1 SUMMER. POSY DRAWING 1
2 EXT. DAY. STONEFIELD - THE GROUNDS. 2
Andy Cobb, early thirties, is digging an English garden inthe hot sun. He is lean, naked to the waist. It’s hard to
tell which century he inhabits. Only when he stops to drinkfrom a plastic bottle do we realise he is of our time.
And love slipped the bonds ofrestraint...
At a table under a willow tree sits Tess - early fifties,
funky specs - at a laptop. She pauses in her typing, staringat Andy.
His touch was like a cosmic ‘yes’.
Underneath a converted barn, cross-legged on a bench in abikini top, sits Eustacia. She is hunched over a note pad,
writing at tremendous speed, oblivious to all but her work.
‘Fuck you,’ screamed Kelly, ‘Fuckyou to hell!’ Scott stepped back
from the cell door as the gob ofspit flew.’
1A INT. DAY. GLEN’S ROOM. 1A
Sitting at a barn window is American academic Glen McCreavy ;
a physically awkward man, more at home with his intellectthan his body. He is surrounded by foolscap, post-it notes,
books and markers - dominated by a poster of a dour Victorian- Thomas Hardy. He is writing. *
This complex contemporary matrix iswhat Hardy meant by ‘the ache of
He regards it. *
He deletes it. He looks at his blank screen, breathingdeeply. The only words left say ‘Chapter Six’.
Inchcombe had seen it all before.
He’d seasoned it: the metallic
smell of blood and gunshot;
forensics hunched like vultures.
The dreadful mundanity of murder,
GOLDENROD REVISIONS 20.10.09 2.
3 INT. DAY. STONEFIELD - NICHOLAS’ SHED. 3
Nicholas Hardiment writes fluidly with pencil and paper. A
good-looking man of fifty. Dark hair, strong figure.
He approached Patel, who was
stricken. She was one for whom a
corpse was still an obscenity.
Inchcombe realised a disturbing
truth. His lack of feeling was
(He stops writing. Sighs)
4 EXT. DAY. EWEDOWN - THE PLAYGROUND. 4
A playground on the edge of an idyllic English village. Jody
Long - fourteen, skinny, restless - is lying at the bottom of
the slide gazing at the clouds. Casey Shaw, her shy, placid
best friend, is sitting on a toddler toy, reading aloud from
‘I’ve been wearing the wrong size
all my life,’ said Katie. ‘I was
always popping out. Turns out I’m a
30GG,’ she says. ‘Now my bras
finally fit - though Simon prefers
me without one.’
Jody checks to see if her breasts have grown. She sighs.
4A INT. DAY. KITCHEN. 4A
A woman in an upmarket apron is taking a tray of scones and
biscuits out of the aga. It’s Beth Hardiment. Once pretty,
she’s now mumsy and countrified.
She examines her baking, satisfied with its perfection.
Mary, the help, is doing the washing-up.
Do you think I should be reminding
them to drink enough? It’s very hot
Beth - they’re writers, not babies.
You run round after ‘em too much.
GOLDENROD REVISIONS 20.10.09 3.
5 EXT. DAY. STONEFIELD - THE GROUNDS. 5
Glen walks outside, breathing in the fresh air. Beth
approaches with her tray of scones and biscuits.
Can I tempt you, Glen?
Glen picks up a scone.
I often take something snacky down
to Nicholas at this time of day. I
know how the brain needs feeding.
How are you settling in?
Great. The last writer’s retreat I
stayed at kind of froze my balls off,
Screeching firedoors, curried
lasagne and a needy poet - from whom
I still bear the scars.