Gone to Ground (42 page)

He pushed his hand up through his hair and turned his head aside.

"You can find your own way back, I dare say. I think I'll stay here a while on my own."

Will offered a hand and, crossing the narrow road, set off back across the fields. When he turned and looked back, midway, Howard Prince was lost, more or less, to the mist.

It was Lesley, that autumn, who tore the page from the
Nottingham Evening Post
and sent it Helen; Helen who showed it to Will that lunchtime, the sun bright for once and clear, a temperature of twenty-one degrees, the pair of them eating a snatched lunch near the cricket pavilion on the edge of Parker's Piece, Helen with a crayfish and avocado sandwich from Pret, Will enjoying a cinnamon danish with his double-strength coffee. Half of the page was taken up by a photograph of Howard Prince, surrounded by assembled dignitaries, receiving his award as East Midlands Businessman of the Year.

"All right for some," Helen said, lighting a cigarette.

Will finished his coffee, gave the article a second glance, then screwed it up into a ball.

"We'd best to getting back to work," he said.

121.

INT. DRESSING ROOM. NIGHT.

PHILIP is standing at the mirror. As we hear the last bars of "I Must Have That Man," he picks up her lipstick from the dressing table, uncaps it and turns the bottom so that the lipstick itself, dark and lustrous, slides out. The song finishes and as he hears the applause, PHILIP winds the lipstick back from sight, recaps it and sets it back down, just as RUBY enters. PHILIP glances at her in the mirror, but fails to turn around.

RUBY goes up to him and slides her arms around him, resting her face against his back.

PHILIP doesn't respond and after a moment, he steps away.

Close shot of RUBY's face.

RUBY
You're going back to her, aren't
you?

PHILIP looks at her, but won't hold her gaze, as if lacking the courage to answer.

RUBY
Aren't you?

PHILIP
Yes.

A snort of derision from RUBY.

PHILIP
All this, you and me, it's wrong.
(BEAT) It's over, Ruby. I'm going to
marry Alma. If she'll still
have me.

RUBY
(Dismissively)
She'll have you.
(As if shaking herself out of a
mood, she smiles and steps
forward brightly, her hand on
PHILIP'S arm)
Come on, I'll drive you over.

PHILIP
(Uncertain)
There's no need...

RUBY
A chance to play Cupid. Bring
you lovebirds back together. You
don't think I could resist that, do
you?

122.

EXT. COAST ROAD. NIGHT.

In a shot we recognize from the pre-credit sequence, the car is seen hurtling along the narrow, winding road.

INT. GAR. NIGHT.

An expression of fierce concentration on RUBY's face as she drives. PHILIP's face, in contrast, shows alarm and concern.

PHILIP
Don't you think we're going a
little too fast?

In response, RUBY's eyes narrow further as she increases pressure on the accelerator.

124.

EXT. COAST ROAD. NIGHT.

A squeal of brakes as the car just negotiates a bend.

125.

INT/EXT. CAR. NIGHT.

PHILIP
(Pleading)
Ruby! For God's sake?

RUBY
Did you really think I'd give you
up? For her?

PHILIP
Ruby!

RUBY starts to laugh, and, as PHILIP reaches across and tries to take control of the wheel, her laughter becomes more hysterical.

Through the windshield, we see a sharp bend ahead, the road swinging right away from the cliff.

PHILIP
Ruby!

Laughing, RUBY wrenches the wheel to the left and we see the horror on PHILIP's face.

126.

EXT. COAST ROAD. NIGHT.

From the rear, we see the car plunge over the edge of the cliff and hear it crashing down the rocks toward the sea.

127.

EXT. CEMETERY. DAY.

A clear, cloudless day. Faint organ music and the sounds of rooks from the bare, surrounding trees. We see ALMA from the rear, dressed entirely in black, standing in front of two open graves, a coffin on the earth at the far side of each.

Cut to a close shot of her veiled face, pale and wrought with tears.

Hold the shot and superimpose...

THE END

My thanks for expert advice, which, in a cavalier fashion, I plundered or, when it didn't suit, shamefully ignored, go to Frances Finn, Carole Fleming, Raymond Flynn, Tony Kennedy, Phil Nodding and Mike Walker. Among other Nottingham-based writers with whom I swapped tales of trials and tribulations during the making of this novel, I'm especially grateful to William Ivory for his encouragement and common sense, leavened with ardent gossip about the fate of Notts County and the goings-on at Meadow Lane. Thanks also to Susan Sandon and everyone at Random House for once again going that extra yard—or metre—and to Otto Penzler, Stacia Decker and all at Harcourt in the States; to Mary Chamberlain for her speedy yet diligent copy editing, and to my agent, Sarah Lutyens. James Sallis put me on to Mozart's Concerto for Bassoon and Orchestra, thus earning considerable gratitude. Beth Orton's performance at Rock City on February 19 of this year was an inspiration.

John Harvey, London, September 2006