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REG.NO.9020. CHAMELEONS Neil Molloy EXT. HOUSING ESTATE. AFTERNOON. Clear skies envelop a featureless landscape of neat, but characterless, brick dwellings built over siphoned swampland during the industrial boom of the sixties and seventies. The houses are different yet all look the same. Age has not treated them well. Orderly stacks of household hard rubbish populate the nature strips. TIFFANY is singing. Her voice carries out in the street as she attempts an old standard. She can sing in tune but can't quite get the style of the singers who made it famous. INT. SUBURBAN HOUSE. KITCHEN. AFTERNOON. Tiffany, late twenties, is short, slight and frumpy, yet she still has a curious appeal. TED, a small scruffy mutt is perched on the kitchen table. She holds his head and talks to him close. TIFFANY Well Ted? Did I pass? Having obviously passed the toughest of auditions, Tiffany kisses Ted's nose, picks him up and places him on the floor. TIFFANY (cont'd) Seeing as you've been such a good audience, we'll have an early walkies. Ted reacts to the magic word and bounds out of the room. INT. TIFFANY'S HALLWAY. Ted waits anxiously at the front door. Tiffany arrives slipping on a long black coat and white beanie. She clips on Ted's lead and they step out of the door. EXT. SUBURBAN ST. DUSK. The piles of broken and unwanted household goods form neat piles along the nature strips. Two ELDERLY CYCLISTS cruise slowly past on pre-war looking bicycles. They are rugged-up and sheepishly retract their heads into their jackets. Tiffany and Ted skip across the road and enter another street. EXT. ADJOINING ST. DUSK. Further along, Tiffany's attention is taken up by a grubby, wooden, pink padded, double bed-head, entangled amongst other scrap. Leaning against the headboard are the two unattached supporting struts. Casting a sly eye around her, she momentarily inspects before continuing on. A few steps further on, she doubles back and retraces her footsteps. Another peek followed by a quick cursory glance around her, she and Ted pick up their stride and hurry home. EXT. SUBURBAN ST. NIGHT. Tiffany, without Ted, and in the same black coat but now sporting a black beanie, scurries across the road. EXT. SCRAP HEAP. NIGHT. After tentatively looking about her, Tiffany ungainly clambers over the heap to the bed head. Trying desperately not to create too much noise, she untangles it, lifts it clear and after placing it against a fence, gingerly returns for the struts. With the struts under one arm and the headboard under the other, she struggles along the footpath, timbers wavering scissor fashion under her wing. INT. KITCHEN. SUBURBAN HOUSE. NIGHT. Small tins of undercoat and paint along with brushes and tools sit on newspaper covering a kitchen table. Ted watches attentively as Tiffany sandpapers the deteriorated timber surrounds of the headboard. FADE TO: Tiffany is standing on a chair rummaging in the top cupboards for nuts and bolts. FADE TO: Enthusiastic scrubbing of the pink padded vinyl. A final wipe down and a dip of the brush in the paint. FADE TO: INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. NIGHT. China ornaments, knick-knacks and framed snaps of various pets and family, are displayed in an orderly fashion throughout the small room. Tiffany is on the phone, sprawled across the settee with Ted. TIFFANY No, I don't want to spoil the surprise. I want you to come over...now...right away. (a pause, then a victorious smile) See you soon. INT. HALLWAY. The doorbell rings and with a half-hearted bark, Ted rushes out of the lounge-room, followed by Tiffany. After switching on the porch light, Tiffany opens the front door to her sister FAYE, a solidly built woman, a couple of years her senior and if not for an officious countenance, quite pretty with a penchant for cheap, garish, costume jewelry. She barges her way down the hallway. FAYE This had better be worthwhile, I'm missing my boxing. She peers into the lounge room. FAYE(cont'd) Well, where is it? Whatever it is? TIFFANY In the kitchen. Stay where you are. Tiffany slides past Faye with a triumphant air as she opens the kitchen door and beckons her through. INT. KITCHEN. NIGHT. TIFFANY Dah daa! Faye stares at the freshly painted, glistening red headboard, propped up against the cupboards. She moves slowly towards it. TIFFANY (cont'd) Don't touch, It's still wet. FAYE Alright! I'm not... TIFFANY. ...What do you reckon? Faye scornfully turns her head towards Tiffany. FAYE Tiffany! You've got to be joking. Its bloody awful. Its padded. TIFFANY. So? FAYE I hate pads. Tiffanys' world is collapsing. TIFFANY It's not new. It's sort of secondhand. It's a present. FAYE I don't care if it belonged to the Queen. It's hideous... TIFFANY. No, it's not... FAYE ...can you imagine how that would clash with my built-ins? TIFFANY You don't like it!? FAYE Oh, come on Tiffany, I suffer enough nightmares as it is without waking up to that monstrosity. TIFFANY. It's not a monster..! FAYE ...other people's cast offs. TIFFANY. Now what am I supposed to do with it? Faye turns to the door. FAYE Take it back. Tell 'em it didn't fit your bed and you want your money back. INT. HALLWAY. NIGHT. Tiffany reluctantly follows her sister out of the kitchen. TIFFANY I didn't buy it. FAYE Thank God for that. TIFFANY. I found it in the next street...on a junk pile. Faye swings around. FAYE You what?! You bloody cheapskate! Now I am insulted. Faye looks up to the clock. FAYE (cont'd) Listen, I can't hang around here, the wrestling starts in ten minutes. TIFFANY What am I gonna do with it now? I've only got a single. FAYE Chuck it on your heap, with the rest of your junk. TIFFANY What if the people come past and see it? They'll think I stole it. FAYE You did. TIFFANY It wouldn't be stealing if it's already been thrown out...Would it!? FAYE Six months...four with good behaviour. TIFFANY. C'mon, tell me. FAYE Your problem. I'm off. I'll see myself out. The front door slams. A sleepy Ted totters up the hallway. TIFFANY Come on Ted. You tell me what I've gotta do. EXT. ADJOINING STREET. NIGHT. The shadowy figure of Tiffany struggles down the road with the fully assembled, double bed head. She pauses every now and then to gather herself. Stopping outside the house where she originally found the booty, She nervously looks around her before leaning the fully assembled bed-head, upright against the other debris and scampering off. EXT. SCRAP HEAP. NEXT MORNING. The front door of the bed head house opens and a YOUNG WOMAN, dressed, business fashion, kisses her husband DARYL goodbye. Daryl is still in his slippers and dressing gown. The young woman walks towards the front gate and turns for a final wave. Opening the gate her eyes lock on to the bed head. She stares, arms folded, in disbelief before turning back to her husband who's turning to go inside. YOUNG WOMAN Dar-yl! Daryl shuffles down the path and stands perplexed. She looks to him for answers. Each try and fathom out this small miracle. The young woman continues on to work while Daryl stands mesmerised at the heap, shaking his head before turning and shuffling back up the path to his door. EXT. ADJOINING STREET. MOMENTS LATER. Striding with an upright stance and a precise step towards the rubbish stack is HADLEY, a tall, dark haired, wafer thin, dapper, clean shaven gentleman. The bed-head catches his attention as he passes. Appearing disinterested, he continues on his way only to spin around and double back. Standing by the stack, he surveys his immediate surroundings, then tucks the bed-head under his arm and sheepishly takes off in the direction he came from. EXT. OUTSIDE HADLEY'S HOUSE. MORNING. Hadley hurries up his pathway and leans the headboard against a wall, out of sight. He lopes off down back the street. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. EVENING. Tiffany is on the phone. The TV is tuned to 'Wheel of Fortune'. TIFFANY She's got to look glamorous. It would look stupid if she spun the letters in her "trackies". INT. FAYE'S LOUNGE ROOM. EVENING. An identical lounge suite to Tiffany's sits in a gaudy jumble. Faye, TV tuned to the same program, clasps the receiver with gobstopper ringed fingers. FAYE No, that's not what I said. I said, when she first started she wore normal...you know...shortish dresses with just a small split. Now the splits go up to her bloody armpits. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. TIFFANY Well, that's what the audiences like. FAYE (O.S.) It's what the TV bosses like. They're all bloody men...all bloody sex starved. TIFFANY Did you get anything in the mail for Neighborhood Watch...the meeting? FAYE (O.S.) Yeah, but there's no point in me going anymore. I've got this computer alarm installed. The toothy TV compere is showing off the holiday prize to the gushing, winning contestant. FAYE (O.S.) (cont'd) I could have done with that. I deserve a bloody holiday...with some Sugardaddy. Somewhere away from it all, somewhere tropical, with waiters. TIFFANY Sugardaddy! You'd still get bored. (the penny drops) Just because you've got a new alarm doesn't mean you can't look out for your neighbours. FAYE (O.S.) Nobody ever looks out for me. I'd be over checking their houses and they'd be over here robbing mine. TIFFANY You'll miss the special guest. There's this policeman coming...a big wig. He's giving an important speech. Should be very interesting. FAYE (O.S.) Just don't mention the bed-head. EXT. OUTSIDE HADLEY'S HOUSE. EVENING. Hadley arrives at his front gate, retrieves a solitary letter from his mail box, tears it open and reads with interest. EXT. MUNICIPAL HALL. NIGHT. It's a cold night. Rugged up and hunched over, people file in the entrance. Tiffany arrives in her long black overcoat and white beanie and joins the queue. INT. MUNICIPAL HALL. Consistent with the exterior, the interior offers little solace. Multi-coloured plastic chairs in long rows. Most seats are filled as Tiffany shuffles in. Casting her eye across the room she spots a solitary empty seat, at the far end of an aisle. Excusing herself as a variety of knees impede her progress, she only has Hadley to pass. However she misjudges, stumbles and falls to the floor. Hadley, now sporting a full beard, helps her up and assists her to the seat next to his. An acutely embarrassed Tiffany sits down. TIFFANY I'm so sorry. I lost my balance...sorry. He replies in a rich and precise manner. HADLEY You're not hurt? TIFFANY No, I'm okay...really. (nervous chuckle) Just my pride...are you okay? HADLEY Fine. It's just that I'm not accustomed to having women fall at my feet. She offers a twittery giggle. At this point the thin, bespectacled, AREA COORDINATOR of Neighbourhood Watch, taps a ruler on a table. Seated behind him are THREE COMMITTEE MEMBERS and to his side is the veteran, uniformed police officer, Superintendant LANCE COCKBURN. AREA COORDINATOR May I have your attention please. A hush. AREA COORDINATOR (cont'd) Firstly, I would like to thank you all for your attendance tonight on this very special occasion. Special, as it's the fifteenth anniversary of the formation... A small chorus of poorly synchronized happy birthdays. AREA COORDINATOR (cont'd) ...from very humble beginnings, of the Bellevue Lakes Neighbourhood Watch Association. I would also like to thank all members of our committee as well as our tireless zone leaders for their ongoing support to this vital community fight-back scheme. We the committee trust you will leave this meeting better informed, better equipped and feeling more secure in your homes. But just as importantly, to leave with smiles on your faces after listening to our distinguished guest's endless puns and anecdotes. Laughter from the crowd. Tiffany turns to Hadley with a chuckle. He nods back. AREA COORDINATOR (cont'd) So without further ado...Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm delighted to welcome, our guest speaker for tonight. Give a big hand for Superintendant, Lance COCK-burn. Applause for Lance as he grips the edge of the table, raises his large frame and waddles his way to the front. He removes his cap to reveal a full head of silver grey hair covering a ruddy round face. He scans the crowd through seasoned, piggy eyes. LANCE COCKBURN (well worn explanation) Yes, it might be spelt C-O-C-K. But it's pronounced COH-BURN. I promise you all, I've never caught anything that burned. A few scattered titters as the red faced Area Coordinator scampers back and whips the mike away from the superintendant. AREA COORDINATOR (sweating) Let's give a big hand for Superintendant, Lance COH..buuurrrn. Handing him back the mike, the Area Coordinator slinks back to his chair. The Superintendent props himself at the podium. LANCE COCKBURN It's a great honour to be here tonight to share with you the experience I've accumulated over a long distinguished career in your wonderful police force, a force that has no equal in this great State of ours. We pride ourselves in remaining vigilant at all times, protecting you and your property... EXT. MUNICIPAL HALL. NIGHT. A POLICEMAN sits in a police car close to the hall entry. The policeman is asleep, snoring with his mouth open. Lance's muffled voice is heard faintly. A group of TEENAGERS ride by on bicycles without lights and stop. They look at the hall, contemplating mischief. The teenagers ride into the carpark and skid around between the cars before riding up to the entrance and dismounting. One teenager stands in front of the police car, gesturing to the other of the sleeping policeman while the others get spray cans out of their pockets and begin to spray their tags onto the hall. INT. MUNICIPAL HALL. NIGHT. Lance is winding up his speech. LANCE COCKBURN ...so, in closing, I must emphasise that our typical housebreakers and home invaders are not necessarily your tattooed, long-haired skinheads, but could be any one of you ordinary looking people in this room and I don't mean just the men but any one of you ladies as well. So lock up your daughters...I mean, your houses and stay alert... More titters from the crowd. Tiffany, gushing, turns to a more subdued Hadley. TIFFANY. They said he was going to be funny. Hadley smiles and nods. LANCE COCKBURN ...and so, that brings my stretch on this platform to an end. You've been a lovely audience and I'll now hand you back to your area coordinator. I'll be happy to answer any of your questions. Make it snappy though...the missus is probably home beating off burglars. Laughter as the Area Coordinator steps up and vigorously shakes Lance's hand whilst grasping the microphone. Tiffany, cackling away, turns again to Hadley who again smiles back. AREA CO-ORDINATOR Thank you ladies and gentlemen. Now, a big hand for Superintendant Cohh..buuuurn. A big applause for Lance. AREA CO-ORDINATOR (cont'd) If you have any questions to ask the Super..? (scanning the crowd) ...don't be bashful. Speak up. GERALD, a scrawny bespectacled little man waves his arm frantically. AREA CO-ORDINATOR (cont'd) Yes, Gerald!! GERALD If I am faced with a home invader and I wish to evict him from my property, how much force can I muster before it is declared an assault? Lance eases his ample frame up and again whips the microphone from the Area Coordinator. LANCE COCKBURN A good question. Reasonable force is acceptable. However a swift baseball bat to the nether regions maybe considered a little excessive. Hedge pruners are more my style... Guffaws. LANCE COCKBURN (cont'd) Seriously folks, each case would have to be dealt with on an individual basis. Hadley stands up. The Area Coordinator points to him. AREA CO-ORDINATOR The gentleman over there... Lance, still bristling from his own perceived witticism, grabs the mic again. His eyes lock on to Hadley and his smile momentarily wavers. HADLEY What precautions do you recommend us householders take to protect our valuables such as heirlooms or say... (momentary pause with a hand gesture) ...precious stones? Should we secure them in a safe deposit box where we are unable to enjoy or admire them at leisure..? Lance desperately attempts to maintain composure, shifting from foot to foot and flexing his chubby fingers. HADLEY (cont'd) ...Or do you have any suggestions as to where they may be stored securely within the household where they are readily accessible without the fear of larceny? He promptly sits down. Tiffany leans towards him and whispers. TIFFANY. Good question. LANCE COCKBURN Safe deposit box. Next. Hadley, hand raised, quickly leaps to his feet again. HADLEY Just another question sir. What guarantees can you offer that stolen goods, subsequently recovered by the police, will be returned in full to their rightful owners? Hadley sits back down. Lance is losing his battle to remain unruffled. LANCE COCKBURN As I stated earlier, our State Police Force is widely known for its utmost integrity. EXT. MUNICIPAL HALL. CAR PARK. NIGHT. The teenagers quickly remount their bicycles and ride away as the policeman continues snoring. INT. MUNICIPAL HALL. NIGHT. Lance scans for another hand. Hadley rises once again. HADLEY That's not what I asked, sir. My question was. What guarantees are..? Lance immediately points to another raised hand. LANCE COCKBURN Yes? Hadley sits down and shrugs at Tiffany. INT. MUNICIPAL HALL. LATER Tea and cakes are displayed on a long trestle at the rear of the hall. People mingle with each other in idle chatter. Tiffany, holding a plastic cup, is at one end of the table painstakingly selecting from a small variety of tea cakes. Lance, at the other end, is the centre of attention. Hadley, biting from a cake and sipping tea, nonchalantly wanders past Lance. Lance is fully aware of his presence but continues guffawing regardless. Hadley turns and meanders back towards Tiffany. Lance turns away from his group and eyes him intently. Hadley sidles up to her. HADLEY I trust that is only tea you're drinking. Startled, she nearly spills it before they both give a polite chuckle. TIFFANY. Oh, I hope so. Who knows what they put in that urn? More polite chuckles. HADLEY Did you find the discussion advantageous? TIFFANY. (oh so formal) Yes, very...your questions were very...um...to the point. HADLEY Thank you. TIFFANY. It was most interesting. The Superintendant was so funny. What about yourself? HADLEY Stimulating...an interesting insight into the criminal mind and I may add, some useful tips on guarding one's property from unwelcome visitors. Tiffany nods in agreement. TIFFANY. You can never be too careful, I always say. HADLEY Quite true. He casts a sly look towards Lance and turns back to Tiffany. Lance instinctively looks sideways towards him. HADLEY (cont'd) (stretching out his hand) I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. Hadley...Hadley Farquhar. Tiffany coyly shakes his hand. TIFFANY. That's an interesting name. Kind of, well...interesting. HADLEY And you are? TIFFANY. Oh yes, of course. I'm Tiffany...Spriggs. His eyes widen but he immediately regains decorum. HADLEY Tiffany...Tiffany. He pauses for breath. HADLEY (cont'd) I could not envisage a sweeter name. It conjures up images of... His hands dance. HADLEY (cont'd) ...exquisite jewelry. TIFFANY. My mum's favourite film. "Breakfast at Tiffany's". HADLEY Of course. Tell her she chose well. TIFFANY. Oh no, Mum died eight years ago. HADLEY I'm so sorry. TIFFANY. Same year as my Dad. Mum always called me Tiff though, except when she was angry, then it was TIF-FAN-Y. HADLEY I see. TIFFANY. Faye always calls me by my full name. But she's always angry. He again looks towards Lance and back to her. HADLEY Faye!? TIFFANY. My older sister. She lives in Gum Close. Do you know it? HADLEY No, no...I'm new to this area. Do you live nearby? TIFFANY. Near my sister. What about you? He's starting to look uncomfortable. HADLEY Just off the main road. TIFFANY. Wattle Avenue? HADLEY Y..yes. Not far from um... ..did you walk here? He looks up again to see Lance start to make a move away from the group. LANCE COCKBURN (waving) Goodnight all. A chorus of farewells from the gathering as Lance heads towards the exit. Hadley is edgy. He turns to Tiffany. HADLEY Excuse me for one moment. He turns and follows Lance trying not to appear hurried. Tiffany looks on, slightly confused, and then reaches back to the table and selects another cake. EXT. MUNICIPAL HALL. CAR PARK. NIGHT. The policeman is opening the passenger door of the police car for Lance. Looking up, Lance fixates on Hadley, now casually leaning against the building. Lance snarls across. LANCE COCKBURN You're early. Lance lowers himself into the car and the policeman gets in the driving position. Amidst the strains of banal country music, the car roars away. 'Let sleeping PIGS lie' is stylishly applied to the rear in graffiti. Hadley, remaining cool, smirks as he goes back inside. INT. MUNICIPAL HALL. Tiffany looks up as Hadley arrives by her side. TIFFANY. Yes. HADLEY Sorry? TIFFANY. (munching) In answer to your question...yes...I don't drive a car. HADLEY Well, I'm on foot too. Perhaps you would allow me to escort you home Tiffany, especially in light of the invaluable information we've received tonight. TIFFANY. It's okay, I'm not scared of... (what am I saying) HADLEY ...I think it's wise, don't you? TIFFANY. I suppose you're right. It would be wise. That's very kind of you, Hadley. EXT. LANE WAY. NIGHT. The pair idly chatter, Tiffany, two steps to Hadley's one, as they saunter down the lane in the breathy, cold night air. HADLEY The way you describe your sister suggests to me that you are a single woman. TIFFANY. (well rehearsed giggling response) I suppose I've never met anyone who could match my standards. HADLEY I can well understand. TIFFANY. And you Hadley? I can't imagine you still being a single man? HADLEY Alas Tiffany, to be quite truthful my lifestyle has not offered me the opportunity of securing a suitable soulmate to settle down with. TIFFANY. Why? What do you do? (checking herself) Sorry, busy-body me. HADLEY I'm a hotelier. TIFFANY. You've got a pub!? HADLEY Not quite. A city hotel. International accommodation, that sort of thing. TIFFANY. (all bubbly) That would be like being on holidays every day. (checking herself again) Now I'm being silly. HADLEY No, you're not. TIFFANY And what do you do in there exactly? HADLEY Do what exactly? He doesn't look comfortable. TIFFANY. In your job? HADLEY Oh, I see. I manage it. TIFFANY. You're a manager. Really! That must be a lot of responsibility, all those rooms and linen and... He jumps in. HADLEY ...and you Tiffany? You work? TIFFANY. Yes, at a nursing home. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a nurse or anything...I'm in admin, but sometimes they call me to help out with the oldies...old people that is...I don't mind, I've got a first aid certificate and that. They arrive at Tiffany's gate. TIFFANY. (cont'd) Well, this is where I live. Me and Ted. He's my dog...he's seven. He peers over the fence into a blackened landscape. HADLEY You take pride in your garden? TIFFANY. Not as much as I'd like. He squeezes out a laboured laugh. HADLEY Well, Tiffany, I must say, I have enjoyed the pleasure of your company. Thank you. TIFFANY. It's me who should be thanking you. (chuckling) You've protected me from all those beasts lurking round. Hadley chuckles with her. HADLEY No doubt our paths will cross again. Tiffany nods. TIFFANY. Goodnight Hadley and thank you again. HADLEY Goodnight Tiffany and my regards to Ted. A girly giggle as she walks up her path. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. NIGHT. Tiffany with Ted sprawled across her lap is sitting on the couch talking on the phone while simultaneously watching the tennis on TV. TIFFANY. He wasn't trying to frighten us. He said that it's a good thing to have an alarm but if they really want to get into your house, they're gonna get in anyway. INT. FAYE'S LOUNGE ROOM. Faye is slouched in a lounge chair, a glass of port in one hand, the phone in the other. A half empty bottle sits on a side table. She too has her eyes on the tennis. FAYE Yeah, but they won't be counting on me waiting behind the door with a tub of boiling oil. (eyes on the TV) Just look at the size of her thighs! TIFFANY (O.S.) You can talk! FAYE At least mine have got a shape. Hers are like wheat silos. TIFFANY (O.S.) Your alarm won't stop burglars actually getting in. FAYE This new one will, it's a computer one...top of the line. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. TIFFANY. All it does is make a bigger noise...and rings for longer (eyes on the tennis) Oh! I didn't think she'd reach that. (smugly) Guess what? You'll never guess. I got walked home by a very nice man tonight. FAYE (O.S.) How much did you pay him? TIFFANY. Nothing. He offered. He's a hotelier. FAYE (O.S.) He'd be loaded. TIFFANY. A big hotel hotelier, not a pub hotelier. In the city...he's a manager. FAYE (O.S.) And why would someone like that offer to bring you home? TIFFANY. I told him I wasn't scared of the dark, but he insisted...a real gentleman. INT. FAYE'S LOUNGE ROOM. FAYE That's the oldest trick in the book, Tiffany. Jesus! They could've been dredging the swamps with sniffer dogs and you'd only have your own self to blame. (eyes to the TV) Hey, that's Steffi in the crowd...with the hat... TIFFANY. (O.S.) ...and Martina... (pause) He liked my garden. FAYE What's so special about your garden? TIFFANY. (O.S.) At least I've got one. FAYE Listen, I've said my piece. Now lets finish watching this. TIFFANY. (O.S.) He's nice looking. FAYE Definitely counts you out. TIFFANY. (O.S.) He said I remind him of expensive jewels. FAYE My God, he's a sicko. Either that or he's got a Labrador and a white stick. What sort of a sleaze ball is this guy? Where does he live?! I'll bloody fix him! I'll go round and damage his marriage prospects...if he isn't already bloody married... TIFFANY. ...He's single... FAYE ...Bull! That'd be it. A married man. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. TIFFANY. He said with the type of life he's had, he's never had time to find the right girl. FAYE (O.S.) He still hasn't. (eyes on the tennis) She should have got that one easy. That's what happens when you're muscle bound. (pause) Did he ask you out? A date? TIFFANY. Not officially, but he did say he hoped our paths will cross again. FAYE (O.S.) Not quite the same thing though, is it? Tiffany ponders for a while. TIFFANY. I'm going to bed, I've got to get up in the morning. Na..night. Tiffany hangs up. Ted stirs. TIFFANY. (cont'd) Come on Ted, come and do wee wees. INT. POLICE STATION. A small, sleepy station, two female clerks in civvies share an equipment laden desk, while a male uniformed officer sits typing in the corner. At the front counter, a MIDDLE AGED MAN stands idly watching a FEMALE OFFICER struggle to turn a large map towards him. MIDDLE AGED MAN Other way up. FEMALE OFFICER No it's not. MIDDLE AGED MAN North's upwards. FEMALE OFFICER Not always. Through a glassed partition and twirling a pencil, sits a uniformed Lance, a phone propped between a double chin and a shoulder. LANCE COCKBURN ...about a week...wouldn't be much more... Pausing to listen, he nervously taps the pencil, breaking the lead point. Scrambling for another he grabs a pen from a drawer and rapidly scribbles on the edge of a document. He leans back in his ample chair. LANCE COCKBURN (cont'd) ...I owe you Lenny. Listen, give one to Pauline for me... (listening for a response) Or three. He roars a lecherous laugh. LANCE COCKBURN (cont'd) You're a sick boy Lenny...good on yer mate. He hangs up and immediately resumes a sober disposition. LANCE COCKBURN (cont'd) Got you...you bastard. He gets up hurriedly, grabbing the document and singing vaguely from 'Some Enchanted Evening' as he enters reception. LANCE COCKBURN (cont'd) Once I have found you, I'll never let you go. EXT. TIFFANY'S FRONT GARDEN. MORNING. Tiffany, in rubber boots, dungarees and topped with a floppy khaki hat, pushes a large mower. On the other side of the road, an immaculately casual Hadley, minus the beard, darts across and tentatively creeps along the path until he catches sight of her. Nonchalantly picking up his pace, he feigns surprise when she looks up. Tiffany reacts as if she's seen a ghost. Hadley shouts above the mower. HADLEY Lovely morning, Tiffany! In a flap, she yanks her hat off exposing a wild hair arrangement before promptly tugging it back on again. She struggles to stop the mower revving furiously, finally succeeding in quelling it. TIFFANY. Huh..Hi! HADLEY I've just come back from the swamps... Tiffany emits a frightened squawk, before cupping her mouth. HADLEY (cont'd) ...or wetlands as they call them now. I've been observing some very interesting wildlife...wood ducks...frogs...moorhens. I must take binoculars and perhaps a picnic basket next time. Make a day of it. He anxiously awaits a bite. HADLEY (cont'd) Are you interested in wildlife, Tiffany? She jolts back to life, heads towards a nearby tap and frantically scrubs her hands. TIFFANY. (flapping about) No..no..I'm not really interested much in swamp...ah, wildlife or any kind of life...except my own...and other peoples... HADLEY A pity. I thought you might liked to have joined me...Perhaps a picnic somewhere else? TIFFANY. I'm not sure. She wanders back to the mower. HADLEY Tomorrow...if you're free? Tiffany is unsure. She removes the catcher. She walks towards him and sprinkles the grass cuttings around the fence perimeter. She looks up. TIFFANY. What have you done with your beard? HADLEY (chuckling) Put it back in the drawer...for next winter. She turns and puts the catcher back on the mower. TIFFANY. I go to church tomorrow. HADLEY All day? She's frantically trying to attach the catcher. TIFFANY. It starts at eleven. It goes for a long while... (shut up Tiffany) ...well, not that long. HADLEY Perhaps I could join you? TIFFANY. It may not be your type of church though. She picks up a rake and levels the grass cuttings. HADLEY I'm not necessarily of any religious persuasion, though I pride myself on retaining an open mind. Tiffany appears a little more at ease. HADLEY (cont'd) (plaintively) Is it far away? She stands supported by the rake. TIFFANY. Quite a way. HADLEY How about I pick you up? (rapidly) I..I have a car. TIFFANY. I usually go with my sister...in her car. HADLEY Look, I don't wish to tread on any toes. TIFFANY. ...No..no, I'll tell her I've got a lift. HADLEY Fine. What time would you like me to come by? TIFFANY. Say...um...about ten thirty?! HADLEY Ten thirty it is. I'll look forward to seeing you then. TIFFANY. (a little gushing wave) Bye. Hadley waves a quaint goodbye and lopes off down the road. Tiffany stands watching after him like the cat who swallowed the cream. EXT. FOOTPATH ON BUSY HIGHWAY. AFTERNOON. A small car yard that could be easily mistaken for a scrap metal merchant. A sign reads: WAYNE'S QUALITY AUTOS and underneath in brackets: WE STAND BY OUR CARS. WAYNE stands leaning on an old, tarted up, Jaguar XJ6. Facing him and peeling off a few notes, is Hadley. Wayne reaches out and recounts the money. EXT. OUTSIDE CAR YARD. AFTERNOON. The Jaguar pulls out of the car yard and accelerates away amidst a billowing of blue, acrid smoke. EXT. BUSY HIGHWAY. AFTERNOON. The Jaguar, bonnet open, is stopped at the side of the highway. In front is a mobile mechanics van. An edgy Hadley stands on the grass verge watching, while a MECHANIC tinkers under the hood. EXT. TIFFANY'S FRONT GARDEN. NEXT MORNING. Tiffany in Sunday church best, complete with handbag and hat, anxiously looks up and down her street. EXT. ADJACENT STREET. MORNING. The Jaguar has again broken down. Hadley, in a dark suit is fiddling under the bonnet. He gets back in. INT. JAGUAR. MORNING. Ruffled, he wipes his brow with a piece of rag and attempts to start the car. HADLEY You're a lying crook, Wayne! EXT. ADJACENT STREET. MORNING. After a short while, it coughs into life. Leaving it idling, he gets out, lowers the bonnet and looks up and down the street. Darting into a front garden, he turns on a tap. HADLEY I need a bloody prayer right now! He quickly scrubs his hands and races back to the car. EXT. FOOTPATH OUTSIDE TIFFANY'S HOUSE. Tiffany is pacing up and down the footpath as the Jaguar turns into her street. She warily scrutinies it as it draws up to the kerb. She opens the door and gets in. INT. HADLEY'S JAGUAR. Hadley greets Tiffany with a big smile. Three distinct, black greasy stripes, line his face. HADLEY I'm terribly sorry I'm late Tiffany. My counterpart in Chicago phoned just as I was leaving... Tiffany is transfixed by his face. HADLEY (cont'd) ...It was nigh impossible to shake him off. I do apologise. TIFFANY. You've got something on your face... He immediately looks up at the interior mirror. TIFFANY. (cont'd) ...grease or something! A flustered Hadley grabs at the very rag that was contaminated in the first place and quickly scrubs his face. TIFFANY. (cont'd) What have you done?! You've only made it worse! I'm glad your boss wasn't visiting. She reaches into her handbag and passes him some tissues. Staring into the mirror, Hadley achieves only partial success in removing the grease. TIFFANY. (cont'd) (giggling) You men have no idea... Tiffany reaches back into her bag, removes more tissues and with a spit, dampens them. TIFFANY. (cont'd) ...Come here. She wipes his face with the saliva dampened tissues and with a further spit, an ensnared Hadley, his cool now completely shattered, resigns himself to another motherly onslaught. TIFFANY. (cont'd) Now you look a bit more respectable. C'mon, we're gonna be late. HADLEY I have no idea how to get there. TIFFANY. Faye's gonna hit the roof...left at the corner. EXT. TIFFANY'S STREET. MORNING. A cloud of smoke shrouds the rear of the Jaguar as it accelerates away. TIFFANY. (O.S.) I like your car...classy. EXT. CHURCH CAR PARK. MORNING. A wildly designed, vulgar building, suggests the architect soldiered on midpoint through an epileptic fit. INT. JAGUAR. Hadley's nonplussed as he stares through the windscreen at the sign above the entrance. "THE LOVE CHURCH". INT. CHURCH. In full swing, a mixed CONGREGATION of the old, the young, the fit and the infirm, all incited into an emotional display of devotion and all counting on being saved. It appears the greater the abandon the greater the supposed devotion. Two young male STAR SINGERS or rousers, rigorously trained and painstakingly rehearsed, lead the congregation, prancing up and down the aisles and whipping up a frenzy. EXT. CAR PARK. MORNING. Hadley and Tiffany hurry on foot through the car park. Revivalist music wafts out of the door. They reach the entrance. Hadley politely holds the door and beckons Tiffany through. INT. CHURCH. The pair walk down the centre aisle. Standing at the front in a semi-trance like state and smiling as if he were a gyrating advertisement for MacLeans is the EVANGELIST himself. With his hand firmly placed on a young, convulsing woman's head, he looks the ticket with his craggy features and a sequined jacket. Capping this volcanic face is a full head of bleached blonde hair, greased back in a duck-arse. In a Deep South Alabama accent, with an insincerity peculiarly sincere, he re-assures the woman. EVANGELIST Hallelujah! Give in to the Lord. He will provide you the car. No longer will you have to rely on your mother's. Praise The Lord!! Completing this circus and standing behind him on an elevated platform are the joyfully happy, angelic faces of the MUSICIANS, who, in gold, spangled jackets and eyes cast heavenward, sway in unison as they strum electric guitars and pound portable keyboards, albeit, still able to mix their live electronic sounds with a pre-recorded backing chorus. A spellbound Hadley is led by Tiffany towards Faye who's standing in an aisle seat jiggling her torso and waving her arms up and down as if facing Mecca. FAYE I hear you talkin'! In an attempt to slide past Faye, Tiffany stumbles. Faye promptly awakens from her trance and seemingly unaware of Hadley's presence, mouths off at her sister. FAYE (cont'd) (high above the music) Tiffany! Watch what you're doing! Listen, I'm deep in prayer. TIFFANY. Sorry. FAYE Where the bloody hell have you been? Without waiting for a reply and with arms again flapping wildly, Faye immediately resumes her hypnotic state. FAYE Lordy, Lordy. Tiffany and a thunderstruck Hadley take the only available seating at the far end of the row. Tiffany immediately begins clapping in time to the music. A stilted Hadley politely but uneasily, follows suit. The first session finishes and the Evangelist, followed by his two boy singers retreat into the Vestry. INT. CHURCH. To a fanfare from the band and, with arms outstretched, the trio fly back out of the Vestry. Hadley braces himself for the next assault. FADE TO BLACK. Weaving their way through a satiated congregation, Tiffany and Hadley leave the church. INT. CAR PARK. DAY. The Evangelist stands at the door, bidding farewell to the congregation. Catching sight of one of his boy singers, JEB, sneaking off, he calls out in broad 'Aussie' lingo. EVANGELIST Jeb! Where do you think you're going? Jeb turns and shrugs his shoulders. EVANGELIST (cont'd) Back inside, sunshine... With a hang dog expression Jeb stomps back. EVANGELIST (cont'd) ...on the broom. Tiffany and Hadley push past the Evangelist and head through the car park. TIFFANY. What did you think? Wasn't too loud for you? HADLEY It was certainly a memorable experience, although I'm not convinced I've quite been delivered from evil yet. TIFFANY. You're not evil, are you? HADLEY No, but perhaps I should have ground my teeth on a more traditional method of worship...a Vicar with protruding teeth... choirboys and wafers. TIFFANY. I can't say I really like this place either. Faye talked me into going. She tries everything... Weight Watchers, Tai-Bo, Holistic this, holistic that. None of it ever lasts. HADLEY It rarely does...I'm... TIFFANY ...She tried 'chronic irrigation' once, from a magazine...it made her constipated. Hadley squirms. TIFFANY (cont'd) (giggling) Up until then she'd always been regular. FAYE (O.S.) Yoo hoo! Turning, they see Faye hurtling towards them. TIFFANY. (under her breath) ...oh no! FAYE Don't worry about me...I'm only your sister. Faye stands puffing. TIFFANY. Faye, this is Hadley. Faye and Hadley shake hands. Faye gushes. FAYE Very pleased to meet you. HADLEY I'm pleased to meet you too, Faye. FAYE Tiffany's told me a lot about you. TIFFANY. Faye! FAYE I couldn't shut her up. She tells me you're in the hotel industry...in town? Tiffany's looking for the earth to engulf her. HADLEY Yes. FAYE You're the manager I hear? He looks uncomfortable. Tiffany attempts to cover herself. TIFFANY. I told her about... (back to Faye) ...don't be so nosey! HADLEY That's okay. Manager, controller, whatever. FAYE Which hotel? Hadley is shuffling uneasily. HADLEY It varies. I could be anywhere... any one of the chain. FAYE I suppose you start your day with a slap up breakfast...silver service and all that? Tiffany steps in defensively. TIFFANY. Hadley doesn't have time for breakfast, he's too busy working too hard. (taking his arm) Come on. Hadley turns apologetically to Faye as Tiffany whisks him away towards the car. Faye leaps forward, reaches out and grabs Tiffany's arm. Hadley politely continues on. FAYE (low voice) Is this gonna be serious? I'm warning ya. Tiffany shrugs her off. FAYE (cont'd) Don't say I haven't warned you. TIFFANY. (out loud) Warned me about what?! Hadley looks back. Faye squirms. FAYE Call me tonight. Tiffany gives a quick nod before hurrying to the car. Hadley gestures a wave to Faye. INT. HADLEY'S CAR. DAY. They drive along a busy road. TIFFANY. She's always trying to protect me. I don't need protecting. HADLEY She probably means well. TIFFANY. She's never been any different, even when we were kids. (pause) She used to steal my bubble gum and when it ran out of flavour she used to stick it on the soles of Dad's shoes and guess who got the blame? A silence. TIFFANY. (cont'd) Her ex-husband ran away from home...do this, do that...that's all he ever heard. He was too terrified to say no. You know, she spent all his money and then threatened to injure him if he didn't come back. He came round to my place one night, trembling like a leaf...and he was bigger than you. They both ponder over Faye's past. TIFFANY. (cont'd) I feel quite special in this car. You've got very good taste. HADLEY That's kind of you. It's important in my line of business to offer a sense of style, quality and refinement. To present an image, par excellence. EXT. BUSY HIGHWAY. MOMENTS LATER. Tiffany, bum up and wobbly on her heels, huffs and puffs as she pushes the rear end of the Jaguar. Hadley, in the driver's seat, steers towards a parking bay. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. DAY. Hadley sits on the settee, a mug of coffee in one hand and patting Ted with the other. HADLEY I have enjoyed your company today, Tiffany. TIFFANY. Me too. HADLEY I'm very embarrassed about the car. TIFFANY. I needed the exercise. I hope you can get it properly fixed. HADLEY I'll certainly be having a word to my fleet manager. He glances at his watch and gets up. HADLEY (cont'd) It's time I went. TIFFANY. Are you sure? You can stay for tea if you like. HADLEY I'd love to, but... TIFFANY. ...It won't be much. HADLEY Thank you, but I have a lot of work to catch up with. TIFFANY. You sure? HADLEY Another time. I'll look forward to it. Hadley puts his cup on the table and heads towards the door. INT. HALLWAY. DAY. Tiffany hurries past him and opens the front door. He bends to give her a kiss on the cheek but she presses her lips to his. Wrapping his arms around her, they prolong the moment. They wave goodbye to each other. A flushing Tiffany shuts the door and turns to Ted. TIFFANY. Oh, wow, Ted! I've gone all goosy...whew! INT. FAYE'S LOUNGE ROOM. NIGHT. Faye is again in her armchair, glass in one hand, phone in the other. A rugby match is in progress on the TV. FAYE (pointing to the TV) You can't expect big brawny guys like that to not retaliate...'course he's gonna thump him...I would. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. TIFFANY. That's because he's on our side...What did you think of Hadley? INT. FAYE'S LOUNGE ROOM. FAYE I didn't. TIFFANY. (O.S.) Why? What didn't you like about him? FAYE I was hoping you wouldn't bring that subject up but seeing as you have...He's too slick...he's not to be trusted...as mum used to say. Never trust a man whose eyebrows meet in the middle. TIFFANY. (O.S.) They don't! FAYE That's because he shaves them. TIFFANY. (O.S.) How would you know? FAYE All men shave them. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. TIFFANY. So you're saying, you can't trust any men? FAYE (O.S.) Tiffany, I did not say that. Stop putting words into my mouth. What I am saying is this. As far as I'm concerned, there's not too many guys out there who can be trusted. TIFFANY. Rot! FAYE (O.S.) Rot, nothing. Anyway, he's too tall for you and besides, what sort of guys drive those types of cars round here? You're gonna look a real goose, sitting in a Jag, perched up like cocky. A roar from the television. FAYE (O.S.) (cont'd) (eyes fixed on the TV) About bloody time. TIFFANY It's important in Hadley's line of work to give an excellent image of style and quality...and taste. FAYE (O.S.) Puke! EXT. HADLEY'S STREET. NIGHT. A police Commodore cruises slowly past Hadley's illuminated house. Lance is peering from the driver's window. The car roars off. Hadley steps out from behind a fence on the opposite side of the road and looks on. The Commodore returns and once again slowly passes. Hadley, this time on the other side of the road, peers from behind a tree. The police car roars off. Hadley hurries back into his house. INT. OFFICE. NURSING HOME. DAY. Tiffany sits at a computer in a reception area. Nearby sits a barge of a woman, DAWN. At the reception desk sits CHERYL, a jolly, chubby, middle-aged woman. Cheryl chats to Tiffany. CHERYL Well, come on then. I'm all ears! TIFFANY. (bashful) He's tall, dark, slim, good looking. His name is Hadley. CHERYL Hadley! Oooh! That's a good start. TIFFANY. He's a manager...controller for a big chain of big hotels...not pubs...hotel hotels... (beaming) ...he's got a Jaguar. CHERYL There you go. There's a lot to be said for biding your time, eh, Tiff...make sure you keep this one under lock and key. TIFFANY. (naughty giggle) I'll do my best. CHERYL Have you told any of the other girls? TIFFANY. Not yet. CHERYL Well do it quick, before I do. TIFFANY. Cheryl! Don't you dare. CHERYL How's your sister taking all this? TIFFANY. Faye! She's okay. CHERYL It's been a long time between drinks...Marvin? Wasn't he the last one? The plane spotter. Dawn, wanders towards a nearby paper copier. TIFFANY. Sort of...long time ago now... Dawn turns to Cheryl. DAWN ...I remember when he came in with all those photos. This is a Jumbo and this is a Jumbo...a different one...this ones got Rolls Royce engines. Jesus, he was exciting CHERYL Don't be so mean, Dawn...I liked the one before him though...John. He did so much for his mother. He was nice. TIFFANY This one's different. DAWN Everyone's different to those two. TIFFANY What do you mean? CHERYL Leave her alone. DAWN He was enough to put... CHERYL Dawn! DAWN Alright. I'll take that back. Cheryl swings around to answer the phone. EXT. SEEDY LANE. NIGHT. A late model Ford Fairlane mounts the footpath and pulls to a halt. Lance steps out and crosses the road to a doorway of a run down double-storey building. A red light glows through an opaque side window. He walks straight in. EXT. SEEDY LANE. LATER. Lance exits the building, folding notes and stuffing them into his jacket pocket. A female voice screams from the building. VOICE (O.S.) ARSEHOLE!! He ignores the screams, adjusts his trousers and casts an eye up and down the street before swaggering back to his car. The Fairlane moves off slowly past a side alley. Covertly parked is Hadley's unattended Jaguar. EXT. DUCK POND. DAY Tiffany and Hadley sit on a bench, eating ice creams and throwing bread crumbs to the ducks. INT. CINEMA. Tiffany and Hadley eat popcorn while watching a film. INT. ITALIAN RESTUARANT. NIGHT. At a table for two, the pair sip wine in an elegant establishment. A waiter arrives to take their order. INT. CONCERT HALL. They continually glimpse at each other, during a performance of a Beethoven symphony. EXT. FAIRGROUND. DAY. Hanging on for grim death, the happy pair ride a roller coaster. EXT. FAIRGROUND. NIGHT. Hadley shows Tiffany how to hold a rifle at a side show. EXT. FAIRGROUND. NIGHT. Eating fairy floss, the joyously exuberant couple walk out of the fairground. Tiffany holds a huge teddy bear. EXT. SANDY BEACH. MOONLIT NIGHT. Carrying their shoes in their hands and walking arm in arm, the enraptured duo drag their bare feet through the shallows. INT. JAGUAR. NIGHT. Intoxicated with the ambience, the besotted pair drive home singing at the tops of their voices. HADLEY Where have you been all my life? She's now soloing; "The Rose". HADLEY (cont'd) (continuing out loud) Where did you learn to sing like that? Unwavering, she continues. HADLEY (cont'd) You're terrific! She stops abruptly. TIFFANY. My mum was a very good singer...she was chosen to sing at the Colostomy Association's annual dinner once. HADLEY Really! TIFFANY Must be in the genes. HADLEY A gift untapped. TIFFANY. (coyly) Thank you. The car turns off from the main road. HADLEY I'm looking forward to one of your special coffees. She seizes the opportunity. TIFFANY. How about you make me one? HADLEY I'm not so sure I could make... TIFFANY. ...at your place. HADLEY My place? She's determined. TIFFANY. Why not? Two weeks and you still haven't invited me to your house...you haven't even told me where it is. So lets go... (cockily) ...white and one please. He's lost for words. HADLEY (panic stricken) No, please, Tiff, I haven't tidied...dusted...the ironing isn't washed...I haven't... TIFFANY. So! You've been to my place lots of times when it's been a mess. Now I want to see yours. Defeated, Hadley grits his teeth as he turns another corner and pulls up outside a heavily barred, run down, state owned, fibre board, semi-detached homette. Tiffany gazes blankly at the house before stepping out of the car. EXT. FOOTPATH OUTSIDE HADLEY'S HOUSE. NIGHT. Tiffany, meekly followed by an apprehensive Hadley, strides up the path. She notes the grids on the windows. TIFFANY. Superintendant Cockburn would be proud of you. He looks sheepish, but doesn't reply. They continue to the front door. INT. HALLWAY. HADLEY'S HOUSE. The front door opens. Jumping ahead of her, he reaches around for the light switch and allows her to lead him down the short passageway. HADLEY To the right. Again, he jumps in front of her and into another doorway. INT. LIVING ROOM. DARK. He shoots in the door and switches on a dim lamp sitting on top of an old small TV. Through the gloom she can make out an austere living room with only rudimentary furnishings devoid of mementos, portraits or photos of family members. HADLEY (laboured jocularity) As you can see, nothing special. I tend to live rather frugally. How does she answer that? She doesn't. FADE TO: Still enveloped in semi-darkness they sit on the couch drinking coffee. Tiffany, now appearing far more relaxed, leans her head on his shoulder. Hadley responds by holding her tight and they embrace. With no attempt to resist him, Tiffany allows him to partially remove some of her clothing. INT. HADLEY'S BEDROOM. Tiffany stands at the doorway. Hadley pushes her towards the bed. The light from the passage shines through the door. The room contains just a single wardrobe, two odd bedside tables and a double bed. Standing out like a beacon and attached to the bed is the padded bed-head. Squealing and giggling, Tiffany suddenly freezes as her eyes make contact with the contraband. HADLEY (quizzical) Are you okay? Tiffany turns to him with a brave face. TIFFANY. ...a..um..ah, no. I ah..just remembered, I've gotta let Ted in. He throws his arms around her and they fall on the bed. HADLEY He'll understand. CUT TO: They are making love. Hadley on top and all consumed. Quite to the contrary, Tiffany, spiritless, looks unsettled as her eyes continually roll back to the bed-head. DISSOLVE TO: They lie together, spoon fashion. Hadley, wide eyed and anxious, looks over at an unsettled Tiffany. HADLEY (cont'd) Did I disappoint you? She sits bolt upright. TIFFANY. No, no. It's not that..I..I've got to go, I've got to let Ted out. HADLEY I thought you said he was already out? TIFFANY. He is...now I have to let him in...because he's out. He grunts a confused acknowledgement. EXT. HADLEY'S FRONT DOOR. She pecks him on the cheek and leads off down the path. HADLEY You should allow me to drive you home. TIFFANY. I'm alright...I promise. HADLEY Can I phone you? EXT. HADLEY'S FRONT GATE. She doesn't reply. He hurries to the gate after her. HADLEY Tiffany, let me drive you. She stomps off. Frustrated, he watches her head off down the street. EXT. HADLEY'S HOUSE. The front door flies open and with his jacket half on, half off, he races to his car and jumps in. He fumbles the key in the ignition and drops it on the floor. Reaching to pick it up, he bangs his head. HADLEY Shit! He jabs the key at the ignition and turns it. The motor cranks slowly and fades. HADLEY (cont'd) I warned you, Wayne! In desperation and with clenched teeth, he turns the key again. The car finally starts. EXT. NEAR TIFFANY'S HOUSE. He arrives in time to see Tiffany shutting her gate. He gives a friendly toot before continuing on. She turns, waves and then hurries on up the path. INT. HADLEY'S CAR. He's stopped by the side of the road, his head resting on the steering wheel. HADLEY I should've bought the Datsun! EXT. CITY STREET. PASSENGER BUS APPROACHING. MORNING. The bus is travelling through peak city traffic. INT. PASSENGER BUS. Faye, dressed in a black uniform, forlornly sits at a window seat on the crowded bus blankly staring at the passing traffic. Suddenly alert, her head whips back as she fixates on a limousine parked on the forecourt of a large hotel. Reaching into the open boot and removing a suitcase is Hadley, uniformed, complete with peaked cap. Faye, leaps out of her seat simultaneously ringing the bell and barges past PASSENGERS while yelling to the DRIVER. FAYE Stop, stop the bus! I wanna get off... Turning, the driver only requires a glimpse of this brazen woman before wisely choosing to do as he's told. EXT. FOOTPATH. CITY STREET. MORNING. Faye flies out of the bus. All passengers peer round through the windows in unison. She swiftly marches back, slow-footing it as she nears the hotel. Peering around a feature wall, her suspicions are confirmed as she observes Hadley carrying two suitcases up the steps and into the foyer. Deep in contemplation she turns back and slowly walks away before checking her watch and bolting. FAYE (arm waving) Taxi! INT. CITY DEPARTMENT STORE. MANCHESTER DEPT. Faye bursts in, ignoring her CO-WORKERS and grabs the phone. FAYE Hi, Tiffany, got a minute? INT. OFFICE. NURSING HOME. Tiffany slowly puts the phone down and gloomily reflects. Cheryl looks up. CHERYL You look like you've seen a ghost? (leaning forward) You okay? Tiffany doesn't answer but reaches for her coat and handbag and hurries for the door. TIFFANY. I have to go. Tell Rachel I'll call her later. Cheryl senses that no amount of persuasion will stop her. CHERYL Take it easy, love. INT. BUS. DAY. Tiffany, with a purposeful manner, sits bolt upright looking out of the window, EXT. FACING HOTEL. DAY Tiffany stands across the road from the hotel. INT. HOTEL RECEPTION DESK Tiffany stands at the desk, the DESK CLERK is stroking his chin. DESK CLERK There's a Harry, but he's a chef...and short. TIFFANY. Hadley, it's definitely Hadley. What's your managers name...the controller? DESK CLERK Mr. Wilkins. TIFFANY. What's his first name? DESK CLERK He doesn't have one. He's just Mister. At this moment, an empty handed Hadley casually wanders up the steps into the foyer only to be confronted with a rear view of Tiffany. He abruptly comes to a stop. The desk clerk looks up. DESK CLERK (cont'd) Justin?! Do you know a Hadley? Tiffany turns, too late to catch a pirouetting, lightning fast streak shoot out of the door. EXT. FORECOURT. DAY. He descends seventeen steps at a time down to the forecourt. Hyperventilating behind a pillar, Hadley is approached by none other than MR. WILKINS himself. Mr. Wilkins points to an ELDERLY WOMAN carrying a large overnight bag. MR. WILKINS (brusquely) Justin, assist madame with her luggage. Flurried, Hadley takes her bag and begins to lead her away from the foyer. HADLEY This way...more private. The old lady submissively follows as Wilkins waves his arm. MR. WILKINS Excuse me! Excuse me! Where are you going? HADLEY The back stairs. MR. WILKINS The fire escape!? HADLEY Just in case. MR. WILKINS In case of what? HADLEY Fire! ELDERLY LADY (turning to Wilkins) He's quite right. There's been a lot of news just lately. Wilkins, outnumbered, can't determine if he's missing something. He's about to give chase when a taxi pulls up and blocks his path. The TAXI DRIVER winds his window down. TAXI DRIVER Porter, I've got three cases and a bag for room 83. Wilkins gazes blankly at the driver before helplessly looking towards the pair as they disappear around the side of the building. EXT. SIDE OF HOTEL. DAY. Hadley leads the old lady along a path at the side of the hotel where split rubbish bags and overflowing waste bins line a walkway securely enclosed by a three-metre high, wire fence. Reaching the back, they stop at a fire-exit door where Hadley frantically rattles the knob. After desperately trying other doors to no avail and valiantly attempting to disguise his anxiety, the pair finally reach a dead end. He turns to the woman and places an arm around her shoulder. HADLEY (soothingly) Can I take you somewhere for a cup of tea? ELDERLY LADY That would be loverly. He scrutinizes the top of the fence. She follows suit. He casts a searching look at her. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. NIGHT. In her usual position with Ted on her lap, Tiffany is on the phone to Faye. TIFFANY. ...he's only a short chef. They've got a thin waiter, Ranji, but he's got a moustache. Are you absolutely sure it was him? INT. FAYE'S LOUNGE ROOM. Faye sits in her usual chair with her glass. FAYE Tiffany, I wouldn't go to all that trouble to help you if I wasn't sure, now would I? INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. TIFFANY. I just don't know what to think now. FAYE (O.S.) Give him the elbow. Dump him but not before I get to him with a bloody chainsaw. Nobody fools around with my little sister and lives to inhale again. TIFFANY. Do you think I should confront him? FAYE (O.S.) Absolutely! TIFFANY. Will you come with me? FAYE (O.S.) I never get involved in domestics. Who won the wrestling? TIFFANY. I don't know, I haven't had the telly on tonight. FAYE (O.S.) You're so bloody selfish. I can never rely on you, Tiffany. EXT. HADLEY'S HOUSE. NIGHT. The Jaguar is parked outside Hadley's house. Tiffany walks with an uncharacteristic, purposeful step towards the front door and rings the bell. The door partially opens and a face peeps around. Hadley greets her with a voice an octave higher. HADLEY Oh...hello Tif... He clears his throat. HADLEY (cont'd) ...hello Tiffany. It's very late. Everything okay? She gives him a searching look before reaching up and pecking him on the cheek. He follows her ignobly into the lounge room. INT. HADLEY'S LOUNGE ROOM. TIFFANY. How was work today? Gulp. HADLEY Tea? Coffee? Or anything? He looks to escape to the kitchen. TIFFANY. No, thank you. HADLEY Do you mind if I have one? TIFFANY. Which hotel do you manage? Oh God. He abruptly stops. HADLEY I..It could be any one...any one of the chain...we have... She looks him fair square in the eyes. TIFFANY. Where were you today? He's clicking into gear. HADLEY Ah, let me see. This morning I was at a meeting in the Barossa Valley, had a delightful lunch, then spent the remainder of the afternoon playing golf with the guys from the winery... TIFFANY. You weren't in town then... HADLEY ...they were trying to talk me into stocking their range on an exclusive basis but frankly we need... She butts in. TIFFANY. So you weren't in town at all today? On a roll. HADLEY ...that's when you appreciate living this side of town...and..uh... He draws himself up. HADLEY (cont'd) Why do you ask? TIFFANY. Actually I might have that cuppa. She gets up and hugs him tightly. He squeezes her close, screws up his face and looks heavenward. INT. FAYE'S LOUNGE ROOM. NIGHT. Faye is standing in her dressing gown on the phone. FAYE You know me, Tiffany, I've got a thing for faces. You remember that guy on "The Price is Right"...with the ears...and you said it wasn't the same guy...the one that won that car on "The Wheel" and I said it was and it was and I was right. Well I'm telling you, it was him. TIFFANY. It's easy to mistake a face. HADLEY I never forget a face...and he won't forget his bloody face either when I'm finished with him. Anyway I've gotta get up for work in the morning, so good night. She hangs up. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. NIGHT. Tiffany, in pyjamas, slowly hangs up the phone. INT. TIFFANY'S BEDROOM. DARK. She's lying wide eyed in bed. Spread-eagled across her feet is Ted, fast asleep. INT. TIFFANY'S LOUNGE ROOM. EARLY HOURS. Tiffany, in her pyjamas, |