The Perfect Girl

ZOE

They bring me upstairs and tell me to lie on the single bed that’s in Richard’s office. The bedding smells of a man and it’s creased as if it’s been used, but it’s soft and comfortable, and I feel sleep taking hold of me like it sometimes used to do at the Unit: more of a cosh than a slipping away, as if your body has decided that you need time out and that’s the end of the matter.

At the Unit they used to tell me it was shock that made me into a virtual narcoleptic for the first couple of months.

As I shut my eyes, I feel the weight and sag of my dad sitting down on the end of the bed. As I slip away, I hope he’s not doing that staring at me like he’ll never be able to work me out thing, but, by the time I wake again, he’s gone and I’m relieved.

The waking is sudden, though: it comes via a deep, sharp intake of breath, and a sudden urge to be sitting up, as if the covers were about to choke me, and then the knowledge that my mum is no longer here flows back into my conscious mind like water coursing through the holes in a colander.

The digital clock on Richard’s bedside table tells me that I’ve only been asleep for about twenty minutes. I can hear voices downstairs but they’re faint and indistinguishable.

I let my tears fall silently because I don’t want anybody to hear me sobbing and to come with sympathy eyes. I don’t like people to see me cry because that’s ingrained in me since I was little. ‘Don’t cry if you lose a competition, Zoe, that’s called being a bad loser,’ or ‘If you keep crying, your practice will take twice as long as it needs to.’

Not crying publicly could be seen as a little tribute to my mum.

It’s also a tribute to the Unit where prolonged sobbing could make you a target. It keeps other people awake, you see, and they shout at you that you’re fucking with their heads and that they’ll give you something to cry about if you like.

So my tears fall silently and I think about how my mum has always been there to tell me what to do, and now I don’t know who’s going to do that.

I think of Lucas, who lost his mum too, and that reminds me of the email that he deleted, and I decide that I want to read the rest of the script. The first part was kind of soppy and strange, but there must be something more in it or he wouldn’t have asked me to delete it if it was just like a love story all the way through. I know it’s not on my email any more, but it will be on my mum’s account still, surely, because it wasn’t just me he sent it to.

I don’t have my phone any longer because the detectives took that, just like I told Lucas they would, so that once again they can comb through my private world and then pretend in interview that ‘internet experts’ have told them what all the text speak abbreviations stand for.

They’ll see the panop messages that freaked me out earlier, but I don’t mind that too much, because it wasn’t illegal for me to use panop, just ‘not recommended’ by Jason, and I can explain that Lucas found out about me and he sent them to wind me up.

At Richard’s desk, which is just a few feet away from the bed I’m lying on, I click the computer mouse and his monitor comes to life silently. There’s some of his work up on the screen, but I want the internet so I carefully reduce the windows he has open and go online. No passwords are required at any stage, and that is so different from our house where everything is password protected because of ‘the importance of internet and personal data security’.

My mum’s email is easy to access. I haven’t done it often, but just sometimes because I saw her password once and that makes it very tempting. Her password is ZoeGrace and some numbers.

Her email account is very boring, though. She mostly emails her beautician and hair salon, she gets loads of shopping order confirmation emails, and she talks to some piano people, and baby group friends, and sometimes she and Chris have incredibly boring conversations by email about paint colours or when the man’s coming to trim the tree or stuff like that.

It’s easy to find Lucas’s email and I see that it hasn’t been opened yet, so I click on it. He’s sent my mum the exact same thing he sent me – it’s near the top of her inbox, just above an email from Chris with the title ‘Appointment on Wednesday’ as if my mum’s his secretary or something.

Richard and Tess must have super-efficient WiFi because the attachment that Lucas sent opens immediately and I start to read on from where I left off.

‘WHAT I KNOW’

BY LUCAS KENNEDY

ACT II

INT. CHRIS AND JULIA’S NEW HOME. DAY.

JULIA is up a ladder, hair tied up, overalls on, in the middle of a lovely room, which has gracious and generous proportions. She’s painting the intricate plasterwork on the ceiling rose.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

My marriage was lovely at first, and my only sadness was settling down so far away from my mother, so I wasn’t able to be with her when she died. I hadn’t really had time to make many friends in Bristol before I met Chris and our life together sort of overwhelmed me, so I threw myself into making our marriage a wonderful place. We renovated a beautiful house, which Chris bought for us, and very soon we discovered that we were expecting a baby.

We see JULIA pause in her painting, rub loose strands of hair from her eyes, and put a hand to her stomach. She has felt a twinge, and we see in her eyes that she knows.

INT. KENNEDY HOUSE, CHRIS AND JULIA’S BEDROOM. DAY.

The room is beautifully decorated and a lined crib sits at the end of the bed. Sitting in bed, her newborn baby in her arms, is JULIA.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

The pregnancy went swimmingly. I was healthy and energetic throughout it. And on a warm May day, my baby was born. We named him Lucas. Chris chose the name.

We see the baby close up. He’s beautiful.

DYING JULIA (V.O.) (CONT’D.)

The problem was, Chris never bonded with the baby.

As the camera pulls away, we see CHRIS standing at the end of the bed. He’s looking at his wife, who is entirely absorbed in her young son, and the expression on his face is blank. He feels nothing. He turns and leaves the room, and JULIA, lost in her son’s eyes, is oblivious. It’s only when the door closes behind him that she raises her head.

JULIA

Chris?

INT. CHRIS AND JULIA’S HOUSE, SITTING ROOM. DAY.

It’s Christmas Day, a few years later. We see a lovely tall tree, and a fire in the hearth. The Christmas decorations are tasteful, restrained and conservative.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

After Lucas’s birth we still gave the impression of being a happy family, and we often were. But something had changed.

CHRIS, JULIA and LUCAS are opening presents. It’s not an especially warm scene, there’s too much formality about the little group for that, but they’re going through the motions cheerfully enough, although the three-year-old LUCAS seems to be rather a quiet, guarded child. When he’s given a present he looks to his father for permission before opening it.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

The problem was that since Lucas had been born, Chris had become prone to losing his temper. At first it wasn’t too bad, but as the years went by, it got more serious, and more frightening.

LUCAS has opened his present and is looking at it on the floor. JULIA is on a chair beside him and she too is opening a gift from CHRIS. She gasps when she unwraps it as it’s clearly a very expensive ring, bigger and more flashy than her engagement ring.

CHRIS

What’s the matter?

JULIA

Nothing’s the matter. It’s beautiful. I’m just shocked, in a good way, of course, that’s all.

CHRIS

You don’t like it.

JULIA

Darling. I love it. It’s just so much more than I was expecting. It’s wonderful, really.

She takes the ring out of its box and tries to slip it on to her finger, but it won’t fit.

JULIA (CONT’D)

Oh dear!

She pulls it off and tries it on another finger but the ring is too small. She laughs nervously. CHRIS is watching her like a hawk. LUCAS plays on the carpet, oblivious.

JULIA (CONT’D)

Do you think they might be able to swap it?

CHRIS

Put it on.

JULIA

Darling, it’s just a little bit small, I’m sure if we asked them they would be able to loosen it, don’t you think?

CHRIS

Put it on. Not on that finger. Rings don’t go on little fingers.

JULIA glances at LUCAS, and then back at CHRIS, who gazes at her impassively, arms crossed.

JULIA

Don’t you want to see what I got for you?

CHRIS

I want to see you put the ring on.

We see from JULIA’s face that she knows there’s no point in arguing with CHRIS, that she fears an escalation. CHRIS watches without flinching as JULIA forces the ring over the knuckle of her second finger. It takes time and JULIA’s clearly in pain as she does it, though she stays silent, so LUCAS will not notice. When the ring is finally on, JULIA holds a trembling hand out to CHRIS to show him. CHRIS takes her fingers and turns them a little from one side to the other to examine the ring. It’s impossible to ignore the red, scraped and bruised skin which bulges around it.

CHRIS (CONT’D)

It looks beautiful. Well done.

CHRIS leans in to kiss JULIA and she submits to this with an attempt at a smile.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

I kept the ring on for a week before going to hospital to have it cut off and receiving antibiotics for the infection that had crept into the broken skin underneath. When Chris found out, he pulled a clump of hair out of the back of my head and told me I was lucky that was all he did.

INT. KITCHEN IN THE KENNEDY HOUSE. EVENING.

Six-year-old LUCAS is finishing his supper while JULIA prepares something for herself and CHRIS. LUCAS and JULIA exchange a smile and we see that the atmosphere between them is sweet and lovely.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

Chris didn’t always behave like that. In fact he was mostly very generous and loving, but there were triggers. And, as time passed, I learned to recognise them.

The peaceful scene is interrupted by the sound of a car pulling up outside and then the slam of a car door. JULIA glances anxiously at the kitchen clock.

JULIA

Oh! I think Daddy’s home early. Lucas, do you think you could run and play in your bedroom while I finish making supper for him?

The dinner she’s preparing consists of piles of chopped ingredients. It’s nowhere near ready, and we see that makes her nervous. LUCAS gets up and she ushers him out of the room and into the hallway.

JULIA (CONT’D)

Well done, poppet, I’ll be up to give you a kiss later.

LUCAS

Will Daddy?

JULIA

I don’t know. He might be a bit tired, but I will, I promise.

She’s speaking urgently now, time is running out. We hear the back door open.

CHRIS

Hello? Julia?

JULIA

(whispering)

What do you need to remember to do?

LUCAS

Put my story CD on.

JULIA

Good! And what else?

LUCAS

Lock my door.

JULIA

Well done, darling. You’re a clever boy.

When JULIA is sure he’s gone upstairs and she’s heard the lock of his door sliding into place and the beginning of a story CD playing, she straightens her outfit and her hair and goes back to the kitchen.

JULIA (CONT’D)

Hello, darling. How are you?

CHRIS

Where were you?

She shuts the kitchen door behind her.

INT. KITCHEN IN THE KENNEDY HOUSE. NIGHT.

It’s just an hour later and there’s carnage in the room. Food and glasses have been overturned and it’s clear that something violent has occurred.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

But even as things escalated, after every act of violence, Chris was sorry.

CHRIS and JULIA sit on the floor, both in disarray. JULIA’s blouse is ripped, her cheeks are flushed high with panic and her hair is very tousled, but she and CHRIS cradle each other, though he grips her more tightly than she does him.

CHRIS

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

And every time, I forgave him because, if I’m honest, I could see no way to leave him. I was afraid of what he might do to us if I did. And I felt shame. Oh, the shame I felt. Shame kept my lips sealed.

Unseen by CHRIS, we see the desperation on JULIA’s face as he strokes her hair.

INT. PRIVATE HOSPITAL, CONSULTANT’S ROOM. DAY.

JULIA and CHRIS sit together on one side of a desk, and a DOCTOR on the other.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

The problem is, that a life lived in fear takes its toll on you, so by the time I had a diagnosis of a brain tumour, five years later, all my confidence, and most of my strength had sapped away.

CHRIS

Is there anything that can be done?

DOCTOR

We can try to treat the tumour, to control it, but we can’t cure it, and surgery is far too risky.

CHRIS

How long would she have, with treatment?

DOCTOR

It’s hard to be precise. Treatment could extend life by one month, or maybe even as much as three. But, and it’s a significant but, treatment can have some extreme side effects.

There’s a beat while CHRIS and JULIA absorb what this means.

JULIA

So it’s a quality of life issue.

DOCTOR

Yes.

JULIA

Be treated and be very sick for more months and then die anyway, or turn down treatment and die more quickly but more comfortably.

DOCTOR

That’s probably what it boils down to.

CHRIS

Is it worth getting another opinion? Are you sure?

DOCTOR

You’re most welcome to get another opinion but I will put my reputation on the line here, and tell you that I’ll be absolutely staggered if you’re told anything different.

EXT. A HOSPITAL CAR PARK. DAY.

CHRIS and JULIA get into the car, each in their own world.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

We got another opinion anyway, it wasn’t as though Chris couldn’t afford it, and, as the first doctor predicted, it was identical to his. Chris didn’t take the news well.

We see CHRIS thump the steering wheel of the car, and we see him turn on JULIA. He grabs her hair in what looks like a familiar routine, and goes to smash her head against the passenger window, but stops just before it makes impact, and holds it there, less than an inch from the glass.

CHRIS

What am I going to do?

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

And, for the first time in my life, I stood up to him.

JULIA

Just this once you are going to let go of my hair, and you are going to drive us home and we are going to break the news to Lucas together.

We see surprise on CHRIS’s face, and then we see that he is hugely tempted to bash her head against the window even harder than at first, but he lets go and the hard expression on his face cracks. He starts the ignition.

Camera stays on JULIA’s face as they drive away, the car lurching too quickly as CHRIS reverses and then speeds out of the hospital gates.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

I don’t know why it worked when I stood up to him for the first and only time that day. He drove too fast, as usual, because he knew I hated speed, and he continued to bully me in small ways. But he never touched me again. Maybe it was because he feared that the medical staff would work out what was happening now that they had ownership of my body.

We see JULIA sneak a glance at CHRIS, searching the desperate expression on his face for clues.

DYING JULIA (V.O.)

But, you know, in the end, I think it was a fear of death, of death’s power. Death was going to take me so he couldn’t have me any more, so perhaps that meant I wasn’t worth bullying. Or maybe it was fear that if he touched me again I might somehow infect him, bring him into death’s orbit. I didn’t dwell on it though, because the bigger question was this: in a family like ours, how could I ever leave Lucas?

As CHRIS and JULIA arrive home they see LUCAS, looking out of a front window. He’s obviously been waiting for them.