A Monster Calls Page #5

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A WIND rustles the top of the yew tree. It also RUSTLES

CONOR’S HAIR. Do we hear a whisper? Is a voice saying,

“Conor...”

Conor pulls the gate shut firmly, still watching the tree.

The wind dies.

Mum (o.S.)

Conor?

He turns at the call from his mum.

59.

29 InT. conor’S KITCHEN/sittinG ROOM - the NEXT DAY 29

Conor enters through the kitchen and sees his GRANDMA (mid50s,

crisp, professional, VERY ungrandmotherly) standing with

her back turned to him in the sitting room. Mum, red scarf

tied around her head, sits on the couch looking into a box.

She glances up and sees Conor, causing GRANDMA to turn.

Grandma

(crisp, not entirely

friendly)

Ah, there’s the little man.

Mum

(still looking in box)

Jesus, Ma, let him have a childhood

first.

(pulls out a terrible wig)

Where did you say you got these?

GrandMA

Clearance of a very nice old

people’s home. They’re turning it

into flats and I’ll be the agent.

Mum gives Conor a look of comical horror Grandma can’t see.

Conor smiles. Grandma looks to see if she’s being made fun

of, but Mum’s face immediately goes serious again.

GranDMA (CONT’D)

They’re clean.

MUM:

Thanks, Ma.

Conor shares one last conspiratorial look with his Mum.

GRANDMA:

They’ll be warmer than those

scarves. It’s not exactly summer

anymore. In case you haven’t

noticed.

Mum

(quietly defiant)

I like my scarves.

GraNDMA

(to Conor)

Your mother needs some tea. Green,

no sugar. I take mine black.

Conor looks at his Mum at this command. She rolls her eyes

and nods. As he leaves, Grandma turns back to Mum.

GranDMA (CONT’D)

Now then, Elisabeth, my girl. What

are we going to do with you?

60.

30 InT. conor’s kITCHEN - MOMENTS LATER 30

Conor waits for the kettle. He looks out the window, where

the yew tree sits innocently atop the hill. He hears raised

voices from the sitting room.

61.

30A EXT. CHURCHYARD HILLTOP / CONOR’S HOUSE - MORNING 30A

He stares HARD at the tree while his mum and grandma

argue and the kettle whistle gains in intensity.

GranDMA (o.S.)

...this has gone on far too long,

these things need to be discussed-

Mum (o.S.)

Ma, I know what I’m doing-

GRANDMA (o.S.)

Yes, all those marvelous impulsive

decisions that never affect your

life at all-

MUM (o.S.)

Says the woman who schedules her

toilet breaks. Seriously, Ma? We’re

having this conversation now?

GRANDMA (o.S.)

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just-

MUM (o.S.)

Go help Conor with the tea or I

will literally go insane.

Kettle whistle sound stops as Grandma enters kitchen. She

regards Conor, hands on hips.

GranDMA

(beat, all business, voice

low so mum can’t listen)

You and I need to have a talk.

Conor stiffens. This isn’t the first time for this.

ConOR

I’m making tea.

GRANDMA:

Conor-

CONOR:

I’m making tea.

GraNDMA

(snapping)

We have to

(beat, gathers herself)

I’m not your enemy, Conor. I’m here

to help your mother.

62.

CONOR:

I know why you’re here.

He grabs a cloth and starts furiously wiping the counter.

Grandma snatches the cloth out of his hand. To his surprise,

he sees that her hands are shaking.

GRANDMA:

I’m here because 12-year-old boys

shouldn’t be wiping down counters

without being asked to first.

ConOR

Were you going to do it?

GRANDMA:

Less of your cheek-

CONOR:

She’s always sick after the

treatments. She’ll be better

tomorrow. And then you can go home.

Grandma doesn’t answer, just rubs her face, then her arms,

keeping strong emotions in check. This is a woman whose

daughter may be dying, after all.

Conor is so unsettled, he grabs another cloth and starts on

the counter again.

GRANDMA:

(barely controlled)

She’ll seem better tomorrow. But

she won’t be.

Conor doesn’t like this at all.

CONOR:

Yes, she will. “You go through the

rough stuff but it’s for a good

reason.” That’s what she says.

Grandma clearly wants to say much more but can’t or won’t.

GRANDMA:

You need to talk to her about this.

(to herself)

She needs to talk about this with

you.

CONOR:

Talk to me about what?

GRANDMA:

(beat)

About you coming to live with me.

There, the die is cast. Conor is furious.

63.

CONOR:

I’m never coming to live with you.

GRANDMA:

Conor, listen to me, if your mother-

CONOR:

There’s no if. She’ll feel better

and then you can leave-

GRANDMA:

Conor-

A panicked call from the sitting room.

Mum (O.S.)

(distressed)

Ma? Mum?

A look of heartbreaking terror crosses Grandma’s face, as she

bolts, almost comically fast, out of the kitchen to her

daughter. Conor follows, glancing out the window, where the

tree is still a tree

64.

31 InT. conor’S SITTING ROOM - conTINUOUS 31

Conor enters the sitting room. Grandma is helping Mum up from

the floor, Mum is in serious pain.

Mum

(gestures to mantel)

I need the Oromorph-

GRANDMA:

(looking)

Which one?

Conor steps forward, points.

ConOR

That one. For the stabbing pains.

Quick, grim beat for Grandma and Mum that Conor knows this,

then Grandma grabs a LIQUID PAINKILLER from the mantelpiece

and starts to dose her daughter.

Mum pants as she swallows it, trying to catch her breath,

ride out the pain. Grandma rubs her back.

GranDMA

It’s okay, darling, it’s okay, shh,

shh, shh.

Grandma looks up at Conor, her face set and unreadable.

65.

32 InT. conor’s sitting room - that evening 32

Grandma sets a meal, heavy on the celery, down in front of

Conor and his Mum, who looks much more tired. They eat on

trays in the sitting room.

Mum

A tray where joy goes to die.

GraNDMA

It’s good for you.

MUM:

When in history has that ever

worked?

Grandma’s not listening. She’s looking back at the projector.

GRANDMA:

Are you just going to leave that

hunk of junk in the middle of the

sitting room?

MUM:

It’s not a hunk of junk. Dad loved

it.

Grandma snorts, a little dismissively.

MUM (CONT’D)

But all those classics. King Kong,

Frankenstein-

GRANDMA:

When exactly do you think I was

born? I was 18 years old when Star

Wars came out. I have about as much

interest in boring old films as

Conor probably does.

(to Conor)

Right?

ConoR

(quietly)

King Kong was pretty good.

GRANDMA:

(shaking her head, to Mum)

You and your father. Always chasing

butterflies.

Mum

Yeah, well, you were always there

to remind us we had chores to do.

66.

GRANDMA:

(stung)

And made sure there was food on the

table.

Mum holds up limp celery, giggling with Conor. Grandma sees.

GranDMA (CONT’D)

Shall I just make you ice cream

sundaes that you’ll throw back up?

(grabs pizza box, still

there from before)

Or order pizza that’ll make sure

you’ve only got empty calories to

face more chemo with?

Mum

What’s wrong with food that makes

me happy? Can’t you let me enjoy

life a bit?

GRANDMA:

(shocked)

Yes! I want you to enjoy it for a

long, long time.

MUM:

(warning her about Conor)

Ma-

GRANDMA:

Why is it so bad that I’d like you

to take care of yourself?

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