Testament of Youth Page #3

An expectant silence. Edward gives Vera a pained look - he

understands her feelings. She goes and sits at the piano

- Stares at the keys for a long beat

Hands raised

Then brings them CRASHING down, BANGING out a CACOPHANY!

She stops - stark silence. Her mother and Mrs. Ellinger look

shocked. Vera leaps up and heads for the door, her father

immediately on her trail

11 INT. LIVING ROOM DOOR/HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS 11

Mr. Brittain stops her before she can go any further.

MR. BRITTAIN

Vera! Come back and apologise now!

Vera’s expression is defiant. Mrs. Brittain hovers anxiously

in the background with the others.

MR. BRITTAIN (CONT’D)

If you can’t show me the respect I

deserve, then at least show some

for our guests!

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Their faces are close, Vera’s pent-up anger and hurt almost

bursting out.

VERA:

I don’t want a piano. You knew I

didn’t want one and still you

bought it! I won’t be bullied by

you!

Mr. Brittain turns to his wife, looking incredulous.

MR. BRITTAIN

I buy her the most expensive gift

of her life, but no, I’m bullying

her!

MRS. BRITTAIN

Your father hoped you’d be happy,

dear

VERA:

That piano could pay for a whole

year at Oxford!

MR. BRITTAIN

Ah, here we go again!

VERA:

(bursting)

All this time you said you couldn’t

afford for me to go!

MR. BRITTAIN

I can’t afford to waste money, no!

Vera glowers at him in speechless fury - turns and STOMPS

upstairs.

He glances at his wife, who gives him an admonishing look

MR. BRITTAIN

Vera - I didn’t mean - VERA! Come

back here!

MRS BRITTAIN:

Oh dear. (to Mrs Ellinger) I do

apologise...

11A INT. VERA’S BEDROOM, BUXTON - A SECOND LATER 11A

Vera is in her room, looking round for an outlet for her fury

and frustration

She sees a pile of papers on her desk, covered in her

scrawled hand writing, and a small pile of books - she

gathers up the whole lot, marches over to the window, chucks

it all out -

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11B INT. HALLWAY - SAME TIME 11B

Edward is starting up the stairs after Vera, when they hear

the thud of objects falling - - they turn to see, through the

open doorway behind them, a shower of papers floating down to

the ground.

Mr. Brittain groans in exasperation. Vera charges back down

the stairs.

VERA:

I’ve thrown my work out, you can

take it to your factory and pulp it

for all I care!

MR BRITTAIN:

Now stop it! I’m simply concerned

you’re turning yourself into a

bluestocking, because they don’t

find husbands!

VERA:

I don’t want a husband!

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