HER COLLECTION
A short film by David Erdos
BLACK
FADE IN:
1 EXT. LONDON HOUSE. STREET. DAY. 1
PETER, an older man stands with flowers. He
consults a small piece of paper and then approaches
the door.
His hand goes for the bell but then the door opens.
A dishevelled Party Girl, CASSIE stumbles out of the
door.
CASSIE.
Do you live here?
PETER.
What? No..I was looking for –
CASSIE.
Christmas? Or a Prince? Something..
What’s the name of this street? Do
you know? (FEELS HERSELF:) Fuck!
PETER.
Is something – ?
CASSIE.
What? Fuck! Where the fuck are my
knickers! Have you got my knickers?
Where are my fucking knickers? Oh!
Fuck!
She darts back inside leaving PETER standing.
She is heard shouting and banging on a higher floor.
CASSIE (OOS)
LET ME IN,YOU PIG! SAL! OR WHATEVER
YOUR NAME IS! LET ME IN! DO YOU HEAR
ME! I SAID LET ME IN! LET ME IN!
PETER stands at the door. He peers in, uncertain.
Cassie approaches. She pushes past him and out.
CASSIE.
Spanish cunt.
PETER looks after her. He stands, disconcerted.
2 INT. HALLWAY. DAY. 2
PETER enters. He closes the front door as a Flat
door opens. CARA (with a heavy accent) stands staring
at him..
CARA.
What was that noise?
PETER.
I think it was one of the tenants..
CARA.
It wasn’t you?
PETER.
I’m no tenant. I was looking for –
Cara shuts the door.
Nevermind.
PETER walks on. He puts down the flowers.
Another door opens. CAROL, dowdy and fearful is
looking though the crack.
CAROL.
Who are you?
PETER.
Hello..hi..
CAROL.
Are you from the landlord? I’ve got
mice in here somewhere. I can hear them
pick and scratch through the walls. They
didn’t say there were mice when they
asked me to stay here. Plus they said
there’d be carpets, but there isn’t
even that. And it’s cold. I can’t go out.
Are you –
PETER.
No. I’m actually looking for someone..
CAROL.
Who?
PETER.
Oh, my sister. My sister Emma.
CAROL.
I’m Carol.
PETER.
Hello.
CAROL.
Do you know the landlord?
PETER.
No.
CAROL.
Can’t you help me? You see,I’m being
driven mad by this mouse..!
PETER.
I’m sorry..
He walks to the stairs. She watches after.
CAROL.
Don’t tell the landlord! This
isn’t my fault! None of this!
She slams the door shut as Stuart continues.
3 INT. CAROL’S ROOM. DAY. 3
CAROL turns back inside. A BODY is laying,
seemingly dead in the foreground. She looks at it
impassive.
CAROL.
It isn’t. And more..never could.
4 INT. STAIRCASE. 4
PETER passes patches on the wall where information
has been.
5 INT. LANDING. DAY. 5
Another door to a flat. PETER knocks. There is no
answer. He knocks. Then continues knocking.
6 INT. 2nd ROOM. DAY. 6
The knocking from outside continues. CATHY, an
Executive type woman turns to regard it. She turns
back to the person that she’s been addressing. She
takes a gun from her handbag and points it at this
person. We do not see him unless in OS shot.
CATHY.
If you answer that door I’ll have
you, Derek. Can you imagine that,
Mister Walters? I’ll murder you. It’s
like a film, this. A bit. An extreme
situation. But it took time to find
you and now I want to play the thing
out, properly. Wicked Stepdads are
shit…
CATHY (CONT)
..They probably give off an odour.
You do, that’s for certain. I could
Practically smell you from Oxford. And
where are we now? Quite near town.
Living in shit on my Mother’s money.
You couldn’t even waste her cash
wisely, like you wasted me, years ago.
(TRIUMPHANT:)
I’m going to kill you, you cunt.
7 INT. LANDING. DAY. 7
Another door,slightly open. PETER peers in.
8 INT. 3rd ROOM. DAY. 8
CINDY, a buxom prostitute is greasing her hands
with petroleum jelly. We glimpse the outline of a
man lain before her.
CINDY.
Rollover, your Highness. Crack to.
9 INT. LANDING. DAY. 9
PETER straightens. Walks on and takes the
staircase to the higher floor.
10 INT. 2ND LANDING. DAY. 10
More doors ahead. PETER stands there, uncertain.
Suddenly a door opens and CLAIRE comes out. She is
a bright, breezy girl, dressed for work. Calm and
cheerful. Her hair is dyed a strong colour. Her
makeup reminiscent of punk or goth.
CLAIRE.
Oh, hello!
PETER.
Hi.
CLAIRE.
Are you Avon calling?
PETER.
No, I’m not.
CLAIRE.
Pity. I could do with a cure for my
nails. You look lost.
PETER.
It’s my –
CLAIRE.
What?
PETER.
I’ve been trying to find my kid
sister. She ran away.
CLAIRE.
There’s no children –
PETER.
No, she ran away years ago. My Dad.
Our Dad. He – I don’t s’pose you –
CLAIRE.
What?
She smiles cooly.
There’s no kids.
PETER.
Her name’s Emma.
CLAIRE.
There isn’t an Emma. Not here.
PETER.
I have this address. Carlton Road.
Queensway.
CLAIRE.
This is Carlton Road. This is Queensway.
PETER.
It’s all that was sent.
CLAIRE.
Let me see.
He shows her.
Weird.
PETER.
Yes.
CLAIRE.
Someone’s playing games with you..
PETER.
Are they? I used to play games with
my sister when she was kid.
CLAIRE.
Oh? What sort.
PETER.
Cryptic stuff.
CLAIRE.
Ah.
PETER.
She twisted me round her finger. She
was a minx.
CLAIRE.
Was she really.
PETER.
A real little minx.
CLAIRE.
Aren’t they all? And I’m late for work..
PETER.
Look, I’m sorry: this house..How many
Rooms are there?
CLAIRE.
God knows. There’s lots of people.
But I mean, it’s mostly girls, girls
in here.
She smiles.
It’s a kind of refuge.
PETER.
I see.
CLAIRE.
Yes, this was a safehouse.
PETER.
Was? Something happen?
CLAIRE.
I said I was late. So I’m gone.
She goes, walking from him very quickly.
She practically runs down the stairs.
He stares after.
Another door opens.
A BEATEN WOMAN WITH A BRUISED FACE stares at him.
The front door slams.
PETER moves back to the staircase.
PETER.
EMMA!
He runs to the landing window to see the
street below him.
11 EXT. STREET. DAY. 11
CLAIRE/ EMMA is running. Her face is fearful.
She disappears down the street.
DISSOLVE TO:
12 Same shots of each woman (CASSIE/CARA/CAROL/CATHY/
CINDY/CLAIRE) running. They have all been the same
person, each one victimised by her Father and Brother
and any number of men. The image repeats, each time
superimposing until image definition and the truth
blurs from view..
FADE TO BLACK.
CREDITS. END.