i.

INT. WELLNESS CENTRE, CROYDON - DAY

It’s 1996, before bottled water is widespread. This is the temporary office of Dr Elmes, acquaintance of Ida and Karl Amick. In one seat, with a clipboard, sits the male Dr Elmes. Across from him, with a plastic cup in her hand, sits a 13 year old Claude Amick.

DR ELMES

(his eyes on his notes)

What is it about school that makes you angry, Claudia?

CLAUDE’s line of sight changes slowly from her cup, to his face.

DR ELMES

Is it the other children? Is it the teachers? Is it that you don’t feel you fit in?

Claude, again, does not respond. All that can be heard is the ticking of the clock he’d taught her the week previous, to tune into when her mind was drifting, and the cars outside.

DR ELMES

(disdainfully)

Look, Claudia.  I cannot help you if you do not speak to me. I promised your parents I would free up my schedule to see you.

CLAUDE

Your water tastes like crap.

Like, proper crap.

DR ELMES

That’s nice, but that’s not why you’re here.

CLAUDE

Do you think if we ran out of water we’d die?

(blinking pause)

Or could they use rain water?

DR ELMES

Claudia.

CLAUDE

You know I heard there’s supposed to be an asteroid coming in the next couple of years that’s going to wipe us all out.

DR ELMES

(making more notes)

Does that worry you?

CLAUDE

Yeah. Does a bit.

Claude scratches her chin. The clock ticks in the brief silence.

CLAUDE

And it’s weird cos I don’t feel like I even belong here anyway.

DR ELMES

“Here” as in this office? “Here” as in--

CLAUDE

I dunno.

Just here.

FADE OUT.

ii.

EXT. SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTH OF FRANCE - EVENING

The garden of the chateau is filled with people. Dusk is setting. The golden string lights on the trees keep it light enough not to get away without being seen. An older man stands, bored, with a younger woman.

OLDER MAN

Where did she get to?

CUT TO:

EXT. A DARKENED DEN OF TREES - EVENING

A tearing sound is muffled by moans. A 16 year old Claude, with shaggy cropped hair, rips the button from a silk blouse; her hand between a woman’s legs. The woman she’s with is a busty 37 year old named Margie.

Both women are coated in sweat.

MARGIE

(in Italian, subtitled)

How did that answer my question, mm?

CLAUDE

Didn’t it?

Margie shakes her head.

CLAUDE

(lips pouting, shrugging)

I don’t really like these parties.

Never did.

MARGIE

No? What for?

CLAUDE

I’ve been coming to them since I was little.

MARGIE

You didn’t have to.

CLAUDE

No, I know.

(rolling off her to sit)

But between that and being left in the house on my own?

(teetering her hand)

Dunno.

MARGIE

(rubbing her back, comfortingly)

I could have visited... 

CLAUDE

(chuckles)

Then we’d never have had this.

MARGIE

Nulla è per caso.

CLAUDE

(turning head to look at her)

What’s that mean?

MARGIE

Nothing by chance, my darling.

FADE OUT.

iii.

INT. CAREERS OFFICE, CROYDON SIXTH FORM - DAY

Claude and an older, straight talking woman, enter a stand off. Claude is standing by the window, her arms folded. She’s 17 and won’t go to university.

DR NORRIS

(adjusting spectacles)

You’re being very belligerent, Claudia. University is the best way forward.

CLAUDE

For who?

(scoffs)

You?

DR NORRIS

For your peers, for you future. The world is changing, Claudia. To have qualifications will allow you to have a career. Don’t you want that?

CLAUDE

Not really, I don’t. No.

DR NORRIS

I can’t make you do this. I can just strongly, strongly suggest you should.

CLAUDE

Can I go now?

DR NORRIS

(sighing again)

Do as you please.

You will regardless.

CUT TO:

iiib.

EXT. CROYDON HIGH SIXTH FORM - DAY

Claude and a brunette sit on a high wall. Their legs are dangling. Lighting a freshly rolled joint, Claude offers it to her companion, who turns it down.

ISOLDA

She isn’t wrong.

You could go for music.

CLAUDE

How can you learn music, though?

I know music.

ISOLDA

So do I, but I’m going to go.

CLAUDE

Yeah, to Belgium.

ISOLDA frowns, looking down at her feet.

CLAUDE

Pete going?

ISOLDA

He was going before I was.

CLAUDE

(jumping from the wall)

Course.

ISOLDA

Don’t be like that.

CLAUDE

I’m not being like anything.

ISOLDA

You can’t be my only priority.

CLAUDE

And you think that’s what I want? To be your one and only friend?

(spits on the ground, head shaking)

No, fuck that.

I just want you to give a shit now and then, you know.

ISOLDA

I do give a shit...

CLAUDE

(amused)

It’s taking so much in me right now not to lose it.

ISOLDA

Why are you always so angry?

CLAUDE

Because, Issy.

(glaring)

I’m fucking sad.

FADE OUT.

iv.

INT. FARRINGDON PRACTICE, LONDON - DAY

This room is different to the others Claude has been in. She notices the lack of a clock, the lack of traffic, and the lack of a therapist that knows - and shares her words with - her parents.

This room is teal.

DR HOFFMAN

Do you blame your parents?

CLAUDE

I can’t, really.

DR HOFFMAN

How come?

CLAUDE

Well, to blame them, they’d had to have been around enough to screw me up.

(watching the doc make notes)

Don’t think I’ve ever not been like this.

DR HOFFMAN

Like...?

There’s a prolonged silence. This is their third session, and Dr Hoffman has become used to the moments when nothing comes. The numb moments, Claude referred to them as.

For her paycheque, Dr Hoffman would listen to anything.

DR HOFFMAN

If you don’t want to tell me...

CLAUDE

I nearly choked on a grape when I was five.

(kicks her legs up on the desk)

That’s it.

That’s the reason.

DR HOFFMAN

Do you lie a lot, Claudia?

CLAUDE

(cockily)

Not really.

DR HOFFMAN

That’s clever.

CLAUDE

I have a surprisingly high IQ.

DR HOFFMAN

Is that what you tell the girls?

CLAUDE

(sharp intake of breath)

To tell them that, I’d have to talk to them.

DR HOFFMAN

According to your registration form, I’m the seventh therapist you’ve had.

(flips the paper over)

You’re beyond my help.

CUT TO:

ivb.

EXT. FARRINGDON PRACTICE - DAY

Exiting the building, Claude pulls her coat tie to wrap up, leaping down the stairs while grabbing a handful of orange leaves.

Maybe not everything.

FADE OUT.

v.

INT. HAMMERSMITH HOSPITAL - DAY

DOCTOR

Did you mean to harm yourself?

CLAUDE

No. I wish, but no.

FADE OUT.

vi.

INT. NORTH EAST LONDON TREATMENT CENTRE - DAY

Disheveled, coming down from a coke binge, with a blue crop and a shiner over her left eye, Claude puts out a cigarette.

Claude doesn’t smoke.

Dr Dallerup looks like John Malkovich, if John Malkovich was a woman with red hair.

DR DALLERUP

Do you want to tell me where you got that?

CLAUDE

(sniffs, shaking her head)

It’s fine.

DR DALLERUP

Your friend said you got into a fight on Saturday night.

(places her hand on top of hers)

Do you want to tell me?

CLAUDE

I deserved it.

(sniffing, pausing)

Really, it’s fine.

DR DALLERUP

She said somebody used homophobic language against you.

CLAUDE

(shrugs, patting down her pockets)

I don’t care, I deserved it.

DR DALLERUP

She also said you slept with his girlfriend...

CLAUDE

I fucked her in a bathroom.

Hardly “slept”...

But, yeah.

DR DALLERUP

You don’t deserve every bad thing that happens, you know, Claude. You can give yourself a break.

Claude looks up from wherever it is she’s looking; she doesn’t know and her pupils are gigantic.

DR DALLERUP

If you’re blaming yourself for everything, it’s not surprising that you’re trying to numb it.

CLAUDE

(shaking her head)

I’m not trying to numb it.

I’m trying to feel.

DR DALLERUP

And cocaine makes you feel what?

CLAUDE

Like I’ve got a heart in there. Like it’s not fucking broken, if it’s even broken. Can your heart be broken if you don’t have a fucking heart?

DR DALLERUP

(nodding)

You have a heart.

CLAUDE

Had.

DR DALLERUP

(shaking head)

No. Have.

CLAUDE

(sniffs)

Yeah, well.

(shuffles around)

I like to feel it, yeah?

DR DALLERUP

It’s not worth it.

CLAUDE

I honestly don’t give a shit about anything anymore.

DR DALLERUP

Not your band?

CLAUDE

(pouting, shaking head)

I’m no Nick Drake.

DR DALLERUP

No, you’re not, you’re you.

FADE OUT.

EPILOGUE

INT. GIANT MEN MANAGEMENT, LONDON - DAY

Claude sits at her manager, Hiroki’s desk. On top of it, to be precise. He scrolls through his far too big phone; she plays with pencils that have never been used.

HIROKI

How is some time in early 2017 for a production date?

CLAUDE

(shrugging)

I signed on to score that play. Might have to wait a bit longer? Bit blocked.

HIROKI

Yes that is fine.

(puts his phone down)

You’re looking good.

(he means clean)

CLAUDE

Cheers, the break’s treating me alright this time.

HIROKI

(chuckles, teasing)

Is that why you don’t have any songs?

CLAUDE

(smirking)

You’re a knob.

HIROKI

Don’t take too long. The music business is a forgetful mistress, and you are too talented to be forgotten.

CLAUDE

Yeah.

(nods)

Yeah, I know.

There’s no such thing as fixed. Claude knows that, her doctors and friends know that; her manager and extended family, they know that.

She's never been beyond help.

FADE OUT.