Loud rock music over black screen. Sound of baby crying. This
is followed by sound of footsteps pounding up stairs.
INT - Bedroom - Night
Light from a doorway reveals baby's POV. MARY rushes through the doorway, stumbling in the dark, and leans over the cot to look straight at cam, lit only from the doorway, and pushes her hair out of her face. The music is still playing but a bit quieter now.
Oooooooh Davy, Davy. Shhhhh. Shhhh. (whispers soothingly) was the music too loud? Mummy's sorry. Mummy's sorry, Davy! Shhhh. Turned it down now… That's right. Go back to sleep. Good boy. Mummy loves you.
Crying gradually subsides and stops as MARY shushes some more and hums a few gentle bars of the rock track.
INT - Living room - Night.
MARY is sitting at a desk. Scattered upon its surface are photographs: promo shots of a fairly stereotypical rock musician. This is JOE. Fan club letters with the same rock band logo are also on the desk, as is a three-quarters empty bottle of vodka and a smeared glass, which MARY lifts, her hand shaking a little, and drains. She looks at one of the promo shots - a B/W close up shot and slams the empty tumbler onto the desk as the track ends. She sighs as if she's just run a mile.
Blank screen - titles: Baby Love
INT - Living room - Day.
Mary is hunched over a laptop, looking a little dishevelled and typing away, a mug of untouched coffee beside her.
Of all the selfish bastards in this cruel world, you, Joseph Nasren, have to be the most heartless ever to breathe. The fact that you keep on denying the time we had together, the passion we shared, Joe, shows you up to be nothing but a pathetic, bollockless coward. You're a wimp, that's all, and for all your strutting about and your parade of masculinity, deep down you're nothing but a shallow, spineless little boy. I can see that now.
Cut to EXT - Street - Day
Rear view tracking shot of MARY pushing a pushchair past a row of fly posters all advertising a Joe Nasren tour. Cutaway: CU on pushchair wheels rolling along. She turns briefly as a TEEN walks by in a Joe Nasren t-shirt.
The crowds who came to see you on Saturday at the Regal - they're even more foolish than I was when we first met. I stood there, watching them buoyed up by your sad, shitty music - I'm tired of it now, Joe, it bores me. I stood there and watched them bounce around and I knew I was going to throw up. That's why I left early Joe. The sight of you pretending to be young and cool was so pathetic. I left to throw up, Joe. You make me fucking sick.
Cut to EXT - Park - Day
LS of MARY holding her bundle in her arms on a park bench. The pushchair is parked beside the bench. She coos at her pride and joy in a montage of long shots and rear view mid shots. During one of the rear view shots she appears to begin to breastfeed and glares at a staring passer-by, who abruptly turns his head away.
I don't give a shit whether you think about me or not. I hardly ever think of you, you know! Why should I? But I can't believe that you could deny your son. Do you think that makes you a man? All I ever asked is for you to acknowledge Davy. I named him after the song on your first album, after your friend who died in college. Not that you'd appreciate that. Not that you care about your friend or anyone else in this world. You're not a man, Joe. You're not even human to keep avoiding your own child like this.
Cut to - INT - Plush office
MARY is sat at a desk opposite a PROFFESIONAL.
(Calmly but with real feeling)
I know I haven't much money and this sort of case is …I know he's got a lot of people working for him. But, as you're my friend, I thought you'd be able to help. I don't want money from him and I'll pay what I can. I just want little Davy to see his father. Just once.
I'll certainly do all I can to help, Mary. I promise. But, you will need to work at it too.
Cut to INT - Living room - Day
We're back with Mary at her laptop again.
You have to understand, though, Joe. You have to understand that we all have to face up to our responsibilities. Maybe you've been blinded, being in those spotlights too long. Maybe you just need to take a break for a while, to see what's really important. I'm sorry it has to be this way, Joe but I'm having to take legal action. I might not afford the hotshot lawyers that you have polishing your leather trousers day after day but that doesn't matter. This isn't about the music business, Joe or copyright law. It's about what's right. It's about OUR son, Joe. It's about his right to see his father just once, for Christ's sake!
INT - Car - Day
Baby's POV from back set of the car, cross cut with CU on rear view mirror and MARY's lips as she speaks.
This is where Daddy works, Davy. This is where he makes his music. Some of it. The bits he records. This is where Daddy records the songs we hear at home, Sweetheart. You'll see Daddy soon…
She parks the car down a suburban road. A sign above a door a little way off but in view of the windscreen reveals it to be a recording studio. MARY turns to the back seat, pushing her head between the front seats to address our POV.
Daddy's going to love Davy, isn't he? Daddy will see how silly he's been when he sees my little Davy! Yes, he will!
JOE and a man in a suit leave the recording studio, both wearing dark glasses. They are chatting together, the SUIT sounding in-the-know, JOE nodding and looking sincerely at him as they walk and talk.
Joe will see how silly he's been not to want to say hello to poor little Davy…
She hears the men approach and immediately turns her head back, reaching for the door handle at once.
(with a terrified look of recognition)
Fuck! It's HER!
(leaping out of the car and rushing towards him)
Joe! JOE! PLEASE stay calm. Joe! Don't be angry with me, PLEASE, Joe! I've got something to show you…!
CUT to LS as a BODYGUARD comes out of the studio. There is a scuffle (shot verit� style)
Miss - you are in breach of a court order. MISS STEP BACK PLEASE!
(holding MARY back by her arms as she is struggling to grab JOE's face)
Step back! Get BACK!
MARY furiously claws the bodyguard's face and he falls back,
hand over his bleeding eye.
You IDIOT! You stupid fucking IDIOT! You'll scare the baby!
MARY regains her composure and addresses JOE as the SUIT reaches into his pocket for a mobile phone and the BODYGUARD staggers around holding his wounded face.
Joe! Baby! There's someone I'd like you to meet…
MARY points with pride at the car window. Inside is an empty, unused children's car seat, the price tag still hanging off it. She turns her head from the freaked-out JOE to look at the car seat lovingly. Her eyes are staring at the car seat with a glazed-over, almost greedy pride. Her mouth is spread in a very wide grin.
Police. Yes I'd say it's a fucking emergency!
Joe, Baby: this is our son, Davy. Baby. Davy, Baby. Joe!
Cut to INT - Plush office - Day
The PROFFESIONAL is looking through some files on his desk, turning pages over to reveal a mug shot of MARY then the promo pic of JOE. He sighs and drops the file to the desk. A name plate reads:
Dr M. Springer
Cut to black