1. EXT. RIVER. DAY. OVERCAST.
CLOSE UP - A YOUNG WOMAN, WATCHING SOMETHING IN THE DISTANCE.
THIS IS LADY, EARLY TWENTIES. SHE HAS BRIGHT, FOCUSED EYES, WATCHING THE OFFSCREEN ACTION LIKE IT'S AN EQUATION ON A CHALKBOARD.
PULL OUT - THE SHOT WIDENS TO SHOW OTHER PEOPLE AROUND HER. DRESSED AS THE PEASANTS OF A VILLAGE IN 10TH CENTURY SCOTLAND. OR NOT. THE TWO PEOPLE BESIDE LADY ARE HER MOTHER AND HER FRIEND. HER MOTHER IS IN HER FORTIES, DRESSED HUMBLY. HER FRIEND IS LADY'S AGE, DRESSED IN MUCH FINER CLOTHES THAN LADY. IN FACT, LADY AND HER MOTHER ARE CLEARLY POORER THAN THE PEOPLE AROUND THEM. THE PEOPLE AROUND HAVE EXCEEDINGLY CLEAN CLOTHES.
PULL OUT TO WIDE SHOT - A WHOLE CROWD OF VILLAGERS ARE WATCHING FROM THE RIVERBANK AS A WITCH IS DUNKED.
THE CROWD LOOK AWAY AS THE WITCH IS DUNKED. MOTHER AND FRIEND LOOK AWAY, HORRIFIED, DISGUSTED, LADY DOES NOT LOOK AWAY.
FRIEND
I'm glad they caught her. How did they find out she's a witch?
LADY
She didn't smile at the Priest, once. Or maybe she didn't loan sugar to her neighbour, once.
MOTHER
Delivering babies in secret. A husband found out.
LADY
She's not a witch.
FRIEND
How do you know?
LADY
Witches aren't real.
ANOTHER REACTION FROM THE CROWD, WINCES.
FRIEND
Well they'll have proof soon enough, then we won't have to worry.
LADY
Not until you need a baby delivered two months early and the Priest prefers you accompany it to heaven's gates.
MOTHER
(REPRIMANDING)
Daughter.
LADY QUIETENS. ONE LAST SOUND. MOTHER LOOKS DOWN, MOURNFULLY. FRIEND LOOKS AWAY IN FEAR/DISGUST. LADY WATCHES IT HAPPEN. THEY WAIT. NO MORE SOUND. MOTHER LOOKS SAD, FRIEND LOOKS DISAPPOINTED.
FRIEND
Well.
THE CROWD DISPERSES. MOST OF THEM SEEM DISAPPOINTED, BUT NOT BECAUSE AN INNOCENT WOMAN HAS DIED. THE BROTHER EMERGES FROM THE RIVER, SIMILARLY DISAPPOINTED TO NOT HAVE PROVED SHE WAS A WITCH. HE APPROACHES THE FRIEND, LADY, AND MOTHER.
BROTHER
(CALLING TO THE FRIEND)
You shouldn't be talking to them.
MOTHER
(UNDER HER BREATH)
Pig.
HE TAKES HIS MUDDY SHIRT OFF, WIPES HIS HANDS OFF ON IT. THROWS IT TO MOTHER.
BROTHER
I want that washed and returned by tomorrow morning.
HE LOOKS OVER LADY, LEERING. THEN GESTURES TO THE FRIEND.
BROTHER
Come on.
HE LEADS THE FRIEND AWAY.
LADY
He shouldn't speak to you like that.
MOTHER
Did he say something? I just heard this awful shrill dog barking. Come.
MOTHER TAKES LADY'S HANDS
MOTHER
She was good. She didn't deserve this. We remember her. Bless her with the gratitude of the people she helped, and the truth beneath the lies told about her today.
THEY BREAK.
MOTHER
Home now, before they get restless.
THEY WALK HOME, PAST NICE HOUSES, DOWN TO THE SHITTY END OF TOWN.
FADE TO:
2. EXT. VILLAGE. DAY. STREET.
MOTHER
You're quiet.
LADY
I'm thinking.
MOTHER
Good. Think aloud.
LADY
There are a lot of witches in town.
MOTHER
According to some.
LADY
That woman, the midwife; she was helping people, saving them.
MOTHER
She was helping women, saving them from dying in childbirth.
LADY
Does that make her a witch?
MOTHER
They didn't kill her because they thought she's a witch; they killed her because they didn't understand her or what she could do. And because they couldn't understand her they couldn't let her live.
LADY
It must help someone, her being dead, or there being witches. I just can't work out who.
THEY REACH HOME. MOTHER REACTS IN DISGUST. LADY KNEELS. A DEAD CHICKEN HAS BEEN LEFT ON THEIR DOORSTEP. LADY TAKES THE BROTHER'S SHIRT FROM BEFORE AND USES IT TO PICK UP AND WRAP THE CHICKEN. SHE TUCKS IT AWAY.
MOTHER
Daughter.
LADY
Mother.
MOTHER
You'll cause trouble.
LADY
I didn't start the trouble.
MOTHER
Don't start a fight.
LADY STANDS. HER HANDS ARE BLOODY. MOTHER OPENS THE DOOR FOR HER.
MOTHER
Go on, get cleaned up.
CUT TO:
3. INT. WASHERWOMAN'S HOUSE. KITCHEN. SMALL, HUMBLE, SLIGHTLY DIRTY.
LADY WASHES HER HANDS. MOTHER ARRANGES A POT ON THE STOVETOP AND STARTS TO BREW SOMETHING.
LADY
Shouldn't you tell me.
MOTHER
Tell you what?
LADY
About my father.
MOTHER
We've been over this.
LADY
What if something happens, to one of us, what if you never get the chance to tell me.
MOTHER
Don't say such things!
LADY
You said it yourself: they're restless, hunting witches.
MOTHER
We're not witches.
LADY
Neither was she.
MOTHER
You're like a bloodhound, but more ruthless. Besides, you know the story already, about you, how you came to be.
LADY
I don't.
MOTHER
You do! Once upon a time there was a woman who wanted so very much to have a tiny little child, but she did not know where to find one. So she went to an old witch, and told her she had her heart set most ardently upon having a tiny little child, and begged her help finding one for her own.
LADY
Are witches well known for their child-finding abilities?
MOTHER
(SHUSHING HER, CONTINUES)
The witch told her this was easy enough, and gave her a grain of barley, though it wasn't the barley the farmers sew in their fields or throw to their chickens to scrap on. She told her to put it in a flower pot, and she would see what she shall see. The woman thanked her, over and over, and gave the witch twelve pennies-
LADY
A fine price for a child of her own!
MOTHER
(CONTINUING)
Gave her twelve pennies, and planted the barley seed soon as she got home. It quickly grew into a fine large flower. But the petals were folded tight, as though it were still a bud. It was such a pretty flower, and the woman loved it so, she kissed its lovely petals, and as she kissed it the flower burst open! It was a tulip, fair and rosy like cheeks blushing, and on the green cushion in the middle of it sat a tiny girl. She was dainty and fair to see, but she was no taller than your thumb. So she was called Thumbelina.
LADY
So my name is Thumbelina?
MOTHER
It might be.
LADY
I'm hardly the size of your thumb.
MOTHER
Maybe you grew.
LADY
Or you shrank.
MOTHER POURS THEM TEA FROM THE POT.
LADY
It's a good story mother, but it's not mine.
MOTHER
Why couldn't it be, have any story you like.
LADY
"And Thumbelina grew up and washed the dirty laundry with her mother till they both dropped dead."
MOTHER
Daughter.
LADY
Oh no, better ending: "washed laundry with her mother till they were carted away as witches."
MOTHER
Don't make light. You're better than that.
LADY TAKES THE POT AND STARTS WASHING UP
LADY
Sorry.
MOTHER
What story would you like to have?
LADY THINKS
MOTHER
I can see it behind your eyes. Tell me.
LADY
It's silly.
MOTHER
And I'm your mother: you can tell me silly things.
LADY
Once a woman looked up at the night sky. Spread out across the sky was a sea of stars, like sugar on a blanket of pitch. She met three sister stars, holding hands across the sky. They smiled and laughed with her, and as the night wore on the woman realised they were pointing to the horizon, where the woman saw there hung the brightest star in the sky. The more she looked at the light from this star the dimmer the others seemed. She longed to hold the star, to have it for her own, and her longing stretched out across the sky and cut the thread holding the star in place. The star fell, and as it did the woman saw it glowed so bright because it was the biggest star of all, fiery and crackling with heat. It fell at her feet and she reached into its molten core and pulled it out to hold it in her arms.
MOTHER
My little star.
LADY
It's silly, and vain.
MOTHER
It's right. Righter than my story. You're destined for great things.
LADY STARTS PUTTING AWAY THE POT, OTHER THINGS HER MOTHER HAS LEFT AROUND THE HOUSE
MOTHER
You don't believe me. But I know you, I see you.
KISSES HER ON THE HEAD.
MOTHER
Thank you for the story. Don't stay up too late.
MOTHER GOES OUT, PICKING UP A BASKET OF LAUNDRY FOR WASHING. LADY PICKS UP THE CUP WITH HER MOTHER'S TEA, CLEANS IT. LOOKS OUT THE KITCHEN WINDOW.
CUT TO:
CONT. EXT. WASHERWOMEN'S.
THE MOTHER CARRIES THE BASKET OF WASHING OUT TO WASH. SHE KNEELS BY A TUB. GLANCES AROUND. PULLS OUT A POPPET OR SOMETHING WITCHY. CLASPS HER HANDS TOGETHER. APPEARS TO PRAY, EYES CLOSED, WHISPERING.
FADE TO:
4. INT. NEW DAY. HOME OF THE FRIEND'S FAMILY. MUCH NICER THAN LADY AND MOTHER'S.
THE FRIEND SITS AND STITCHES. LADY MOPS THE FLOOR. SHE IS THEIR MAID.
FRIEND
She's your mother, she has to say that.
LADY
Does your mother say those things to you?
FRIEND
Sure, or similar.
LADY
What does she say?
FRIEND
She doesn't say much, often, but when she does it's always kind. She tells me I look pretty. But I don't remember the context. I think she just says it, you know, how mothers do.
LADY
My mother doesn't say I'm beautiful.
FRIEND
My mother doesn't say I'm destined for greatness.
LADY FINISHES MOPPING, SITS DOWN OPPOSITE THE FRIEND.
FRIEND
Which would you rather, beauty or brilliance?
LADY
Can't I have both?
FRIEND
That's not the point, you have to choose.
LADY
Which would you choose?
FRIEND
No, I asked you.
LADY
Would you rather eat nothing but bread for every meal or eat whatever you want but it has no taste?
FRIEND
You can't change the subject.
LADY
Mine's more interesting than yours.
FRIEND
Whatever I want but no taste.
LADY
Really?
FRIEND
I'd rather no taste than just the taste of bread, I'd get sick of the taste of bread. Now mine, beauty or/
THE BROTHER COMES IN, LEANS IN THE DOORWAY WATCHING THEM. LADY AND HER FRIEND GO QUIET.
BROTHER
What are you two doing?
FRIEND
Talking.
BROTHER
(TO LADY)
Finished your work then?
LADY DOESN'T ANSWER. SHE DOESN'T LOOK AT HIM.
FRIEND
She's angry at you.
BROTHER
For what?
FRIEND
The witch, the other day.
BROTHER
You're not upset about that old witch-
LADY
-She's not a witch. Isn't that what you proved?
BEAT.
BROTHER
Might as well have been.
LADY
I don't believe in witches.
BROTHER
You'd say that, wouldn't you. If you were a witch.
BEAT.
BROTHER
Joking.
LADY
I have something for you.
LADY GETS UP FROM HER SEAT, GOES OVER TO HER BASKET. SHE PULLS OUT THE WRAPPED PARCEL.
LADY
You must've forgotten it. Thought I'd return it, with your clean shirt, on behalf of my mother and I.
SHE GOES OVER TO THE BROTHER AND HANDS IT TO HIM. BLOOD AND FEATHERS SPILL ONTO HIS HANDS.
BROTHER
Eugh, what is this?
LADY
It's yours, you left it on my doorstep.
BROTHER
Witch.
HE STORMS OFF, BLOODY HANDS.
FRIEND
You shouldn't have done that.
LADY
He did it first. Left that on our door like a warning.
FRIEND
He wouldn't do that, he likes you.
LADY
He doesn't.
FRIEND
He does. He asks about you, about what you're doing.
LADY
What do you tell him?
FRIEND
That you read.
LADY
Do you tell him what I'm reading?
FRIEND
No, it's better if he doesn't know. He gets... jealous. Of anyone he thinks Father... Anyway. It's not just you, he doesn't think women should read the kinds of books you borrow from Father.
LADY
Does he really think I'm a witch?
NO ANSWER
LADY
Do you?
FRIEND
No, of course not. You're my friend.
BEAT.
FRIEND
Would you rather a rich husband or a smart husband?
LADY GETS UP, STARTS FOLDING CLEAN CLOTHES FROM A BASKET.
LADY
Which is your brother?
FRIEND
Come on.
LADY
He must be rich because he isn't very smart.
FRIEND
Answer the question, really.
LADY
I don't want a husband.
FRIEND
Don't you want to be loved?
LADY
I am loved.
FRIEND
Not by your mother, loved by a man, your husband.
SHE THINKS.
LADY
I don't suppose I knew I should want that. I've always felt loved, by my mother. I'm everything she ever wanted, but she's not that to me, so... I don't know. I don't want a husband though.
FRIEND
Not yet, maybe.
LADY
What do you want?
FRIEND
I want to love someone, to be loved.
LADY
Do you want children?
FRIEND
Oh yes, a family. A little boy, and a little girl, he to look after her, just as I had. Do you?
LADY
I don't know.
FRIEND
Won't you have any?
LADY
It'd be cruel to have a child for the sake of it.
FRIEND
Wouldn't you love your child if you had one though?
LADY
My mother tells me all the time how certain she was that she wanted to be a mother, to have a baby, and she was so young when she first knew. I don't feel like that.
FRIEND
Maybe when you find your husband, you'll know then. That's what my mother says: "for the right man you'd change your mind, for the right man."
LADY
The right man.
FRIEND
I'm engaged. Well, betrothed, I have been for years, my father arranged it.
LADY
An arranged marriage? Do you know him?
FRIEND
Our fathers exchanged letters over the years, I've tried to write him a few times but he hasn't replied.
LADY
So you don't know him.
FRIEND
Not yet.
LADY
And you're happy to marry him?
FRIEND
If my father thinks he's good for me.
LADY
Why's he done that, arranged a marriage for you?
FRIEND
He's making sure I'm safe, taken care of.
LADY
But he doesn't know that; he could be violent, or cruel, he could be anyone.
FRIEND
Well, he's someone at least.
A MOMENT. LADY KEEPS FOLDING CLOTHES. THE MAIDEN OBSERVES A BOOK WITH LADY'S THINGS. PICKS IT UP.
FRIEND
What are you reading today?
LADY
Fairytales.
FRIEND
Will you read me one?
LADY
I've got to finish my work.
FRIEND
Oh just one, really, I won't tell father.
LADY THINKS, RESISTS, THERE'S WORK TO BE DONE. RELENTS. FINISHES FOLDING THE THING SHE'S HOLDING THEN GOES OVER TO THE FRIEND AND TAKES THE BOOK FROM HER.
LADY
What kind do you like?
FRIEND
I like stories about princesses. And love. Princesses who find love, who fall in love, anything like that.
LADY FLICKS THROUGH THE BOOK, LOOSELY. SHE SEEMS TO BE LOOKING FOR ONE BUT ISN'T SATISFIED WITH THE OPTIONS. STOPS ON A PAGE, APPEARS TO READ:
LADY
Once there was a girl who lived in the bog
She'd lived there so long her skin had turned green and her hair to weeds.
And it was her bog, so she was the princess of the bog.
One day a young man came riding past and saw the bog:
He saw land around it and trees growing tall beside it,
and a freshwater stream that flowed through it,
And he saw the girl who lived in the bog, with her green skin and weedy hair,
And he thought he might marry this girl,
So he could farm the land, cut down the trees, and drain the bog to build a fine castle.
So he came down to the water, and said to the girl:
"Fair creature, might you honour me with your acquaintance?"
And the princess of the bog offered him her hand the same way maidens do for kissing,
And the man saw her hand, slimy with muck, with little snails under her fingernails and slugs wrapped around her knuckles like rings,
And he took her hand anyway
And as he raised her hand to his mouth to kiss it and win her affections,
She gripped his hand tightly and pulled him into the bog,
Until he drowned.
FRIEND
That's not much of a love story!
LADY
You said it could be a story about love.
FRIEND
Same thing! She drowned him? Why?
LADY
When he asked to make her acquaintance she saw in his eyes what he had planned for her bog, the bog she loved so dearly, so she drowned him to keep it safe. Like she'd done to all the men who'd tried to take her bog from her.
FRIEND
Where do you find these stories?
LADY
In books.
FRIEND
Not any of my father's books.
LADY
You haven't read them all.
LADY PUTS THE BOOK BACK WITH HER THINGS AND GOES BACK TO HER FOLDING. THE FRIEND WATCHES FOR A MOMENT, THEN GETS UP AND FETCHES A SHEET, HIDDEN SOMEWHERE DISCRETE.
FRIEND
I was wondering, if you could...
SHE APPROACHES LADY, BUT IS HESITANT TO GIVE OVER THE SHEET.
FRIEND
I'm so embarrassed.
LADY SEES IT'S BLOODSTAINED.
LADY
You wouldn't be the first person to bleed onto your sheets.
FRIEND
Could you wash it, please, and don't tell father.
LADY
Why not?
FRIEND
He's so strict about our things and treating them well. Please, I'll pay you myself, just don't tell him.
LADY
It's fine, you don't have to pay me, I'll do it as a favour, any time.
FRIEND
You'll wash it for me?
LADY
Till the water runs clear.
FRIEND
Thank you. You're a good friend.
LADY
It's my job.
FADE TO:
5. INT. SAME HOUSE. A FEW HOURS LATER, SUN LOW IN THE SKY.
LADY FINISHES WORKING, FOLDING, MOPPING, BEDS ALL MADE. SHE GOES TO HER BASKET AND RETRIEVES THE BOOK.
CUT TO:
INT. SAME HOUSE. LADY CLIMBING THE STAIRS. LET'S REALLY SEE HOW MUCH NICER THIS PLACE IS (A SECOND STORY? STONE STAIRS? LUXURY)
LADY NOTICING THE FURNISHINGS, THE GRANDEUR. TAKING IN THE PORTRAITS.
CUT TO:
INT. SAME HOUSE. SECOND FLOOR LANDING. DOOR TO THE STUDY.
LADY KNOCKS ON THE DOOR TO THE STUDY.
FATHER
(V/O FROM WITHIN THE STUDY)
Come in.
LADY OPENS THE DOOR.
CUT TO:
INT. SAME HOUSE. THE FATHER'S STUDY. WELL LIT, BOOKSHELVES COVERING EVERY WALL.
THE FATHER SITS AT HIS DESK, WORKING. HE LOOKS UP AS LADY COMES IN.
FATHER
Done with your chores?
LADY
With my work? Yes, sir.
FATHER
Then I suppose you're here for another?
LADY
Returning this one.
FATHER
Which one was that?
LADY
History of the clans.
FATHER
Anything of note?
LADY
Much.
FATHER
You've nothing more to say?
LADY
No, sir.
FATHER
You've read the books, you needn't pretend you didn't understand them.
LADY
I didn't know our village was once part of another county.
FATHER
My grandfather fought in the war that won us this village.
LADY
Or lost it.
FATHER
It was winning to him.
LADY
And losing to the people who lived here.
FATHER
Don't think too hard about it, you'll confuse yourself.
LADY
Of course.
SHE WATCHES HIM.
LADY
What are you working on?
FATHER
Just some papers, not as interesting as your histories.
LADY
Records?
FATHER
Is that how you'd describe my work? Records?
LADY/FATHER
I wouldn't/You wouldn't know. No. I'm drafting a dowry, for my daughter.
LADY
She mentioned she's betrothed. Shall I congratulate you?
FATHER
She mentioned it? To you?
LADY DOESN'T REPLY. REALISES THIS WAS IN CONFIDENCE.
FATHER
You might congratulate her intended. She comes with a generous dowry. Land, my finest sheep, a small fortune in her mother's jewellery, and furnishings for a house they shall occupy together.
LADY
A house the groom is providing?
FATHER
His father is providing. It's only right given the taking on her custody, that they be well supplied for her care.
LADY
She's a woman, what care might she need at her age?
FATHER
You've not raised a child, have you. Nor run an estate.
LADY
No, sir.
HE SETS DOWN HIS PEN, GESTURES HER OVER. SHE COMES TO STAND IN FRONT OF THE DESK.
FATHER
In marriage my daughter's future is secured, the title she gains will give her a life of luxury and wealth. But a woman is no prize: she cannot go to war, cannot win titles or lands. She cannot fight, or negotiate, she cannot attend court or keep records. She can sew, run a house of servants, such as yourself. The best she can do for her husband is bear his children, bear a son as soon as possible: that makes her useful to him, continuing his line, his name. But she cannot protect herself or her family. And so her dowry, the dowry I give her, will be her protection. If her husband dies she has my protection. She has a home, furnished to keep her comfortable. She has her mother's jewellery to show her status. She has livestock to keep her staff employed, to keep money from drying up. She is safe, because of the dowry I provide. I know how to run my family. Best you don't presume to know better, girl.
LADY
Of course.
LADY LINGERS.
FATHER
You're going to ask me for another book.
LADY
Yes, sir.
FATHER
And if I were to tell you to leave, that you've over-stepped and won't touch another of my books?
LADY
I would leave the bill for mine and my mother's services for you to file with your records, and I'd go sir.
A PAUSE.
FATHER
Which one?
LADY
Any.
HE NODS, PICKS UP HIS PEN. LADY APPROACHES THE BOOKSHELVES, SCANS, FINDS A BOOK, TAKES IT OUT. SHE READS THE FRONT MATTER.
FATHER
What have you chosen?
LADY
Weaponry, a history of war weaponry specifically.
FATHER
What do you think you shall gain, reading something like that?
LADY
I think I shall gain a knowledge of weapons used in war, sir.
FATHER
To what end?
LADY THINKS. SHOULD SHE TELL HIM?
LADY
I am... considering university, sir.
FATHER
You? What good will that do you?
LADY
shouldn't I seek to better myself?
FATHER
With what money?
LADY
I understand there's a scholarship, sir. One student may receive their courses at no fee until such a time as their profession allows them to pay for it.
FATHER
How do you know that?
LADY
I read, sir.
FATHER
Well. You may have to fight my son for that.
LADY/FATHER
For the scholarship? But why would he need/Is that all?
LADY BITES HER TONGUE. NODS. GOES TO LEAVE.
FATHER
What do you say?
A BEAT.
LADY
Thank you. Sir
FATHER
I expect that book back in the condition it's in now.
LADY
Yes, sir.
FATHER
Go.
CUT TO:
INT. SAME HOUSE. SECOND FLOOR LANDING. DOOR TO THE STUDY.
LADY CLUTCHES THE BOOK TO HER CHEST. BREATHES OUT. DESCENDS THE STAIRS.
CUT TO:
CONT. INT. SAME HOUSE. GROUND FLOOR.
LADY GOES PAST. THE BROTHER WATCHES HER WITH WOLFISH EYES.
FADE TO:
EXT. OUTSIDE THE HOUSE.
LADY IN HER COAT, WITH HER BASKET. SHE STARTS DOWN THE ROAD. AT THE GATE A FEW BOYS ARE WAITING; FRIENDS OF THE BROTHERS.
BOY2 WOLF WHISTLES
LADY
Yeah real original
BOY2
Aw come on honey, thought girls liked knowing when they've got a boy rapt
LADY
Don't you have anything better to do than masturbate each other?
BROTHER
(FROM OFFSCREEN)
what, are you offering?
THE BROTHER COMES DOWN THE PATH BEHIND HER. HIS FRIENDS SNIGGER, GET UP FROM THEIR LAZING POSITION. START TO SURROUND HER.
LADY
It'll cost extra
BOY2
Oh go on, what's the rate?
LADY
More than you can afford
THE BOYS LAUGH.
BOY3
I doubt that.
LADY
I hear you need a scholarship to study.
THEY STOP.
BROTHER
Who told you that?
LADY
So it's true
BROTHER
Yeah. What's it matter to you.
LADY
Just thought I'd save you the embarrassment of me beating you for it
BOY2
You?!
BOY3 LAUGHS, BROTHER ISN'T FINDING IT SO FUNNY JUST YET.
BOY3
Don't think they let animals into the university
BOY2
Yeah no places for stupid little bitches
BROTHER
They have rules, you know, about hygiene in places like that.
LADY
Oh, that's such a shame for you. Did mummy not teach you to wash down there? Or did she try but couldn't stand you getting a hard on every time she touched you?
BROTHER
Don't you fucking dare say that about my mother
HE GETS UP CLOSE TO HER. LIVID. THE OTHERS PRESS IN CLOSER TOO.
BROTHER
I hate you, you know.
LADY
I hear you like me.
BROTHER
What. No.
LADY
Though leaving threats is an odd way of showing it.
BROTHER
I don't like you. You're nothing, you make me sick.
HE CROWDS HER IN.
LADY
Oh, I see. You do like me, and you get off on this, don't you?
BROTHER
On what?
HE PUSHES CLOSER. BOY2 AND 3 PUSH CLOSER TOO, HANDS ON HER SHOULDERS, KEEPING HER IN PLACE.
LADY
Get away from me
BROTHER
Tell me, what do I get off on?
LADY
Hurting women, scaring them.
BOY3
Are you scared of him?
LADY
No
BOY2 GROPES HER BREAST. SHE TRIES TO PULL AWAY BUT BOY3 HOLDS HER IN PLACE.
BOY3
I think you are.
LADY
Hey!
BOY2
What?
LADY
Stop, stop touching me.
BOY2
I'm not touching you
LADY/BOY2
You are, you're/You say I'm touching you, I say I'm not.
BROTHER
Why would he ever touch you, you're dirty, a servant, a pig.
BOY2
I'd never touch something like you.
LADY
Stop!
SHE STRUGGLES, HE GROPES HER. THE BROTHER WATCHES, HANDS IN HIS POCKETS, ENJOYING IT. WHEN BOY2'S HAD ENOUGH HE LETS GO, LAUGHING, AND BOY3 RELEASES HER SHOULDERS. LADY HURRIES AWAY, DOWN THE ROAD.
BROTHER
(CALLING AFTER HER)
No one's listening: you can yell and cry and tell them all, but no one would believe you. Because he didn't touch you.
LADY RUNS DOWN THE ROAD.
FADE TO:
6. INT. WASHERWOMAN'S COTTAGE. NIGHT.
LADY CLOSES THE DOOR BEHIND HER, BREATHLESS, SHAKING. ROUGHLY TAKES HER COAT OFF. CLOSES HER EYES, LEANS HER BACK AGAINST THE DOOR.
MOTHER
(FROM OFFSCREEN)
Daughter?
MOTHER EMERGES FROM THE BEDROOM, DRESSED FOR SLEEP.
MOTHER
Where have you been? I thought you got back hours ago-
MOTHER SEES LADY IS IN DISTRESS.
MOTHER
What happened?
GOES OVER TO HER.
LADY
It's. Fine, nothing happened.
MOTHER GOES UP TO HER, SEES SHE'S SHAKING.
MOTHER
Tell me.
LADY
It was just, boys, you know. Joking.
MOTHER
What did they do?
LADY
They. Um. He, one of them. Touched me.
MOTHER
Touched you. Where?
LADY
Uh, here.
LADY GESTURES TO HER BREAST. MOTHER IS LIVID. A PAUSE.
MOTHER
Right.
A BEAT.
MOTHER
Come on.
LADY
Mother, it's nothing-
MOTHER
-Come, girl.
THERE IS NO ARGUING WITH HER MOTHER. LADY FOLLOWS HER.
CUT TO:
CONT. INT. THEIR KITCHEN.
MOTHER RUMMAGES IN DRAWERS, PULLS OUT THE MORTAR AND PESTLE, SALT, NETTLE, AND A CLOVE OF GARLIC. SHE HANDS THE GARLIC TO LADY. LADY DOESN'T JUMP INTO ACTION.
MOTHER
Girl.
LADY
Mother we can't do this.
MOTHER
crush the garlic.
LADY
Mother, they're hunting witches-
MOTHER
-And we're not witches. We're just women. But he will pay. I promise you.
LADY HESITATES, THEN PLACES THE GARLIC ON THE COUNTER, FINDS A SMALL PARING KNIFE IN A DRAWER, AND GETS TO CRUSHING IT.
MOTHER
Good girl.
THEY MIX THE CRUSHED GARLIC, BLACK SALT AND NETTLE IN THE MORTAR AND PESTLE. MOTHER TURNS THE PESTLE AROUND, WHISPERING TO HERSELF. LADY WATCHES, UNHAPPILY. MOTHER FINISHES, THEN HOLDS THE MORTAR AND ITS CONTENTS OUT TO LADY.
MOTHER
Take.
LADY SCOOPS AN AMOUNT ONTO HER FINGERTIPS.
MOTHER
Rub it where he touched you.
LADY LOOKS AT HER MOTHER, DESPERATE NOT TO REPEAT THE HUMILIATION.
MOTHER
Do it.
LADY PUTS HER HAND UNDER HER BLOUSE, AND RUBS THE CONCOCTION ON HER BREAST, WHERE THE BOY TOUCHED HER.
MOTHER
Tonight, when he's lying in bed, he'll think of you, because that's what this is about, it's about wanting you and knowing they can't have you and so making you feel small and contained. And so tonight, when he's in bed thinking of you, if he should touch himself then let his hands be unclean, riddled with filth and shame, so that should he ever think of you in that way again, let it be him who is shamed, and not you.
LADY
This isn't real, mother. It's another of your stories.
MOTHER DOESN'T ANSWER. HOLDS THE SILENCE AS LADY RUBS THE MIXTURE INTO HER SKIN. SILENCE. SOUND OF A BIRD OUTSIDE. MOTHER LOOKS AWAY, THEN BACK. THE TRANCE IS BROKEN.
MOTHER
Wash yourself love, you smell of garlic.
MOTHER KISSES HER GOODNIGHT.
LADY GOES TO THE SINK. HOLDS IT TIGHTLY. NOTICES DIRTY DISHES BESIDE IT, UNWASHED. BREATHES OUT, FRUSTRATED. LOOKS OUT THE WINDOW, SEES SOMETHING.
CUT TO:
EXT. VIEW FROM MOTHER AND LADY'S KITCHEN WINDOW. LIGHT IN THE DISTANCE, ON THE MOORS, MOVING SLOWLY.
LADY WATCHES IT, BUT SHE BLINKS AND IT'S GONE. JUST A STILL, DARK NIGHT.
FADE TO:
7. THE NEXT DAY. EXT. VILLAGE. DAY.
LADY CARRYING A BASKET OF CLEAN, FOLDED CLOTHES. SHE GOES BETWEEN HOUSES, RETURNING ORDERS OF WASHING AND COLLECTING THE MONEY FOR IT.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. STREET.
SHE GETS TO THE MERCANTILE PART OF TOWN; THE GROCER, THE POST OFFICE, THE APOTHECARY. PEOPLE DON'T REALLY NOTICE HER, SHE HAS AN AIR OF INVISIBILITY TO ANYONE OVER THE AGE OF 40.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE APOTHECARY'S
LADY HEADS UP THE STEPS OF THE APOTHECARY'S. A HINT OF ANGERED CONVERSATION FROM INSIDE. SHE PUSHES THE DOOR OPEN.
CONT. INT. THE APOTHECARY'S
SHE STOPS IN THE DOORWAY, THE CONVERSATION STILL GOING.
BOY2
...must have something, it fucking itches.
THE APOTHECARY BEHIND THE COUNTER SEES LADY ENTER AND SMILES AT HER, APOLOGETICALLY. BOY2 GLANCES OVER AND WINCES, LOOKS DOWN. HE TRIES TO HIDE HIS RIGHT HAND BY CRADLING IT CLOSE TO HIM, BUT LADY, AND WE, SEE THAT HE HAS AN AWFUL RASH ALL OVER HIS HAND. IT SEEMS TO START FROM HIS PALM, WHERE HE TOUCHED HER YESTERDAY, AND SPREADS UP HIS WRIST. IT'S PUSSY AND GROSS, AND LOOKS EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE. BOY2 IS MARKEDLY LESS COCKY THAN YESTERDAY.
CAMERA PANS TO HIS COMPANION, THE BROTHER, WATCHING LADY WITH NARROWED EYES FROM A FEW STEPS BEHIND BOY2.
LADY HOLDS FIRM, CONTAINING HER REACTION. SHE'D LOVE TO GRIN, BUT KNOWS BETTER. SHE APPROACHES THE COUNTER, PULLING OUT A SMALL STACK OF MEDICAL WRAPS/MUSLIN.
APOTHECARY
(TO BOY2)
pardon me.
THE APOTHECARY OPENS THE TILL AND PRODUCES A COIN FOR LADY. SHE SETS THE BUNDLE DOWN AND HE GIVES HER THE COIN.
LADY
Thank you.
LADY WASTES NO TIME IN FINISHING HER BUSINESS AND LEAVING.
CONT. EXT. THE APOTHECARY'S.
LADY PUSHES THE DOOR OPEN. WE CATCH THE LAST OF THE CONVERSATION.
BOY2
Just give me something to help
APOTHECARY
If you'd just tell me what caused it...
THE CONVERSATION IS LOST AS THE DOOR CLOSES BEHIND HER. LADY HEADS DOWN THE STEPS. WE HEAR THE DOOR OPENING AGAIN. SHE HURRIES DOWN.
BROTHER
(FROM OFFSCREEN)
You did this.
LADY FREEZES. LOOKS BACK. THE BROTHER STANDS OUTSIDE THE APOTHECARY'S.
LADY
Did what?
BROTHER
Whatever you did to his arm-
LADY
-what are you talking about?
BROTHER
It was you, touching you that-
LADY
-he never touched me.
BROTHER HUFFS A LAUGH, WITHOUT AMUSEMENT.
BROTHER
I could tell them you're a witch.
LADY
Witches aren't real.
BROTHER
But they'd believe me, sooner than they'd believe you.
LADY
Looks like nettles.
BROTHER
What?
LADY
His rash. Urtica dioica. Common stinging nettle. They grow all around here, sich in die Nesseln setzen. Tell him to mix a handful of oats with water and soak it for fifteen minutes. Should help.
BROTHER
How'd you know that?
LADY
I read about it.
BROTHER
As if.
LADY
And tell him it's best he doesn't go putting his hands in nettle bushes again. I read that you can develop a severe allergy to them, can send you into shock, stop your breathing. Can be fatal.
BROTHER
Witch.
HE GOES BACK INTO THE APOTHECARY'S. LADY BREATHES OUT.
FADE TO:
8. INT. CORRIDOR. NIGHT
LADY CARRIES A CANDLE. HER OTHER HAND TOUCHES THE WALL. SHE WALKS SLOWLY, WIND BLOWING, A DEEP CREAKING BELOW HER. SHE LOOKS BACK, ONLY DARKNESS, LOOKS FORWARD, ONLY DARKNESS. SHE KEEPS WALKING. THE CORRIDOR NARROWS, HUGGING HER SHOULDERS. SHE TRIES TO LOOK BACK, CAN'T TURN, HAS TO KEEP GOING FORWARD. SHE WALKS, AND WALKS, CORRIDOR NARROWING, UNTIL THE WIND BLOWS THE CANDLE OUT.
CUT TO:
9. INT. WASHERWOMAN'S. BEDROOM. NIGHT.
LADY WAKES UP FROM THE DREAM. LIGHT FROM THE MOON COMES THROUGH THE WINDOW. SHE SITS UP IN BED. PRESSES A HAND TO HER CHEST. BREATHES DEEPLY.
CUT TO:
INT. WASHERWOMAN'S. KITCHEN.
LADY TAKES A DRINK OF WATER AT THE SINK. TOUCHES SOME TO THE BACK OF HER NECK. WASHES HER HANDS. SHE LOOKS OUT THE WINDOW.
EXT. VIEW FROM THE KITCHEN WINDOW. LIGHT IN THE DISTANCE, ON THE MOORS, MOVING SLOWLY.
INT. SHOT OF LADY'S FACE. ZOOM IN.
EXT. ZOOM IN TO THE LIGHT.
CUT BETWEEN LADY AND THE VIEW OF THE LIGHT: UNTIL WE SEE THE LIGHT IS A CANDLE HELD BY A WOMAN DRESSED IN BLACK, WATCHING LADY FROM THE MOORS.
CUT TO BLACK.
TITLE CARD: LADY.