All language subtitles for The Comeback .Peter Walker (Heritage) Limited.1978.23.976 fps.English HI

(Footsteps)

(Footsteps)

(Keys jangling)

Harry?

(Footsteps)

(Grinding, whirring)

(Creak)

Harry?

Harry, is that you?

(Distant horn)

(Phone)

- Hello.
- (Man) ‘Morning. Mrs Cooper?’

- Yes, this is Nick Cooper’s apartment.
- ‘Are you his wife?’

No, this isn’t Mrs Cooper. Mr Cooper
divorced Mrs Cooper a couple of weeks ago.

‘Incompatibility. Perhaps you read about it
in your newspapers.’

No, I don’t know anything about his
new album. I’m tone deaf, remember.

I’ve given all the interviews I wanna give.

I don’t know where he is and I don’t care.

But you can probably reach him here
Later this afternoon.

(Hangs up)

(Woman over PA)
‘Final call for flight TW751 for Bangkok.

‘Will passengers please proceed
immediately to gate 21 .’

Mr Cooper, I’m Linda Everett,
Webster’s secretary.

- How do you do. Er, and where is Web?
- Oh, he couldn’t make it.

- He said he has a big deal...
- Yeah, yeah, he’s got a big deal going.

(American accent) ‘‘Chance for you
and Linda to get acquainted, kiddo.’’

Almost verbatim. As a matter of fact,
something urgent did come up.

He said it wouldn’t be long.
Come on, I’ve got a car waiting.

Hey. I was never really tone deaf, you know.

I loved your music.

I still love your music.

So you’re not going to stay
in your penthouse?

I hope I’ve seen the last of that place.

He’s found me a house in the country,
away from things.

What things are those?

Do you always ask so many questions
in such a short space of time?

I like to get to know people quickly.
Find out if I’m gonna like them.

- How am I doing?
- Just, er...terrific.

- No one else meeting you here?
- Who else would bother?

Gall?

No, Gall’s got better things to do
with her time.

(Footsteps)

(Door being unlocked)

(Squeak)

(Walling)

(Screaming)

(Moaning)

(Muffled music and voices)

(Phone)

(Typewriter clicking)

Ah, Nick. So good to see you.

- How are you Web?
- How was the flight?

- 10 hours and 27 minutes.
- Oh, that’s brutal.

- I was looking for you at the airport.
- Hm. Quite a busy day, kiddo.

I had a matter to attend to.
Didn’t take very long.

Wouldn’t you rather be met by a beautiful
blonde than a senile old publisher like me?

Every time.

(Typewriter clicking)

(Web) What do you think of that?

Looks like the sort of place where you find
Lon Chaney playing the organ.

Oh, come on. It’s a beautiful estate.

I got it for zilch.
It’s only 40 minutes from town.

- For how Long?
- I took it month to month

but it’s ours for as Long as we need it.
The owners are on an extended vacation.

And it comes compete
with a housekeeping couple.

Nothing too good for you, Nick.

Harry fixed out a room
with enough electronic equipment

to launch the next moon shot.

- You got a lot riding on this one, huh?
- Your last album sold six million.

But that was six years ago.

Now this one can do better.
You’ve gotta work at it.

(Distant siren)

- That’s what I’m here for.
- You bet your ass.

- Web.
- Hm?

- What happened?
- What are you talking about?

- The towel in the bathroom.
- Oh, I cut myself.

Nothing to be concerned about.

Anything you want from the apartment?
I sent Harry to get your mall.

- No, there’s nothing I want.
- Gall came back a couple of weeks ago.

- I think she went back to New York.
- I know that.

Will you be seeing her?

What for?

Well, I’ll drive you over to the house.

No, Web, I think I’ll go done there
on my own. I, er...

I want some time to get my head together.

Your tired. Don’t want my boy tired.

I’m not your boy, Web.

But I do appreciate
everything you’ve done for me.

- See you tomorrow.
- Mm.

- Make up your mind yet?
- Working on it.

Don’t work too hard.

He’s been through a lot the last few months.

Least now, he can get some peace.

You must be Mr Cooper.

Oh, forgive my hands.
I’ve been baking bread.

Why don’t you call me Nick?

Mr B!

He’ll bring your things inside.
You must be tired after that Long flight.

Mr B!

Get him going on that hedge and there
could be an earthquake before he’d move.

Come inside.

Mm. Something smells good.

I told you, I was baking bread.

You should listen.

(Metallic scraping)

That was a delicious meal.

Your Albert’s a lucky man.

Mr B can’t eat sweet things.

He, er, he has a heart condition.

I’m sorry to hear that.

- Have you lived here Long?
- Since just after the war.

We worked for the Butlers since 1948.

There’s on a cruise or something,
aren’t they?

Round the world. It will take them a year.

Do you like cake?

Mm. This is good.

- This is some house.
- Needs laughter.

You don’t have any children?

Mr B and I married late in life.

Oh, will you be staying here Long?

At least until my record’s finished.

Maybe Longer. Depends on the tax situation.

It’s so nice to have some company.

We’re both going to enjoy this.
I’m quite sure.

(♫ Mellow pop instrumental)

I’m just turning in now, Mr Cooper.

I know you like a glass of brandy before bed.

- How do you know that?
- Read about you in those fan magazines.

Mrs B, you don’t wanna believe everything
you read in those stupid magazines.

Quite detailed.

Mr B has checked all the windows
and doors. You’re safely locked up.

- I’d better let you get some sleep, huh?
- Oh, no, do carry on.

Mr B’s quite a fan of yours.

So am I. We’ve got all of your records.

No kidding.

(Woman over music)
‘I don’t wanna talk about Nick...

‘..about Nick...

‘..about Nick...

‘..about Nick...

‘..about Nick...

‘..about Nick...’

(Music ends)

(Child crying)

(Muffled sobbing)

(Sobbing gets louder)

(Low ticking)

(Rattling)

(Chimes)

(Sobbing has stopped)

(Sobbing resumes)

(Creaking)

(Sighs) Is that you, Mrs B?

(Nick) ♫ I didn’t want a part
of all that photo album blues

♫ So I never wrote a Christmas card

♫ The postman passed her by

♫ It never mattered to me

♫ That she waited till I slept

♫ To cry

♫ Old woman humming traces

♫ Of some Long forgotten tune

♫ Rock me in my cradle

♫ Sing me softly in my room

♫ Sing about a man

♫ Who gave a picnic on the moon

♫ And he never stopped to thank you

♫ For the love he left so soon

♫ The traces of a Long forgotten tune
you left behind

♫ Make failures of my triumphs

♫ Cos I waited till you slept

(Music quietens)

♫ To cry ♫

- That’s the one, Nick. I’ll play it back.
- OK.

That was sensational.

Sounds even better from the beginning.

Sorry, kiddo. I was a little busy today.

Looking for a replacement,
in case I wash out?

If I thought that, you wouldn’t be here.

Now look, it was your idea,
yours and that wife of yours,

that you stop working when you got married.

So, now you’ve spilt and you wanna
start over again. That is OK.

But six years is a Long time
in our business, Nick.

And you make it this time

or maybe you don’t make it.

So why don’t we just cut the crap, OK?

I admire your faith, Web.

You are a viable proposition, Nick.
That is how I make my living -

on viable propositions.

You sure are a phrase-maker.

You never did like her, did you?

She tried to destroy you, Nick.

This time,

maybe we won’t get
that kind of interference.

- (♫ Muted playback)
- Well, how’s the new place working out?

Mm.

I had a nightmare last night, Web.

I woke up in a cold sweat.
I... I heard a young girl crying.

No, not crying. Sobbing.

Oh, well you were dreaming.

Well, the dream followed me downstairs.

Cos I could still hear it from the hallway.

Yeah, well that’s those old houses.
They echo.

Probably a radio or a TV
from the house next door.

Web, the nearest house is 300 yards away.

- Erm...cats.
- Cats?

Cats. Making it in the yard.
They sound like that. Midnight chorus.

Maybe you ought a sign them, huh?

♫ ..humming traces
of some Long forgotten tune

♫ While business and women... ♫

(Car horns piping)

Hey, wait a minute.

You don’t give a girl much of a chance
to keep up with you.

You in the right race? I thought an executive
secretary wanted a man on the way up,

- not a singer trying to make a comeback.
- Depends where he’s been.

- I’ve got all your records at home.
- Hm. So have I.

(Laughs) Just consider me
an ageing groupie.

And don’t be so hard on yourself.
If Web didn’t have faith in your comeback,

he wouldn’t have spent so much money
setting you up here.

Are you a part of the deal?

You certainly make
a very attractive package.

I’m not part of any deal. Anything I say or do
is because I want to say or do it.

- I think I’ve been making a mistake.
- Wait a minute.

I didn’t mean that.

I guess I’m a little edgy today. I, er...

Well, it’s my first session in six years.

Web read me the facts of life.
I guess he’s right.

How Long have you worked for Web?

Just over a year.

I sure miss this town.

And the restaurants, are they still as good?

I know a super one. Down by the river.

Very romantic.

Well, I will pick you up at eight o’clock.

I wouldn’t wanna let
an ageing groupie down.

Eight o’clock.

(Horns piping)

(Chiming)

(Phone)

(Ringing stops)

(Thud)

It’s for you.

Thank you, Mrs B.

- Yeah, this is Nick Copper.
- Nick, this is Harry.

- Harry?
- Welcome home. How have you been?

Fine. Nice to hear for you, Harry.

Hey, that equipment you installed is terrific.

Oh, a lot riding on your shoulders, Nicky.

You wanna look ahead. Clear out
the past like...well, like it never happened.

I haven’t spoken to Gall
in a couple of months.

‘Yeah, I know you haven’t.’

Listen, I think you should go there tonight.

Get your stuff
before she can get her hands on it.

No, Harry, not tonight.

Tonight, I’m going to dinner
with a beautiful lady.

The last thing I wanna do is think about Gall.

You should take care of it.
You should go there tonight.

Tomorrow, Harry. Look, I’m late.
I gotta go now, huh?

- I got the keys.
- Harry, tomorrow. I gotta go now.

All right, Nicky.

Goodbye.

- Going out?
- The nice, blonde young lady?

She seems very nice.

- How do you know about Linda?
- We read all about it in the newspaper.

We always keep all of your clippings’.

I’m very flattered.

You have a good time tonight.

Oh, I intend to. I might be late.

We’ll be here. Anything you need,
anything you want, just call.

We can always hear you.

Good night.

Good night.

(Horn pips)

(Kisses) Got cold waiting.

Is that a sneak preview of things to come?

Call it what you like.
You’ll have to work for the next one.

Do you need any windows cleaning?

(Distant hooting)

(Nick) When the single and the album
broke in Europe,

it seemed a good idea to move to LA.

(Linda) Gall’s idea?

(Nick) Yeah. Gall’s idea.

She’s a California girl
and was getting kinda homesick.

Anyway, I was paying
Her Majesty’s Treasury

more than I thought they were entitled to,
so we split.

Sounds fine.

Well, it would have been.

But I did learn that America’s
not the place to be in our business,

unless you have a hit record.

- Tough, eh?
- Oh, I made out all right.

But to a girl like Gall,
success means everything.

She started fooling around?

A little.

That was good, huh?

I haven’t had a meal like that
since about, er, six years ago.

- A little restaurant near Maidenhead.
- Was that with Gall?

- Yeah.
- Oh, sorry.

Didn’t mean to stir painful memories.

They were painful.

- Not any more?
- A little less every day.

Evening, Nicky. Thought I’d catch up
with you sooner or later.

Mrs B heard you making the reservation.

I haven’t had the pleasure
of meeting the young lady.

- This is Linda Everett.
- Webster Jones’ secretary.

- That’s right.
- I know a lot of things.

Nicky and I have no secrets, do we, Nicky?

This is Harry Cunningham. He’s, er, been
my right-hand man now for many years.

We’ve been through a lot together,
Nicky and I. Seen them come

and seen them go, haven’t we, Nicky?

I told you I was busy tonight. What is so
important it couldn’t wait till tomorrow?

I don’t you leaving your things in that
apartment where she can get hold of them.

Some of them are worth a lot of money.
The paintings, that stereo system...

Sure she’s gonna back a big truck up
and take them all out tonight, huh?

- Anyway, I think she’s out of the country.
- No telling where she is.

Or what she’d do.

Anyway, the only things
I need from there are, er...

Well, some mementos and some jewellery
that’s locked in the middle desk-drawer.

Let’s get them tonight.

I’d love to see your penthouse.

Why don’t we go and pick them up?
Wouldn’t take Long.

No, I don’t wanna go back there.

You can go with Harry, if you like.

OK. Sure you don’t mind?

I really wanted you to go with me, Nicky.
I don’t want a stranger.

- (Laughs)
- Linda’s not a stranger.

I don’t feel like one.

Sure it’s OK?

Sure. You go ahead.
I’ll see you back at the house.

Right. See you later.

- Take good care of her, will you, Harry?
- I will.

God, this is a creepy place.

- I can’t imagine anyone living here.
- Nick and Gall liked it.

It’s unusual. They spent a fortune.

You should see it up there. It was a palace.

- Not any more?
- Nope. Not any more.

(Whirring)

You’re a very beautiful woman.

Nick knows how to pick them.

Nick didn’t pick me.

I’d say you have beautiful breasts.

That’s the first thing I notice
about a woman, her breasts.

Large, small, rounded, curved.

I’d say yours were on the smallish side
but very round.

Large nipples that...
that harden when you’re sexually aroused...

or frightened. Do you know what I mean?

(Keys jangling)

(Files buzzing)

- Take a look.
- What?

Take a look.

(Buzzing)

- I want to go.
- No hurry.

Please.

I want to go.

OK.

I’ve brought the wrong keys.

- You’re frightened.
- No.

- Something about this place.
- No.

It’s all right. I’m with you.

I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

I promised Nick.

We’ll have to come back another time,
when I’ve got the right keys.

(Nick) ♫ While business and women

♫ Had me reaching for the moon

♫ Her silent mind recalls me

♫ As a very tiny boy

♫ Pounding his piano

- ♫ Like a music-making toy... ♫
- Hi.

♫ Dusty books and Long love letters... ♫

- (Volume decreases)
- What’s the matter?

Where’s Harry?

He dropped me off.
We couldn’t get into the penthouse.

Nick, there’s something strange
about that place.

- I was frightened. Terrified.
- Come on.

No, I mean it.

I sensed something. Something...

Dark places, honey.
That’s all it was - a dark place.

- Harry.
- Harry’s all right.

That’s what he said.

I’d be all right, as Long as I was with him.

Honey, Harry is all right.

♫ ..in my cradle... ♫

(Door shuts)

(♫ Music continues inside)

I can hear he’s still up.

♫ Traces of a Long forgotten tune
you left behind

♫ Make failures of my triumphs

♫ Cos I waited till you slept

♫ To cry

Oh.

I hope I’m not intruding this late.

- No, you’re not intruding.
- Good.

Well, Linda, I didn’t expect
to find you here tonight.

- I took your secretary to dinner.
- Oh.

I had some talks and I got an offer based
on the tracks we put down this afternoon.

That’s terrific. Are they gonna
back the whole album?

Well, they’re willing to listen to it.

By the way, take a look at those,
would you? I’d appreciate it.

New writer. He’s got some talent.

Also, there has been some talk
about scoring a film.

That’s a bit over my head, isn’t it?
I can read music but I can’t write it.

- Well...
- I can.

Well, I’m sure that you’d be
a great deal of help to Nick.

We’ll have to talk about that
when it’s not so late.

Would you take me home, Web?
I was just leaving.

Yes, I can see that.

- Good night, Nick. See you tomorrow.
- Good night.

Yes, we will both see you tomorrow.

Good night, Nick

Good night, Web.

(Footsteps, door opens)

Shall I fetch a glass of brandy, Mr Cooper?

Er, not tonight, thank you, Mrs B.

Helps you to sleep.

- I don’t need any help.
- Of course you don’t.

Mr B has locked up. We’re quite safe.

Good night.

Good night.

(Woman screams)

(Gasps)

(Panting) Jesus.

My God.

(Creaking)

(Haunting, echoing laugh)

(Echoing shouts and screams)

Stay away.

Stay away, damn it!

(Echoing shrieks, knocking)

(Knocking, eerie laughter)

(Laughing stops)

(Knocking continues)

My poor boy, what is it?
Did you have a nightmare?

- It was real. I saw it.
- Saw what?

I heard a scream. I heard it scream.

Heard what? What are you talking about?

Mr B - does he use a wheelchair?

- No, dear.
- Is there anyone else in this house?

Not a living soul.

Now, why don’t you go back to bed
and try and get some sleep?

Mrs B, I heard it scream.

Of course you did, dear.
We all hear things in our worst dreams.

Horrible, dreadful memories of the devil.

You can overcome them. You can.

I’m sorry, Mrs B.

I’m fine, now.

Good night, then.

Good night.

(Sighs)

(Birdsong)

(Tuts)

This is going to hurt a little.

(Rattling)

(Clinking)

(Clinking continues)

(Creaking)

I’m sorry if I startled you.

(Laughs nervously)
I thought you were in the garden.

Oh, I was in the garden.

- Now I’m in here.
- Yes.

Yeah, well, I was just, er, having a look
around this beautiful house.

- I haven’t really explored.
- I wouldn’t explore too far.

You could get lost in a house like this.

Oriental mythology? Isn’t that
kinda heavy reading before breakfast?

It is. I don’t understand a word of it.
I was looking for my book on tree surgery.

And there it was, lying right there.

(Laughs quietly) Tree surgery?

You see that tree out there?

260 years old, that is.

That would explain the wrinkles.

Screaming. Screaming with pain, it was.

- Really?
- (Mrs B) Breakfast!

Oh, we mustn’t be late for Mrs B’s
breakfast. That would never do.

Oh, er...

Did Mrs B tell you about my nightmare?

She’s an excellent cook, my wife.

- Hello, miss.
- Morning, Mrs B.

- Coffee?
- No thanks.

- Hi.
- Morning.

Hey, what’s the matter? You look terrible.

Oh, charming. Just what an egocentric
likes to hear first thing in the morning.

I feel fine, thank you.

All is illusion. I’ll be in the workroom.

Linda, why don’t we take the day off today?

We could have a picnic, huh?

OK. I could boll some eggs, make a salad.

And a cold bottle of Mosel.

Pâté, turkey, cold ham.

Perhaps I could spread the butter for you.

(Typewriter clicking)

(Women singing) ♫ Doo doo-doo doo doo

♫ Doo-doo doo

♫ Doo doo-doo doo doo

♫ Doo-doo doo ♫

(Door opens)

Is there something I can do for you, Harry?

Keys, Mr Jones.
You gave me the wrong ones yesterday.

- The keys?
- For Nick’s penthouse.

He wants me to go over
and pick up some stuff.

- Oh, I see.
- I didn’t wanna trouble you.

They’re right there.

Thanks.

Haven’t you found your own set yet?

No, sir. I’ve reported them lost.

Mr Webster, could I have a word
with you a minute?

- Anything you want out of there?
- No. Should there be?

Well, I’ll be off then.

Mr Webster?

Huh?

I’ve been meaning to talk to you.

You see, I’ve studied singing
for six years now

and, well, I’m really sick of these
session jobs and chorus gigs.

And I was wondering if...
if there was anything you could do for me.

(Gall) ‘There is something
you can do for me, Mr Webster.’

There is something you can do
for me, Mr Webster.

There is something you can do
for me, Mr Webster.

- And what’s that, Gall?
- Let Nick go.

Long leave of absence. Call it what you like.

- What will you be offering him?
- The chance to do his own thing.

I want him to come home. Make his own
kind of music. New York, maybe LA.

I don’t want my husband
a has-been teen idol before he’s 30.

You’re crazy. You’re just being selfish.

Nick’s not ready for that.

And when he is, I’ll be the first to know.

Mr Webster,
I’m used to getting my own way.

(Woman) I mean,
if I could just audition for you.

Any time.

Anywhere.

Anywhere it’s convenient.

Oh, er, sure. Er, why don’t you come back
later this afternoon?

Oh. Oh, thank you, Mr Webster.

(Seagulls crying)

Thanks. Oh. Hey, Nick,
this was a great idea.

I know.

Is there someone?

There’s someone.

- Close?
- Not really.

- Not any more?
- (Laughs) I don’t know.

- Kiss me again. I’d like to think about that.
- All right.

What is it?

Did you hear anything strange
when you left last night?

I don’t know. What do you mean by strange?

(Foghorn)

A corpse in a wheelchair?

Are you sure you didn’t take anything
before you went to bed?

- You mean, was I smoking dope?
- Or something stronger?

No, I don’t do that any more.
Remember my friend, Dave Leaman?

- Sax player. Course I do.
- Well, he OD’d on smack.

Now I don’t even smoke French cigarettes.

A corpse in a wheelchair.

What could that be symbolic of?

Never mind symbolic, sunshine.
It was fucking there.

(Foghorn outside)

(Whirring)

Everything logical
points to me imagining it. I can see that.

You know, you’re very tense.

- Hey.
- Hm?

- You know, all this necking isn’t right.
- Oh, I know, it’s just awful.

- So I’m gonna insist on something.
- What?

Make love to me.

(Foghorn)

(Creaking)

(Files buzzing)

(Inhales) Dead cat.

(Squeaking)

(Whirring)

(Shrieks)

(Agonised screams)

This, erm, this someone,

er, do I know him?

I mean I wouldn’t want to cheat on a friend.

You know him
but it’s not what you’re thinking.

And what am I thinking?

Comfy cohabitation,
marriage offer pending.

It’s nothing like that.
Nothing worth mentioning.

Good.

- So who was the lucky guy?
- (Sighs)

Webster.

Oh, great. The guy that holds my future
in his hands is not even worth mentioning?

- It was a pretty casual kind of thing.
- Oh, I get it. Kind of a...

private lonely hearts’ club, huh?

(Laughs) Something like that. Besides, he...

He what?

Never mind.

OK, Miss Everett, I can accept that.

But will Webster Jones?

I think we should take dear,
lonely Web to dinner tonight.

The three of us. Just to keep things straight.

I wouldn’t want him to find out
from the janitor.

I think he can manage one day without me.

Oh, don’t worry.
I think he’ll be delighted to see us.

(♫ Crackling record)

♫ Those happy hours

♫ I spent with you tonight, love

♫ They’re always dreamed of in my memory

♫ I can’t forget the love light
shining in your eyes... ♫

(♫ Record continues, muffled)

- ♫ ..you come back to... ♫
- (Doorbell)

(Doorbell)

(Linda sighs)

- Guess he’s not home.
- There’s a light on in the bedroom window.

Probably to keep burglars out.
He does that a lot.

He does, does he?

Yeah, he does.

- Will you stay with me tonight?
- Nick, I...

J-J-Just tonight. No commitment.

If you don’t like it there’s...always
a new model coming down the pipeline.

Do you always have to bring things down
to such an acidic level?

I’m sorry.

Let’s go up to the house,
put on some music.

I can recommend it. It’s mine.

It’s an offer I can’t refuse.

Come on.

♫ And so I pass the time

♫ In dreams we’ve had, love

♫ Just Longing for the day

♫ When you come back to me ♫

(Engine roars)

(Linda, laughing) Couldn’t you
have driven any faster?

So I drive too fast, do I?
I’ll show you what fast driving is.

- (Slap)
- Shall I fetch your nightly brandy, sir?

- That’d be nice, Mrs B.
- And Miss Everett?

- Yes, thank you.
- I’ll be down to get them in a minute.

(Linda giggles, Nick laughs)

(Door opens)

Doris?

What is it?

It’s those people.

(Sighs) Oh, God, Albert.

Those...scum.

How much Longer?

Oh, I don’t know. It’s...it’s my nerves.

(Sobbing)

Come now. Look.

I brought you some rosebuds
from the greenhouse.

Rosebud.

- (Radio playing)
- I did tell you I had a boyfriend.

Uh-huh.

But it had to be Webster, didn’t it?
We’re not exactly best friends as it is.

I meant nothing to him.
Besides, he hates women.

- Yeah, but still.
- Oh, come on, Nick. You made Webster.

Your sound’s on every third tape they sell.

My fucking epitaph.

- Roll over, Beethoven.
- (Shrieks)

(Whistling)

(Chiming)

(Crickets chirruping)

(Woman moaning)

(Moaning continues)

Linda?

(Quiet sobbing)

Linda.

(Sobbing gets louder)

(Sobbing stops)

(Sobbing resumes)

(Sobbing gets louder)

(Sobbing continues)

(Sobbing gets louder)

(Child, crying) No.

Oh, no. No, no!

Oh, no. No.

(Thud)

(Sobbing continues)

(Child) No.

Oh, no. Don’t. No!

(Sobbing fades and stops)

(Haunting screams)

Ugh!

(Retching)

- Linda!
- (Haunting laughter)

Linda!

(Laughter continues)

Linda.

(Coughs)

(Desperately) Linda!

Linda!

Linda!

Linda!

(Laughter stops)

Linda!

Linda!

Linda! Linda!

(Crying) Linda.

(Nick sobbing)

(Indistinct)

And that’s how we found him, poor boy.

Just sitting, huddled in a corner,
sucking his thumb,

tears streaming down his face.

Had he shown any signs of odd behaviour?

Well, I hardly know the gentleman.

But while he was here,
he seemed quite normal?

Go ahead, Mrs B, tell the doctor.

It’s for Nick’s benefit.

- At night...
- (Doctor) Yes?

Well, he seemed to imagine things.

Like... How can I put it? Like a child,
you know? Terrified of the dark.

- Any examples?
- Oh, yes.

Examples.

W-Well, two nights ago,
I got up to...you know...

- What time was this?
- Three o’clock.

And there was Mr Cooper,
creeping about the hall.

Gave me quite a start, I can tell you.

And then, last night, he woke up screaming.
I had to knock on his door.

Poor boy. Too much coffee. I warned him.

Thank God my husband’s got his roses.

A man needs something, don’t you think?

Yes. Yes, thank you.

(Clock chimes)

- Well, I appreciate you coming over.
- Oh, that’s OK.

It’s not really as bad as it looks, is it?
He’s been under a lot of pressure lately.

Domestic problems, the pressure
of completing the album.

Could be all of those things. I can’t say
until he’s had specialist observation.

Don’t get your hopes up.
I’ve seen patients like this before.

- It’s the look in their eyes.
- What look?

Madness.

- Oh, good. Well, how do you do?
- Hello.

- How’s Nick?
- We’ve sedated him.

I understand you and the doctor
searched the house from top to bottom.

Yes, we did. The couple that take care
of the place were a lot of help.

Mm-hm. The housekeeper said that Nick
was going on about a decomposing head.

Yeah but there wasn’t anything at the house.
There was no head, no hat box.

And there were no materials
with which to present the illusion of that.

- Could he have been on drugs?
- He didn’t even take aspirin.

He lost his best friend that way.

Drink? It’s the classic DT syndrome.

No, social drinker. You can’t get social DT’s.
He was a social drinker.

Was? He’s not gonna die, Mr Jones.

No, it sounds to me
like a touch of hysterical exhaustion.

The nerves can stretch, you know,
but the brain eventually becomes exhausted.

It’s not uncommon amongst creative,

ambitious, striving sorts of people.

Add a gifted imagination
and domestic confusion

and you’re into nightmare country.

The French call it fatigue mortelle.
It’s a good description.

- Yeah, poor Nick.
- He’ll clearly have to rest.

Of course. When will he be well again?

I’ll give him deep sleep for a few days.

I wouldn’t like to guess
how he’ll come out of it.

But if you were to guess.

His EEG is nearer to normal
than I anticipated.

His subconscious brain activity has not been
thrown into irreconcilable trauma.

What Ian means, Webster,
is that with proper rest,

Nick will be back to his old self before Long.

Yes, but how Long?

I’m not prepared to say.

Welcome home.

What should I, er...

What should I say?

- How about, ‘‘Where am I?’’
- OK. Where am I?

You’re in the Belmont hospital.
You’ve had a nice sleep for five days.

It says here if you should waken
while I’m on duty,

I should tell you, tactfully, what happened.

What happened?

You went nuts.

Webster, will you stop that pacing?
Nick’s been in capable hands for two weeks.

- Great.
- I told you, we’ve got good news today.

- Soda?
- Whatever you’re having.

Right. On its own.

Nick, you still believe
you saw a head, don’t you?

Admit it.

Yeah, I...

I saw Gall’s head.

I can still smell it.

I admit it.

And the putrefying corpse in a wheelchair?

- Yes.
- And the screams and the sobbing?

Yes.

All right.

How far do you trust me?

- All the way.
- Do you want my diagnosis?

Go ahead.

Classic nervous fatigue,
leading to hysterical hallucinations.

You’ve been away from it all for six years.

You come back, throw yourself
in at the deep end - contracts, deals,

worrying about money, resenting being
ripped off by people like Webster Jones.

- Am I right?
- So far.

Then your wife, your prop,

leaves you, after God knows
how many casual affairs.

You feel guilty about losing her.
Maybe you neglected her.

- OK.
- Then anxiety sets in.

Anxiety that maybe
she isn’t really coming back to you.

So what do you do?
You close up the penthouse,

cut yourself off from the old life
and start a new one.

But now, everything seems unreal.

The affair with Linda, the talk
about a movie score -

nothing seems real,
away from your old, familiar life.

Now, how does that sound?

I could buy that.

But did I really imagine these things?

The screaming and the...the head?

Yes, I believe so. And those symptoms
may very well recur.

But if you can convince yourself
that it’s only in your own mind,

then I think you’ll very soon recover.

- How would you like to be discharged?
- I like it.

Well, good luck.
Don’t forget to take the pills.

I, er... I’m still worried
about those hallucinations.

Oh, don’t be. You’ll cope. Couple of months,
you won’t believe they happened.

- Thanks, Doc.
- Don’t mention it. And Nick...

- Yeah.
- Go back to the penthouse.

Open it up. Play some sounds,
look at the river.

- Give it a try.
- I’ll do that.

I’ll drive you to the house.
We won’t start on the album right away,

- we’ll give it a couple of days.
- It’ll be Fine. Web?

- Huh?
- You know, Linda never came to see me.

Not once. Where is she, Web?

Well, the morning after they found you,

there was a note on my desk from her.

She said that she wanted to go away

and think things over.
Whatever the hell that means.

I haven’t seen her since.
Must have tried to reach her twice a day.

Never any answer.
I had to hire myself a temporary.

By the way, what was going on
between you and Linda?

Nothing.

Well, if she left that night,

she mustn’t have known
that you were in the hospital.

Don’t you worry. You’ll see Linda again.

You can be sure of that.

(Crow cawing)

- Well, see you, Web.
- Right.

Feeling better, Mr C?

Come away in. You’ll never guess
what I’ve cooked for you.

(Man on radio) ‘That was
from Nick Cooper’s last album,

‘How Many Mlles To Jupiter?’

‘Nick’s just out of hospital,
after treatment for a bad back.

‘I won’t ask you how you got that, Nick.

‘Let’s keep it in that late night
romantic mood with this little piece.

‘And, if you’re there, Nick, get well soon.’

(♫ Romantic intro)

(Quiet sobbing)

(Louder sobbing)

(♫ Instrumental)

(Birdsong)

(Man speaking French on radio)

(Clicks off)

(Quiet sobbing)

(Louder sobbing)

(Whirring)

(Grinding)

(Foghorns, distant)

- (Woman) ‘Amalgamated Sound.’
- It’s Nick Cooper.

- Can I speak to Web, please?
- ‘One moment, please.’

Hello, kiddo. Where are you?

- ‘At the penthouse.’
- Penthouse?

Sure. Isn’t that what the doctor
told me to do? Relive my memories?

- Get ‘em out of my system?
- I guess so.

I didn’t think you’d wanna start it so soon.

Web, there’s something strange
about this place.

There’s new carpet on the floor and, er...

the walls have been scrubbed white.

And there’s an antiseptic smell
about the place. In the elevator, too.

And, er...

Gall’s been here.

I can feel it, Web. I know she’s been here.

Gall is probably not even in the country.

Well, where’s Harry? He’s been here, too.

Harry? He just disappeared.

I-I think he took off.
He’s been threatening to do that.

I wouldn’t care if I never saw him again.

‘I would.’

Look, er, where are you going now?

- Back to the house.
- Oh. All right. Er, you do that.

Look, just don’t talk
to anybody else about this.

- I’ll be right out.
- Right.

Hello, Mr Cooper, you’re back early.

I’ve been to my apartment.

- There’s something weird about that place.
- Weird? Is there, dear?

Yeah. Someone scrubbed all the walls.

Well, that was helpful of them.

- There’s a brand-new carpet, too.
- Good heavens.

The elevator had a stench
of, er, disinfectant.

Sounds as if somebody had a party there
and had to clean up.

Mm. Quite a party.

- Must have been Harry.
- Harry?

(Nick) Mm.

Naughty Harry.

You know what I think?

I mean, I know, erm,
I’ve just been ill and everything, but, er...

I think Harry’s been murdered, Mrs B.

Mrs B?

(Shrieking)

(Shrieking)

- Why are you doing this?
- You killed her.

- Killed who?
- I’ll tell the bastard.

We had a daughter once. A lovely girl.

Just starting university, she was,
studying sociology.

Mr B and I adored her.

She adored us.

We called her Rosebud.

- Aah!
- Not yet, Albert.

She was a pop music fan,

like many young people.

You were her idol.

You, with your foul contortions

and your lewd, suggestive songs.

With your music that drives innocent
children to behave like beasts in a farmyard!

Disgusting.

Then you married that slut, Gall.

Your dear Gall.

(Laughing) Whose maggoty head
you really did see.

Oh, yes.

I wish I could have heard her scream
like Albert did.

The day you announced your marriage
to Gall, our Rosebud went to bed,

surrounded by poems she’d written to you,

and killed herself.

Have you ever seen a child
die of strychnine poisoning?

You scum!

- You can’t blame me.
- Kill the bastard!

- Aah!
- (Groans)

(Mr B) Oh. Oh...

No.

Oh, Doris.

(Moaning, crying) Oh, Doris.

(Moans, gasps)

(Moans)

(Sobbing)

Holy shit.

- What kind of pills do I take for that?
- (Gasps)

- Damn it. Did you hear something?
- (Muttering) I... Oh...

- (Tapping)
- Get an ambulance.

Yeah.

(Footsteps)

- Hello?
- (Tapping)

- Hello!
- (Louder tapping)

- Hello!
- (Tapping)

(Woman, muffled) Help.

- Hey!
- (Woman’s voice, indistinct)

(Woman, muffled) In here. Oh, Nick.

OK. And make it quick.

(Mr B groaning)

(Thudding)

Linda, just stand back.

(Shivering) Nick.

- Oh.
- (Linda sobs)

Jesus.

Just like it was the day she died.

They’re crazy, Nick.

They were gonna drive you mad
and then brick you up with her,

with me.

(Sobbing)

Come on, it’s OK now.

It’s OK.

Mrs B, she told me how they did it
with tapes and loudspeakers.

The sobbing. And Gall...

They murdered her.

(Crying)

Come on, let’s get out of here.

(Birdsong)

(Police radio, indistinct)

I’m sorry you had to get mixed up
in all this.

Do I still have a job?

Sure you do.

(Siren)

Well, how about that?

This was their house.

There never were any vacationing owners.

So...you’re not crazy.

- Doesn’t look like it.
- Great.

That means we can get back to work
on the album.

- You’re something else, you know that?
- Business is business, kiddo. Mm.

Sir, I’ve left two officers inside.
I think everything’s OK.

- Oh, good.
- Is there anything else we can do?

- Web?
- Yeah.

Nothing.

- Is there anything else we can do?
- No, I don’t think so. That winds it up.

- Yeah. OK. Goodbye.
- Bye-bye.