What day? GENEVIEVE Oh...ah, last Thursday. He sits back down and opens what appears to be a diary. He flips a few pages before pausing. MR BELLOWS Couperin. Francois Couperin "Pieces de Clavecin". GENEVIEVE Could be... Mr BELLOWS The only pieces I played that night were the Musete de Choisi and The Musete de Taverni. She shakes her head and reflects for a moment. GENEVIEVE Do you write down everything you play in a book? MR BELLOWS No, I write it in a diary. GENEVIEVE Why do you need to write it in a diary? MR BELLOWS For reference. GENEVIEVE When would you ever need to..? She cups her head in her hands. The kitchen door flies open and BEULAH, a heavily built woman in pinafore and ugg boots, bursts in carrying a yellow, plastic bucket and a mop. Genevieve turns and gestures a hello but receives a glare in return. Then, without a murmur, the woman barrels straight out of the back door. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Who was that? MR BELLOWS Beulah! GENEVIEVE Whos Beulah? Mr BELLOWS She does my cleaning. GENEVIEVE (tongue-in-cheek) Your wife? MR BELLOWS (panic-struck) No..no, I'm not married! Not Beulah. GENEVIEVE That's a relief. I'd hate her to have caught us on the floor. MR BELLOWS She cleans Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. GENEVIEVE Is she looking after your leg? MR BELLOWS Its not her job. GENEVIEVE But youd think... MR BELLOWS My Hi-fis never clean. GENEVIEVE Why don't you sack her? MR BELLOWS (indignantly) I'd have to find someone else. GENEVIEVE Is that so hard? MR BELLOWS They might not clean my Hi-Fi either. GENEVIEVE I could clean for you. I'll make sure your Hi-Fis spotless. MR BELLOWS (panic) No, no. Ive got Beulah! GENEVIEVE But shes not doing her job! Hes not handling the pace. MR BELLOWS I..I..can dust it myself! GENEVIEVE You cant do that. You need a nurse and a professional cleaner. One who understands the importance of a dust-less Hi-Fi. 000200000A2B0000A715A25,As good as ensnared, he fidgets and squirms. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) I promise I won't run you over with my vacuum cleaner. He desperately tries to regain control. MR BELLOWS You took my money! GENEVIEVE I know, but...look...I'll work the first week for nothing. MR BELLOWS (under his breath) First week!? Its a lot... Her eyes shine with an inner light of determination. GENEVIEVE ...but I'm gonna need a bit of an advance... (pausing) ...in advance. He opens his mouth but hes stumped. Beulah, in her hat and coat, thunders back in. Mr Bellows reacts by cowering as she passes. Genevieve, with deliberate timing, seizes the moment. GENEVIEVE So, its settled? Beulah pays no heed and disappears out the back door again. Genevieve stands up. GENEVIEVE Well, come on then, show me what I've gotta clean. Genevieve scoots out of the kitchen. Mr Bellows, frustration in every muscle, leans heavily on his stick as he struggles to catch up. Int. lounge ROOM. A huge Edwardian room, relatively unchanged in half a century except for an array of sophisticated Hi-fi equipment, decidedly out of place and spread over an ornate sideboard. Genevieve bustles through the door with Mr Bellows in tow. She picks up a small picture frame from the sideboard and studies a photo of a middle-aged woman. MR BELLOWS B..but, Beulah? She continues studying the picture. GENEVIEVE Leave that to me. I know all about sackings INT. sandersons. Office. Its surreal. An important-looking Genevieve, in a dark suit and tie, now sits in Sandersons oversized leather chair. Seated opposite is a poker faced Beulah, in her pinafore and boots, gripping the mop in a bucket. GENEVIEVE ...so you must understand, its nothing personal. Its just not working out for either of us. BEULAH Nothing personal!? You don't get much more bloody personal than sacking someone. GENEVIEVE Look, I know where you're coming from and I fully understand your feelings. BEULAH Somebody's been in your fucking ear! INT. Foyer. Large office building. Still surreal. The lift door opens and Beulah with mop and bucket charges out and heads for the reception desk where Mr Bellows in headphones sits tapping away at a keyboard. He ducks for cover as Beulah thunders past. INT. lounge ROOM. Genevieve turns to Mr Bellows with a nocuous smirk. MR BELLOWS I want to keep things the way they are. GENEVIEVE Listen to me, will you? I'm a great cook...Italian, French... anything...Eskimo...you name it. She turns her back and walks away. He stumbles after her. MR BELLOWS I do all the cooking. GENEVIEVE Good, more time for me to look after you. 0002000009600000B13A95A,MR BELLOWS No! Giggling, she swings around to face him. Hes losing. GENEVIEVE Listen. If you give me the job, I'll let you read all my references. She waits for a response. Words fail him. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) So, its all agreed then? MR BELLOWS (spluttering) First you..you run me over, you steal my wallet, you..you push me over in my house and now..now you want to be my cleaner. GENEVIEVE (scanning the room) Housekeeper! Live in housekeeper! Swinging away, she traipses out of the room and through another door. He hobbles after her. INT. DRAWING ROOM. Genevieve peers into the large, musty room, hung with old, wooden framed, brownish sepia photos of relatives long gone. An upright piano is against one wall. She enters. He appears. An old goose neck Edison cylinder player intrigues her. She walks over and lifts the steel arm. He hurries over. MR BELLOWs Live in? Why live in? He brushes her aside and puts the arm back in place. She swings around to him. GENEVIEVE Because I'm broke. Because I don't have anywhere to live and because you owe me for saving your life...twice. He gives her quizzical look. FADE TO black. INT. Glenhaven. Common room. Day. Its surreal. Mr Bellows looks puzzled as he examines a chessboard. Its a large, rectangular activity room. Gowned patients pace up and down, are asleep on benches or rock back and forth in chairs, a number are engaged in reading or just watching television. Seated opposite Mr Bellows is Bernard who has just made a smart move and is getting excited. With one hand, he idly shuffles a pack of cards as he watches Mr Bellows. His speech impediment is pronounced today. BERNARD Then you wrap a rag around the drill to keep the noise down, then climb through the roof straight to the safe full of priceless jewels. MR BELLOWS Have you ever drilled through a roof, Bernard? BERNARD Not exactly. I saw it in an old film. French film. Rifif... He struggles with the title. BERNARD (CONTD) I wish theyd called it something else. MR BELLOWS We shouldn't be talking about things like this. BERNARD They cant stop you from talking. MR BELLOWS They'll keep you here forever. BERNARD Innovative crime is my hobby. Nothing wrong with that. A poker faced, chubby NURSE in her mid-thirties, moves towards the chess table and politely addresses Mr Bellows. NURSE Come on, Langdon it's time to go. You can continue that later. MR BELLOWS 00020000070F0000BA94709,I don't want to see him anymore. NURSE Yes you do, now come along. BERNARD Hes just a bloody quack. Meanwhile, Genevieve, red hair tousled, in a white cotton dressing gown and slippers, shuffles past. She flops down on a nearby couch and reaches for a magazine. The nurse attempts to grab Mr Bellows' arm. He slaps her arm away. MR BELLOWS I dont want to see him anymore! NURSE Come quietly Langdon, we don't want any fuss, do we? Genevieve looks up from the couch. GENEVIEVE Hey! You heard what he said. NURSE This doesn't concern you, Genevieve. GENEVIEVE He's got his rights. BERNARD Thats right. Were gonna finish the game. Mr Bellows folds his arms in defiance. NURSE Be quiet, Bernard. The doctor can't wait. He's a very busy man. BERNARD Stiff ba..biscuits! GENEVIEVE Were all busy as well. Busy avoiding the bastards. She turns back to her magazine. NURSE Genevieve. I said that's enough. Do you understand? Mr Bellows is becoming foetal. MR BELLOWS I'm not going...I don't like him. NURSE Have it your way then. The nurse signals to two strategically placed ORDERLIES. They saunter over. ORDERLY #1 Come on sir. Don't make it hard for yourself. MR BELLOWS No. No more! The second orderly reaches for his arm. Bernard grabs his other arm but is pushed aside. They drag a moaning and wailing Mr Bellows out of the room and into a quiet corridor. Bernard is clinging onto his gown. Genevieve gets up and follows, keeping her distance. Int. hospital corridor. DAY. Genevieve observes the two orderlies laying into both Mr Bellows and Bernard. Sprinting towards them, she throws herself into the fray, screaming, punching and scratching. Two more orderlies rush down the corridor and together with the other pair, restrain the three of them. They drag them away individually. FADE TO BLACK. 000200000C4C0000C19DC46,INT. drawing Room. Genevieves attention is drawn to the upright piano against a wall. Mr Bellows is busy with his handkerchief dusting the germs from his machine. She raises the lid of the piano and tinkles out a few bars from Bachs Notebook of Anna Magdelena. Mr Bellows spins around, eyes ablaze. MR BELLOWS You play Bach! She looks back over her shoulder. GENEVIEVE I prefer Handel. Turning back, she melodramatically strikes a chord, shuts the lid and moves purposefully towards him, extending her hand. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Genevieve McAfferty, Mr Bellows...but we dont need any introductions, do we? He stands overwhelmed and defeated. EXT. ThE TAINTED LADY. NIGHT. Neon lights form outlines of naked women: Two police cars screech to a halt. Six COPS rush into the club as another police car pulls up. INT. Tainted lady. NIGHT. Loud, pumping music and flashing lights. Middle-aged men sit around tables ogling semi-naked women gyrating vaguely in time with the music. Police scatter through the crowd as patrons look to escape. Int. mickeys. OFFICE. Mickey sits expressionless at a ridiculously large, wooden desk. Two cops stand over him. First COP A leopard doesnt change the colour of its stripes. Well be back. Mickey Im sure you will. The police leave the room and shut the door after them. Int. tainted lady. A particularly young looking DANCER is being questioned by a FEMALE COP. Int. MickeYS OFFICE The carpet is rolled back. Mickey is on his knees. A small stack of girly videos and DVDs sit by him. He stuffs them down a trapdoor. A knock on the door. MICKEY Just a minute. Mickey slams the trapdoor down, rolls the carpet back and slips back behind his desk. MICKEY (CONTD) Come in! Joey enters, shuts the door and stands with his back to it. He sighs. MICKEY (CONTD) Weve got ourselves a problem. Joey nods his head. Int. tainted lady. The police clear from the half empty club. The tempo returns. A scantily clad Tina, straddled over an elderly man, resumes a lap dance. Joey brushes alongside Tina and whispers in her ear. Tina, uneasy, continues on. Int. Mickeys office. Mickey sits at his desk with a mean looking Dwayne and Joey, either side of him. Tina sits, wide eyed, opposite, immodestly attired in the remnants of a nurses uniform with exposed breasts and tassels attached to each nipple. TINA She didn't tell me where she was going...she rushed off so quick. MICKEY You wouldnt lie to me now, would you, Tina? TINA No. I hardly spoke to her. She didnt tell me nothin. Honest Mickey. MICKEY Do you remember Omar? Our old bouncer? Nice guy... (turning to the goons) ...agreed boys? They both nod. TINA Hes dead, isnt he? MICKEY Unfortunately. God bless his soul. He lied to me once! Tina is getting spooked. TINA Look, Mickey, Im telling you the truth, I swear it. MICKEY Get out and get them tits twirling. Earn your keep. Tina slinks out of the room, closing the door behind her. MICKEY Keep a tag on her. EXT. MR BELLOWS FRONT DOOR. MORNING. Genevieve, with her overnight bag, rings the doorbell. Mr Bellows answers. She greets him as if she were the lady of the manor. GENEVIEVE 0002000008BD0000CDE38B7,James! Fetch my bags and lead me to my parlour. Naively he peers around her. They step inside. INT. hALLWAY. GENEVIEVE Hurry up and get me my own key, I refuse to ding that bell again. I'm going deaf. INT. GENEVIEVE'S ROOM. Mr Bellows opens the door to a large, dingy room. Mr BELLOWS Come through. They enter a room with a single, wrought iron bed, an old lead-light panelled wardrobe and an archaic, oval mirrored, dressing table. GENEVIEVE God, what is that smell? MR BELLOWS What smell? GENEVIEVE What do you mean, what smell? Who was renting before me? Ned Kelly? MR BELLOWS No, no...it..it hasn't been used for a while. She checks over the room. MR BELLOWS (CONTD) It used to be my room. The lady of the manor continues. She turns to him. GENEVIEVE Now look here, Mr Bellows, you must understand. A refined, elegant lady like myself will accept nothing less than the finest in bedroom furnishings... the sort of things Ive been accustomed too. MR BELLOWS (puzzled) Wh..what do you mean? GENEVIEVE Modern things, like..ah, four poster beds, satin sheets, jacquard quilt covers, pink lace curtains, heated pillowcases. Those sorts of things. MR BELLOWS There..there is another room. GENEVIEVE Nah, Ill suffer this. He nods and leaves her to inspect the room. She opens the wardrobe door and reels back before inspecting the drawers. She upends her bag onto the bed and begins to put her things into the drawers. The familiar harpsichord music can be heard faintly. Genevieve opens her bedroom door and stands in the doorway. INT. hallway. Intrigued, she follows the sound down the hallway to a door. INT. LOUNGE ROOM. The music is loud. Mr Bellows is not to be seen. She notices a narrow doorway. INT. RECORD ROOM. A long, narrow, dimly lit room, filled floor-to-ceiling with records and CDs. Mr Bellows is at the opposite end sorting through LPs. She stands tentatively in the doorway. GENEVIEVE Thats my music youre playing. He looks up. She slips in and looks around in awe. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Jesus! How long have you been collecting all this? He doesn't answer. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Have you got the cover to the one that's playing? Mr Bellows struggles up. He moves to a shelf, removes an LP and hands it to her. 0002000007E80000D69A7E2,GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Its sealed up! How did you get the record out of the cover? MR BELLOWS Its a different one. GENEVIEVE (baffled) No, I want to see the one that's playing. He nods an affirmation. She looks confused. Suddenly it dawns. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) You've got two? Without answering, he continues sorting. Genevieve slides out three more copies, all sealed and identical. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) You must really like this record. He still remains silent. She continues thumbing through his collection. She looks to ask questions but resists. She heads towards the door. MR BELLOWS (O.S.) They damage easily. Smiling, she pretends not to hear. Int. lounGE ROOM. Genevieve noisily vacuums the carpet. Mr Bellows sits in his armchair wincing, as he tries hard to listen to music. He eases himself. She shuts it down. MR BELLOWs I'm going to start dinner. GENEVIEVE What are we having? Mr BELLOWS I'm doing Light and Tasty Beef Stroganoff. GENEVIEVE Can I help? He heads towards the kitchen. MR BELLOWS I..I've done it before. Int. KITCHEN. Mr Bellows is balanced precariously on one leg, on an old wooden stool. He is struggling to retrieve a recipe book from the high shelf. Genevieve, manoeuvering the vacuum cleaner through the kitchen door, looks up at him. GENEVIEVE Youre gonna do your leg in? He slowly eases himself from the stool and she climbs up. She runs her hands along the rows of recipe books. She turns to Mr Bellows who is now propped against the table. GENEVIEVE Where will I find it? MR BELLOWS Under L. GENEVIEVE L? She looks at him but he says nothing. The penny drops. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Light and Tasty. She grabs the appropriate recipe book and holds it out. He nods. InT. kiTCHEN. later Mr Bellows, in a butchers white apron, is slicing mushrooms on a chopping board and tossing them on to an old see-saw scale while simultaneously turning to read from his recipe book. Genevieve enters the kitchen. She peeks at the page and places her arm around his shoulder. She turns to the scales. 0002000007210000DE7C71B,GENEVIEVE Jesus! That's a lot of mushrooms. All your mates coming round? MR BELLOWS 200 grams! She checks the book. GENEVIEVE (chuckling) It says serves six! He grunts and continues dicing. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Are you suggesting I need fattening? MR BELLOWS No, no...you're fat enough. GENEVIEVE Thank you, Mr Bellows! He blindly continues dicing. Smiling, she shakes her head. Ext. Mr BELLOWS STREET. Late afternoon. Genevieve struggles along the footpath with several shopping bags. In the distance sits the Toyota with the bonnet up. A Porsche partially turns into a driveway, screeches to a halt, blocks her path and unbalances her. The slick PORSCHE DRIVER rises in his seat, slips off his sunglasses and leers at her. PORSCHE driver Can I help you with your shopping madam? Maintaining her dignity, she is forced to walk around the car. GENEVIEVE Im okay, thank you. PORSCHE driver An attractive lady like yourself shouldnt be carrying all that weight. She continues on and without turning, bawls out. GENEVIEVE Neither should your neck. He chuckles and then a realisation. He shouts back. Porsche driver What are yer? A bloody Lezzo? She ignores him as he screeches up to his garage. EXT. mr BELLOWS GATES. Late afternoon. She struggles up the path, drops the bags, reaches for her keys and unlocks the front door. INT. KITCHEN. Mr Bellows is reading at the kitchen table. Genevieve bursts through the door. She heaves the bags on to the bench with a big sigh and rummages in her handbag. She retrieves two boxes of pills and slides a box to him. GENEVIEVE Im done in. He grunts. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) I feel like Ive been sitting on bloody buses all day. How the hell are you supposed to cart home a full weeks shopping? I'll put all this stuff away in a minute. I've just gotta get out of these clothes. 0002000008140000E59780E,He gives her a furtive glance as she leaves. INT. GENEVIEVE'S ROOM. She enters a completely refurbished room, including a single four-poster bed, satin sheets, jacquard quilt cover and pink lace curtains. Mr. Bellows edges up behind her. She struggles to find an appropriate utterance. MR BELLOWS I tried to get heated pillowcases. GENEVIEVE Oh! I dont believe it. Mr BELLOWS They didnt know what I was talking about. With a squeal she flings her arms around his neck and all but flattens him before turning back and leaping on to the bed. She bounces up and down. GENEVIEVE You didnt have to. I was only... I had a bed like this when I was a little girl. Oh, what can I say? She leaps up and plants a big kiss on his cheek. GENEVIEVE Thank you. He inclines his head politely and wipes his face. MR BELLOWS I...I'll go and put the kettle on. Genevieve turns and performs another flying leap on to the bed. ext. Mr bellows garden. Sunny day. Genevieve, in a thick woollen jumper, scarf, beanie and gum boots is pruning, with zeal, an overgrown bush under the open window of the lounge room. Solo harpsichord music wafts from the room. She pauses momentarily before stretching up and yelling through the window. GENEVIEVE I know that...its nice. MR BELLOWS o.S. (raised voice) Scarlatti! GENEVIEVE My Grandmother used to play it. Genevieve listens and enjoys it for a while. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Listen, next time youre in town, could you pick me up a nice CD? One for me? You choose. He doesnt answer. Genevieve returns to her gardening. FADE TO BLACK. EXT. Cee dee MANIA. DAY. Mr Bellows stands transfixed in front of a display window, devoted entirely to advertising the latest album by Snoop Dogg. INT. Rhapsodies. Meredith serves a CUSTOMER while Victor sorts records. Standing nervously back from the counter is Mr Bellows. Victor crouches under the counter. VICTOR Ah...just the man I want. I've got your Wanda Landowska CD. MR BELLOWS Have you got Snoop Dogg? VICTOR (bobbing up) A what? MR BELLOWS Snoop Dogg! Meredith overhears the request. 0002000007F90000EDA57F3,MEREDITH (to Victor) Its rap. VICTOR Oh, of course! You'd only have to look around the walls to know that this is the home of rap. MEREDITH Well, we are RHAP-sodies... Who are you buying it for, Mr Bellows? He shuffles uneasily. The customer waves a goodbye. MR BELLOws For me. VICTOR Enough of the probing, Meredith. Of course its for him...can't you tell? Its all in the stance. MR BELLOWS If you haven't got it, can you order it? VICTOR You may as well get it from across the road. Maniacs Music! MEREDITH He means Cee Dee Mania. VICTOR Same difference. You'll blend in nicely there Mr Bellows. MR BELLOWS I only shop here. VICTOR There you go, loyalty, thats what we encourage. Meredith, grab some money from the till and go and fetch him his Snoopy Doggie. Meredith, showing her disdain, raids the till and turns to leave. VICTOR (CONTD) Oh, and if its on special, a large can of Pal. FADE TO BLACK. Meredith has returned. Victor places a CD in the machine then slyly twists the volume control. Mr Bellows stretches headphones over his flat hat. He waits patiently before taking on the look of a boxer reeling from a right cross. He hurriedly removes the phones. MR BELLOWS Tha..that's it. INT. LOUNGE ROOM. EVENING. The piano is now in the lounge room. Under a soft light Genevieve competently plays the Prelude in C major from Bachs The Well-Tempered Clavier. Mr Bellows in his regular armchair, peers above his magazine offering a discerning ear. Concluding the piece, she pulls the lid down and turns to him. GENEVIEVE I dunno. It sounds nicer on harpsichord...dont you think? Mr BELLOWS It was written for harpsichord. He quickly gets up and places a CD in the player then saunters nonchalantly back to his chair. Genevieve slumps on the couch and picks up a magazine. Snoop Dogg blares out: GENEVIEVE (startled) What the hell is that? He disregards her. She yells. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) I hope youre gonna pay for my hearing aid. Mr BELLOWS Its the latest. Its in the windows. GENEVIEVE Thats hip hop. Mr BELLOWS 0002000008450000F59883F,(smugly) Rap. Genevieve, mouth agape, nods dumbly. GENEVIEVE What do you want with rap? MR BELLOWS I got it for you. GENEVIEVE For me? No, I dont like...I didnt mean...Wow...Thank you. INT. Kitchen. Evening. They are seated either side of the table eating dinner. GENEVIEVE You need to get out and about more. MR BELLOWS I do. GENEVIEVE I don't mean your record shop. I mean, what about that guy in the looney bin? The library trolley? You know. The one I used to see you playing chess with? MR BELLOWS Bernard!? GENEVIEVE Yeah, Bernard. The little weasly bloke? You two seemed to get on alright. MR BELLOWS I haven't seen him. GENEVIEVE Hes still inside. (giggling) They'd be nuts to let him out. He grunts. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Leave this with me. As your nurse, housekeeper...uh, gardener and now secretary, I'll ring reception for you. (giggling again) They'll be over the moon to hear my voice again. MR BELLOWS The bus doesn't go all the way to the hospital. Her eyes widen. GENEVIEVE What you need is a car. MR BELLOWS I don't drive! She smiles at him sanctimoniously. He gives her a puzzled look and then a realisation. He bows his head. MR BELLOWS (CONTD) You dont drive very well. GENEVIEVE I was distracted that day, but I'll tell you what. For no extra pay, Im prepared to be your chauffeur as well. MR BELLOWS You'll use the car for yourself! GENEVIEVE Every job has its perks. MR BELLOWS I..I think your taking advantage of me. GENEVIEVE Of course I am! She winds up the charm a notch or two. GeNEVIEVE (CONTD) Don't you think I'm worth it? Mr Bellows pauses to reflect then quickly looks up. MR BELLOWS Don't get a Humber. She stares blankly at him. MR BELLOWS (CONTD) My father had an accident in a Humber. They're not safe. GENEVIEVE (giggling) Just a minute, I'll cross 'Humber' off my list. MR BELLOWS And make sure it has a heater. GENEVIEVE All cars have heaters. MR BELLOWS And seat belts. GENEVIEVE Of course...and I'll check its got four wheels. She takes a small enamel dish in one hand, a serving spoon in the other and with a look of the cat that swallowed the cream. 00020000091B0000FDD7915,GENEVIEVE (CONTD) More sprouts, gorgeous? Ext. MR BELLOWS DRIVEWAY. DAY. A spoked, front wheel of a car skews across the driveway, spitting up gravel in front of Mr Bellows house. Mr Bellows in the passenger seat, sits ashen faced, holding his hat in place in a Volkswagen Beetle convertible. Genevieve, in the drivers seat turns to him, beaming. GENEVIEVE Great heater! EXT. entrance. Glenhaven. MORNING. The Volkswagen pulls up outside the main entrance of the hospital. Mr Bellows gets out. GENEVIEVE Say hello for me. He dithers before establishing his bearings and walking up the steps to the main doors. Genevieve swings the car around and parks. EXT. glenhaven. garden AREA. MORNing. Bernard, now with black swept-back hair and oval, black-rimmed glasses sits alone at a garden table. He looks up to see a puffing Mr Bellows. He raises his hand. Bernard has lost his speech impediment. BERNARD What kept you? MR BELLOWS I got lost. BERNARD You know this place backwards. MR BELLOWS I..I've never come through the visitor's entrance. Mr Bellows sits down opposite Bernard. EXT. glenhaven car park. MORNING. Genevieve is edgy as she leans against the car smoking. She glances towards the front entrance of the hospital and then across to a payphone near the gates. EXT. glenhaven. garden AREA. MORNING. BERNARD They claimed I passed over thousands of dollars. Lying bastards. MR BELLOWS Did you? BERNARD Of course not! (leans over confidingly) Tens of thousands. MR BELLOWS Have you still got some of it? BERNARD No. They were on to me. I had to get rid of it, but I didnt waste any. I went on a world cruise. Lived like a king. Mr Bellows stares curiously at Bernard. BERNARD (CONTD) Stopped off at Los Angeles. Met a contact. Mr BELLOWS What do you mean, a contact? BERNARD A mate of mine who rounded up the cents at the Electric Company, then made off with squillions. Two orderlies saunter past, chatting idly. Bernard eyes them guardedly. MR BELLOWS Did you stay in his house? BERNARD (looking back) No, no. He was locked up someplace else. MR BELLOWS Are you taking your medication? He nods indifferently. Mr BELLOWS (CONTD) You look different. BERNARD (whispering) Thats right. I changed my whole identity. Had a face lift done in Hong Kong. I ordered a Cary Grant...came out looking like Jackie Chan. 000200000871000106EC86B,(pause) I even changed my name. MR BELLOWS Oh! Are you still Bernard? BERNARD Yeah...still Bernard...Bernard Chan. Bernard looks from side to side and then pushes his sleeve up. BERNARD (CONTD) Have a look at this. He exposes a small multi coloured triangular tattoo. Mr. Bellows looks at it with amazement. bERNARD (CONTD) The ink they use in this is the same...same texture they use in banknotes. They lock eyes. EXT. PAYPHONE. glenhaven. MORNING. Genevieve is midway through a conversation with Tina. GENEVIEVE (exasperated) He was just a bloody beef head. Ext. Glenhaven garden area. Morning. MR BELLOWS Do you think they'll keep you in here for a long time, Bernard? BERNARD Soon as I can prove Im better. MR BELLOWS You dont stutter anymore. BERNARD Sea air! MR BELLOWS Oh! Bernard looks left and right, then leans across confidentially, lowering his voice confidingly. BERNARD You see Langdon. They believe I only commit crimes during mad, crazy spells, so therefore I'm not really responsible for my actions. Thats fantastic...but what do they think I'm doing between spells, eh? Playing bloody tiddlywinks? Like hell...I'll tell you what I'm doing. I'm plotting... scheming...planning... (shaking his head) Idiots. INT. TINA'S BEDROOM. MORNING. Its gaudy and girly. With the phone to her ear, Tina, in a pink dressing gown and a towel wrapped around her head, is lying across the bed, a box of tissues on one side and a box of chocolates the other. TINA (munching, in tears) ...but he was sensitive. When he broke my lady shaver, he went straight out the next day and replaced it with a heavier duty one. GENEVIEVE (O.S.) How thoughtful. TINA Yeah, he was in touch with his feelings. Whats more, Gen, it came with a free nose trimmer. Int. pAYPHONE. glenhaven. morning. GENEVIEVE (chuckling) Look, Tina, its no use wallowing in your misery at home. Ill tell you what. As long as you make sure youre not being followed...come over...come and see my palace. INT. Tinas BEDROOM. TINA Thats nice of you, Gen. I really need someone to talk to. GENEVIEVE (O.S.) Good! TINA Ill be careful. I don't deserve you...I really don't... 00020000092300010F5791D,Ext. glenhaven. garden area. Morning. Bernard and Mr Bellows walk towards the exit gate and shake hands. EXT. glenhaven CAR PARK. MORNING. Genevieve is in the car tapping on the wheel and listening to the radio. Mr Bellows returns. INT. CAR. MORNING. GENEVIEVE How was Bernard? He nods as he shuts the door. MR BELLOWS He looks foreign. GENEVIEVE Foreign!? MR BELLOWS He's had a plastic face-lift. GENEVIEVE A what? They drive off. MR BELLOWS He went on a cruise. The salt water fixed his stutter. She shakes her head in bewilderment. Int. tinas Car. later. Tina is cruising along, looking for Mr Bellows house. Checking in her mirror she notices Mickeys car in the distance. She immediately pulls up at the kerb outside the Porsche drivers house. EXT. MR bellows street. noon. Stepping out of her car with a pink soft bag, she hesitates as she sees the black HSV pull up. She slips down the Porsche drivers driveway and crouches behind his car. Moments later, the HSV with the two goons inside, crawls slowly past the Porsche drivers driveway then roars off. Tina, emerges from behind the car, looks warily around her and scampers across the road and along to Mr Bellows gates. EXT. mr BELLOWS FRONT DOOR. noon. She races up the path and rings the doorbell, tottering back with the resonance. Genevieve appears. TINA I think Ive been followed. They embrace. GENEVIEVE Get in...quick. Genevieve hurriedly leads Tina through the front door but Tina is diverted. TINA Oh wow, Gen...Hollywood! Its just like Julia Roberts and that Richard Nixon bloke. Tina produces a bottle of Kahlua from her bag. They giggle. Genevieve shuts the door. INT. kitchen. LATER. The girls enter the kitchen. Sandwiches and drinks sit on a tablecloth. TINA I reckon I shook em off alright. Tina places her bottle on the table and wide eyed examines the room. TINA (CONTD) Youre so lucky. Mr Bellows, with a cup and saucer, shuffles through the door to the sink, ignoring Tina but casting a scornful eye at the bottle. TINA (CONTD) (whispering) Is that him? He demonstrates his disapproval with an exaggerated sigh. GENEVIEVE Langdon, Id like you to meet... He walks out and slams the door. Genevieve shakes her head apologetically. TINA Hes not what I imagined. He doesnt seem very friendly. 000200000A01000118749FB,GENEVIEVE He is, hes a bit shy. Tina nods and they both sit down. TINA Mickey wont stop chasing you. You know what hes like. GENEVIEVE I'm not scared of that wannabe gangster. TINA I would be. Its all I ever hear...you know...how much you owe him, how much hes done for you. GENEVIEVE How much hes done! TINA Hes up to no good. You can tell. Those cops know something...weve had two raids yknow. gENEVIEVE (gulp) Really! TINA And from what I hear, he might have to close the club. GENEVIEVE Why? Whats up? TINA A lot of our good customers were around when them raids was on. A lot of them havent come back. Word travels yknow. Some of the older girls arent getting paid but hes still taking on these really young dancers...cheap. GENEVIEVE He just cant help himself. TINA You wouldnt believe it? One of em rocks up in a bloody school uniform. Genevieve winces. Tina (CONTD) I've heard he's opening this other joint down the east end...a big flash one. Genevieve picks up the Kahlua and checks the level. GENEVIEVE Thatll be right. Always big ideas when hes looking wobbly. FADE TO BLACK. INT. Lounge room. Mr Bellows is reading a magazine. Loud squeals and laughter from the kitchen cause him irritation. He gets up to investigate. Int. Kitchen. He opens the door to find the inebriated pair singing and dancing suggestively on the table. They break into squeals of laughter. He hurriedly shuts the door. Int. Lounge room. Mr. Bellows sits ashen faced in his chair. The kitchen door suddenly flings open and the two girls emerge, jiggling their bare breasts and singing. He leaps out of the chair. MR BELLOWS No! Stop it! Stop it! The girls sidle up and taunt him. Sheer terror envelops him. He backs away. MR BELLOWS Youre evil, you, both you...trollops. TINA (stumbling about) Whos he calling a trollop? Genevieve grips him around the waist. GENEVIEVE You wanna a good time, honey? Theyre pushing him in to uncharted territory. MR BELLOWS. (to Genevieve) Get her out of my house! Out...Get out... Tina storms out of the lounge. Genevieve chases after her. Mr BELLOWS Youre disgusting...both of you. INt. KITCHEN. night. They hurriedly put their tops back on. Tina grabs her bag and stomps out of the room. Genevieve follows. Int. HALLWAY. TINa Im telling you. Hes dangerous, Gen. Get out while you can. Genevieve stays silent. She hurriedly escorts Tina down the passage. TINA (CONTD) You dont need any more violence in your life. Dont forget, you can always stay with me. Genevieve leads her out of the front door. 0002000008160001226F810,GENEVIEVE Be careful. INT. LOUNGE ROOM. She enters to find Mr Bellows, clearly agitated, standing rigid. She moves in for the attack. GENEVIEVE (slurred) Youve got no right to shout at my friends...or me for that matter. He remains silent. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) It was only a bit of fun. Still silence. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Id forgotten what fun was. She abruptly turns away before swinging back round again. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Anyway, whats wrong with the female body? Its a beautiful thing. Mr BELLOWS Dont be so vulgar! GENEVIEVE Jesus! Lighten up for Christ sake. Mr BELLOWS Trollop! She reels back before moving threateningly towards him, waving a finger. GENEVIEVE If you say that once more...you wanna repeat that? He stands his ground. She becomes hysterical. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Cmon, say it again...say it to my face...go on, say it...say it, I said...say it! Reeling back he still remains silent. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) You cant, can you? (cynically) Whats wrong, did your mother bath you in your pyjamas? Hes stung. Mr BELLOWS Thats enough, Genevieve. I want you to pack your things and leave my ha..house. Shes momentarily taken aback before quickly gathering herself. GENEVIEVE Oh! (snapping her fingers) Just like that, eh? She twists and turns. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) And where am I supposed to find somewhere...and the money to..? Mr BELLOWS Ill see to that. GENEVIEVE I don't need your help. I can look after myself, thank you very much. So stick your money where it fits. I..Ill be bloody glad to get out of this..this stuffy old shit hole. Mr BELLOWS I want you to leave by the end of the week. GENEVIEVE What makes you think I want to stay that long? She childishly stomps off out of the room and slams the door behind her. He remains solemn. Almost immediately the door bursts open again and she marches towards him. Distressed, she bumbles. GENEVIEVE Dont you ever talk to..say names like what you said, ever, ever again...you understand? He stares ahead, ashen faced. She stands eyeballing him before again turning and slamming the door. 00020000079E00012A7F798,FaDE TO BLACK. Ext. genevieves bedroom window. day. Genevieve sobs as she looks out at the garden. She hears the front door slam. Int. GENEVIEVES BEDROOM. An old brown suitcase, full to brimming, lies open on the bed. Genevieve closes it. EXT. outside Mr bellows house. Day. Mr Bellows, carrying his leather case, closes his gate and crosses the road. Head down, he plods along the street. In the distance ahead of him and turning into his street is the black HSV. Ext. Mr bellows street. Day. The car passes and draws up the driveway of the young Porsche drivers house. Mickey and the goons step out of the car. Mr Bellows ambles past. All parties blissfully unaware. Ext. Porsche drivers house. Day. Mickey and the goons stride past the Porsche to the Porsche drivers front door. The three stand in line. Mickey thumps on the door. The man appears in jeans and tee-shirt. Porsche driver Yes? All eyes simultaneously drop down to the Porsche drivers crotch. With one solid punch, Mickey flattens him. The three step over the comatose man and push through the door. EXT. Mr bellows front gate. Day. A melancholy Genevieve pulls the gate shut. She picks up the suitcase and struggles down the road. Ext. outside Porsche drivers HOUSE. DAY. The goons followed by Mickey, step over the dazed man. Mickey looks down. MICKEY Dont get up for us... The dazed and confused man doesnt respond. The three march to the car. MICKEY How did you manage to stuff that up? They get in the car and roar away. MICKEY (O.S.) I may as well hire a team of chimps. Ext. bus stop. Day. Genevieve stands alone by a bus shelter. A screech of tyres. She turns to see the HSV hurling around a corner towards her. She picks up the case and runs. Joey leaps out, followed by Mickey and Dwayne. Joey grabs her. She drops the case and screams. Ext. Mr BELLOWS driveway. DAY. Mr Bellows clutching his brown bag, meanders up the driveway. He looks solemn. 0002000008BE000132178B8,He opens the front door. Int. hALLWAY. He opens Genevieves bedroom door and closes it again. He hears faint sobbing. INT. bathroom. Pushing the bathroom door open, he finds a bruised and trembling Genevieve huddled on the floor. Flustered, he shuffles from side to side, stammering. MR BELLOWS Oh..Oh..shall I get an ambulance? In a flap, he soaks a face washer. GENEVIEVE (a bit short) No..no..Ill be okay. He tries to dab her face. She winces. MR BELLOWS You cant stay on that cold floor. Youll get hemorrhoids. With his help, she manages to drag herself up. Int. GENEVIEVE'S BEDROOM. EVENING. Genevieve is in bed, her face bruised. Mr Bellows timorously appears at the doorway carrying a tray of tea and cake. She smiles a sad smile. GENEVIEVE Thats nice of you. She props herself up with a couple of pillows. He places the tray on her lap. mr BELLOWS I really think we ought to call the police? GENEVIEVE (anxiously) No, no, no. They wont help. Mr BELLOWS Ive a good mind to teach those hooligans a lesson. She squeezes a smile. Mr BELLOWS Would you like a hot water bottle? GENEVIEVE God, you sound just like my Grandmother. She beckons him to sit on the bed. Theres a long uncomfortable silence. Mr BELLOWS You had better stay. Its safe here. She smiles back a little awkwardly. He looks down unabashed. MR BELLOWS (looking up) My father liked music. GENEVIEVE You dont talk about your family. Has he been gone long? MR BELLOWS He died when I was five. GENEVIEVE He wouldnt have been that old? What happened? MR BELLOWS He crashed his Humber. Genevieve gasps, attempts to say something but finds herself mute. She desperately tries to get off the subject. GENEVIEVE Tell me more. What about your mother? What was it like with her? Mr Bellows withdraws into melancholy. INT. kitchen. Its sometime in the 1950s. The kitchen is almost unchanged. Mr BELLOWS (V.O.) It was peaceful. The YOUNG LANGDON is cowering in a corner while his crazed, out of control MOTHER, with a belt in one hand and waving a 45rpm record in the other, whips him furiously. He wriggles and squirms, desperate to avoid the thrashing. MOTHER When I say Neil Sedaka, I don't mean Elvis Presley. Now, you can take it straight back. 00020000067600013ACF670,Int. GENEVIEVE'S ROOM. EVENING. GENEVIEVE (superciliously) Yeah. I thought it must have been peaceful. She waits for a reaction. He considers the matter and smirks. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) I could tell by that photo of your mother on the sideboard. She looks more like Beulah's ugly sister. She cringes at her outspokenness, then surprised to witness a spasm of emotion as his face creases and his body starts to shake. They both explode into nervous, uncontrollable laughter. She clutches her waist. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Oh, my ribs! EXT. Mr BELLOWS GARDEN. late afternoon. Genevieve is lying on an old wicker, chaise lounge and reading the newspaper, the bruises on her face are beginning to fade. Her attention is caught by an advertisement for a harpsichord recital. Jittering with excitement, she hops up and heads towards the back door just as Mr Bellows appears with two glasses on a tray. Mr BEllows Cordial? GENEVIEVE (ignoring him) Listen to me. Theres a concert on tonight and we are going. A harpsichord recital. His eyes widen. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Scarlatti, Bach you name it. Get your skates on. Mr BELLOWS It..its Wednesday. Yorkshire pudding! She shoots inside leaving him holding the tray, statue fashion. GENEVIEVE (O.S.) Forget Yorkshire pudding. Start worrying about what Im gonna wear. MR BELLOWS (muttering) Yorkshire pudding...eighty minutes. INT. town hall foyer. Night. Mr Bellows, in his regular attire, except for a now grey, flat hat accompanies a fantastically, inappropriately dressed Genevieve, in a clinging, short, red dress and heels. Heads turn as they weave there way to the auditorium. INT. concert hall. NIGHT. 000200000A9E0001413FA98,The closing moments of the harpsichord recital. The audience applaud before standing up to leave. Mr Bellows remains seated and staring ahead in reverence. Genevieve turns to him with a knowing, victorious smile. EXT. outside concert hall. night. rain. The pair follow the small crowd out to the street. Genevieve unfolds her umbrella as Mr Bellows starts to walk off. She gives chase and hooking his arm, yanks him to her side. The couple shuffle awkwardly up the street. INT. CAR. TRAvelling. GENEVIEVE It was fantastic but...I felt uneasy somehow. I cant really explain. It just felt like...you know...that couldve been me up there. He glances sideways at her outfit and conjures up an image. Mr BELLOWS You should practice. GENEVIEVE With what? Mr BELLOWS We could get one. A harpsichord. GENEVIEVE (sarcastically) Great idea. Ill keep my eye out for the K-mart catalogues. Mr bELLOWS Can we buy it back from him? GENEVIEVE (a warm smile) I love the we. (seriously) No, I dont want that. You dont owe me anything. Mr BELLOWS It would be nice to have one in the house. GENEVIEVE (suddenly angry) You know, Langdon, there were times when I could barely afford to feed and clothe myself let alone hang on to a harpsichord, but I did. I managed to drag it around with me from one hole to another. Mr BELLOWS I could buy... GENEVIEVE Theres not much about me I feel proud of, but that, I was proud of. (she contemplates) I want my harpsichord. Its very important...and I want that pig to pay. Mr BELLOWS Could I help you? GENEVIEVE (loud and forceful) No. MR BELLOWS Ive got contacts! Genevieve, mouth agape, bursts into laughter. He stares straight ahead. FADE TO BLACK. Ext. Suburban Street. Day. Mr Bellows is walking down the street obviously looking for a particular house. He stops and ponders before walking into a block of drab, graffiti daubed, institutionalised flats. Int. Stairwell of flats. He climbs the littered stairs and walks down a narrow passageway searching for a number. Halfway along, he stops and knocks on a door. Ext. Bernards front door. Day. A stupendously over dressed Bernard in a white suit, panama hat and spats, appears and greets him in a phoney rehearsed manner. BERNARD Langdon! Delighted. Long time no see. Come in, come in. Lovely to see you. FADE TO BLACK. INT. bernards LOUNGE ROOM. A sparsely decorated room with state issue, standard rudimentary furnishings. Bernard and Mr Bellows are sitting at a laminex table. BERNARD I said to 'em. I was born into opulence, therefore I'm suffering proportionally more, so you should provide me with a proportionally better home. Mr Bellows nods in agreement. BERNARD (CONTD) Otherwise its pure discrimination. 00020000098A00014BD7984,mr BELLOWS Have you got to go back? BERNARD No, Langdon, my therapy is complete. Ive now been certified fully cured. Learnt my lesson the hard way. Mr BELLOWS You never want to go back there. BERNARD Never again. Everything from now on will be absolutely foolproof. Mr Bellows looks a bit perturbed. Bernard gets up and circles the table, rubbing his chin. BERNARD This sort of work is best left to a mastermind. Mr BELLOWS Thats why I... BERNARD Langdon, consider it fait accompli...but I will need assistance. Bernard sits down next to him. Mr Bellows reaches into his inside pocket. MR BELLOWS Youll need some money. BERNARD What for? He holds out a thick wad of notes. Mr BELLOWS I want to pay for your troubles. BERNARD I can make my own, Ive... Bernard hungrily eyes the money as it dawns on him the sheer amount of cash Mr Bellows is holding. Bernard (CONTD) Well, a bit of genuine wont go amiss...expenses, like travel costs... Bernard reaches out with one hand and slides out a stack. BERNARD (CONTD) ...phone calls and meals..um..equipment, staff and..ah..re..research... He pauses momentarily before reaching out for more. BERNARD (CONTD) ...and legal! MR BELLOWS Will that be enough? Bernard further hesitates before reaching out again. BERNARD Well, there's fuel. mr BELLOWS Have you got a car? Sheepishly, Bernard withdraws his hand. BERNARD Well..um..no. Look, that..that should cover it. Mr Bellows stands up. MR BELLOWS Thank you Bernard. INT. HALLWAY. Mr Bellows in a heavy brown dressing gown, cord slippers and with a light flat hat is carrying a breakfast tray. He taps on Genevieves bedroom door, waits a moment and tentatively opens it. Int. GENEVIEVES ROOM. He peers around the door at an empty bed and then places the tray on the dressing table and leaves the room. Int. HALLWAY. He heads the opposite way down the passage but then pauses as he hears running water coming from the bathroom. He puts his ear to the door and then slowly turns the knob. With the door now wide open, he is confronted with a naked silhouette through the frosted glass of the shower recess. He steps forward a couple of paces and closes the door behind him. Int. BATHROOM. Oblivious to his presence, Genevieve reaches out of the cubicle for a towel and dries herself down. He stands transfixed. Stepping out, Genevieve looks up and gasps before emitting a shriek, all the while desperately trying to mask her dignity. 0002000005F00001555B5EA,GENEVIEVE What do you..? Out! Im having a shower. He innocuously scrutinises her before realising that his presence is unwelcome. With a groan, he rapidly exits. Int. HALLWAY. Distressed, Mr Bellows hurries down the passage. Genevieve, with a towel, draped immodestly around her, flies out of the bathroom after him. GENEVIEVE Langdon...Langdon...please. She catches up with him as he turns into the lounge room. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) (tugging at his gown) No..no, Its okay, really its okay...you startled me, thats all, really. Int. LoUNGE ROOM. He tries to brush her off but instead she jumps around to face him. His crestfallen look melts her. Her modesty barely concealed, she wraps her arms around his neck and with wet hair, nuzzles into him. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Hold me Langdon. I need you to hold me...please. Settling down a little he hesitates before putting his arms around her but stops short at contact with her bare flesh. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Closer...hold me closer. They remain in a prolonged embrace, his eyes focused directly ahead. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Just love me. One hand is held firmly against her back, the other gently pats air. Without relaxing his hold, he murmurs. Mr BELLOWS Your toast is getting cold. She sighs, gives a resigned smile and squeezes him tight. INT. kitchen. morning. Mr Bellows, with a magazine, sits on a kitchen chair with his feet raised as Genevieve, with Beulahs old mop, swishes around and under the table. GENEVIEVE Arent you going into town today? 00020000069B00015B45695,He looks up from behind his magazine. Mr BELLOWS Not today. GENEVIEVE Why not? Mr BELLOWS He makes fun of me. GENEVIEVE Who does? MR BELLOWS Victor. GENEVIEVE In the shop. Why? What did he say? MR BELLOWS He said hes not going to stock harpsichord music anymore. He says it only attracts riff-raff. GENEVIEVE (giggling) Hes having you on. He looks grim as he considers the matter. Mr BELLOWS He shouldnt say things like that. GENEVIEVE Why do you shop there? MR BELLOWS I only go there. She ponders a little and then feigns seriousness. GENEVIEVE Mr Bellows, my dear, I think its time you taught me everything in this world there is to know about classical music. Should take, what, half an hour? Max? EXT. modern housing estate. Night. A white stretch limousine draws up at the kerb. The rear door opens and Bernard alights in battle fatigues and balaclava. He reaches back in to the car and retrieves a rope attached to a grapple hook and binoculars. He motions to the driver. BERNARD Twenty minutes. The car drives off. He stands facing a head high brick wall. A few metres further down, a gate lies partially open. He swings the grapple hook over the wall and shins up. Ext. mickeys front garden. Night. Bernard zig-zags, military style to an illuminated window. Through binoculars, he cases the room and focuses on Mickey, and a young woman, slumped asleep on a couch in front of the TV. Bernard slips around the side out of sight. Through the window we see Bernard inside, stealthily slipping past Mickey and the woman and through another door. Moments later: The sound of barking and Bernard flies down the path and out the gate with a small white TERRIER in hot pursuit. 000200000668000161DA662,INT. lounge room. Night. Genevieve and Bernard sit at the coffee table. GeNEVIEVE If its not there, then whats he done with it? BERNARD Would he have sold it? GENEVIEVE It wouldnt be easy. Mr Bellows enters the room with a tray. He turns to Bernard. Mr BELLOWS Would you like some blancmange? He places the tray on the table. They both look at the wobbling bowls and nod in appreciation. BERNARD I need to get into his office. GENEVIEVE Its a fortress...no way. BERNARD Always a way, Genevieve. They both reach for a bowl. BERNARD (CONTD) Draw me a map. Ext. Street corner. Morning. Bernard in all denim and sporty Genevieve, stand peering around the corner. Bernard, perspiring, has an LP record tucked under his arm. GENEVIEVE You look sweaty. Have you taken your... The black HSV pulls into a carpark across the road. GENEVIEVE Thats him. Im off. Genevieve scurries across the road to a coffee shop. Bernard stands with his back to the wall. Int. Coffee shop. Morning. Genevieve sits at a window seat with a clear view of Bernard and the corner. A YOUNG WAITER attends the table. Genevieve orders without lifting her head. GENEVIEVE Cappuccino, thank you. The waiter nods. Mickey crosses the road. EXT. STREEt CORNER. MORNING. Bernard starts marching on the spot and suddenly lurches forward. INT. coFFEE SHOP. MORNING. She winces as they collide. Bernard drops the record as he falls to the ground. Ext. stREET CORNER. MORNING. Mickeys hopping on one leg. Bernards foot screws up the record as he attempts to stand up. MICKEY What the fuck...shit...you fucking... BERNARD Why dont you look, you big stupid baboon? 0002000006DC0001683C6D6,In a rage, Mickey hauls him up by the collar, off the ground and throws him against the wall. Int. Coffee shop. Morning. Genevieve shields her eyes. Ext. strEET CORNER. MORNING. Bernard, feet dangling, squeals as Mickey presses his nose to his. MICKEY What did you call me, you greasy little ferret? Bernard struggles to raise enough breath to answer. BERNARD Bloody Ventures. You smashed my Ventures. Mickey in suspended animation, drops Bernard and stares at the crumpled album. BERNARD (CONTD) Live in Albania. Mickey slowly picks up the cover and pores over it. He looks up as if hes just struck gold. MICKEY Where the fuck...how...Ive never heard... BERNARD Ive waited fifteen years to get that. Int. Coffee SHOP. MORNING. Genevieve watches as the two engage in conversation, then sighs and sinks to the table as the waiter arrives with her coffee. Taking her eyes off the window to sugar her coffee she glances over in just in time to see a reluctant Bernard being coerced by Mickey towards the door of the coffee shop. Genevieve leaps out of her seat. GENEVIEVE Shit! In the nick of time, she yells to the waiter as she races towards the kitchen area. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Toilets! The stunned waiter, holding a coffee pot, points to the kitchen before waving his nose across the rim. ext. back door. Coffee shop. morning. The back door flings open and Genevieve appears. She tries to establish her bearings before scooting off down an alley. INT. Coffee SHOP. MORNING. Mickey and Bernard sit down at the same window table. Bernard looks around searchingly. Mickey notices the full cup of coffee. He wiggles his finger in the froth. MICKEY (CONTD) Jesus, its red hot. Bernard, one eye on Mickey, commiserates over his ruined record. 0002000007A400016F1279E,MICKEY (CONTD) Its a fucking tragedy...Anyway, Im Mickey. He reaches across and they shake hands. BERNARD Peck...Charlton Peck. Mickey pushes the cup and saucer towards him. He signals to the waiter. MICKEY (CONTD) One cappuccino. EXT. StrEET CORNER. MORNING. Genevieve peers around a parked truck as Mickey and Bernard, chatting like long lost friends, cross the road to the opposite corner. Mickey stops momentarily to demonstrate rapid air guitar. Bernard, seemingly holding up well, awkwardly mimics him. A car narrowly misses them. They shake hands and part company. EXT. AdJACENT STREET. morning. Bernard, carrying the battered record, scurries across the road to a side lane. EXT. Side lane. Morning. Genevieve waits in the Volkswagen, hood up. Bernard gets in. They roar off. BERNARD (O.S.) Hes a nice guy. GENEVIEVE (O.S.) I was thinking the very same thing when you were halfway up the wall. The car disappears round a corner. EXT. Rhapsodies. Day. Meredith attempts to change a light bulb. In a loose, patterned dress she is balancing on the top rung of a step ladder. Victor, head down, holds the ladder steady. She points to the shroud. MEREDITH Does this look broken to you? Victor reluctantly looks up but immediately drops his head again. VICTOR Its fine. Just hurry. MEREDITH You have a look. VICTOR I cant. MEREDITH Why not? VICTOR I suffer from vertigo. MEREDITH I thought you liked looking down on people. Mr Bellows and Genevieve in her slinky concert dress, enter the shop. Victor turns to Mr Bellows and looks at his watch. VICTOR Good morning Mr Bellows. And its afternoon. You rebel. Victor suddenly realises Mr Bellows is not alone. Genevieve links arms with Mr Bellows and sweetly smiles. MEREDITH Did you enjoy your Snoop Dogg, Mr. Bellows? Hes embarrassed. She pulls him in close. GENEVIEVE Kept me up all night with it, didnt you? You devil. Victor and Meredith chuckle as they give Genevieve the once over. 000200000661000176B065B,Meredith packs the ladder away as Victor takes his place behind the counter. Genevieve and Mr Bellows browse. Genevieve looks up to Victor. GENEVIEVE Langdon said if anybody would stock it, you would. She slinks closer to the counter. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Cherbonowskys third symphony. VICTOR Sorry? GENEVIEVE Cherbonowsky! She eyes him before turning to Mr Bellows. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) I thought you said he knew his music? Mr Bellows looks blank. VICTOR I didnt quite catch the name. Meredith returns to the counter and looks inquisitively at Genevieve. GENEVIEVE Cherbonowsky. Ive got the second and fourth. I just need the third. Have you got it? VICTOR Um, not at the moment. GENEVIEVE Do you normally stock it? VICTOR Ah...yes...not for a while...we always... MEREDITH Check the catalogue. Victor stoops behind the counter. Genevieve offers Meredith a finger to her lips and a fiendish grin. Meredith appears bewildered before breaking out into a suppressed giggle. Victor bobs up with the book and rapidly thumbs through it. VICTOR (under his breath) Chopin...Ch..Chub. She pounds her finger on his book. GENEVIEVE Cherb...Cherb, not Chub. Victor shuts the book and reaches down for another. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Ill leave it with you, Vic. Weve got to go. She sweeps away prettily and takes Mr. Bellows arm. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Let Langdon know when it comes in. Ta. (to Mr. Bellows) Come on. Arm in arm, the pair leave the shop. Victor stands stunned before a realisation sweeps over him. He turns to Meredith whose ready to wet herself. He turns back again, stares at the door and slowly nods his head in defeat. 00020000034F00017D0B349,Ext. City street. day. Genevieve leads Mr Bellows arm in arm, down the busy street. Shes creased up laughing. Mr BELLOWS I dont know that composer. GENEVIEVE Thats the whole idea. Mr BELLOWS He must be a new one. GENEVIEVE Thats because theres no such...never mind. Come on, Ill buy you a latte. He turns to her with a shrug. GENEVIEVE Go on, tell me, youve never heard of latte. She yanks him round the corner, out of sight, into an arcade. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) (O.S.) Italian composer. Wrote for the banjo. Ext. tainted lady. Day. Bernard, in a sober dark suit and briefcase, stands across the road from Mickeys club. He gathers himself and walks across. Int. tainted lady. Orbital, semi-naked dancers, strobe lights and pumping electronic dance music: Bernard, desperate to appear cool, sidesteps between dancers to a staircase. 0002000008420001805483C,Hes approached by DESIREE, an Amazonian, dreadlocked, topless, host. Desiree Hi, Im Desiree, Ill get you a table. BERNARD No, no. I have an appointment to see Mr Rogers. DESIREE Oh! Follow me. She leads up the stairs offering an eyeful to Bernard who rapidly looks down. They reach the landing and she knocks on the door. Muted guitar instrumental music is playing. Mickey (O.S.) Come. Int. Mickeys office. A huge office, adorned with prints and calenders more akin to a motor mechanics lunchroom. A red electric guitar and a pair of drumsticks are hung strategically from a wall. Underneath within reach of the desk is an old fluorescent red, Wurlitzer jukebox. The door flings back. DESIREE This man says hes got an appointment. Bernards eyes covertly dart around the room. MICKEY Charlton! At the opposite end is a full size billiard table. Bernard drops a business card in front of him. Perched clumsily on the corner of Mickeys desk is a silver anniversary boxed LP set of the Ventures: Japanese Tour. Mickey reaches down and reduces the volume on the juke box. BERNARD Great riff. Bernard crouches down and strokes the set lovingly. He stands up and they shake hands. BERNARD I got a mate who learnt Japanese just so he could read the sleeve notes. MICKEY Thank you, Desiree. Behind Mickey sits a harpsichord. A quick glimpse and Bernard reverts his eyes back to the boxed set. Desiree turns and leaves, shutting the door behind her. BERNARD Limited edition eh? MiCKEY Jap import. Individually numbered. Wide eyed, Bernard nods and runs his finger down the spine. Mickey looks on smugly. BERNARD Number seventy two thousand one hundred and forty three. Must be one of the last produced. MICKEY Im telling you, Charlton. I know collectors who would sell their own mothers for that. BERNARD You bet. Bernard pulls out a chair. Mickey peruses his business card. mICKEY Peck. Wasnt that the name of some actor guy? Bernard is about to reply. MICKEY (CONTD) Any relation? BERNARD Im not related to anyone. MICKEY Pecker, that was it, not Peck. Showed it in here one night...on the video... 0002000005650001889055F,(stargazing) On the tip of my tongue... A knock and Dwayne enters. Mickey looks up. Dwayne What do I say to the driver? Hes dumped twelve kegs on us. Bernards all ears. MICKEY That video we had in here...you know...hung like a fucking mule. Had her wedged upside down in that red Mustang. DWAYNE Corvette! MICKEY Corvette, was it? DWAYNE Blue. MICKEY I could have sworn it was a Mustang. Its amazing how much you miss when youre watching a top movie. What was it called? DWAYNE Position Impossible. MICKEY (elated) That was it. Good flick. DWAYNE His boss told him hell only take cash. Mickey glances at Bernard and back to Dwayne. MICKEY Tell him to get stuffed. DWAYNE Were running out of other suppliers. If we lose... MICKEY Tell him. Dwayne grumbles and leaves. Bernard, wide eyed, gets up and ambles his way over to the juke box. BERNARD A work of art. Sculpture...thats what I call it. Mickey bristles. MICKEY American. Got all the good songs. Priceless. Bernard allows his eyes to fix on the billiard table. Mickey, with his ego pumped, asserts his authority. MICKEY Now that, no one gets near. Unless by arrangement. BERNARD And I certainly dont blame you, Michael. However, he panders to Mickeys vanity and sidles over. He gives it a swift, coolly appraising look. Stooping down, he scrutinises the underside. Mickey eyes him with an air of expectancy. 000200000A6200018DEFA5C,BERNARD Cincinnati cedar struts. You only go for the real McCoy, eh? MICKEY I dont fuck around. Bernard strokes the woodwork lovingly, then removes a white handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his prints off. Mickey picks up Bernards business card again as Bernard eyes off the guitar on the wall. Mickey looks up. MICKEY (CONTD) Fender Stratocaster. Exactly the same one that Bob Bogle played on Walk Dont Run. BERNARD Right. MickEY Except his was white. Bernard offers a look of simulated incredulity. Mickey turns back to the card. MICKEY So, Vintage Brokerage. What!? You buy and sell old things? BERNARD I operate on behalf of clients with money to burn, who think nothing of paying phenomenal prices...for the right thing of course. Bernards allows his attention to be drawn to the harpsichord. BERNARD (CONTD) I locate the stuff... Bernard slows his speech. BERNARD (CONTD) ...take a slice of commission. Mickey looks over his shoulder. BERNARD (CONTD) Whats that miniature piano thing? MICKEY Its a harpsichord. BERNARD Whats a harpsichord? MICKEY Its a miniature piano, except smaller. BERNARD Really? Thatd be worth a bit. MICKEY I reckon. Its a heirloom. BERNARD Way out of my field. Have you ever had it professionally valued? Mickey fixes him with an intense stare. EXT. Outside Rhapsodies. Day. In casual jeans, Genevieve bounces towards the record shop and enters. Int. Rhapsodies. DAY. Meredith beams as Genevieve enters the shop. MEREDITH Hi! How have you been? GENEVIEVE Busy, busy...and how are you, Meredith? Victor bobs up from behind a fixture and sheepishly smiles. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Hi, Victor! VICTOR Oh, hello, how are...hows Mr. Bellows? GENEVIEVE Very well, thank you Victor. He said to say hello. She browses through the CDs. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) (eyes down) He says that you owe him a favour. VICTOR Oh! GENEVIEVE He told me to say hed make it worthwhile. She peeks at Victor as he and Meredith turn inquisitively to each other. EXT. OUTSIDE MR BELLOWS HOUSE. sunny day. Closing the gates, Genevieve hops into the convertible with Mr Bellows. She has her red hair tied back with a broad black ribbon. He has one hand holding his hat down. They drive away. EXT. WINDING HILLY ROAD. EARLY AFTERNOON. A glorious sunny day. The convertible sweeps along a scenic road as Genevieves now free-flowing hair, billows in the wind. Mr Bellows has the black ribbon wrapped over the top of his hat and tied in a bow under his chin. Hes not comfortable. Later: EXT. OLD MILL. afternoon. They drive over a small, quaint, wooden bridge and park in front of a large paddle wheel. She lays out a blanket. 000200000B980001984BB92,MR BELLOWS Do we have chairs? GENEVIEVE I couldn't fit them in. Damn, I knew I should have bought that Humber. He looks down and around. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Stop whingeing and sit your bum down. She pulls half a roast chicken out of the picnic basket and waves it at him. He sits down uneasily. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Chicken...straight out of your recipe book. I looked under F. 'Finger lickin good'. She giggles, he doesnt. MR BELLOWS They have scorpions in these places. Theyre..they're attracted to meat. GENEVIEVE Forget it. There's no scorpions left, the tarantulas have eaten them all. He squirms. INT. Staircase TO MICKEYS OFFICE. A prosperous looking, elegant, male figure in a full length black overcoat and carrying a violin case is led by Desiree up the stairs to Mickeys office. Int. mickeys office. day. Dwayne is frustrated with Mickey. DWAYNE No ones gonna supply us now, Mickey, unless its cash up front. MICKEY Listen bonzo. I dont pay you to negotiate politely with these pricks. Rough him up. Dwayne turns and raises his arms in exasperation. MICKEY (CONTD) Alright, tell him to tell his boss, if I dont get my thirty days Ill come and drag his ring inside out and chop it up for washers...got that? Dwayne shakes his head in frustration. MICKEY (CONTD) Sort it. Dwayne turns, sighs, opens the door and is met by Desiree. DESIREE Theres a Mr... She turns to an obscured figure. DESIREE (CONTD) What did you say your name was? A muffled reply. Dwayne pushes past and Desiree leans in. DESIREE (CONTD) Ah...I dunno, Morrie something to see you. Victor, heavily disguised with a pointed beard and gold rim glasses, places the violin case on the desk and extends his hand. VICTOR (in educated tones) Miklos Morricone. A pleasure. FADE TO BLACK. EXT. old mill. Afternoon. Genevieve is lying on her back staring up at the sky. Mr Bellows sits formally upright. gENEVIEVE Do you think Bernards up to it...with his history? Mr BELLOWS (abruptly) Bernards a professional. A silence. GENEVIEVE Have you ever wondered if theres more to life? Mr BELLOWS No. GENEVIEVE Oh, come on. You know, have you ever wondered if youve accomplished everything that you wished for when you were little? Mr BELLOWS I like listening to music. My mother used to say that life is life. GENEVIEVE Mmm. INT. Mickeys OFFICE. MICKEY Its a genuine heirloom. Victor is running his hands delicately over the timber work of the harpsichord, Mickey looks on with an air of expectancy. VICTOR Its difficult to tell. It could be French or...South African. MICKEY Somewhere in that neck of the woods. Its the real McCoy. VICTOR Do you mind if I just run a few tests? Mickey looks perturbed. VICTOR (CONTD) I need to establish its authenticity. MICKEY Yeah, sure. Be my guest. VICTOR Could you pass me my case? Mickey reaches forward, picks up the violin case and passes it to him. Victor places it on the desk near him and opens it. Mickey peers inside. 00020000069C0001A3DD696,Victor removes a conductors baton, raises the lid of the harpsichord and delicately taps the strings. Mickey, curious, looks on with hopeful expectation. Victor places the baton back in the case and removes a violin bow and a set of headphones. He places the headphones over his head and gently places the plug between the strings. He turns his head sideways as he sweeps the bow orchestrally across the strings. Mickey gets up and moves over to him. Victor listens with intense concentration. Victor places the testing equipment back in the case, removes a Decca record cleaning brush and tinkles the keyboard while sweeping the brush across the keys. He turns to an anxious Mickey and nods approvingly. Int. LOUNGE room. Mr Bellows sits in his armchair reading Gramophone. Genevieve is fiddling with a mobile phone. She places a handkerchief over her mouth and speaks in a phoney, animated, Italian accent. GENEVIEVE Mr. Morricones phone. He is currently offshore and wont...will...grrrr... Mr. Bellows looks up inquisitively. She fiddles. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Covering our bums. Hes confused. INT. miCKEYS OFFICE. Day. Mickey and Victor sit at the desk opposite each other. Mickey tops up Victors whiskey glass. VICTOR The last harpsichord I acquired for a collector...and they dont come on the market very often, was a Uruguayan example for ten thousand. Of course... MICKEY But you said this is French. I was thinking at least twen... VICTOR Thirty five tops is around the mark for a French model of this calibre. Mickeys jaw drops but he immediately regains composure. VICTOR Im sorry if the offer disappoints but the price reflects the low demand these treasures... 00020000068C0001AA73686,MICKEY Make it forty and Ill consider it. Victor finishes his drink, picks up the violin case and rises. VICTOR Id need to consult my client. If hes in agreement... They shake hands. VICTOR (CONTD) Ill arrange for him to bring you a cheque personally. MICKEY No cheques. Mickey leads him to the door. MICKEY (CONTD) Cash is my normal mode of transaction. Victor gives a see what I can do nod of the head. EXT. opposite tattoo PARLOUR. Day. Bernard crosses the road and enters a tattoo shop. Int. Tattoo PARLOUR. A man lies semi-naked on a fold up bed. A head to toe, heavily tattooed Neanderthal, attends to him. Neanderthal Bernard! Bernard gestures towards a back room. NEANDERTHAL Come through. INT. BACK room. Tattoo parlour. BERNARD Can you up it to sixty grand!? NEANDERTHAL Once its rolling, mate, makes no difference. Give me three days. BERNARD Beautiful. INT. taTTOO PARLOUR. Bernard exits the room followed by the Neanderthal. He heads towards the main door, turns and raises his hand. BERNARD Appreciate it, Julian. EXT. Outside tattoo parlour. Day. Bernard walks a few paces and then waits by the kerb. Genevieve draws up. Bernard gets in. They drive off. GENEVIEVE (O.S.) Can he do the forty grand? The car disappears around a corner. BERNARD (O.S.) He says thats his limit. Int. Mr BELLOWS FRONT gate. NIGHT. A black limo pulls up. Bernard alights with a soft sports bag. He unzips the bag, reaches in and passes a couple of notes to the driver through the passenger window. BERNARD Keep the change. Int. Kitchen. NIGHT. Mr. Bellows and Genevieve are having dinner. The bell rings. GENEVIEVE Ill get it. EXT. Mr BELLOWS FRONT DOOR. NIGHT. 0002000005B40001B0F95AE,Bernard stands at the front door. Genevieve appears. GENEVIEVE Come in. Have you eaten? Int. kitchen. Night. The pair enter the kitchen. Mr Bellows stands up. BERNARD Langdon! Dont get up for me. Mr BELLOWS Would you like some dinner, Bernard? Bernard places his bag on a chair. BERNARD No, no, thank you. Mr BELLOWS Its shepherds pie. GENEVIEVE Dont offend the cook. BERNARD Talk me in to it. FADE TO BLACK. Int. kITCHEN. NIGHT. Bernards bag is on the table. Genevieve sits alone, slowly sifting through banknotes. Shes becoming increasingly edgy. She picks up a note, compares it with another and leaps up. INT. LOUNGE room. NIGHt. Mr Bellows and Bernard are playing chess. Genevieve pokes her head around the door. GENEVIEVE (sharply) Bernard! Come here a minute? He whispers to Mr Bellows. BERNARD The dragons hissing...Coming! INT. kitchen. NIGHT. Genevieve stands holding two one hundred dollar bills up to the light. Bernard appears looking sheepish. GENEVIEVE Is this supposed to be Dame Nellie Melba? Bernard takes the notes and likewise holds them up to the light. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Looks more like Madonna. He smiles a sort of apology. Int. tainted lady. night. Bernard, dressed for clubbing, appears uncomfortable as he brushes past semi-naked waitresses and gyrating lap top dancers. He meanders for a while before swaggering to the bar and hopping ungainly onto a bar stool. He gestures to a topless Desiree, serving behind the bar. 000200000CC20001B6A7CBC,DESIREE Oh, hello, what can I getcha? BERNARD Ah...hello...um, ah, Martini. Bernard swivels around on his stool and cases the surroundings. He turns back in time to see Desiree plop an olive into a wine glass. DESIREE Nine dollars sixty. Bernard gulps and hands her a note. BERNARD Have one on me, babe. DesIREE Ta, I will. Mickey arrives, snaps his fingers at Desiree and pulls up a stool. MICKEY All organised? Bernard jolts. BERNARD Yep. Just one little detail that needs, um, taking care of. Desiree places a whiskey on the counter. Mickey picks it up. MICKEY And whats that? BERNARD The matter of my commission. MICKEY Not so hasty. Bernards eyes lock on to Mickeys gob-stopper ringed finger. MICKEY (CONTD) What are you looking at? Bernard takes a swig, puts his glass down and raises Mickeys hand. Mickey transfers his glass to his other hand. MICKEY (CONTD) What the fuck? Hey!? Bernard produces a jewellers eyepiece and scrutinises the stone. BERNARD Exquisite! MICKEY Well it didnt come out of a fucking Christmas cracker, did it? Bernard laughs but without conviction. Beads of perspiration break on his brow. Hes self conscious. MICKEY (CONTD) Thats got sentimentality. I got it to celebrate the opening of our jelly wrestling nights. Bernard gives a nod of defeat. BERNARD Pity, I would have forfeited my commis... Mickey rips it off his finger. MICKEY Didnt take off like I hoped. He shoves it in Bernards hand and immediately takes it back again. MICKEY When I get my money. BERNARD Alright! MICKEY Done! They chink glasses and Bernard gestures coolly and turns to walk away. BERNARD (under his breath) You certainly have been. Mickey gestures to the goons. Bernard, now sweating profusely and a little wobbly, passes a corridor. An arm appears and drags him in. A door slams shut. Bernard squeals. Joey (O.S.) Check his jacket. More squawking from Bernard. JOEY (O.S.) (CONTD) His pants...check em...just routine mate. Pull em off. Bernard squeals. BERNARD (O.S.) Ooh. Thats illegal! Int. KITCHEN. NIGHT. A small and a large bundle of bank notes sit on the table. Genevieve is sorting. She counts off a few from the large stack and adds a couple from the small pile. She wraps it and puts it aside. EXT. Mr bellows GARDEN. day. Mr. Bellows, Genevieve and Bernard sit around a wooden table enjoying the tranquil autumn setting of Mr Bellows garden. Genevieve points to a flowering bush. GENEVIEVE I planted that. Im getting pretty good, arent I, Langdon? Mr BELLOWS Genevieves a very good gardener. My mother would say, shes got green fingers. GENEVIEVE Thats the dye off Bernards notes. They chuckle. BERNARD Well, just the hand over to go. Mr BELLOWS Who is going to pay him? Genevieve and Bernard simultaneously turn to him and smile. A realisation. His face drops. GENEVIEVE Youll be fine. You have nothing to worry about. BERNARD Shes right, Langdon. She looks at him sympathetically. He falls broodingly silent. They sit contemplating. Mr Bellows rises rapidly. GENEVIEVE (CONTD) Oi! No running away? Mr BELLOWS I need to go to the lavatory. He scoots off towards the house. INT. volkswagen Travelling. day. Genevieve drives. Mr. Bellows, in his regular attire and a hang dog look, clutches his briefcase. 00020000060D0001C363607,EXT. city street. VOLKSWAGeN TRAVELLING. DAY. Genevieve pulls up at the kerb. Mr Bellows gets out. He walks a few paces and disappears around the corner. She U-turns and drives away. INT. tainted lady. Mr Bellows stands to one side of the arena, overwhelmed by the flashing lights, pumping music and scantily clad girls. He searches around him before heading down a narrow corridor. INT. Corridor. tainted lady. The faint sound of a hand dryer amplifies as a door opens. Mickey emerges, tucking his shirt in and pulling up his fly. Mr. Bellows in a dither twists and turns. MICKEY What are you after? Cmon...out... Mickey, edges him out of the corridor. MICKEY We dont sell flagons here. INT. tainted lady. Joey wanders past and Mickey gestures to him. MICKEY Get him out of here. Mickey heads up the stairs. Joey takes his arm. JOEY Cmon grandpa. Mr BELLOWS I..Ive got a ticket. He waves his entrance pass. Mr BELLOWS Im..huh..here to see Mr Rogers. JOEY Only by appointment. Mr BELLOWS I..I have...one oclock...now Im late. JOEY Why did you buy a ticket? Mr BELLOWS To..to get in the door. Joey pulls out a mobile phone. JOEY (on the phone) Youve got an appointment with this old guy. (pause then a chuckle) Ill send him up. Joey points to the stairs. JOEY (CONTD) Up the top of the stairs. Mr. Bellows walks up the stairs. Mickey greets him on the landing. MICKEY My apologies. Bit dark...you know, the strobes and that. He shows him through the door. INT. MiCKEYS OFFICE. Day. Mickey leads him inside and extends his hand. 000200000A5C0001C96AA56,MICKEY (CONTD) Michael Rogers. They shake. Mr BELLOWS Huh..huh..Humphrey Gable. EXT. tainted lady. DAY. A light furniture van is parked at the side of the road. A sign reads Vintage Removals...Old Fashioned Care. Fingers tap the steering wheel. Alone in the driving seat, with her horn rimmed glasses, sits a scowling Meredith, complete with overalls. MEREDITH This is beyond the pale, Victor. Int. MiCKEYS OFFICE. day. The goons stand either side of the desk. Mickey is removing the last of the bundles of neatly wrapped notes from Mr Bellows battered bag and piling them on his desk. Mr Bellows nervously watches. MICKEY Sixty grand. Mr Bellows eyes widen. Mr BELLOWS Sixty!? MICKEY Im pretty good at sums, eh guys? Mickey unwraps a bundle and peels off a note. He holds it up to the light. His face drops as he turns to Mr Bellows. MICKEY (CONTD) Looks like theyve just come off the press. He drops it on the table and blows his fingers. MICKEY (CONTD) Shit, its still hot. Mr Bellows freezes. Mickey eyeballs him before cackling. MICKEY (CONTD) Just yanking your chain. They all guffaw. Mr Bellows, blood draining, endeavours to join the mirth. Mickey stuffs the notes back in the bag. MICKEY Hes got a truck waiting outside guys. Get it downstairs. The goons manoeuvre the instrument towards the door. Mr. Bellows politely opens the door for them. He turns back to catch Mickey slipping the case under the desk. Mr BELLOWS M..my case. MICKEY Whats that? Mr BELLOWS Can I have my case? Mickey reaches under his desk, peels off a few notes, hops around to Mr Bellows and stuffs it in his top pocket. MICKEY Buy yourself a new one. On me. Mr. Bellows is shattered, but permits himself a grim little smile. Mickey extends his hand. MICKEY Its been a pleasure. Mr Bellows offers a quick nod and heads out of the door. Ext. tainted lady. DAY. Meredith looks on as the goons load the harpsichord in the back of the truck. Mr. Bellows leaves the club. He hesitates as the instrument is ungainly loaded and shuffles off down the road. Meredith closes the rear doors. MEREDITH Thanks guys. The goons gesture as they head inside and Meredith climbs in the cabin. She drives off. Ext. AdJACENT STREET. DAY. Mr Bellows waits at the kerb. The Volkswagen, hood up, pulls in. Mr Bellows gets in. Genevieve U-turns. Ext. tainted lady. DAY. A much larger, plain furniture van, is parked outside Mickeys club. Int. volkswagen. Travelling. Day. They pass Mickeys club and the van. Genevieve turns to Mr Bellows. GENEVIEVE Thats not our van! Whose? Whats going on? His face has the texture of a stewed prune. Mr BELLOWS He kept my case. 00020000065D0001D3C0657,GENEVIEVE I was gonna ask. That van? Mr BELLOWS There was sixty thousand dollars in the case. GENEVIEVE Forty! Mr BELLOWS Sixty. Genevieve is in deep thought. Suddenly. GENEVIEVE Im going to get my hedge pruners and snip off his testicles. Ext. VOLKSWAGeN TRAVELLING. DAY. The car heads off in the distance. GENEVIEVE (O.S.) No, better still, Ill saw them off...slowly. Mr BELLOWS (O.S.) Does it really matter? GENEVIEVE (O.S.) What? His testicles? I doubt it. Mr BELLOWS (O.S.) No, the extra money. GENEVIEVE (O.S.) Spose not. Int. tainted lady. Bernards at the bar. A BAR GIRL approaches him. He points to the spirits. She pours the drink and passes it to him. He passes her a note. She nods her head and hands him his change. He gulps it straight down and immediately leaves. Ext. ADJACENT STREET. telephone box. DAY. Bernard is on the phone. BERNARD Its definitely a dud. I know Ive gotta come in to report it and I will. I just thought Id let you know first before too many get circulated. Good. He hangs up and bounces off down the street. INT. hallway. day. Mr Bellows enters through the front door carrying a string bag. He places his hat on the stand and replaces it with his indoor hat. INT. GENEVIEVES ROOM. day. Genevieve, lying on the bed with a magazine hears his footsteps down the hall. INT. LOUNGE room. day. He enters the lounge room and drops the string bag on the coffee table. His attention is drawn to a large parcel on the sideboard. A note on the parcel reads: Another new thing has entered your life. He carefully unwraps it to reveal a similar but brand new leather case. He wryly smiles. 0002000009BA0001DA179B4,int. GENEVIEVEs room. day. Genevieve smiles. FADE TO BLACK. INT. DRAWING ROOM. EVENING. Genevieve sits at the harpsichord playing a simple piece. In a chair next to her and flipping through a music score, sits music tutor, MISS BEATRICE THREADGOLD. An elderly woman wearing gold rimmed glasses complete with chain and silver-grey hair tied back in a bun. Miss threadgold Youre coming along fine, Genevieve. Your grandmother was right. She would have certainly been proud of you. FADE TO BLACK. INT. DRAWING ROOM. Evening. Genevieve is playing a more complex piece. Miss Threadgold, arms folded, stands back listening. Mr Bellows stands proudly in the doorway. Int. single room. Glenhaven. Guitar music: The Ventures. A paper backed book, clasped by ringed fingers, with the title Diamonds Are The Cats Best Friend, obscuring the face of a hospital gowned Bernard, lying prostrate on a single bed. Displayed above the bed is the Ventures box. Int. Common room. Glenhaven. Mickeys billiard table, dominates the centre of the room. A male and a female attempt to master the game. Butted up against the wall is the juke box. Gowned inmates gingerly finger the selector buttons. FADE TO BLACK. INT. DRAWING ROOM. AFTERNOON. Genevieve, solo, is playing more intricate pieces. Mr Bellows sits close by intently watching. INT. DRAWING ROOM. NIGHT. Mr Bellows stands alongside Genevieve turning the pages of her sheet music. FADE TO BLACK. EXT. Mr Bellows driveway. day. A perfect, cloudless, winters day. Moving across the garden towards the front door, we hear, softly in the distance, a variation on the same harpsichord piece that attracted Genevieve the first night. Reaching the porch, the music can now be heard quite distinctly. EXT. MR bellows FRONT DOOR. DAY. The front door opens of its own accord and we enter. INT. hALLWAY. We move down the hallway towards the drawing room. The door is open. Through the door we now see Genevieve playing the upper keyboard and part of the lower register of the harpsichord. Mr Bellows sits beside her. INT. lounge ROOM. As we move around the room, its now apparent that Mr Bellows is playing part of the lower register in a simple, continuous, rhythmic mode and a look of intense concentration. We move across the room and towards the window, without losing sight of the pair. EXT. outside lounge room window. Day. We see the pair playing furiously through the window. Slowly, we rise upwards as the music continues. The end. 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NeanderthalGENEVIEVE O.S.DesireeDwayne JoeyNoodles AllsTCE (V.O.) (O.S.) (O.C.) (CONT'D) (SUBTITLE) (CONTD)ڿsTTR CUT TO: FADE IN: FADE OUT. FADE TO: DISSOLVE TO: BACK TO: MATCH CUT TO: JUMP CUT TO:FADE TO BLACK.CUT BACK. LOUNGE ROOM.!CUT BACK TO MR BELLOWS HOUSE.BACK TO REALITY CUT TO. ut to:Moments later: Sound over:sTSI;INTEXTI/E MIDDAYCUTTHE FANTASY FLASHBACK BLACK FRONTGOLDIoAFlashback/FANTASy'BACK. LOUNGE ROOM. BATHROOM.BERNARDS UNIT. LOUNGE ROOM.CAR.$ CAR. TRAVELLING. NIGHT. RAINING. CLUB. CONCERT HALL.$ DOOR. MR BELLOWS' HOUSE. MIDDAY.END84GRANDMOTHERS HOUSE. HARPSICHORD ROOM. EARLY MORNING.1-GRANDMOTHERS HOUSE. HARPSICHORD ROOM. EVENING HALLWAY.$ HOUSING TRUST UNIT. LOUNGE ROOM. KITCHEN. LAUNDRY.LOUNGEROOM. LATERLOUNGEROOM. LATER."MR BELLOWS FRONT DOOR. NIGHT.MR BELLOWS GARDENMR BELLOWS LOUNGEROOM MUSEUM."MUSICAL INSTRUMENT STORE. DAY.-)OUTSIDE ANTIQUE AUCTION ROOM. DAY. SUNNY.,(OUTSIDE CONCERT HALL. NIGHT. HEAVY RAIN. RECORDS ROOM.!RHAPSODIES RECORD SHOP. DAY. SCREEN.40STREET OUTSIDE ANTIQUE AUCTION ROOM. DAY. SUNNY.SUPERMARKET CHECKOUT.#SUPERMARKET CHECKOUT. AISLE 10.TALL OFFICE BUILDING.($THROUGH WINDOW OF AUCTION ROOM. DAY.porch outside front door.airport terminal.security checkpoint. plane cabin.sydney airport terminal.2.sydney suburban street overlooking the harbor.#Mr Bellows drawing room. Night.Mr Bellows drawing room.%!Mr Bellows drawing room. Raining.Mr BELLOWS DOORWAY.front door. Mansionfront door. Mansion.hallway outside music room.mansions lounge room.bar. lounge roomlounge room. Bar. outside sydney mansion. Day.%!MR BELLOWS DRAWING ROOM. EVENING.Mr Bellows driveway.Mr Bellows driveway. dayMr Bellows driveway. day.!mR BELLOWS DRAWING ROOM. day.%!outside drawing room window. Day.old mill. Later. Afternoon.FRONT DOOR ALCOVE. room inside Glenhaven. night DINING ROOM.shopping mall.psychiatric hospital.-)psyCHIATRIC HOSPITAL. SECURE COMMON AREA."PAYPHONE. near hospital gates."psYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL car park.TINA'S SMALL BEDROOM.MR BEllows street. hotel room. Clothes shop.Outside mens clothing shop.Harbour-side restaurant.harbourside restaurant. city street. LOUNGEROOM. pORCH.40THE LARGE OFFICE BUILDING. CBD. MANAGERS OFFICE.mr BELLOWS FRONT DOOR. MILL. LATER. LATE AFTERNOON.THE SAME KITCHEN. SAME KITCHEN.LARGE OFFICE BUILDING. day.0,MR BELLOWS' HOUSE. FRONT DOOR. Late morning.outside motel room. night.BATHROOM. Motel.Genevieve opens the door to a small bathroom and looks at herself in the mirror before reaching into her bag and removing a mobile phone.genevieves flat.MR BELLOWS GATES. NIGHT fRONT DOOR.LOUNGEROOM. DAY.outside Mr Bellows house.tight shot. Cassette tape.genevieves bedroom. driveway. Mickeys car.opposite mr bellows house.outside mickEYS CAR. gazebo. garden."SUBURBAN BUS. EARLY AFTERNOON.SUBURBAN BUS. AFTERNOON.+'psychIATRIC HOSPITAL CAR PARK. MORNING.tinaS SMALL BEDROOM.tinaS car. Later.%!outside POrsche mans house. Day.few minutes later.mr bellows gATES.-)HOUSING TRUST UNIT. LOUNGE ROOM. morning.'#MICKEY'S OFFICE. NEXT DAY. MORNING.MICKEY'S OFFICEkitchen. morning.'#ALLEYWAY METAL DOOR. dusk. raining.+'LARGE OFFICE BUILDING. Two weeks later.40louNGE ROOM. EXT. mr BELLOWS FRONT DOOR. night. louNGE ROOM.outside mr BELLOWS gates.%!outside mr BELLOWS gates. NIGHT.INT. mrs bellows kitchen.internet cafe. day.3/UPSTAIRS OFFICE OF the tainted lady STRIP CLUB.%!mickeys club. Private pool room.Outside number 26 storage.%!gENEVIEVES BEDROOM. early hours.)%mr bellows front gates. Early hours. alleyoffice of storage.:6UPSTAIRS OFFICE OF the tainted lady STRIP CLUB. later.Private HOSPITAL room. DAY.'#the tainted lady STRIP CLUB. NIGHT.EXT. CEMETERY. DAY.$ Genevieves car. Night. Raining.($single room inside Glenhaven. night. Motel unit.mickeys club.&"rhapsodies record shop. next Day. POKER ROOM.LARGE OFFICE BUILDING.,(CLASSICAL MUSIC SHOP. Rhapsodies. day.!REAR OF OFFICE BUILDING. day.HI-FI STORE. day.city street. dusk. RAINING.!SCENE OF ACCIDENT. DARK. WET. Park lands.MickeYS OFFICE"psychiatric hospital. MORNING.73tinas Car. later;>:tinas Car. later:concert hall. NIGHT.Foyer. town hall. Night.)%Mickeys CLUB. ONE WEEK LATER. NIGHT.Removal van. Evening.City cafe. Day.Same telephone booth. Day.;7Main entrance. Glenhaven psychiatric hospital. MORNING.old mill. Afternoon.AN OLD MILL. afternoon.city street. early hours.Outside mickeys club. Day.mickeys OFFICE. morning.!mickeys OFFICE.next MORNING. mickeys OFFICEnext MORNING.Mr BELLOWS loungeroom.!outside Mickeys CLUB. NIGHT.outside Mr bellows house.THE MUSIC CONTINUES./+pSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL. garden area. Morning.#main rd. Car travelling. Night.POKER ROOM. LATER.'#mR BELLOWS DRAWING ROOM. AFTERNOON.Common room. Glenhaven.!mickeys front garden. Night."Tatty second storey room. Day.Narrow rickety staircase.TatToo parlour.&"outside ANTIQUE AUCTION ROOM. DAY.)%Through WINDOW OF AUCTION house. DAY.&"BerNARDS UNIT. LOUNGE ROOM. night. muSEUM. day.+'HOUSING TRUST flat. LOUNGE ROOM. Later.$ HOUSING TRUST flat. LOUNGE ROOM.'#outside ANTIQUE AUCTION house. DAY.City street. day.!SyDNEY AIRPORT TERMINAL. day.harbourside street. Day.Staceys lounge room. Opposite mickeys club. Day.Mickeys office.$ music room. Staceys house. Day.STACEYS LOUNGE ROOM. day.sydney Suburban st. day.Hotel ROOM. night.HoteL ROOM. morning.($WINDING HILLY ROAD. EARLY AFTERNOON.62OUTSIDE THE GATES of MR BELLOWS HOUSE. sunny day.!Staircase to mickeys office."HaRBOURSIDE RESTAURANT. night.Outside staceys house.staceys front gate. Day.($sTACEYS FRONT GATE. late afternoon.Mr BELLOWS GARDEN. Day.+'four tonne rental van. Travelling. day.%!fore-court. storage complex. Day.Suburban Street. Day."outside Mr bellows house. Day.&"outside young drivers HOUSE. DAY.Adjacent Street. Day.#new housing development. Night.#mr BELLOWS lounge room. Night.Street corner. Morning.Coffee shop. Morning.back door. Coffee shop.Mickeys club. morning.AdJACENT STREET. morning."MR BELLOWS LOUNGEROOM. Night.mickeys office. day.!opposite tattoo PARLOUR. Day.BACK room. Tattoo parlour. Outside tattoo parlour. Day."Mr BELLOWS FRONT gate. NIGHT.Mr bellows kitchen. Night.Mr BELLOWS kitchen. NIGHT.MickeyS CLUB. night. volkswagon.volkswagon Travelling. day.MicKEYS CLUB. day.volkswagen. Travelling. volkswagen. Travelling. Day.Main st. dusk.Lane. late Afternoon. Lane. Dusk.'#LEAFY SUBURBAN STREET. CLEAR NIGHT.Murky Stairwell.Seafront. rain. night.#Seafront shower block. Morning.stairwell. dark. Mr BELLOWS LOUNGEROOM. day.GENEVIEVES BEDROOM. day.DRAWING ROOM. Evening.DRAWING ROOM. AFTERNOON.Toyota. Morning.)%OUTSIDE MR BELLOWS HOUSE. sunny day.Outside Rhapsodies. Day.Rhapsodies. DAY.#Glenhaven garden area. Morning.#Footpath. Outside motel. Night.&"bus stop. busy road. Late morning.'#Mr BELLOWS STREET. Late afternoon.!Foyer. Large office building.sTSTDAY NIGHT AFTERNOON MORNING EVENING LATER MOMENTS LATER CONTINUOUS THE NEXT DAYA FEW MINUTES LATERNIGHT. Raining.late afternoon. later. NIGht.  early hoursmCRO9INTINT. Scene Heading01119EXTEXT. Scene Heading01128I/EI/E Scene Heading0113@DAY - DAY Scene HeadingAction0114DNIGHT - NIGHT Scene HeadingAction0115HSUNRISE - SUNRISE Scene HeadingAction0116DMAGIC - MAGIC Scene HeadingAction0117GCONT continuing ParentheticalDialogue0118JINTER interrupting ParentheticalDialogue0119$0110GCUTTOCUT TO: Transition Scene Heading1111EFADEINFADE IN:Action Scene Heading1112KFADEOUT FADE OUT. Transition Scene Heading1113IFADETOFADE TO: Transition Scene Heading1114MDISSLV DISSOLVE TO: Transition Scene Heading1115IBACKTOBACK TO: Transition Scene Heading1116PMATCHCUT MATCH CUT TO: Transition Scene Heading1117NJUMPCUT JUMP CUT TO: Transition Scene Heading1118BFBLACKFADE TO BLACK. 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