1 EXT. SEASIDE, DAY
Open on a panoramic vista of the ocean. Seagulls screech and
spiral in the air as the sun glints on the gentle waves.
2 INT. AQUARIUM, DAY
A young boy is stood holding his mother’s hand, his face
pressed up against the glass of an aquarium.
Fish and rays swim lazily back and forth in the still
turquoise water. The boy’s eyes fill with wonder, the blue
light from the water glowing on his cheeks.
3 EXT. SEASIDE, DAY
An elderly man, JOE, is sat on a bench staring wistfully out
towards the horizon. He is clad in a pair of worn jeans and
a thick jumper, his face is covered in a full, graying beard
and a sturdy walking stick is resting between his legs.
Joe surveys the scene with a melancholic air before
painfully gaining his feet and hobbling off towards his
home.
4 EXT. HARBOUR, DAY.
Joe is wandering along the harbourside, staring out at the
boats assembled there.
The gulls call in the air and the wind plays in the sails of
the trawlers and pleasure boats. Joe nods to some of the
mariners, but they barely notice him.
5 INT. PUB, NIGHT
Joe is sat on his own in a grotty maritime-themed pub,
several empty pint glasses arranged in front of him.
The pub is filled with the low murmur of conversation, but
Joe is lost in isolation.
Joe shakily stands up and staggers towards the bathroom; he
is very drunk. As he walks through the crowd his reeling and
staggering causes some to step aside.
They glance towards Joe disapprovingly but he remains
oblivious. Joe clumsily uses the toilet, zipping his fly too
early, then stares blearily at himself in the mirror whilst
washing his hands.
Joe exits the bathroom and emerges back into the bar area,
pushing aside the heavy bathroom door. There is a dark stain
on the crotch of his light khaki trousers. Joe continues on
unaware and waywardly makes for the exit.
6 INT. JOE’S HOUSE, LATE AFTERNOON
Joe, looking incredibly red eyed and sorry for himself, is
cooking a meal.Sausages fry in oil while a pan of mash
simmers on the stove.
The house is comfortable but sterile. It doesn’t seem like a
home. Joe dishes up his meal and takes a seat at the table.
There are two chairs at the table, but only one place is
made up.
7 INT. JOE’S HOUSE, EVENING
Joe is sat in his living room, watching a black and white
film on the television, the light from the set flickering
around the otherwise dark room. Joe is lost in a deep
armchair, another is across from him; empty.
8 INT. JOE’S HOUSE, NIGHT
Joe is stood at the sink, washing up. His job done, Joe
empties the kitchen dustbin and ties off the bag, preparing
to take it out the back.
9 EXT. CLIFFTOP, NIGHT
Joe’s front porch looks out towards the ocean, the line of
the cliff edge just visible against the darkening sky. A
young woman is stood near the cliff edge, her blonde hair
and light dress blowing in the wind.
Joe looks for a moment and casually waves in her direction
before continuing around to the back of his house. The girl
fails to acknowledge him.
A moment later, when Joe returns, the woman is gone.
Quickly, fearing the worst, Joe hastens towards where she
was last seen, his limp troubling him greatly, but still he
lurches up towards the cliff edge as fast as his limp will
allow.
He soon reaches the drop and stares down towards the ocean.
The waves beat relentlessly against the rocks some fifty
feet below. There is no sign of the woman. Reluctantly, Joe
returns to his house.
10 INT. PUB, NIGHT
Joe is propping up the bar of the same pub, deep in
conversation with Phil, who seems distracted as he polishes
tends his bar.
JOE
I’ve lived in that house for more
than twenty years Phil, and in that
time there’s been seven suicides
from that one spot. Seven! Those
poor souls...
PHIL
Joe...
JOE
We don’t get many people up my way
at the best of times, and never at
that hour. And what she was
wearing, just a thin dress, like a
gown, at this time of year! You
tell me, what was she doing up
there if she didn’t mean to kill
herself?
PHIL
I don’t know any more than you do.
If you think she jumped, why don’t
you go to the police?
JOE
I will its just... There wasn’t a
sign of her. I went down again this
morning to have another look and...
nothing. No body, no clothing,
nothing. She was just there one
minute and the next; she
disappeared, like a specter or
something!
11 INT. JOE’S HOUSE, EVENING
Joe is sat in his dining room, the receiver of an old
rotary-dial phone in his hand. He sighs, and starts dialing
999, just as Phil suggested. The phone rings twice, and then
is answered by a harried sounding woman.
WOMAN
Hello, which emergency service do
you require?
Joe glances out of the window into the night, staring
towards the sea, stretching mysteriously out to infinity.
JOE
I... its nothing. False alarm.
Joe gently puts the phone back in the cradle, stands up, and
heads to bed.
12 EXT. SEASIDE, DAWN
Joe is wandering aimlessly along the beach, his leg seeming
to pain him particularly on the uneven ground, the early
morning sun casting a long shadow before him.
The scene is beautiful; the sun is casting a mesmerising
orange light over the water. Joe stops and stares wistfully
out to sea before turning back the way he came with the
intention of making for home.
After a few steps, an impulse causes him to turn back
towards the ocean. A young woman is striding serenely
towards the shore, her blonde hair shimmering in the sun and
her loose dress floating on the surface of the water.
She sees Joe looking at her and meets his eyes. She smiles
coquettishly as she makes her way forwards before the
headland hides her from view. Joe stumbles towards her, his
limp almost imperceptible now. As he reaches the shore and
gains a view beyond the headland, Joe realises that once
again the girl has vanished.
13 EXT. CLIFFTOP, EVENING
Joe has erected a folding chair on the clifftop, a pair of
binoculars hanging around his neck.
He sits there as darkness encroaches on the lonely clifftop,
gently and carefully handrolling a cigarette from materials
he takes from a battered old tobacco tin.
Joe begins to smoke and occasionally scan the horizon with
his binoculars. When the light fails too much to see by, Joe
folds his chair and walks back home.
14 INT. JOE’S BEDROOM, NIGHT
Joe lies prone in bed, his body a vague shape beneath the
bedsheets. The sound of the waves and the call of the gulls
can be heard in the distance.
Suddenly, a knock at the door disturbs the silence, and Joe
stirs from his slumber. The knock sounds again. Joe leaps
from his bed in time to see the girl walking back towards
the cliff edge and the ocean beyond. Joe runs for the
stairs, his stick forgotten for the moment.
By the time Joe makes it outside, she is gone. Glistening,
watery footprints are left on the doorstep and the grass
outside his house. He stands alone in the night, the breeze
fluttering the cord of his dressing gown. His excitement
abated, Joe notices the absence of his stick and limps
painfully back to his front door.
15 INT. JOE’S HOUSE, MORNING
(Montage sequence)
Joe rushes down the stairs and makes a turn at the bottom.
He opens a door which is recessed under the stairs,
revealing a walk-in cupboard.
Joe casts aside some old forgotten objects until he finds
what he’s looking for; a rusty tackle box. Opening the top
he emerges with a dusty Yale key. Joe looks at it for a
while, a faint smile of nostalgia playing across his face.
16 EXT. SEASIDE, DAY
Stood on the beach, Joe takes the key and unlocks the
padlock which secures an old wooden rowing boat to a rusty
metal handrail.
The tatty boat is upturned and half buried in sand and Joe
is forced to painstakingly return it to an upright position.
That done, he proceeds to haul the boat, its paint old and
flaking, towards the sea.
Joe stands, exhausted and wheezing heavily, with the boat
bobbing gently on the small waves. He takes a moment to
catch his breath, and then begins to climb aboard.
(Montage sequence ends)
17 INT. AQUARIUM, DAY
A young boy is stooped down by an artificial rock pool, his
face full of wonder and curiosity.
Crabs scuttle to and fro beneath the surface. The boy
reaches forwards and trails his hand across the surface of
the pool.
18 EXT. ON THE WATER, DAY
Joe begins to row out into the still, open water. He smiles
to himself.
Joe is wearing a white shirt open at the neck. His
complexion is revitalised, and he appears to have gotten
thinner.
On shore, his limp no longer seems to trouble him. He rows
out powerfully and confidently, he appears far more at home
on the water than he does on shore.
He rows out until he is a good distance from land and then
stops, the oars floating on the surface of the water. The
boat begins to turn in a lazy circle as the slight breeze
and the force of the current begin to take effect.
A gentle splash disturbs the silence. Joe turns his head, a
slight smile beginning to play across his lips. The girl is
sat in the boat behind him, her knees drawn up underneath
her. Her hand trails against the surface of the ocean. Joe’s
smile broadens, as he turns to face her. Her head is drawn
coyly to one side. It seems they are very far from land. The
girl smiles as Joe reaches out to caress her cheek.
Fade to white.
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