Red Riding Page #6

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43 EXT. PAULA GARLAND’S HOUSE - DAY 43

Eddie goes to a red door in a row of pre-war houses. A woman

in her early 30s answers - thin, bruised-beautiful. PAULA

GARLAND. She takes Eddie’s breath for a second.

EDDIE:

Mrs. Paula Garland? I’m from the

Yorkshire Post. It’s about

Jeanette.

44 INT. PAULA GARLAND’S HOUSE, FRONT ROOM - DAY 44

Eddie runs his eyes over Paula’s figure as he follows her

into a well-furnished room. There are some new items still

wrapped in plastic. On the TV is the school photo: Jeanette

Garland against a background of blue skies and white clouds.

Just like Susan Ridyard.

EDDIE:

Mr. Garland about?

PAULA:

What do you want Mr. Dunford?

EDDIE:

Well, I’m doing an article on the

parents of children who have gone

missing.

(she doesn’t blink)

It’s about how parents have coped,

after all the fuss has died down.

(still no reaction)

I know this must be difficult. I

mean, I know how you must have

felt...

PAULA:

You have no idea how I feel.

She turns away. In a mirror she sees Eddie take in her body.

EDDIE:

I mean, for example, do you think

the police could have done anything

more to have helped you?

PAULA:

There was one thing.

EDDIE:

(notebook ready)

Yep. And what was that?

PAULA:

They could have found my daughter.

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EDDIE:

Of course...

She’s white hot. Controlling it.

PAULA:

You come into my house talking to

me like you’re discussing the

weather or some war in another

f***ing country. This thing

happened to me!

Eddie wants to hold her, wants to comfort her. Can’t.

EDDIE:

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...

PAULA:

You’re not sorry.

EDDIE:

Please...

PAULA:

Get out.

45 EXT. PAULA GARLAND’S HOUSE - DAY 45

The red door is slammed in Eddie’s face. Eddie turns to the

street. Opposite are more recent semis and a sign: A DAWSON

UK DEVELOPMENT. He senses everyone watching him. A WOMAN with

a pram gawps. Eddie grabs his crotch at her.

46 INT. THE SHAKESPEARE PUB - DAY 46

Eddie glares at Barry over pints and cigarettes.

EDDIE:

Her husband’s dead?!

BARRY:

Never got over Jeanette. Sucked on

a shotgun a year back.

EDDIE:

Sh*t.

BARRY:

You’re supposed to know these

things, Dunford.

EDDIE:

It didn’t exactly make the Front

Page down South.

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BARRY:

Well it did here. And you should

have f***ing known. Do your job.

BARMAN:

Time Gentlemen please!

Early Sunday closing. Eddie drains his glasses.

EDDIE:

How was "Shangrila"?

Barry takes his time, smiles.

BARRY:

Mrs. Dawson told me my life’s in

danger.

EDDIE:

Bollocks.

47 EXT. THE SHAKESPEARE PUB CAR PARK - DAY 47

Eddie and Barry head across the car park.

BARRY:

Dawson did his National Service in

Kenya. There are tales of scalping

and rape and genital mutilation. He

taped the screams. For fun.

EDDIE:

(beginning to bite)

If you seriously believe her, you

should tell someone.

BARRY:

Who? The Law? These people are the

Law.

Barry assesses Eddie. Is he up to it?

BARRY:

Eddie? That Gypsy camp at Hunslet

Carr? Take a closer look. Dawson

set up a 100 million pound property

trust. One hundred million. Be

interesting to know who else is on

the board...

EDDIE:

And there are Death Squads out

there, right?

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BARRY:

You’re ignorant, Dunford. Try

carrying a history book along with

that notepad of yours.

EDDIE:

Want a lift or what?

BARRY:

Going the other way.

Barry unsteadily walks away.

EDDIE:

Pisshead!

Barry turns back.

BARRY:

You never had the urge to deliver

us from evil, then?

EDDIE:

Never!

BARRY:

The devil triumphs when good men do

nowt.

And, laughing, Barry disappears from view...

A screech of tyres. Eddie turns: A police car comes racing

off the road and swerves to a halt in the car park. TWO

POLICEMEN get out. Tommy Douglas and Bob Craven.

CRAVEN:

What’s going on, son?

EDDIE:

Been for a pint.

DOUGLAS:

F*** off.

EDDIE:

I’m over 18, dad. Honest.

CRAVEN:

Come here, you little puff.

Craven grabs Eddie. Spins him round. Slams his face against

the Viva. Holds him by his neck.

EDDIE:

What do you want?

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DOUGLAS:

I’ll tell you what we don’t want.

We don’t want tits like you

bothering people who don’t want

bothering.

Craven runs his finger between Eddie’s cheeks and pushes it

up his arse.

CRAVEN:

It’s not nice, is it.

DOUGLAS:

We’ll be watching you.

CRAVEN:

(jabbing harder)

Always.

Craven kisses Eddie on the cheek.

48 INT. YORKSHIRE POST, RECORDS - EVENING 48

Eddie spins through the files: back in time to 1972.

Photographs of Jeanette Garland. “Missing. Police Widen

Search. Police Baffled. Police Call off Search. John Garland,

father to Jeanette, commits suicide”... Photographs of Paula

Garland. Blonde, beautiful, hard...

49 INT. PUB - EVENING 49

The noisy PUB CROWD. Eddie gets himself a drink. Whisky down

in one. Pint to cool his throat. Needed it.

In the mirror - hidden at the back of the crowd, he sees

Paula Garland. Damaged and pale in her red sweater. Sitting

alone at a table by the jukebox.

Eddie brings his pint and a large whisky to Paula’s table.

EDDIE:

Mrs. Garland...

Paula’s had a couple already. She looks at his cheerful grin.

Looks away. Feigned boredom.

EDDIE:

Seems like a nice local...

She takes her time.

PAULA:

It used to be.

EDDIE:

Mind if I join you?

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Paula nods at the drinks in his hands.

PAULA:

One of them for me?

Eddie hands her the whisky. Offers her a cigarette.

EDDIE:

Come here often, then?

PAULA:

Sounds like you’re trying to pick

me up, Mr, Dunford.

Eddie laughs a little too quickly.

EDDIE:

Hope your friends in the force

don’t see us together...

PAULA:

What do you mean?

EDDIE:

I got the message. You didn’t need

to go to the police.

PAULA:

I never said anything to the

police.

EDDIE:

Who did you tell?

PAULA:

No one.

The music changes. Diana Ross. Paula stares down into the

jukebox lights. Eddie studies her face.

EDDIE:

Look, I really am sorry about

before.

PAULA:

(a straight look)

You were doing your job. It might

help find my little girl...

EDDIE:

Mrs. Garland...

PAULA:

Paula. It’s Paula.

EDDIE:

I was right out of order. I didn’t

know about your husband.

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She shrugs - tips a little more whisky.

PAULA:

Ring always felt loose to be

honest.

(a look just for Eddie)

There, that was a stupid thing to

say...

Paula finishes her whisky.

EDDIE:

Want another?

PAULA:

Trying to get me legless?

EDDIE:

Just say...

PAULA:

Bad idea. You said sorry. Thanks

for that.

EDDIE:

I’ll give you a lift home.

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