The Possession Page #5

Christabel returns Ash's smile. Modestly flirtatious, she

is drawn into his orbit, staring deep into his eyes.

BLANCHE (V.O.)

'... This famous poet would have

been much surprised to know my true

opinion...'

(CONTINUED)

24.

CONTINUED:

Blanche watches Ash walk with Christabel away from her.

BLANCHE (V.O.)

'... But I smiled and nodded as best

I might, keeping my thoughts to

myself.

(beat)

I desired to be at home.'

Blanche holds in her hand a book, with an embossed gilded

dove on its cover. Then -

INTERCUT WITH:

ROLAND:

Checking the clock, flips through yellowing pages of

Blanche's journal, filled with portraits of Christabel.

BLANCHE (V.O.)

'... My Princess is much exercised

about a long letter which arrived

today, which she did not show me,

but smiles over, and caught up and

folded away...'

Slowly her portraits change into macabre drawings of

serpents and goblins. Roland returns to a page he's

skimmed:

BLANCHE (V.O.)

'... Letters, letters letters...'

INT. BLANCHE & CHRISTABEL'S HOUSE (1858) - DUSK

In the hallway, a pile of letters. Christabel picks them

up, heads upstairs. Followed at a distance, by Blanche:

Her face brooding and suspicious. As Christabel drops a

letter -

Blanche picks it up, goes to the door, confronts her with

it. Christabel runs upstairs, sobbing...

BLANCHE (V.O.)

'... Not for me. You need not hurry

them away...'

INSIDE HER ROOM:

Christabel hides letters in her sewing basket, folds them

under handkerchieves. Outside, through the keyhole -

(CONTINUED)

25.

CONTINUED:

BLANCHE (V.O.)

'... I am no sneak, no Governess.

From that fate you rescued me, my

Princess, as I shall rescue you from

yours...'

Blanche spies in.

EXTREME CLOSEUP - IN IRIS

Her eye large, unblinking. Blanche moves back, stares out

the window.

beginning.

The panes frame her face.

By candlelight -A

storm is

BLANCHE (V.O.)

'... Now we have a prowler...'

Blanche sees tree shadows move across windows. RAIN and

WIND HOWL outside. WINDOW FRAMES RATTLE, Blanche's anger

mounts. As branches scrape over windows -

BLANCHE (V.O.)

'... I hear him out there. A wolf

at the door...'

Blanche watches as from outside something BANGS against a

door. A low moan of CRACKING WOOD. A latch is BATTERED

until ready to give. In a reflection, Blanche sees -

BLANCHE (V.O.)

'... This peeping Tom has put his

eye to our walls. Now he peers

shamelessly in...'

A man's face -- Ash -- BOOM! A sudden GUST OF WIND.

Windows and shutters are blown in -- rain pours through. A

silhouette -- a face like Ash. Then the WINDOW BURSTS open

Splinters of glass fly towards Blanche -

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. LIBRARY - NIGHT

Silence. Dusk has turned to night. Beneath an isolated

pool of overhead light, Roland looks up from the diary into

darkness. Among the shelves, a shadow stirs. From the

darkness -

MAUD:

Did you find anything?

(CONTINUED)

26.

CONTINUED:

Maud steps into the light. Stunned, Roland closes the book.

ROLAND:

I think so.

Alone together in the deserted library. Unexpectedly

intimate, even erotic. Maud perches on a desk.

ROLAND:

Do you know about this prowler

Blanche was so worried about? The

wolf at the door?

MAUD:

You think it may have been Ash? You

saw her drawings. Blanche had a

vivid imagination.

On the desk, Roland and Maud flick through Blanche's macabre

drawings of labial flowers and serpents' tongues.

ROLAND:

And was jealous.

MAUD:

Possibly. If Christabel was her

lover. Lovers do get jealous, don't

they?

ROLAND:

What happened to Blanche?

MAUD:

She drowned in the Thames, shortly

after completing this book.

Suicide. Christabel was distraught.

It was all very sad.

(beat)

But it's getting late.

ROLAND:

I need to find out what happened

next.

MAUD:

Sorry, not tonight. The center's

closed.

Roland looks at Maud. Realizes now or never.

ROLAND:

Then I'd better explain.

(CONTINUED)

27.

CONTINUED:

Roland takes out the two stolen letters from his pocket. He

tosses them on the table. Maud starts to read them.

ROLAND:

I found these. They're in Ash's

handwriting.

MAUD:

You're sure they're authentic?

ROLAND:

I've checked. They're dated June

19, 1858.

MAUD:

The day after Crabb Robinson's

party.

ROLAND:

Precisely. If I can find something

definite, they could change our

whole idea of Ash.

(beat)

And perhaps of Christabel.

Maud's pulse quickens. She finishes, looks up, regaining

her composure. Senses their importance.

ROLAND:

I haven't shown them to anyone else.

No one else knows they exist. I

found them in a book in the London

Library.

MAUD:

You stole them -- ?

ROLAND:

I don't think they're mine, or

anything. But they're not Cropper's

or Blackadder's or Lord Ash's

either. Don't you see? My Ash

lived a quiet and exemplary married

life. Now, suddenly...

(beat)

A love letter to an unknown woman.

As Roland ties himself in knots, Maud is coolly accusatory.

MAUD:

I suppose they might represent a

considerable academic scoop. For

you.

(CONTINUED)

28.

CONTINUED:

ROLAND:

Well, I wanted to be the one who

does the work...

(realizes her

insult)

... Wait a minute -- it wasn't like

that.

MAUD:

I'm sorry. I'd never have the nerve

to do that. Steal them...

ROLAND:

It was an impulse. For the first

time, I felt Ash was alive in those

letters. It was incredible. That's

why I need you to find out the truth

about Ash and Christabel -

MAUD:

You know Cropper funds the center.

If he finds out -

ROLAND:

He won't. If you don't tell him.

MAUD:

I can't let you Xerox Blanche's

diary. The spine won't stand it.

Maybe you could copy it out. I need

to think.

ROLAND:

You can't throw me out.

MAUD:

Can I book you a guest room?

ROLAND:

I don't have any money.

MAUD:

I thought you were working for

Blackadder.

ROLAND:

Part-time. I also wash dishes in a

restaurant.

Maud mulls it over.

(CONTINUED)

29.

CONTINUED:

MAUD:

You'd better come back to my place.

(beat)

You can sleep on my sofa.

Roland looks at the diary. The traces of the faded brown

writing. As Maud's hand rests close by.

INT. MAUD'S FLAT - SITTING ROOM - NIGHT

Outside in the hall, Maud collects bedding, plays back an

ANSWERING MACHINE MESSAGE from Cropper, as in her sitting

room -

Photographers from Leonora, letters from the Cropper

Foundation. An illustrated book has been left open for him

on her desk.

MAUD (O.S.)

I found something for you. A first

edition of Christabel's poem, The

Fairy Melusina that Blanche

illustrated...

ROLAND:

Can I read it?

MAUD (O.S.)

Yes. It's very beautiful. Critics

still dismiss her poetry. But I

always found it strange and

powerful. There's one passage about

a woman who'd give anything for a

child, even a hedgehog, and duly

gives birth to a monster...

Roland looks at the macabre illustration. As Maud enters.

ROLAND:

I think Blanche is sorry for the

hedgehog.

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