Audrey Rose

(tyres screech)

(musical interlude)

(school bell)

- Ivy!

- Hi, Mom.

Hi, sweetheart. (she laughs)

Oh...

Hey, Mom, two tests again, both in math.

They popped one on us.

Can you believe it?

You're kidding?

No warning at all?

No, they didn't.

Come on, sweetie.

Hello, George.

No, Paris. Well, at least

that's what Jennifer told Peter.

By the way, dear Jill O'Connor

says she's started to... you know what.

- No, what?

- Menstruate.

- She's only nine. Do you believe it?

- No, I think she's a fibber.

- She's a liar.

- I didn't say that.

Girls like Jill just like to fantasise.

Hey.

- How about a Coke?

- I'll have it later.

OK.

Oh, lvy, don't forget

to hang your coat on a chair.

Oh, all right.

(lock turns)

- Open up.

- Bill...

Oh!

- Hey, what is it? You're shaking.

- It's just the weather.

You're home early. Well,

I'll get a glass chilling for your martini.

- Oh, don't mention that word, please.

- Another one of those days?

- Yeah, another one of those lunches.

- Oh...

- I gotta lie down, Janice.

- You've got an hour.

Carole and Russ are coming for dinner.

With their aunt.

- Oh, sh*t.

- I'm sorry.

No, no.

- Hiya, princess.

- Hi, Daddy.

- I found out.

- What?

Mom...

- Mom likes cameras, right?

- Right.

I was walking with her

past a camera store

and I saw her looking

at this real long lens.

It's so neat.

It's got all these little dinkies on it.

- Little dinkies like that.

- Yeah?

When can we buy it?

- Well, it's an awful long way to Christmas.

- Yeah.

But your birthday's next week.

Have you made up your mind yet?

Yeah, but I'm not gonna tell you.

- All right...

- Surprise me.

(she giggles)

The Hotel des Artistes,

built by artistes for artistes.

What the hell are we doing here?

I don't know about you,

but I have hidden depths.

Mezzo, mezzo.

(she moans)

(she cries out)

Excuse me.

We've got to go, Bill. Come along, Aunt.

Ivy. Ivy.

Ivy. Sweetie.

It's Mommy.

- Oh, Mom, it was awful.

- What was awful?

I don't know.

I can't remember.

Well, it was just a dream.

- Yeah, a dream.

- Mm-hm.

Mom, I don't feel well.

- You don't seem to have a fever.

- Darn.

But I think we'll keep you home

from school tomorrow anyway.

I love you.

Oh, I love you too.

Bill...

Something strange happened today.

There was a man outside school.

Bill?

(Bill) He has reddish-brown hair,

pale blue eyes, he's about 5'8, 5'9.

A beard, rather a full beard. Kind of

a weird, spaced-out look about him.

(man) Well, when did you first notice him?

A couple of weeks ago. I spotted him

on the bus. I was going home.

He looked rather familiar,

like I'd seen him somewhere before.

The next day,

he was in the elevator where I work.

Where's that?

386 Madison Avenue. I'm a partner

in Simmons Templeton Advertising.

- Well, maybe he works there too.

- No.

Now I see him every morning

when I take my daughter to school.

- Has this person ever battered you?

- Battered me?

Has he come into

purposeful bodily contact with you?

Has he hit you? Has he pushed you?

No, nothing like that.

Unless there's evidence of assault and

battery, there's very little we can do here.

What do I do? What? Do I shove him,

push him, provoke him?

Get the son of a b*tch to hit me? What

does it take to get you to do something?

Look, Mr Templeton, I'm sorry,

but there's no law that says

that people can't be on the city streets

wherever and whenever they'd like to be.

- I got one.

- OK.

Look, Mom, "slaughter".

- Oh! That's good.

- 13.

(phone rings)

Be right back.

No peeking at my pieces.

Hello?

- Hello?

- (man) Is she all right?

- Bill?

- I didn't see lvy at school this morning.

- Is she all right?

- (phone clicks)

(dead line)

- 89, 90. Ten. Thank you.

- Thank you.

- You've gotta give me another ten.

- What do you mean?

- You gave me a $10 bill.

- I gave you $20.

- You just gave me a ten. Look.

- Mister, I only had a $20 bill in my wallet.

You probably misread the bill.

Can you see the register?

Hey. What's the matter with you?

(goods knocked over)

It's so beautiful.

It's fantastic. I love it.

- Thank you.

- Hey. What?

What's so fantastic? Well, now.

- Where did you find this?

- On top of the worktops, where you put it.

- What's going on?

- Daddy bought me a purse.

I found the package in the groceries

with my name on it.

- Oh, it's gorgeous, Bill.

- Yeah.

It's the first grown-up present

I've ever gotten.

And the colours are just like

the paintings in the ceiling. I love it.

- You didn't buy the purse.

- No.

He did. That man.

- How long have you known about him?

- Oh, my God, Bill. It's lvy he's after.

- Why do you say that?

- Well, the way he looks at her.

And this morning he called just to see

how she was. And now the purse.

Oh, Bill, please, let's call the police.

I went to them already.

Honey, there's nothing they can do

unless he draws blood.

(door buzzer)

- Morning.

- Morning, Mrs Templeton.

It's a clipping from Who's Who.

Hoover, Elliot Suggens. PhD. Metallurgist.

Born London, England. Educated

King's College, University of London,

Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

Wife, Sylvia Flora. Daughter, Audrey Rose.

Vice president, Unified Steel Corporation,

Pittsburgh. Writer. Lecturer.

- Published numerous articles.

- Take it to the police.

It's not enough.

All it is is a couple of facts about his life.

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