The Possession Page #2

They walk down the corridor with Fergus, Blackadder putting

on his coat.

ROLAND:

I feel sorry for poor Beatrice.

Even the feminists hate her now for

championing a dull wife -

BLACKADDER:

(exasperated)

Beatrice Nest and her bloody letters

of Ellen Ash are completely

irrelevant to modern scholarship.

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

7.

CONTINUED:

BLACKADDER (CONT'D)

She's wasted twenty-five years

looking up every recipe for

gooseberry jam and jaunt to

Broadstairs. That's what I get for

hiring a Ph.D from...

(can barely say it)

... New Zealand.

FERGUS:

The old witch. She's the best

keeper of the Ash Museum you'll find

BLACKADDER:

Yes. Like Ellen, Beatrice is best

behind closed doors...

Blackadder and Fergus swoop off. Roland watches them go,

turns 'round to see -- Beatrice scurry back into her room

like a crab. Obviously overheard their comments. Roland

sighs -

CUT TO:

EXT. LONDON STREETS (PICCADILLY) - DAY

The spinning wheel. On his bicycle, with his panniers and

clips, Roland swerves through noisy traffic, heading for -

EXT. LONDON LIBRARY (ST. JAMES'S SQUARE) - DAY (PRESENT)

An elegant London square. Roland cycles in as leaves blow

from a tall tree towards a vast Victorian library, where

people leave by stone steps, armfuls of books. As Roland

parks his bike -

Some LEAVES float away, tumble towards a skylight on the

library roof TAPPING like birds trying to enter, as -

INT. LONDON LIBRARY - HALL - DAY

Roland enters the shabby hall. Bespectacled scholars

shuffle around in a silent hum. Roland seems suddenly "at

home." All around him, wasted lifetimes devoted to books...

8.

INT. LONDON LIBRARY - STACKS - DAY

Roland navigates like a mole accustomed to the dark through

a maze of metal shelves. Hidden stairs and tiny corridors

like a Piranesi prison, books piled high: dark, dusty,

infinite...

Roland seems to know his way, even in the dark...

INT. LONDON LIBRARY - BASEMENT - RARE BOOKS DEPARTMENT DAY

Zig-zagging through a labyrinth of books, Roland emerges

down in the basement. He knocks at a door marked "Rare

Books 5." No reply, so he enters -

A musty room like a pharaoh's tomb, a high window casting

light into a cell of vellum and leather. Roland puts files

down.

ROLAND:

My name's Dr. Michell, Roland

Michell. You have a copy of Donne's

poetry for me. An 1858 edition.

A pebble-glassed LIBRARIAN emerges, crooked as his tottering

piles of books. Slightly deaf, he takes his time.

LIBRARIAN:

You ordered it through Professor

Blackadder over at the Ash

Institute?

ROLAND:

Correct. I'm working on the

Complete Works edition with him.

LIBRARIAN:

I didn't know Ash was an admirer of

Donne?

ROLAND:

He quoted one of Donne's poems on

his deathbed. I'm checking

references in the Nineteenth Century

editions... just to be sure.

The Librarian finds Roland's book, bound with tape. He

wipes away black dust, hands it over. Roland sits down,

cracks pages apart.

(CONTINUED)

9.

CONTINUED:

LIBRARIAN:

Doesn't look like it's been touched

for a while. I'll check...

Flicking through, Roland sees notes scrawled in the margins.

CLOSEUP - HANDWRITING

BACK TO SCENE:

It intrigues him.

ROLAND:

Someone's scrawled notes all over

the margins.

LIBRARIAN:

Hm...? Well... it's never been

called for, as far as I know...

(checks file cards, as

Roland reads)

Odd... According to our records,

this edition was bequeathed to us by

Ash's widow, Ellen.

ROLAND:

You mean this copy belonged to Ash

himself? Someone must have

consulted it before now.

LIBRARIAN:

Seems it was lost in our filing

system...

Intrigued, Roland goes back to cutting leaves. With great

delicacy he cuts open a set of pages, suddenly two old

letters fall to the floor. Roland bends down to pick them

up -

LIBRARIAN:

(rambling on)

`... Devil and Demonology, Dogs,

Domestic Servants and... Donne...'

(beat)

You can lose anything in here. I

found a set of false teeth once...

Roland isn't listening. Dazzled by a thin shaft of

sunlight, Roland starts to read. On yellowing PAPER, a

sound of a PEN SCRATCHING.

(CONTINUED)

10.

CONTINUED:

And Ash's voice -- deep, intimate -- OVER:

ASH (V.O.)

`... Dear madam, Excuse this letter

to a stranger. Yet since our

pleasant and unexpected conversation

at Crabb Robinson's party, I have

thought of nothing else...'

On hearing Ash's voice, Roland turns the letters over. Like

a spell, the voice stops. Roland stares hard at the

letters, then looks back at the Librarian. Concealing the

letters from view.

Warily, Roland turns the letters over again. As Roland

reads the next passage, his expression changes to wonder.

ASH (V.O.)

`... I feel, I know with a certainty

that cannot be mistaken, that you

and I must speak again...'

He reads on, silently. Then turns the letters over again.

He folds back the book to the front paper: A signature

"Randolph Henry Ash." Roland pulls the letter up beside the

signature -

ROLAND:

Incredible...

CLOSEUP - LETTER/SIGNATURE

A match.

BACK TO SCENE:

Like a great poker hand, Roland can't believe his luck.

Suddenly alive, confused, palpitating, he looks 'round.

LIBRARIAN:

Hm...? Found anything interesting?

EXTREME CLOSEUP ON ROLAND

deliberating. His heartbeat seems to pause. Time stops,

his whole life converges in a single moment: Life or death,

truth or lie, a simple "Yes" or "No":

ROLAND:

No. Nothing really...

11.

BACK TO SCENE:

Guiltily, Roland slides the letters into his copy of

Poems of R.H. Ash. And slips the book beneath his arm, as -

A loud KNOCKING sound CARRIES OVER from -

AUCTIONEER (V.O.)

... Sold once... sold twice...

INT. CHRISTIE'S AUCTION HOUSE (LONDON) - DAY

A hammer bangs on a gavel as an AUCTIONEER closes a deal.

In a panelled room, a crowd of buyers sit waiting, some

poised on phones, others with catalogues: Victorian

Literary Memorabilia.

AUCTIONEER:

Sold for a hundred and twenty-five

thousand guineas...

The tall, handsome buyer, acknowledges the Auctioneer:

MORTIMER CROPPER, U.S. scholar, collector, master of the Ash

universe. Nearby, the elderly LORD ASH, and his wastrel

son, HILDEBRAND.

AUCTIONEER:

... Letters and memorabilia of

Randolph Henry Ash, including

wedding rings belonging to the poet

and his wife... to Professor

Cropper.

Behind him, Blackadder and Fergus Wolf exchange glances.

Cropper acknowledges Blackadder, turns to Lord Ash.

CROPPER:

We can rest easy, Lord Ash. The

wedding rings are secured for the

Ash Collection.

LORD ASH:

You beat the Japanese again?

CROPPER:

Of course, sir. We have very ample

funds.

LORD ASH:

(repeating vaguely)

Very ample funds...

Lord Ash smiles. Cropper comments to Hildebrand.

(CONTINUED)

12.

CONTINUED:

CROPPER:

Pleased to see your father so happy.

HILDEBRAND:

Money always excites him.

CROPPER:

Then we should go. No more buried

treasure here. Your father's very

frail.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote