Peeping Tom Page #18

Her head and shoulders blot out most of the screen - but

between her outspread fingers WE CATCH A GLIMPSE of a girl's

terrified eyes.

MRS. STEPHENS

Why don't you answer?

CLOSE SHOT of Mark and Mrs. Stephens.

MARK:

(staring at the

screen)

It's no good - I was afraid it

wouldn't be.

MRS. STEPHENS

What?

MARK:

The lights failed too soon.

MRS. STEPHENS

(pause)

They always do.

MARK:

I'll have to try again.

He hurries to his cine-camera.

MRS. STEPHENS

I've yet to meet an artist who

could judge his own work...

Mark slips a new spool of film into his cine-camera.

MRS. STEPHENS

What do you think you've spoiled?

MARK:

An opportunity... now I must find

another.

He looks at her thoughtfully, then presses a light switch.

A spotlight falls blindingly on to her eyes. He presses

another switch, and then another, until the whole of her

face is shining with light.

MRS. STEPHENS

Why are you putting those lights

on my face?

He walks towards her. She starts to back away.

The shadow of Mark's head appears on the 16mm screen. WE

SEE him raise his camera - then pull down the tripod.

Black out into the grey darkness of Mrs. Stephens' world.

WE HEAR the purring of Mark's camera - more clearly than

we have yet heard it. (There is the faint rasp of a cog

which needs oiling.) The sound of footsteps approaching...

the purring changes direction.

MRS. STEPHENS (O.S.)

Mark...

MARK (O.S.)

It's almost over...

The purring is on top of her. There is a sudden thud.

FADE IN:

Mrs. Stephens is leaning against the wall... she has dropped

her heavy stick. It lies on the floor a few feet away from

her. Mark is kneeling in front of her - the tripod firmly

on the floor. The cine-camera is pointing upwards into her

face. He peers excitedly into the viewfinder.

MARK:

Please let me finish! It's for

Helen!

She edges towards her stick. He hurries forward and picks

it up. He looks at the spike on the end of it - then

carefully gives it to her by the handle. She grasps it

tightly.

MRS. STEPHENS

What do you mean? It's for Helen?

MARK:

She wants to see something I've

photographed!

He returns excitedly to his camera.

MRS. STEPHENS

My daughter sees enough of my face

without photographs...

On Mark's focusing screen WE SEE the fear on her face. Her

hand trembles as she wipes away the perspiration.

MARK (O.S.)

Please... don't be frightened.

MRS. STEPHENS

Not frightened! Hot!

But it is fear that we are looking at.

MRS. STEPHENS

So put that camera away...

On the focusing screen we see her moisten her lips

nervously.

MARK:

Yes!

He switches off the camera abruptly, and folds up the

tripod. He turns away without looking at her - and hurries

to the door.

CLOSE SHOT of Mrs. Stephens listening to his movements -

puzzled.

MRS. STEPHENS

In rather a hurry, aren't you?

He glances towards her.

From his POV WE SEE the fear in her eyes. He looks away at

once, staring into the darkened room.

MARK:

It's late.

From her POV (shooting over her shoulder with a large CLOSE

SHOT of her ear in the foreground) WE SEE Mark standing in

the doorway - and hear, very clearly, his quick, uneasy

breathing.

MARK:

You must be tired...

MRS. STEPHENS

You're anxious to get rid of me

all of a sudden.

We hear his quick intake of breath.

MRS. STEPHENS

I won't be selfish... You can take

some more pictures - if you want

to...

MARK:

No... thank you.

MRS. STEPHENS

(quietly)

Why not, Mark?

MARK:

Run out of film.

MRS. STEPHENS

Can't you find some - to please

Helen?

He glances towards her - then hurries into the next room.

MRS. STEPHENS

You don't trust yourself to take

any more, do you?

INT. MARK'S SITTING ROOM - NIGHT

The tapping of her stick is overlaid. Mark hurries to the

door and opens it - staring into the dimly lit passage.

Over his shoulder WE SEE her tapping her way towards him

from the dark-room.

MRS. STEPHENS

Instinct's a wonderful thing, isn't

it Mark? A pity it can't be

photographed.

Over her shoulder we follow the stick towards him.

MRS. STEPHENS

if I'd listened to it years ago, I

might have kept my sight.

(she approaches the

door)

I wouldn't have let a man operate

I had no faith in... so I'm

listening to it now...

(she puts her face

close to him)

It says all this filming isn't

healthy - and that you need help...

His face is averted... his eyes are closed.

MRS. STEPHENS

... get it, Mark... get it

quickly... and until you've got

it... I don't want you and Helen

to see each...

MARK:

I'll never photograph her... I

promise you that.

MRS. STEPHENS

I'd rather you don't have the

chance.

He turns towards her - a small boy who suddenly understands

what contagious means...

MRS. STEPHENS

I mean it, Mark. And if you don't

listen to me... one of us will

move from this house - which would

be a pity, because we'd never find

a cheaper...

MARK:

You'll never have to move... because

of me... I promise you.

MRS. STEPHENS

Good boy.

(she takes his hand)

The stairs are the difficult part...

They go into the passage.

INT. PASSAGE - NIGHT

He guides her gently down the stairs. Over their shoulders

WE CAN SEE the door of Helen's room.

MRS. STEPHENS

Far enough, Mark...

He stares at Helen's room - then looks quickly away.

Suddenly she raises her hands - and runs them gently over

his face...

MARK:

taking my picture?

MRS. STEPHENS

Yes ...

We can see his eyes through her outstretched fingers.

MARK:

It's been a long time... since

anyone did...

MRS. STEPHENS

Mark... what's troubling you?

MARK:

Good night, Mrs. Stephens.

He turns away abruptly and hurries up the stairs.

MRS. STEPHENS

...you'll have to!

She looks towards Helen's room - then turns slowly towards

her own.

HIGH ANGLE SHOT of Mrs. Stephens opening the door of her

room - and Mark opening the door of his.

DISSOLVE TO:

CLOSE SHOT of a bottle of whisky standing by a bedside.

INT. MRS. STEPHENS' BEDROOM - NIGHT

She is lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. WE HEAR

footsteps moving overhead.

CAMERA PANS to the window. It is dark.

DISSOLVE TO:

CLOSE SHOT of the same bottle of whisky - now almost empty.

Mrs. Stephens' heavy breathing is overlaid.

CAMERA PANS to the window. It is daybreak.

The footsteps are still moving about above; things are

being dragged across the floor.

DISSOLVE TO:

CLOSE SHOT of Helen in a dressing-gown looking out of a

window.

INT. HELEN'S ROOM - MORNING

From Helen's POV WE SEE Mark hurrying down the street, his

camera over his shoulder.

DISSOLVE TO:

CLOSE SHOT of the Inspector looking out of a window.

INT. DON JARVIS' OFFICE. MORNING

From his POV WE SEE Mark hurrying along the studio

quadrangle, his camera over his shoulder. He is one of a

crowd of people scurrying towards their jobs. Camera pulls

back - Don Jarvis is seated at his desk.

Arthur Baden and the Chief Publicity Man are seated in

front of him. The Sergeant stands by the door.

JARVIS:

Have you any suspicions, Chief

Inspector?

INSPECTOR:

It could be any of them...

SERGEANT:

That's the trouble with film people -

they're all peculiar...

(hastily)

... present company excepted.

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