Audrey Rose Page #2

to sit with lvy for an hour or so, surely?

- Mr Templeton?

- I'll see.

Let's say 9.30.

If that's convenient, of course.

I'll see.

Call the police.

Not until I find out

what the hell this is all about, babe.

(chatter)

Mr Templeton!

Mrs Templeton.

It's very quiet in here.

I... I've reserved a table.

Look, I want to thank you both

very much for seeing me.

Good evening.

Would you like something,

Mrs Templeton?

- Well, not for me, thank you.

- Scotch, Maria.

Ah, yes, I'll have tea.

Do you have any Chinese gunpowder?

I'll see if we have some.

For two weeks a man with a beard has

been bugging my family. Is that man you?

Yes.

I apologise for that.

But all the subterfuge, the disguise,

were absolutely necessary

before this meeting could take place.

- I had to be sure.

- Of what?

Well, things had to be right

before we met.

Let me explain.

It's taken me a very long time,

seven years, in fact,

seven years of travel,

investigation and study,

calling for a total reconditioning

of all my spiritual...

What the hell are you talking about?

I'll try and make things

as clear as I'm able to, Mr Templeton.

But first there are some things that you

must know. Some very complex things.

So I'll begin at the beginning.

11 years ago, I was a very happy man.

I had a family.

A wonderful wife

and a lovely daughter.

My daughter's name was Audrey Rose.

She was five when she died.

Everything that was good seemed

to shine from her eyes, you know?

Anyway, there was

an automobile accident and...

It happened just outside Pittsburgh.

There was a storm

and their car just went off the road.

It was very quick, very sudden.

Thank you.

Naturally, the loss of my wife and

my daughter was quite unbearable.

I don't know how I existed. One day I had

a feeling that Audrey Rose was near me.

We didn't have any Chinese gunpowder,

sir, so I brought you Formosa oolong.

Thank you, Maria.

I still don't understand what you're saying

and why you're saying it to us.

All right.

About a year after the accident,

a friend took me to a dinner party.

One of the guests was a psychic.

A clairvoyant.

She told me everything I had done

since I was a boy,

and then she began

to talk about my daughter, Audrey Rose,

describing her as if she were alive.

I asked her to stop, but she wouldn't.

I remember I began to cry,

because I couldn't help it,

and she leaned over

and she asked me why I was crying.

So I told her that my wife

and my daughter were dead.

But she said no.

No, my wife was at peace,

but my daughter was alive.

I thought it was a poor joke. I couldn't

believe that anybody could be that cruel.

Then a few months later I happened to be

here in New York City on a business trip.

One night I was passing the Town Hall

and I saw advertised on the marquee

outside, "Eric Lloyd, clairvoyant."

Anyway, after the lecture,

or the demonstration, whatever,

I went back and saw Mr Lloyd

in his dressing room

and, like the woman at the party,

he told me very accurate things.

Very accurate things indeed.

Things about my daughter, Audrey Rose.

Again, describing her

as if she were alive,

but this time giving me details

of the home she lived in.

It was an apartment

here in New York City

that had a lovely ceiling

with classic paintings set into it.

And even the room in which she slept,

with the yellow and white curtains.

The matching canopy bed.

The...

The giant panda

and the aquarium in the corner.

She had come back, he said.

Audrey Rose had come back...

(cup clatters, Janice gasps)

I'm terribly sorry.

I'm sorry, Mrs Templeton,

this must be a shock to you.

I can understand what a blow

your daughter's death must've been,

how hard it was for you to accept.

But what you're saying now...

Reincarnation, is that what you're saying?

There's no mistake, Mr Templeton.

The very moment I saw lvy,

I could recognise

all the subtle qualities

that once belonged to Audrey Rose.

Mr Hoover, you can believe what you

want, but please don't involve my family.

- You're wanted on the phone.

- Excuse me.

- Mrs Templeton, can we talk?

- No, excuse me. I have to go see...

All right, we'll be right up.

- What is it?

- Ivy.

- Ivy? What's the matter?

- I don't know.

- Mr Templeton, we haven't finished.

- Yes, Mr Hoover, we have finished.

We have listened to your story.

We're very sorry for you.

But leave us alone.

Don't follow us. Don't phone us.

Your problem is not our problem.

(whimpers)

Sweetie. Ivy.

(lvy moans and cries)

- Sweetie.

- Daddy... Daddy...

Daddy... Daddy... Daddy...

Shh. Wake up, honey.

Shh. Hi.

Hi, sweetheart.

- Hi.

- Hi.

Hi, Daddy. What are you doing here?

I just came

to kiss my princess good night.

- I'm glad you're here.

- I'll always be here, darling.

It's all right. Do call.

I'll be home all morning.

OK. Good night.

Oh, Bill,

those nightmares twice in one week.

Honey, come on. Don't panic, babe.

You know the pattern.

They come and they go.

Take her to see Dr Kaplan tomorrow, huh?

OK.

- What about Elliot Hoover?

- Oh, honey, he's a fanatic, a weirdo.

The city's full of 'em.

- What if he isn't?

- You believe his story?

Well, he believes it. He sincerely believes

everything he's saying.

I know it's crazy, but there's something

about the way he looked.

(phone rings)

- Heavens.

- Don't worry.

- Hello?

- Mr Templeton? It's Elliot Hoover.

Hoover, I've had enough of you.

Leave us alone or I'll take steps

to see that you do. Understand?

(slams down phone)

I don't know if he's an extortionist,

or a nut, as you say,

or a man who believes this to be so.

We're talking about an area that a lot

of people don't know anything about.

When I was a boy,

every Shabbos we used to sit around

and listen to my grandfather

tell stories about the dybbuk,

an evil spirit

who could come and invade bodies.

- What's that got to do with this?

- That every religion has its mysteries.

- Come on, Russ.

- OK, scoff.

But on Friday nights, when the candles

were lit and he spoke of the dybbuk,

he scared the hell out of us.

Question. Did this Hoover

make any demands upon you?

No, but there's no saying he won't.

Russ, we are being primed

for some kind of a shakedown.

- Is it possible to contact him?

- It's impossible to avoid him!

- He's been calling the office all morning.

- Good. Invite him to your home.

Are you crazy?

I won't let that lunatic into my house.

I'm your lawyer.

I need to know what he's after.

Extortion. Blackmail. Ivy.

You sit him down and drag this out

very specifically from him.

I'll write out the questions,

you memorise them and ask them.

Bill, I'll be there. I'll be your witness.

It's incredible. It's absolutely incredible.

You know, it's exactly

as Eric Lloyd described it.

Ceiling paintings.

Oh, my...

The huge windows.

And the carved fireplace.

It's unbelievable.

- Would you have a seat, Mr Hoover?

- Certainly.

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