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** MARCH 4TH ** |
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*** MATTHEWS RESIDENCE - 3:20 PM *** |
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| Greg sits, curled up on the sofa in front of the TV, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the screen. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Oh God, what am I going to tell her? |
| Greg chews on his fingernails nervously. Anne slips her key into the door, entering the house briskly, with a tired but warm expression. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Hello? |
| Greg's body stiffens at the sound of his wife's voice. He turns to face her, his head bowed and his voice low. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Darling... I wasn't expecting you until four o'clock. |
| Greg is obviously very stressed. He wipes the perspiration from his brow with his forearm. Anne smiles, dumping her luggage on the ground, flopping down next to her husband, kissing him on the cheek. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Yeah, we arrived early. How've you been? |
| Greg returns the kiss somewhat hesitantly and masks his face with a wan smile. | |
| Greg Matthews: | I've been fine. How was the flight? |
| Anne Matthews: | Long, the usual. And it's not about to get any lighter. I've got another week away day after tomorrow. |
| Anne stands and paces over to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. | |
| Greg Matthews: | You're going away again? What ever happened to the devoted family woman? You've been neglecting us, sweetheart. |
| Greg follows Anne into the kitchen and wraps his hands lovingly around her waist. Anne smiles sympathetically. | |
| Anne Matthews: | I know, I'm sorry. But we said it would be for the best. |
| Greg gently nibbles on his wife's ear, his teeth lightly brushing against her earlobe. | |
| Greg Matthews: | But you're going so soon? Can't you stay here for more than one night at a time, my love? We haven't had you at home for three days running for months. |
| Anne giggles, turning around to face him. | |
| Anne Matthews: | There's nothing I can do about it. We need the money. |
| Anne shakes her head lightly, changing the subject. | |
| Anne Matthews: | So, where's Ian? He's usually on my heels before I get in the front door. |
| Greg replies coolly, his hands gently massaging the sides of Anne's hips. | |
| Greg Matthews: | He's upstairs playing with his newest toy. It's a Maximegalon Triple-Strength Atomic Blaster I think. |
| Anne Matthews: | You've been spoiling him as usual? What about Poll? |
| Greg stammers out a reply, losing his cool slightly. | |
| Greg Matthews: | She's staying at a friend's house tonight. She... err... sends you her love. |
| Anne nods slowly. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Right, so just the three of us? Eat out then? |
| Greg nods, glad that his lie has worked. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Chinese? Indian? |
| Greg Matthews: | Yeah, sounds good. I'd love a Chinese tonight. Or there's a great little Russian place that's just opened... "Bure's Delights" I think it's called. |
| Ian dashes down the stairs, two at a time. He runs into his mother's arms. | |
| Ian Page: | Mummy! Mummy! I singlehandedly obliterated the fourteen thousand strong fortress of Zoganites with my Mega-Blaster! They died like flies! Pow! Pow! Pow! |
| Ian waves his gun around excitedly, pointing it at his mother. She pales slightly. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Congratulations sweety. So you've been having fun then? |
| Anne hugs her son tightly. | |
| Ian Page: | Lots of fun Mummy! And I have some fantastic news! |
| Anne looks down at him expectantly. | |
| Anne Matthews: | What is it? |
| Ian grins, his face resembling that of a Cheshire cat. | |
| Ian Page: | Polly's gone Mummy! That stupid slut has left the house forever! Woo-hoo, now I can play my Satan's Warriors videos all evening without some dumb girl telling me to turn them off! |
| Ian runs around his mother happily, like a small, energetic satellite. Anne frowns slightly, looking up at Greg with a very confused expression. | |
| Anne Matthews: | What's he on about? |
| Ian pulls at his mother's skirt, getting her attention. | |
| Anne Matthews: | What, Ian? |
| Ian Page: | She's gone forever Mummy! That silly cow has gone for good! She ran right out the door into the street. She's probably been gunned down by a mob of Streetwalkers or eaten alive by a Giant Manticore! |
| Greg watches with horror as Ian demolishes his carefully constructed story. Anne looks back up uneasily. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Greg? |
| Greg stutters slightly and shrugs his shoulders. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Well that's one way of looking at it... |
| Ian Page: | I'm so happy Mummy! I hated that bitch, she was so horrible to me. All women are sluts! Err... Except you, Mummy. |
| Ian dances around happily. Anne ignores her son's words, ordering him away. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Ian, upstairs! |
| Ian looks slightly crestfallen and wanders upstairs, his tail between his legs. Greg cringes slightly as his wife turns her accusing stare upon him. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Well? |
| Greg sighs. | |
| Greg Matthews: | I didn't want to worry you, love, which is why I didn't tell you sooner. |
| Anne raises her voice slightly. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Tell me what? |
| Greg takes a deep breath. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Well, while you were away, there was an unfortunate accident. |
| Anne Matthews: | What? |
| Greg Matthews: | Polly's little dog, you know, Bella? Well I was backing out of the garage and she dashed out of the house... I'm sorry to say it but I ran over Bella. She was whimpering... The car had broken her back I think. Anyway, she had to be put down. I explained it all to Polly but she didn't understand... She thought I was killing the dog. |
| Greg trails off, reluctant to go any further. Anne looks momentarily horrified. | |
| Anne Matthews: | So what happened? |
| Greg Matthews: | Well we were at the vet's and Polly saw him stick the needle into the dog. I was talking with the vet about how best to dispose of the body and we decided that an incineration was the best method, as soon as possible. So I told Polly to say goodbye to the dog and she hugged it but it was already dead by that stage. Then we hopped into the car and drove home. She just sat there glaring at me all the way. |
| Greg sighs mournfully, a consummate actor in any situation. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Go on... |
| Anne insists impatiently. | |
| Greg Matthews: | Then when we got home Ian started teasing her about being a woman or something and he went on about how only girls cry... She just snapped! She burst into tears and ran outside. I tried to stop her but before I knew it, she'd run off down the street. She vanished around the corner and I ran after her but when I reached it, I couldn't see her... |
| Anne struggles to take all this onboard. | |
| Anne Matthews: | When, when was this? |
| Greg Matthews: | It was at the beginning of last week. She was so upset by her dog's death and everything that she couldn't handle it any more and she ran away. It was terrible, I've had the police around and everything but all they can do is keep an eye out for her... "Thousands of young girls go missing every year in the UK" they said. I guess we just have to hope that she turns up safe and sound in a few days time. |
| Anne blinks several times, eventually speaking. | |
| Anne Matthews: | You're telling me you let my daughter run off! She's been gone over a week and you didn't even try to let me know until I get in the door! You said she was at a friend's house! |
| Greg Matthews: | I'm sorry darling, I didn't want you to worry. I thought she might come back while you were away and I wouldn't have to trouble you with it all... |
| Greg tries to put his arms around Anne but she won't let him get close. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Don't you touch me, I can't believe you! Just what are the police doing about this anyway? |
| Greg raises his voice, annoyed by Anne's manner. | |
| Greg Matthews: | How the hell should I know? They said they were doing everything they could to find her and that's all I know. |
| Anne Matthews: | So what have you done, eh? Why aren't you out there looking for her! |
| Greg Matthews: | I've driven around the neighbourhood, I've rung up all her friends and everyone at school... What more do you want me to do? |
| Anne Matthews: | I dunno, be out there, looking! Making sure the police are doing their job! |
| Anne pacing across the room, grabbing the phone from its cradle. Greg tries to stop her. | |
| Greg Matthews: | What are you doing? Who are you going to call? |
| Anne Matthews: | The police, I wanna know what they're doing about this! |
| Greg grabs the phone and holds it down. | |
| Greg Matthews: | That's really not a good idea, honey, they've already told me everything they know. Let's not bother them, yeah? |
| Anne pulls the phone back from him. | |
| Anne Matthews: | I don't care. Whatever is it, it's not good enough! |
| Greg sighs and sits back as Anne makes the phone call. Anne dials the number, requesting to be put through to the supervising officer. Tommy answers the phone with a certain amount of trepidation, after the call is redirected by Sun Hill. This takes some time and when he answers the phone, Anne is in a terrible mood. | |
| DS Burnside: | Who's that? |
| Anne Matthews: | It's Anne Matthews, I was told you are the officer dealing with my daughter's disappearance. Polly Page. |
| Tommy grunts uncomfortably. | |
| DS Burnside: | You're the little girl's mother are you? What exactly have you been told? |
| Anne Matthews: | That my daughter's been gone for over a week and you've done nothing about it! |
| Anne's voice rises with each word. Tommy sighs. | |
| DS Burnside: | We're doing everything we can, Mrs Matthews. Your daughter's disappearance is up there on our list of priorities, which is why I am involved with the case. Just be patient, that's the only thing I can advise in cases like this. |
| Anne Matthews: | Be patient! She could be anywhere for all anyone knows, anything could've happened to her in this time, she's just a little girl! |
| Tommy replies calmly. | |
| DS Burnside: | Which is why we are doing everything in our power to find your little girl and get her off the streets, Mrs Matthews. Don't worry, every officer in the Met has been tasked to look out for your daughter. Hopefully we'll find her soon. |
| Tommy fidgets with a small pile of papers on his desk as he speaks. Anne finally manages to take all the information in. | |
| Anne Matthews: | So, what, what should we do? I mean, what can we do to help? |
| DS Burnside: | Nothing really, I'm afraid. Ask her friends and her extended family to let you know if she turns up and that's about it. You can drive around looking for her but that's very unlikely to succeed... If she's out there in the real world she's like a lost kitten... Very difficult to track down. |
| Anne nods slowly to herself, still in shock. | |
| Anne Matthews: | I, I see. Well, please just keep us informed. |
| DS Burnside: | Of course, you'll be the first to know if we find her Mrs Matthews. I can understand how distressing it all must be. Have you spoken much with your husband about it? |
| Anne Matthews: | No, not yet, I only just arrived home and he told me. I wanted to speak with you first. |
| Tommy smiles a grim smile. | |
| DS Burnside: | Make sure you talk it over with him in great detail. I'm sure he'll be only too happy to give you the particulars of the case. |
| Anne glances over at Greg briefly. | |
| Anne Matthews: | I will. Thank-you very much, Sergeant. |
| DS Burnside: | Only too happy to help Mrs Matthews. I'm sure your little girl will turn up given time, just hang in there and hope for the best. |
| Anne Matthews: | Right, we'll be in touch. |
| Anne hangs up the phone and crosses her arms, turning back to Greg, who looks up apprehensively. | |
| Greg Matthews: | What did they say? |
| Anne Matthews: | That'd they let us know, soon as there was any news. |
| Anne paces around the room, in disbelief. | |
| Anne Matthews: | I just don't understand this, how could she just leave! |
| Greg Matthews: | No idea, darling. Kids get the funniest ideas in their heads nowadays. Well shall we go out for that meal? You must be ravenous. Unless you feel like staying in... |
| Greg raises his eyebrow suggestively. Anne looks over at him with a light scoff. | |
| Anne Matthews: | Are you kidding? We can't go out now, what if she comes back? Or rings! |
| Greg sighs. | |
| Greg Matthews: | If you say so. I'll go out and get us a takeaway then. |
| Greg picks up his keys and walks towards the front door. Anne remains behind, biting her fingernails in nervousness. Anne doesn't seem to even hear him, sinking down onto the sofa. | |