Ghost Writer, The (2022)

[bunniefuu]

- Gilliger Graham.

- I cant tell you

how I got here,

can any of us, really.

Life is a journey,

that's what they say.

But if I knew

where this was leading me,

I never would have taken it.

- Who did you say

the author was?

- Gilliger. Gilliger Graham.

- Gilliger...

Here he is.

Ah, I'm afraid

that one's out of stock, sir.

- Right,

well can I order it, please.

- I'm afraid its been

discontinued.

Would you like pay

for that book?

- No, I made a mistake.

Come on Frank, you're my agent.

You're contractually

obliged to lie to me.

- The market doesn't like

whodunits, not any more.

- Did you talk to

my dad that way?

- You're father was

a different animal.

- Yeah.

Well, I'm not my father.

My fans like my work

because its me.

- You need a hit, Gill.

- You know I had a phone call

from an estate agent

at my dads cottage.

There's um,

there's been a break in

and they want me to go up there

and check if anything's

missing.

- Oh, you still got that place,

must be twenty years, right?

I'll never understand it.

I will never know

what he was writing when...

He always said his muse

was waiting for him there.

- His muse,

is that what you would call it?

- I'm sorry I didn't mean--

- Nah, it doesn't matter,

that place

never did anything for me.

Some other idiot

can take it over.

- Hello, Dad.

No. No no no no no.

Ouch.

- Gilliger,

never point a g*n

unless you know how to use it!

- Hocus Pocus.

Mmm um um um um um um um.

Mmm, TS, very nice.

Ooh, I've tried the A.

You've got an A, mmm.

Mmm.

- Sorry, Dad I...

- Do you know how

long this took me?

But you've got to be tough,

with yourself

and others around you,

if you want to achieve anything,

because there's always someone

ready to take your place.

What you got there?

- Can you read it with me?

- Hmm.

No heroes in real life,

Gilliger.

- "I don't care

what we have to do Gill,

but we have finish this novel

even if it kills us."

Well.. ah, no actually,

actually actually no.

We actually have to

start the novel.

Ah, f*ck! f*ck!

Let me in.

It's me.

Let me in.

It's me!

- Are you sure you

have the right house?

- This is the Graham residence.

- You gonna let me in?

- You know its been half an

hour, I think they'll probably

be long gone by now,

whoever it was.

- You don't know that.

- Er, yeah, okay.

I've actually got some really

important work to attend to.

- At this hour?

- Okay.

I'm not very good

at small talk.

I'll be gone soon,

so you can run around the woods

naked if you want.

You can do whatever you please.

- It's four o'clock

in the morning.

- Right.

Look, I'm sure

you'll find your way home,

you found your way here

and it's getting light soon.

So there wont be anyone

hiding behind any trees

which is useful.

Here.

Good. See, it's less wet now.

- It's soaking.

- Hold that.

Now, faster you walk,

faster it will dry.

Uh, no no no tut tut tut.

Naughty boy, naughty boy.

Okay.

No.

- Mmm, I'm sorry honey,

I must have over slept.

Shall I do us a nice breakfast

to make up for it?

Hey, what's the matter baby,

you got writers block?

Well, I can help with that.

- Right, what do you want?

Is it money?

You find someone famous

you-you go in there bed

and you sell your story?

You're boyfriend's outside

with a camera I suppose.

- I'll make you eggs, you

always feel better after eggs.

You bought it for me,

remember, in Vienna?

- I've never been to Vienna.

- Mm-mm.

- You're not getting a penny.

Where is it?

C'mon, give it to me.

- Now you're talking.

- I'm only going

to ask one more time.

- Then what?

Maybe it flew away.

- Right,

d-don't f*cking touch anything.

- Ah right, you're the

boyfriend, aren't you?

- Excuse me?

- What was it, a long lens

was it, get what you want?

- Yeah, actually I was,

I was looking for my dog.

Your dog?

You know they say

a great writer lived here once.

- Yeah,

well maybe he still does.

- What, you mean you?

You're Irwin Graham?

- Well no, I'm um--

- I love all of your work.

You know, they say living alone

out here on your own,

in the middle of nowhere

can drive you crazy but,

I've always wanted to

get away from the city.

That's what really

drives you mad.

The chaos and the greed.

And everyone's just so

friendly out here, aren't they.

- You should be a writer.

I should get going.

- What's it, something new,

something original?

- This dog of yours,

is it a he or a she?

- Oh, she's a bitch.

Hey, be careful though,

she bites.

Right, listen.

I don't know who you think I am,

but you're boyfriend,

husband, whatever he is,

he's looking for you.

So you should get your things

and-and you should go.

Alright?

- But I've told him, okay?

What more do you want?

- You've told him what?

Actually, no,

can you not touch that.

Can you not touch that,

thank you.

- I never liked this place much,

it's bad juju.

We should get away from here,

go somewhere

he can never find us.

- Alright, okay,

I actually don't know

what you're talking about.

- Where'd you get this?

Does it work?

- No, I err, that's not loaded.

- Are you sure?

- Whoa, hey, hey,

don't point a g*n at someone

if you don't know how to use it.

- Who says I don't?

- Oh my god.

Okay listen,

I don't know who you are,

I don't know what you want.

I wa-- want you to get

your belongings and go.

Jus-just go.

- You know I can't

live without you.

Where would I go?

- Anywhere but here.

- What are you

going to do, honey?

Are you going to sh**t me?

- Leave.

- Oh okay, so that's how

you want to play it.

It's not everyday that

something drops into your lap,

that can change

your life forever.

If you don't grab it

someone else will.

How far were you

going to let me get?

Are you working on a new scene?

What's she like?

The girl, there's always a girl.

Wh-what do you call her again,

you're um...

Your muse. That's it.

What's she like?

What do you want me to do now?

- I really do want you to go.

- Oh, sure sure okay,

so ah, I'll put up a fight.

I'm not leaving g*dd*mn it!

- No, this this is not a game.

- I know you love me.

An-and I'm not going to go.

So you'd better

just sh**t me now.

C'mon, do it, pull the trigger.

- Jus-just go.

- You're going to

have to k*ll me.

- This isn't make believe.

I want you out of here.

- Good line.

Do it! Do--

Let me in!

I know you're in there!

Let me in!

- Gill.

- I think she's dead.

Er, I sh*t her

and I and I k*lled her.

- Slow down who's dead?

- Jane. Th-the girl, a girl.

- What are you talking about?

- A girl sh-she came to Dad's

house

and it was an accident,

and I, and I, I, I don't know.

She done some f*cking thing

with a g*n and I sh*t her.

I sh*t her.

- I see,

you're at the cottage.

Summoning up the muse.

- What? No, sh--

Are you listening to what

I'm saying, she's f*cking dead!

- Yeah, sure.

That's wonderful,

you're writing again.

This sounds good.

Um, anybody see you

bump her off?

- No, I mean uh,

her boyfriend looking for but I,

I don't know.

- Boyfriend. That's intriguing.

Yeah, this sounds good, Gill.

- Yo-you can't just cover up

something like this, Frank.

- No, I guess not.

- I've got to get out of here.

- No. No, you're, you're

onto something here, Gill.

Stick with it.

You're father

would be very proud.

- She should be--

She was here.

She was here on the floor.

- Crazy f*cking writers.

- Jane?

- I'd like the police, please.

- Stick with it.

Your father would

be very proud.

- sh*t.

- f*ck you Dad,

you owe me.

- God, this is awful.

- Her eyes were warm,

wild, alive,

she was also married.

Oh!

Hello?

Hello?

- Do it!

- Dad...

- So what have you

done with her?

- Wh-- I don't,

I don't know what you mean,

what--

- Whoops.

- I-- I'll pay you.

I can get to the bank.

I can call them immediately.

Is that what you want?

- I don't think we care

about the money anymore.

Just tell the truth.

- I don't know where she is.

Okay, she was upset

an-and she ran off

and I thought she was with you.

- Can you believe that

Van Gogh cut off his ear?

Imagine the pain, yeah.

The passion required to do

a thing like that.

C'mon then, what's it about?

- I don't know yet.

- Yeah, course you do.

- No don-don't do that.

- Someone gets hurt, right?

Yeah.

It's always someone gets hurt.

Is it a pretty woman, maybe?

She's strangled or...

She's stabbed

or maybe she's even sh*t.

I don't know

what you're talking about.

- Would you

want to keep living if um...

if you knew there was

nothing left in your t*nk?

That's what I think

happened to Van Gogh.

I don't think he was crazy.

I think he was empty.

Now, I don't know about you.

I lie a lot.

I think I'm better than I am.

- Not me.

- Mm-hmm.

I only wish I could believe that

and then that might

be worth reading.

But you know you can't

trust anyone to tell the truth

these days, can you.

So...

Here are your options.

Burn your book,

or you can cut off

one of your fingers.

Cos, cutting that ear off

sealed his reputation as

a tormented genius.

That could be you.

You'd be famous again.

Isn't that what you want?

- You can burn it.

Just burn, it-it's yours.

- You are such a bad liar.

- Didn't I tell you

it was quaint.

- Is It really him?

- Want an autograph?

- Would it be too much to

ask for a photo?

- I can fix anything.

Brian Mitchell,

Mitchell Properties.

Mr Graham I presume,

it is so good to

finally meet you.

I have Mr and Mrs Lewis here

they'd like to take look inside.

- You mean,

what do you mean inside?

- The property.

- What, did we have some kind

of appointment or something?

- I left a couple of messages.

You asked me to get it up

and running again.

The water the heating.

- Oh, right yeah.

Well yeah, I didn't mean...

- Mr Graham, I know we've

struggled in the past

for one reason or another

- For one reason or another?

- We can leave it

as long as you like,

but my professional advice...

- It's not it's no-good timing.

It's a bit messy in there,

I've been working late

the last couple of nights,

so don't disturb anything.

Alright?

- Do you need someone to

take a look at that?

- No.

Yeah, it's a scratch.

It's the byproduct of

a mans hard labor.

- I was a good friend

of your father's,

so If you ever need anything,

don't hesitate.

- f*ck!

- Do it.

The music in his head

had been replaced

by the chime of betrayal.

But even now he was convinced

she still loved him.

His ego was willing to

overlook almost everything.

But the thought of blackmail

cut him like a Kn*fe

and he was torn.

]

- You hurt her, you know.

Not too much.

She's still a good shag.

- Hi, honey.

- How rude of me,

you want to know who

you're dealing with, right.

Yeah, this.

This is your best work

by a country mile.

It's the stark realism.

It had its heart

and soul in this one.

I'm sorry mate,

did you want to...

If you're not fast,

your last on, mate.

- That's enough.

You're making him giddy.

And I'm beginning to remember

why I detest you so much.

- Get out of my house.

What, your house?

I thought we were all

in this together, mate.

- You're not real.

None of this real.

- Or is it.

There's a reason

why its called the demon drink.

I must confess that that one's

got an extra kick to it.

- Y-know we should try and meet

under more

hospitable circumstance,

cos I feel were always

getting off on the wrong foot.

- Please,

just tell me what you want.

- Here's what

I don't quite understand.

Why would you retype

your own novel?

- Well, because you smashed

my computer remember?

- Yes, so why was it on

computer in the first place?

- Because tha-that's how

my father used to write.

- Ah, now that is interesting,

because this book

and I've read it now.

It definitely has

a spirit of someone else.

It's a real departure for you,

is kind of a step up,

which that's ironic.

Given your current predicament.

What do you think, Jane?

- I think he's a f*cking liar.

- Hell hath no fury like

a woman scorned.

She told you it was over,

but you wouldn't take no for

an answer, would you.

- I don't even know

who this woman is.

- What a charmer

we have here, Jane.

Right, what are you

so afraid of?

Go on, mate.

Everyone's scared of something,

losing their job,

their girlfriend, their pride.

What gives you the willies,

Jane?

- Imposters. Liars. Cheats.

- Yes, see.

We've all got our demons

lurking somewhere inside,

but why do people find it

so hard to tell the truth?

I wouldn't make any

sudden movements,

that's bad for business.

I wouldn't worry

about that either, mate.

I'm pretty sure that beam's

held far more substantial men

than you in its time.

- Are you going to k*ll me?

- Do we look like K*llers?

Hmm?

Yeah, but what about you?

Do you think you

look like a k*ller?

Hey, feel free to

k*ll yourself though,

if you want, if you can.

- Oh, the p*ssy's

a k*ller alright.

- Shouldn't touch

what isn't yours.

- Don't leave me here!

Please!

- Brian Mitchell,

Mitchell properties.

- It's Gilliger Graham.

I'm-I'm leaving town today.

I just wanted to

drop off the key.

- Can you tell me

what they look like?

- Well, she has brown hair

and she's attractive,

and she's crazy, and he is um...

Well he's taller and got

dark hair, and he's creepy.

- Do they want money?

- Who?

- Them.

- Uh, I don't know. Yeah, maybe.

- How long?

- How long what?

- How long have you

been seeing her?

- Who are you talking about?

- Uh-ha.

Look, I understand you want to

keep this out of the papers,

but you cant let some

teasing piece of trash,

or anything for that matter

stop you from your writing.

No, I'll make sure

there's no more distractions.

You wont have to leave.

I'll put a stop to this.

I'm just toying with you,

Mr Graham I...

- Ah, just toying with me.

- Yeah, well... look.

When I said I was a fan,

I meant it.

And I'm really looking

forward to reading this one.

So...

Oh, well he was broke

wasn't he the divorce

had cleaned him out,

so he had to sell

the cottage first,

but he said he had

to finish that book.

"To tell the truth",

actually is what

he kept saying,

"to tell the truth."

- It was too late to

think of the family now.

Dawn was breaking

and with it the

possibility of a scandal

and no way to

turn the clock back .

A friend had

offered to fix things.

but at what cost.

- There's no point, old chum.

There's no-one around for miles,

except for fresh air

and squirrels.

I'd conserve your breath,

if I were you.

- You've got the wrong, man.

Whatever he's done it err,

it had nothing to do with me.

- Jane, does he look like

the wrong man to you?

- Hey! I don't know.

- Selfish life being a writer.

Yeah, it takes discipline though

to shut everything else out.

So, you must be very proud.

- Hey you're talking

about my dad, you're...

talking about my dad!

- You cant blame your dad

for your own selfish deeds.

your weaknesses are your own.

- Yeah, take responsibility,

learn to pull the trigger.

- Home sweet home.

Recognize the place?

- Yeah, I used to

come here with my dad fishing.

- Yeah, memories like

the corners of my mind.

Principal character witnesses

the brutal m*rder of a woman.

But he doesn't call

the police. Why?

- Okay, I don't know.

You tell me. Did he do it?

- You're the writer.

- No, wait wait wait wait wait.

Umm...

Let me think. Let me think.

He, uh, he-he knows her.

- How?

- Ah, because

it's his girlfriend.

- Lover. Ha!

- Jane, move.

I'd k*ll her off

if I were the writer,

but I digress.

Here, 'I'm going to ask you

one more question.

This is a difficult one,

so think long

and hard before you answer.

Cos, someone's life

might depend on it.

- Hey! Hey Patrick,

move it along.

There's a good boy.

- Do you think

that sometimes

it makes more sense

to take a life than to save one?

Do you think that that would be

honest or true?

What do you think?

- Your story's

got blood on it,

and I don't think you're

mixing with the right people.

Take Brian for instance,

does he seem like

a trustworthy character to you?

Now are you going to

burn your book,

or are you going to

write it properly?

You got the balls to do it?

- Yeah.

Er...

Ah. f*ck!

- He was scared.

All the achievements were

slipping through his fingers

like grains of sand.

His life was hanging on

a precipice

and there was blood

on his hands.

He looked up at the

wooden beam above his his head

and wondered.

"Dearest Gilliger.

if you've read this far,

"perhaps its already too late.

"You now know more than

I ever wanted you to.

"Please forgive me.

"If there is one thing I can do

"I beg you to

use this as evidence.

"Do not attempt to finish it

under any circumstances.

"There is something evil

in this book.

"Burn it.

Your ever loving

father, Irwin."

- f*ck you, f*ck you, Dad.

f*ck you.

- Oh.

You decided to stick

around after all then.

No more visitors

from the woods then?

- No.

- No no no.

You scared them away.

You did speak to them,

didn't you?

- So the novel

must be almost done now.

- Mmm.

See, I'm staring

at those f*cking trophies,

and um, thinking

about becoming dentist.

I mean, who am I kidding, uh.

He was the only

writer in this family.

- Well, self doubts

part of a writer's DNA, innit?

- Well, there is a difference

between doubt and delusion.

Shh.

I didn't even start it.

He, he did all the work.

I mean, um yea, almost.

How even from the grave

he delivers the stupendous

chorus of disapproval.

- Consider it a gift.

- A gift that's a f*cking curse.

No. No.

It's not finished there's um...

still things to write but, er...

- Writers block?

- Yeah.

Yes, something like that.

- Look, I found

this at the office.

Came across it when we were

cleaning the place out,

but err, I thought

you should have it.

Who knows, it might even

prove inspirational.

Mr Graham, don't let

anything get in the way

of your writing, Mr Graham.

There's nothing more important.

- They continued

to plague him

seemingly hell bent on revenge.

He was the wrong man,

but they refused to accept it.

He decided to

finish the book anyway,

treat it like a gift,

seek the truth

and give it to the world.

Only time was running out.

- This house is full of trophies

if you know where to look.

How's that final

chapter coming along?

- You did this to

my father, didn't you?

- What are you talking about?

- You drove him mad.

- You look pretty mad to me,

but are you man enough to

pull the trigger?

- You only exist in my mind.

I could write you

out any time.

- Were all just characters to

you people aren't we,

even when we bleed.

But you'd have to burn the book

to see if that's true

and somehow I don't think

that's going to happen.

No, I think I'm going to

be around for a while yet.

You gonna use this?

Weave it into

your little plot?

Must be tough for you,

being an also ran.

Whoops.

Sorry, wrong relation.

You never showed

that k*ller instinct.

Thought you might be different.

- I'll finish this

and then I'm gone.

- It's funny, that's just

what your father said.

- The awful trade...

a wife and a son...

he had paid the price

and would take it to his grave.

He stared at her and wondered

how something so beautiful

could be so toxic.

What are you wearing

that for any way?

- You bought it for me

in Vienna, remember?

- How could I forget.

- I'll make you eggs.

You always feel better

after eggs.

- Put that down.

I said, put it down.

- You should invite him over,

I'd like to meet him.

He should know about us.

- I'm going to

put you out of your misery.

I'm not playing anymore.

You're not getting any money.

You, me, this, it's over.

- I thought we

talked this through,

I don't care about the money.

You know that.

- You expect me

to believe that.

- It wasn't supposed to

happen this way, but it did.

- It's impressive.

You should take

that act on the road.

- I love you, you idiot.

Lets you and me get outta here.

- We're not going

anywhere together

and I'm warning you.

If any of this gets out.

- I'm scared,

he's acting strange,

I'm sure he knows.

- I'm going to take a shower

and when I'm done,

I don't expect to see you here.

Nor ever again.

- Are we role playing again?!

I love it when we do that!

- God no.

Ah, Mrs Walker, I have to dash.

I have another appointment.

Yeah. Yeah, I shall

let you know their response

as soon as I know.

Yeah.

- There's some of them missing.

Where are they?

- Hey relax, sit down.

What's missing?

- Photos, Brian.

Photos, they're missing.

- Well, I'm sure

we can sort this out.

They are only photographs,

after all.

Tea?

- Right, here,

here, you see.

Here.

- Oh, there he is.

The man himself.

Bet we both could learn

a thing or two from him, eh.

- You trying to protect me?

- From what?

You think I took em,

Mr Graham?

- I want to know the truth.

- I haven't touched anything,

er.

Thought you'd like to some

pictures of you with the family.

I thought they might

inspire you in some way,

that's all.

I'm sorry if they've upset you.

I had no idea.

- You didn't hurt her, did you?

- Excuse me?

- Do it.

- Dad. Dad.

- You've got to pick him up!

Look, will you just

do what I say?!

No, I don't want him here!

- Emergency services,

which service do you require?

Fire, Police or Ambulance,

which service do you require?

- Sorry, wrong number.

- He had finally

discovered who he really was

and prayed he could

just slip beneath the waves.

Somewhere even

a doting son would not follow

and discover the awful truth.

Weeks passed and he knew it

was only a matter of time

before something would be

discovered, reported,

acted upon but nothing

happened,

then one day,

the visitations began.

- Please let me in!

It's me!

Please open the door!

- What he should never

have done was let her in.

You can go now.

- Ah, it's me.

Well, can I

at least speak to him?

Well, is he coming

over this weekend?

Well, tell him well go fishing,

he loves fishing.

Please just--

Why do you have to

be such a...

I'm his father, g*dd*mn it!

- I can't do it.

- Sure you can.

- You're dead.

- Well, you didn't think you'd

get of me that easily, did you?

Such a beautifully

written book after all.

- Huh.

I can't go on like this.

- You don't have to, silly.

You've done all

that you can, Irwin.

Time to let someone

else take over now.

I mean, you don't actually think

anyone's going to miss you,

do you?

- Never let anything get in

the way of the work, he said.

- Well, you should know better

than to listen to anyone else,

Irwin.

You are your own man after all,

aren't you?

Do you want a hand, love?

- Do it.

f*ck you.

f*ck you, Dad. f*ck you.

I cant do this.

I cant do this.

- Sure you can.

Do it.

- You ready?

- Yeah listen,

I've got a flat tire.

Do you mind if

I ride with you?

- All part of the service.

I found a couple of

cottages you might like.

Nice and quiet.

What's in the bag?

- Well, I thought

we might go fishing.

- Alright.

I thought you couldn't

wait to leave?

- You seem to know

these roads very well.

- Seems like

I've been here forever.

- It's amazing though how um,

how young you look.

How old were you back then?

Do you mind if we

do that fishing now.

- Ah, I'm not sure we have--

- Next right.

I know the perfect spot.

It's good of you

to agree to this.

- Nothing wrong

with reminiscing.

I know what it was like to

go fishing with your father.

Did it myself once or twice.

- I was thinking... my father

was trying to tell me something

writing that novel.

- Whoa. He told me once,

it was almost like

it wrote itself.

I mean, I guess that's what

all great writers say but, er.

With him it was like he had

almost no control at all.

- I've only got

one fishing rod, I'm afraid.

- What are you doing?

- Why don't you

go down there by the lake.

I'm guessing

that my father was...

Yeah, was somewhere

there by the tree.

And whatever he was aiming at,

was pretty much

where you are now.

What do you reckon.

- Mr Graham,

this is not funny.

I'm going to go back to the car.

- You k*lled her, didn't you?

- Can you not see?

All of this is in you head.

Your father had

the same problem.

They're just characters

that you've both lived with

for far too long.

And you should burn that

damn book after all.

Yeah, I'll burn it.

I'll burn it in my own time.

- Because lets face it,

your father was a far better

writer than you'll ever be.

- Something bad

in the woods, you said.

So my father was

telling your story,

was covering up your crime.

Jane was right.

He didn't k*ll himself,

you k*lled him

- He was desperate.

I tried to warn him that she was

trouble but he wouldn't listen.

They were blackmailing him

and I tried to protect him.

I didn't want this

damn thing to ruin his career.

I was a fan, a real fan.

- No, you k*lled her.

You k*lled Jane and my father

saw the whole thing.

He stood there and he watched it

and he went home,

and he hanged himself.

- No, she threatened to

go back to Patrick and--

He flipped out

he couldn't take it.

He chased her through the woods.

- No, no you're lying.

- When I got there he was in

a terrible state.

He said he'd lost all control,

and when I arrived,

he was typing the novel.

Can you believe that?

It was like a curse.

- Stop.

- Th-- there is no Patrick,

not anymore, their dead.

They only continue to

exist in you mind.

It's why you

won't be rid of them

until you destroy this thing.

- Shut up.

- You have to burn it.

- You better shut up now.

- Irwin,

our parents never live up

to who we want them to be.

But there's no reason

not to forgive them.

- My name's not Irwin.

- Police.

I'd like to report a m*rder.

- You don't have the balls.

Go on, do it.

- Dad!

- Mr Graham.

So let me get this right.

You say you k*lled

Brian Mitchell

because he k*lled

Jane and Patrick Lewis.

- Ah, that's correct.

- Well, I'm afraid there's

no record whatsoever

of Jane and Patrick Lewi

living in this county, ever.

- No no, you've

obviously made a mistake.

That's impossible.

- We did manage to

trace Mr Mitchell.

Popular man in the village,

by all accounts.

Very successful estate agent.

But he d*ed

over twenty ago now.

- No, hold on look,

you're obviously mistaken, okay.

I sh*t him.

He k*lled Jane

and k*lled her husband.

Right, it's it's

it's in the book.

- The book, of course.

Must take quite

some imagination.

I understand your father

was a great author.

You must be very proud.

Please, no more crank calls.

You take care.

- No.

- No heroes in real life,

Gilliger.

- Right, tell me

what they look like.

- Tried telling me he was

writing notes for a book.

- Notes for the loony

bin more like.

- Okay, so she has brown hair,

she's very attractive.

She's crazy, he's...

he's taller, darker, creepy.

Yeah.

The music

drifted to a whisper

and disappeared, dead.

He wasn't expecting

anymore visitors.

Why would he,

he hadn't done anything wrong.

- Ah, I'd like

the police, please.

- After all I've done to

protect you,

are you seriously going to

jeopardize everything?

- I never wanted this.

- Okay,

now you're thinking it through.

So where's that damn book

because were gonna burn it.

- I've done it already.

- If that ever gets out

your career is over.

I tidied up your mess,

don't worry.

- Because he was a fan, you see.

A real fan.

The end.

- You're welcome.

- Thank you.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I've been

an agent in this business

for more years than I care to

share with you here tonight.

Now I never had a shred of doubt

that one day this client of mine

would achieve great things.

It's one thing to sell books

by the bucket load,

but to write a novel

so full of poetry and soul.

To touch a nation so profoundly

with this incredible

work of art an--

Yes, that's what this is.

Well, I'm just glad to

call this man my friend.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I give you Gilliger Graham.

- Wrote it down.

As a boy I, um, I watched my

father give speeches like this.

And I was always in the

audience looking on, looking up.

Now, I am sure I don't need to

tell many of you that

he was a brilliant writer.

And in a way standing here

talking to you tonight,

accepting this incredible award.

The Goldman book

of the year award.

I, um, I owe this to him.

He was with me every step of

the way when I was writing this.

You could say that it's as

much his story as it is mine.

Anyway, I just wanted

to say thank you, Dad.

We did it.

I win.

I win. I f*cking win.

Hocus Pocus.

Hmm.

- Room service.

Where would you like it, sir?

- Ah, on the

coffee table, please.

Don't tell your boss.

- Thank you.

Oh, I almost forgot.

A lady asked me to

deliver this to you.

- A lady. What lady?

- It happens all the time, sir.

I imagine she was just

trying to get into your room.

- Oh yeah, I suppose.

- Good night, sir.

- Good night.

- Sorry honey,

I must have overslept.

Shall I do us a nice

breakfast to make up for it?

- Let me in,

I know you're in there!

Let me in!

- Can you

read it with me?