Suffragette Page #4

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STEED and WALSOP step back, admiring the row of PHOTOGRAPHS.

STEED (CONT’D)

... to justify the unjustifiable.

MAUD’s surveillance image catches his eye - MAUD leaving the

pharmacy with GEORGE.

STEED (CONT’D)

Now, who’s this here?

STEED picks up MAUD’s SURVEILLANCE PHOTOGRAPH, hanging it on

the line.

WALSOP:

Watts. Maud Watts. Not seen her

before.

STEED, peering closer at the photo of MAUD.

INT. CORRIDOR/TAYLOR’S OFFICE. LAUNDRY.BETHNAL GREEN.DAY.

On MAUD, carrying a clutch of paperwork, walking towards the

frosted window of TAYLOR’s office door.

She enters -

MAUD freezes on seeing TAYLOR, hands roughly shoved up

MAGGIE’s skirt as she tries to push him off.

TAYLOR:

There’s a good girl. Come on.

MAGGIE:

No! Get off.

TAYLOR:

It’ll be alright. It’ll be alright.

MAGGIE:

Get off.

TAYLOR:

You know what I like.

MAUD drops the paperwork and TAYLOR spins around. MAGGIE

turns, flushing on seeing MAUD, shame and self disgust

flickering across her face.

MAUD scuffling to retrieve the paperwork, hurrying out of the

office, shutting the door behind her. She moves away down the

corridor, head down.

TAYLOR turns to MAGGIE.

TAYLOR (CONT’D)

Get back to work. Go on, get out

there.

INT.CORRIDOR/TAYLOR’S OFFICE.LAUNDRY.BETHNAL GREEN.1912.DAY.

MAUD, deeply shaken, hurries away through back corridors of

the laundry and slips into a dark corner.

She closes her eyes, tries to calm her breathing.

INT. LAUNDRY. BETHNAL GREEN. 1912. DAY.

Back on the laundry floor, MAUD gathering herself. TAYLOR

surprising her-

TAYLOR:

What did you want Maud?

MAUD:

Fourteen short on soap paddles.

TAYLOR:

Why don’t you tell acquisitions if

we’re short?

TAYLOR moves up close behind her.

TAYLOR (CONT’D)

I don’t want a slip up like that to

happen again, do you hear?

(MORE)

TAYLOR (CONT’D)

(close to)

She reminds me of you at that age.

On MAUD, eyes blazing, fighting back angry tears.

LATER -

MAUD hesitates on catching MAGGIE, scrubbing her hands at a

sink. The sound of running water silently goading MAUD,

breaking her heart.

INT. LAUNDRY. BETHNAL GREEN. 1912. DAY.

The end of the day - on VIOLET, passing TAYLOR with other

MALE LAUNDRY WORKERS including SONNY, laughing and joking by

the door, pulling on clean shirts and clearly preparing to

leave at the end of the day.

TAYLOR:

Oi, Mrs Miller I hear you’ve been

chosen to deliver your testimony to

Mr Lloyd George?

VIOLET, quietly defiant, ignoring TAYLOR’s smirk.

VIOLET:

Tomorrow.

TAYLOR:

(calling after)

Leave the vote to us, eh Mrs Miller

and we’ll leave you to the home.

VIOLET:

I’ve already made up the hours.

Worked late Tuesday and Thursday.

And Maggie will mop up any extra.

TAYLOR:

Why don’t you tell Mr Miller I’ll

give you a clip round the ear and

knock some sense into you if he

won’t.

MALE LAUNDRY WORKER

Yeah, me an’ all. Do ‘er some good,

eh?

VIOLET walking determinedly away. MAUD, face hardening, looks

back at the laughing MALE WORKERS, SONNY sobering on seeing

MAUD’s quiet look-

MAUD:

(sudden/calling back)

Violet. I’ll come with you

tomorrow. Hear you speak.

On SONNY, flushing, the MALE WORKERS JEERING and TEASING

SONNY as MAUD turns to go.

SONNY:

Maud. What you doing?

MAUD:

I’m just going to listen.

EXT. STREET. HOUSE OF COMMONS. LONDON. 1912. DAY.

A crowd gathering outside the HOUSE OF COMMONS.

SUFFRAGETTES mill with POLICE OFFICERS waiting to get inside-

Several WOMEN stand with banners denoting their factory or

home town; the COLLINGWOOD SEAMSTRESSES, the MANCHESTER

BAKERS amongst them. MAUD waiting, looking up in awe at the

looming building.

She turns, eyes searching, relief on seeing-

MAUD:

(calling out)

Violet! Where were you? We waited

and-

MAUD stopped in her tracks on seeing VIOLET, her face black

and blue.

Violet.

MAUD (CONT’D)

VIOLET:

It’s nothing. I’m all right.

MAUD hurries to help VIOLET, clearly fragile, yet moving on.

MAUD:

Mrs Haughton’s inside.

VIOLET:

Well come on then.

INT. HALL. HOUSE OF COMMONS. LONDON. 1912. DAY.

VIOLET with MAUD on the approach-

ALICE:

Mrs Miller-

ALICE clocks VIOLET’s face with shock.

ALICE (CONT’D)

(clasping VIOLET’s arm)

Oh, my dear-

From beyond, a CLERK stands by the door calling out-

CLERK OS:

(shouting out)

Glass House Laundry next.

Sheffield Weavers Union please be

ready. You’re straight after.

ALICE looks at VIOLET with growing concern.

ALICE:

You cannot deliver your testimony

like this.

CLERK OS:

Deputations will be heard one by

one.

I’m fine.

VIOLET:

ALICE:

No, Mrs Miller, you’re not. Lloyd

George will dismiss you and all you

say.

CLERK OS:

Glass House Laundry.

VIOLET:

Maud, you speak for me.

On MAUD, her face drained of colour.

MAUD:

I can’t.

ALICE:

It is written down.

ALICE holds out VIOLET’s testimony, written down on paper.

MAUD:

No, I'm not. I'm not good at...

ALICE:

All you'd have to do is read it.

MAUD:

Please ask someone else. I'm...

There'll be someone else who can do

it better than I can. Please-

VIOLET:

You can tell 'em. You can tell ‘em.

Maud, please.

CLERK:

(louder/more insistent)

Glasshouse Laundry please

ALICE:

Please, we have no time.

VIOLET:

(whispering)

You can do it. You tell ‘em. Good

luck Maud.

On MAUD, reluctantly taking VIOLET’s testimony, the words

swimming in front of her eyes. MAUD looks back at VIOLET,

clearly struggling.

INT. MEETING ROOM. HOUSE OF COMMONS. LONDON. 1912. DAY.

The TAP TAP of MAUD’s boots cross the room-

VIOLET:

Good luck Maud.

Mr DAVID LLOYD GEORGE [late 40s] and a second MINISTER, both

seated-

LLOYD GEORGE:

Shall you begin Mrs Miller-

ALICE and VIOLET seated near the back with a few other

OFFICIALS.

MAUD:

...Watts. It’s Mrs Watts, Sir.

A PRIM FEMALE TYPIST TAPS away at a typewriter close by,

taking this down.

MAUD (CONT’D)

Mrs Miller isn’t able to. I have

her testimony-

MAUD looks down at the paper, faltering, LLOYD GEORGE seeing

this. He smiles kindly -

LLOYD GEORGE:

You work at the Glasshouse Laundry

in Bethnal Green too?

MAUD nods. She looks down at the paper and then over at ALICE

who silently urges her on-

MAUD:

I was born there.

LLOYD GEORGE:

Then I should like to hear your

testimony.

LLOYD GEORGE smiles, waits.

MAUD:

I don’t know what to say.

LLOYD GEORGE:

Your mother worked at the laundry?

On MAUD, a quiet decision made as her arm drops, paper in

hand.

MAUD:

From when she was fourteen. She’d

strap me on her back or under the

copper vats if I’d sleep. All the

women did it who had babies then.

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