Chaddleworth
EXT. A DARK ROAD - NIGHT
A 1950s car weaves its way along a dark road in the countryside, its dim headlights highlighting the horizontal rain through which it battles.
INT. INSIDE THE CAR - NIGHT
The driver, an American, attempts to peer through the misty windscreen. He wipes an already damp cloth against the glass in an attempt to get a view of the road ahead. He is wet, his hair wet, his coat wet. He has, at some stage, quite clearly been out in the rain. The car stutters.
AMERICAN
Son of a bitch!
He peers again through the windscreen, the whole situation pushing him to the edge of uncontrolled anger. He pulls the car over and lights up a cigarette. He inhales deeply, savouring the moment of relaxation, his hands at last off the wheel, his eyes at last not straining at the windscreen. He rolls the window down to let the smoke out, but arrows of rain shoot through the tiniest gap. He angrily closes the window again.
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
Son of a bitch!
He tries the radio. Nothing but static comes through. He curls his lip at it and shakes his head hopelessly, impatiently. Suddenly, through the rain and the black, in the distance, just for half a second, he sees a light.
CUT TO: THE AMERICAN'S POV AS HE LOOKS THROUGH THE WINDSCREEN.
CUT TO: INSIDE THE CAR, LOOKING AT THE AMERICAN
The AMERICAN squints through the windscreen and the rain. He is unsure if he has seen the light. He becomes anxious that it was just a figment of his imagination and looks harder in the hope that he sees it again. He gets out of the car, his hands tight against his coat, the top of his head bowed into the driving rain. He looks up. There are trees in the distance, black dancing shadows on the horizon. His eyes half closed against the rain, he looks to the trees in the hope that he can see the light again. There it is! It appears through the swaying branches. And again!
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
Son of a bitch!
He runs back to the car, leaps behind the steering wheel and starts the engine. The car screams in agony as if the AMERICAN has stuck a knife into it and not just a key.
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
Son of a bitch!
He smashes the car into gear and sets off against the noise of rain and a dying engine. He peers into the distance, trying again the find the light, his head bobbing like an owl as he tries to get a glimpse between the distant silhouettes of trees. It's there alright! That one tiny pinpoint of light, like a lighthouse to a ship on a storm-tossed sea. The AMERICAN allows himself a smile. He urges the car on, rocking his body back and forth as if the action will give the car extra momentum. He takes a corner and nearly loses control, the wheels bumping over the grass verge.
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
Come on, you son of a bitch!
He rights the car and comes out of the bend. As he does so he sees the house.
CUT TO: AMERICAN'S POV. AN ISOLATED MID-NINETEENTH CENTURY HOUSE, ITS SILHOUETTE LOOMING AGAINST THE NIGHT SKY. IN THE SHADOW OF THE BUILDING, A SINGLE LIGHT.
The AMERICAN steps hard on the brakes. He quickly opens the car door and throws up. He looks up. He sees a white picket gate set in a white picket fence. Upon the gate is the name - CHADDLEWORTH.
INT. THE HOUSE. TOP FLOOR - NIGHT
ELDON STREET, the owner of Chaddleworth, looks out of his window out into the rainy night. In the distance he can make out the weak lights of a car as it struggles to find its way through the narrow country roads. His face is implacable, but there is a smug arrogance in his eyes, an 'I-know-something- you-don't' air about him. He leaves the room, his gait shuffling, his clothes almost too big for him.
INT. DOWNSTAIRS. HALLWAY.
ELDON puts on a large rainproof coat and buttons it up thoroughly. There is no hurry about him. Then he pulls some boots on. He goes to a cupboard and takes out a torch.
Next to the torch on the shelf are two large batteries. He puts them into the torch and then slowly screws the back of the torch into place. He tests the torch against his hand. Satisfied, he makes his way to the front door. As he opens it, the noise of the storm takes over the hallway. He closes the door behind him. The hallway falls silent.
EXT. OUTSIDE CHADDLEWORTH - NIGHT
From over the gate, ELDON STREET shines his torch upon the nauseated AMERICAN, who remains half in and half out of the vehicle after vomiting. ELDON is dressed against the ferocious rain, his face barely visible inside the shroud of a hood on his coat. The AMERICAN blinks into the torch light.
AMERICAN
Chaddleworth?
ELDON nods.
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
Son of a bitch!
ELDON opens the gate and goes to help the man straighten himself up.
ELDON
Let me help you.
The AMERICAN allows ELDON to help him up and out of the car. They go towards the gate.
AMERICAN
The car...
ELDON
The car will be fine. Let's just get you out of this weather.
Huddled against the rain, the two men head towards the front door.
INT. THE LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
A fire burns and sends a warm glow into the room. The AMERICAN sits somewhat self-consciously in a deep chair with a brandy and cigarette in his hand and another man's dressing gown on him. He is dry, but his hair remains a mess. ELDON sits at the other side of the fire. He sits rigidly, his back straight. He sits with a cigarette in his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair.
ELDON's hand with the cigarette scythes down to his mouth and he takes what appears to be a precise amount of smoke from the cigarette before raising his arm again. This constant movement has worn that particular part of the chair's arm.
The hand with the cigarette points rigidly towards the ceiling. The smoke from the cigarette goes straight up towards the shadows of the ceiling. He stares implacably at the AMERICAN from behind round, wiry glasses which are hooked over large ears. He has intense eyes, an angular face, his hair combed back and held in place by Brylcreem. He is shaved.
AMERICAN
This is very kind of you, Mr Chaddleworth.
ELDON
Actually, it's...
AMERICAN
There aren't many places in the world where you could rely upon the kindness of a stranger to help the way you have. Certainly not in big- town America, anyway.
(he drains the remaining brandy)
I'm sorry, you were about to say something...
ELDON
No. It's fine.
AMERICAN
Do you have a telephone? I could call for assistance. A local garage maybe?
ELDON
The phone system is unreliable in this weather. Dampness. There is a garage, but they open again at nine tomorrow morning. This is the countryside. Very little works upon demand.
AMERICAN
I see.
(beat)
Have you lived here long?
ELDON
Thirty years.
AMERICAN
That's a long time. In America, we would consider something thirty years old to be an antique.
(he laughs self-consciously)
ELDON
I like the quiet. The towns are growing, creeping. I don't like the congestion, the busyness.
AMERICAN
You live alone?
ELDON
(Eldon shifts in his chair, slightly uncomfortable with this personal line of questioning)
I do live alone, yes.
AMERICAN
Never married?
Eldon stubs his cigarette out and immediately lights another. There is no hurry in him. It almost seems to be a delaying tactic, to slow down the questions, to give him time to answer.
ELDON
(without emotion)
She died.
AMERICAN
I'm sorry.
ELDON nods his thanks.
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
When?
ELDON
Oh, some time ago.
(quickly)
Would you like another drink?
AMERICAN
Thank you. I would. I feel warmer already.
He points at the blazing fire.
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
Only in England would you need a fire in the summer time.
Eldon rises from his chair and goes to a drinks cabinet. He picks up a fine crystal-cut decanter and generously fills the glasses. His hand shakes slightly as if the weight of the crystal is too much for his thin wrist. Is it caused by alcoholism, nervousness or excitement? The AMERICAN takes a look around the room and we see that it is dust-free, immaculate, a place for everything and everything in its place.
ELDON hands the AMERICAN his drink and sits down again, taking the same rigid posture as before.
ELDON
I find that foreigners are under the misapprehension that all England is cottages, with roses around the door, green fields and perpetual summer. Except at Christmas when, for perhaps three days, it snows and people flock to the streets to sing carols and take mulled wine and hot chestnuts and skate upon frozen ponds.
AMERICAN
In the same way that Americans are seen as cowboys, I suppose. People find comfort in stereotypes.
ELDON
I do not. They serve no purpose and are a disservice to those being stereotyped and to those committing the sin.
AMERICAN
It's a little strong to call it a sin, wouldn't you say, Mr Chaddleworth?
ELDON
I use the word in its loosest sense. I found many Germans to be as charming or as repulsive as any Englishman, Frenchman or indeed any American when I was in Europe.
AMERICAN
You served?
ELDON
I did.
AMERICAN
In what unit?
ELDON
3rd Para.
AMERICAN
I was 505th.
ELDON
(flatly)
It's over now.
AMERICAN (awkwardly)
It is. Thank goodness.
ELDON continues to stare intently at the AMERICAN. The AMERICAN is plainly uncomfortable with the silence and the stares.
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
What do you do? For a living? What do you do?
ELDON
Oh, this and that.
The AMERICAN laughs nervously.
AMERICAN
What kind of this and that would that be?
ELDON
Local government.
AMERICAN
That covers a multitude of sins.
ELDON
It certainly does.
AMERICAN
In the loosest sense of course.
(he laughs nervously)
ELDON
Of course.
AMERICAN
Are you still there?
ELDON
I retired.
AMERICAN
Oh? You seem too young.
ELDON
Illness.
AMERICAN
That's unfortunate.
ELDON
It was a dull life. I was content to go.
AMERICAN
(shuffles forward in his chair)
I should go.
ELDON
(suddenly alert)
To where? How?
AMERICAN
I have to be somewhere. The car has had a rest. I'm sure it'll be fine now. It gets worked pretty hard. I was pushing it some. Probably needed a little time out. We both did.
ELDON
If you must, but at least let me send you on your way with a bit of hot food inside you. I insist.
AMERICAN
No, really. That's very kind of you. You've done enough. The kindness of strangers and all that.
ELDON
I insist.
AMERICAN
(beat)
Sure. Okay. That would be good. Who knows? Maybe the weather will be a bit calmer by then.
ELDON looks towards the dark windows. A gust of wind throws a handful of rain at the glass.
ELDON
Unlikely. I'll make some food.
ELDON gets up from his chair and goes towards the door.
AMERICAN
(calls after ELDON)
Can I be of any help?
ELDON
(without turning around)
No. You cannot.
ELDON goes out of the living room door and fades like a ghost into the darkness of the hallway. The AMERICAN watches after him. He seems perplexed by ELDON and perhaps, though he would not admit it, a little afraid.
INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT
The AMERICAN enters the dining room and met by a dimly lit room where, in the centre, beneath its own light, sits an elegant dining table festooned with all the niceties of fine eating. The cutlery is perfectly laid out, there are deep wine glasses, crisps white napkins placed upon side-plates, all upon a virgin white tablecloth.
ELDON stands behind his chair waiting for te AMERICAN. He indicates that his guest should take a seat opposite him. The AMERICAN, with a nod of thanks, does so. ELDON follows his lead and sits.
AMERICAN
This is a fine spread, Mr Chaddleworth. I'm very grateful.
ELDON
It would be wrong to let you go unfed.
ELDON pours them each a glass of wine.
AMERICAN All the same...
ELDON
(in a slightly more buoyant, friendly tone)
I hope you like the wine.
It's a Merlot. Quite smooth. Quite...fruity, with a tiny kick.
ELDON points open-handedly at an array of bowls.
ELDON (CONT'D)
Please. Help yourself. There's a selection of vegetables. I won't take offence at anything you choose to omit. I hope you like the lamb, though.
AMERICAN
I'm sure I will. I rarely have the chance to eat lamb. America is a great beef country, some pork. We never think of lamb before those.
The AMERICAN drinks some wine. He likes it.
ELDON
What do you think of the Merlot?
AMERICAN
You're right. It's fruity. It goes down very easily. Too easily, I fear.
The AMERICAN, having helped himself to some vegetables, cuts eagerly into the lamb. He eats as is he hasn't had a decent meal in some time. ELDON watches him with a look between pleasure and disdain.
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
You're a wonderful cook, Mr Chaddleworth.
ELDON
Thank you. My wife liked my cooking.
AMERICAN
(enthusiastically)
I can understand that.
ELDON
She liked lamb.
AMERICAN
What's not to like? If it was anything like this, I can understand why she liked it. It’s succulent. It’s flavoursome. Just the way lamb should be.
ELDON
(beat)
It was the lamb that killed her, you know.
The AMERICAN continues to devour his food, spearing the final piece of lamb and running it through the thick gravy.
AMERICAN
Oh? Really? How so? Allergy of some sort? Bone? It's easy to miss a bit of bone and get it stuck in the old throat. You're in trouble then. I knew a guy got a chicken bone stuck in his windpipe. He started shaking, turned blue and dropped on the spot. Poor bastard.
ELDON
No. Nothing like that.
AMERICAN
Well? What was it then?
ELDON
I poisoned her.
AMERICAN
With lamb? Was it bad meat? 'Cause when meat goes off and you eat it, it's like a nuclear blast in your gut...
ELDON
No. You misunderstand. I poisoned her.
AMERICAN On purpose?
It is clear that ELDON is not quite listening as he should, as he carries on eating
ELDON
On purpose.
AMERICAN
Why?
ELDON
I had grown to dislike her.
The AMERICAN finishes his meal, places his cutlery on the plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin. He lights cigarette. He offers one to ELDON, who declines, indicating that he will have one of his own, preferred brand.
AMERICAN
Did she nag? Is that what it was? I heard that can push a man to the edge. I'm not married so I wouldn't know. I need my space, that's why I never married. Lived with a girl once, for a month or so, but she drove me crazy with all that feminine stuff around the house and the constant need to talk. Plus, my job wasn't so compatible with the family lifestyle, so to speak.
It suddenly dawns on the AMERICAN that ELDON is serious. His face falls.
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
(beat)
Mr Chaddleworth? Did you poison my dinner?
ELDON
(he lights a cigarette)
Yes.
A sweat breaks out on the AMERICAN's brow. He picks up his napkin and wipes his face. He belches and puts the napkin to his mouth. A flower of blood spreads across the white material.
AMERICAN
What the hell?
The AMERICAN becomes dizzy.
AMERICAN (CONT'D)
What the hell did you do to me?
ELDON
I have killed you, sir.
The AMERICAN begins to wheeze and shows discomfort as his chest tightens.
AMERICAN
But, Mr Chaddleworth? Why?
ELDON
(in a blasé way)
It's what I do.
The AMERICAN vomits on the table. He looks on in horror as the snow-white tablecloth becomes saturated with his blood.
He looks disbelievingly at ELDON, then flops face-first onto the table. Dead.
ELDON stares at the dead man as he smokes. There is an almost indiscernible smile at the corners of his mouth. After a few moments, he extinguishes the cigarette. This done, he goes to the body and checks it for a pulse, first at the wrist, then at the neck. He leans forward and checks for breaths. Nothing. Satisfied, he grabs the AMERICAN's arms and pulls him from the chair, across the floor and through the house.
INT. THE KITCHEN - NIGHT
ELDON drags the body to the back door, unlocks it, then drags the AMERICAN outside...
EXT. THE GARDEN - NIGHT
...into the garden. It has stopped raining. The night has calmed. It is a large, well-cultivated garden. ELDON drags the body down the garden into an area that remains unkempt.
He takes a torch from his pocket and begins to search through the undergrowth. After a few minutes, he finds what he is looking for. He grabs a length of rope and pulls the large wooden lid from a well. He lays it to one side, then goes back to the AMERICAN and throws the lifeless body down the well. There is a distant splash/thud as the AMERICAN hits the bottom. ELDON replaces the lid, kicks some foliage back on top of it, then leaves. He goes back up the garden. There is a square of light that falls from the kitchen onto the grass. It swallows him. The back door closes. We are left in the silence of the garden.
FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN:
EXT. INSIDE THE AMERICAN'S CAR. ELDON DRIVING - DAY
ELDON drives the AMERICAN's car. He likes it and seems content behind the wheel. The knocking is plain to hear and the car stutters. Something is clearly wrong with it. He drives into the local village and stops outside a traditional old garage that has seen better years. The owner comes out from behind large blue wooden doors. ELDON gets out of the car.
MR MILLS
Morning, sir. Mr Street, is it?
Early phonecall. You were lucky to catch me in at that time. Urgent job, is it?
He holds out a greasy hand to ELDON, realises the state of it and withdraws it. ELDON had made no attempt to take it anyway.
MR MILLS (CONT'D)
What's the problem then?
ELDON
It knocks. As you drive, it knocks. Underneath.
MR MILLS
Loss of power? Stuttering?
ELDON nods.
MR MILLS (CONT'D)
I'd better take a look then. Leave it with me. I'll take it for a spin.
MILLS looks at his watch and waves a hand across the road at a pub.
MR MILLS (CONT'D)
It's nearly eleven-thirty. Pop and have a ploughman's and a pint. I should have a good idea by the time you're done.
MILLS holds out a hand for the keys. ELDON hands them over.
MR MILLS (CONT'D)
Thanks. Give me an hour.
ELDON wanders away to the pub.
MILLS watches him go, watches the man in clothes which seem too big for him as he shuffles across the road towards the pub. He shakes his head.
INT. THE PUB - DAY
ELDON sits at a table in the pub, next to a window. From there he can see the garage. He has in front of him a cup of coffee and some half-eaten sandwiches. He hears the car come back and looks out of the window.
The vehicle pulls into the garage. The large blue doors close. ELDON returns to his coffee and sandwiches.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
ELDON has finished eating and drank his coffee. He looks at his watch and notes that it has been an hour since he left the car. He leaves his seat.
Through the pub window, we see him cross the road and go towards the garage. MILLS comes out from behind the blue doors and seems to be beckoning ELDON quite urgently towards the garage.
EXT. THE STREET - DAY
MR MILLS
You should see this, sir. It's worse than I thought. Way worse. I should say this is going to cost you, good and proper.
MIILS all but pulls ELDON through the doors into the much darker garage. It takes a moment for ELDON to adjust to the light. He sees the car, with the boot open. The large blue doors close behind him with finality. A naked bulb suddenly throws light upon the room.
ELDON turns to see a two policeman at the doors. One of the policemen comes forward.
POLICEMAN
Is this your vehicle, sir?
ELDON
(at a bit of a loss; he cannot deny it)
Yes. Yes it is.
The policeman walks around to the back of the vehicle and stands at the open boot.
POLICEMAN
Could you explain this then please, sir?
ELDON looks into the boot of the car. Upon an old, grey woollen blanket lies the body of a middle-aged woman with a single bullet wound above her left eye.
ELDON stands by speechlessly as he realises that he has been hoist by his own petard.
FADE TO BLACK.
TITLES.