DRAMATIC MUSIC Subtitles by Deluxe www.able.co.nz Captions were made possible with funding from NZ On Air. Able 2016 . (BIRDS CAWING) (INDISTINCT CHATTER) WOMAN: 'The wind had stopped. It was quiet. The sky hung over us like a dead man. We felt each other's hearts.' And knew love could be found anywhere. That was really something, Caroline. It was so full of hope. And the expression you used about the sky. The sky hung over us like a dead man. Yes. Like a dead man. Teresa, what do we call that? I'd call that all right. That's a simile. Right, Mr Howarth. That's right, Wanda. You've personified the word 'sky', here, and given it a human quality. Teresa, can you give me an example of a personification? Earth to Teresa! Please respond. Ladies. Under the opening eyelids of the morn we drove afield and both together heard what time the grey fly winds her sultry horn. Yes, that's a very good example. The writer in this case, Milton, says the morning has eyelids like a man. (KNOCKING ON GLASS) WARDEN OVER MICROPHONE: Time's up, Mr Howarth. On that note, I have to say goodbye. As you all know, this class completes our course. Oh. You might be back, Mr Howarth. She's right. Most of us have been in here more than once. Well, if I do see any of you again, I hope it's on the outside. Thank you for your great work. I hope I've given you some useful tools to help you with your writing. And remember, each of you has a story to tell so sit down and write it. And, who knows, maybe I'll be reading yours some day. (DOOR BUZZER) WOMAN: See ya. Thank you. Hey, Teresa. You got a sec? Did the class help you? I haven't been able to write since I got here. I know. But every writer has felt like you do now. In prison? Metaphorically speaking? Yes. Blocked. Unsure of herself. It's obvious you're really smart and well read but you haven't written a word for me. Twelve sessions and I didn't get a single sentence from you. Well, I got a couple of years here to kick it around. So you are thinking about something. Just start writing. You might surprise yourself. It's about a young woman. A girl, really. Sixteen. Went to university early. Ah, an honour student. Yeah. Top of her class all of her life. Then she goes to college and she gets mixed up with a professor. Oh, an affair. And it goes bad for her. Him too. She kills him. And...? That's all I got. Well, it's a start. It's a bit broad but that's OK. There's definitely conflict there. So write something down, damn it. I will. And thanks. Hey, it's my job. Good luck. Good news, Lana. You are definitely pregnant. And the tests show this baby is viable. Oh, my God. That's great. I really want this baby. I know you do. So, your husband. It's probably a good time to tell him. I want to wait just a little bit more. When we lost the last one he got very depressed. We both did. Believe me, I get it. I know it's been tough on both of you. But you have stay relaxed through the pregnancy. I don't want you to worry yourself. I know the drill. No stress. Good. I'm going to start you on some new medication for your blood pressure and you keep close tabs on your insulin. I always do. It's gonna happen, Lana. (GUNSHOT) (CHICKENS SQUAWKING) Hard at work? It's either this or shoot the computer. Your sister really came through. It's the best wedding present ever. Instead of scaring my chickens, call Erica. She'll extend the deadline. My extremely patient publisher has already extended it, twice. Return the advance. After your last book you can afford to sit back and wait till the muse strikes. Sure. Sign away the money and my self respect. I need to get a new book out before everyone forgets who I am. I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight after your talk. What talk? At the book store. Is that tonight? Your public awaits. Oh, God. So, dinner? In town? Time to talk. Yeah. Yeah. From The Sound And The Fury to Huck Finn, all great stories are well structured. And by structure I mean more than beginning, middle and end. I'm talking about layering in sub-plots which carry the theme while the main story moves along. Excuse me. Yeah. So you're saying plot is more important than character. You need both. Any plot is much more satisfying if it focusses on real characters. So, you write one book nobody buys and then Killer Student sells like hot cakes. What do you think make people eat it up? You know... I don't know. I poured my heart and soul into it but I do that with all my writing. I guess there's just something about a good murder, right? (ALL LAUGH) OK, I think maybe time for one more question and then we'll let Nick sign some books. TERESA: Where did you get the idea for Killer Student, Mr Howarth? Uh... Where does any idea come from? People, situations, right? The unconscious soup that all writers just spoon up. It isn't just about the idea. It's about the execution. OK. This made me a big fan. When's your next one coming out? Soon. Don't worry. Very soon. Hi, Mr Howarth. I'm a big fan too. You know, I had to read it twice. The first time I just couldn't believe it. Let me tell you what to write. After all, we work best that way. To a very real character... ..who found herself in a very real plot. I, uh... I appreciate your support. No doubt. Tell me, are you still teaching? No, I haven't since... Well, not for some time. Well, that's my loss. Hey, it's late. OK, a few more. Thanks. We should have had dinner in town, I'm sorry. No, you couldn't leave before you'd signed everybody's book. Who was that girl at the end? (COUGHS) Which one? The pretty one. Oh, that's just a former student of mine. That's all. I taught her years ago. Listen, honey, I've been thinking. How about we get away for a week or two? We've been promising ourselves Maui. We could pack up tonight. I promised Shannon we'd visit next week. It's her birthday, remember? We'll get her a present in Hawaii. I'm serious. We wanted to see her remodel, get some ideas for this place. I'm offering you Kaanapali and you're talking about your sister in Seattle? Come on, let's just pack up and leave like we used to. Babe, what do you say? Uh... She was really flirty, wasn't she? Who? No. Yes. Yeah, a little. Was she like that in class? No. Not one little bit. Look, you're the only ex-student of mine I care about. And the one and the only one that I wanna take to the islands. Nick, I'm not going to Hawaii with this book hanging over our heads. Why? You'll be a total pain. If you can't write here, you won't be able to write on a beach in Maui. You wait, by the end of the week, I'll have a couple of chapters. Then we'll get on a plane. Deal? Deal. (RINGING) MAN: PAC West. Hi. I'm calling about a former prisoner there. A Teresa Smith. I see from your website she was released last April. OK. I was wondering if I could get the name of her parole officer. I'm sorry but we cannot release that information. You see, I used to work there. She was a student of mine. We're not permitted to release that information. You can send an inquiry to the Board Of Corrections. OK, thanks. You're welcome. (BEEP) (GEESE HONKING) (WHISTLING) Not much here, Nick. How did you get in here? Oh, these big, old houses are no problem to get into. What's the matter? Lost your muse? Sit down. (SCOFFS) Now. I want my life back. What are you talking about? You took my life. I want it back. What life? My story. My past. It's all I have, it's all any writer has. What do you know about writing? Have you written a single word since my class? I gave you a story. A very commercial one, as it turns out. You had an idea. Everybody in the world has ideas, so get over it. Every week I saw Killer Student on the best-seller list. Every review. Every interview. And it felt like you took something from me that I could never have back. Wait a minute - But what could I do locked up in prison? The parole board wants to hear me quoting the Bible, not claiming that some novelist ripped me off. Nobody ripped you off, Teresa. I wrote 100,000 words from a one sentence idea. Trouble is I can't do anything with that idea now, can I? You used it. This is crazy. I have to get back to work. Not to this drivel, I hope. Oops, gone. Damn it, Teresa. I thought a lot about you touching me in prison. I fantasised about you. Or the idea of you. Does that count? The idea of a man. Ideas are nothing unless they're acted on. Otherwise they're just daydreams. Now, what do you want? Half. And no, I'm not daydreaming. Half of your royalties from Killer Student. The same for TV and film rights. And I want a press conference to announce why you're doing it. No. And are you out of your fricking mind? No! You're so funny. But then again, all good writers are. Why don't critics ever talk about how funny Faulkner was? It's time for you to leave. We'll never know how much of that book was yours and how much was mine. 50/50 is the only fair solution. And you coming clean to the public, of course. No way. No way. It would ruin my reputation. I would never be published again. You might as well kill me. (DOOR OPENS) Hello. It's Lana, right? I'm Teresa Smith. I'm just a big fan of your husband. Not to worry, Nick, I'm sure that we can work out something...together. Work what out? Oh, I'm just looking for a new writing teacher. Someone that I can trust just as much as I used to trust your husband. Talk soon, Nick. She's... ..blocked. Like so many wannabe writers she wants to talk about writing instead of doing it. And she wants to talk about it with you, Nick, here in my house. Yes. Because I was her teacher and that's all I was. You good? Yeah, great. Go, the Bay! Yeah, go, the Bay. Hang on, which bay? Bay of Plenty. The Bay. No, the real Bay, of course. Hawke's Bay. WHISTLE BLOWS (PHONE RINGS) Hello. (CALLER HANGS UP) Hello. (SPEED DIALLING) (RINGING) WOMAN: Hello. Hey, it's your little sister. Hey, what's up? What's up? Well, I wanna have a glass of wine but I'm not allowed in my condition. I have no clue what to do for dinner and I want to kill my husband. Here's what you do. Drink the wine, order take out... Wait, you're pregnant? Almost eight weeks. I haven't told Nick yet. He's too busy writing, or not writing, his new book. You have to tell him. Let him take care of YOU for a change. It'll send him over the edge. He'll learn to fly. Why don't you come see me. You need someone who's going to take care of you. (BEEP) There's someone on the other line, let me get rid of them. Hello. (CALLER HANGS UP) Hello. Shannon, they hung up. It was probably the pretty psycho girl. Psycho girl? Some ex-student of Nick's that has just come out... What's for dinner? Whatever you decide to cook. So, Shannon, what do you want for your birthday? (CAR ENGINE STARTS) Hi, little chickies. (DOOR OPENS) (FOOTSTEPS) You're a creature of habit, aren't you? Easy to find. Look, I've been thinking about things. You've been thinking about me? I can give you a loan, something to help you get on your feet. How about ten? Ten? Thousand. Thanks for the thought. Now think bigger. Exponentially bigger. You're an ex-con. Who's going to believe you? Oh, Nicky. You'd be surprised. You know what? Take it or leave it. I'm sorry, Nick, but I'm gonna have to decline your proposition. Marsha, hi. Hi. This is an old student of mine, Teresa Smith. Oh, not that old, Nick. I saw you at the book signing. Yes, I love your store. All the little books, these fresh baked pastries for $4.50 a piece. My goodness. A girl's got to have money even in a small town, huh? Right, Nick? Well, see you, Marsha. I'll call you later tonight, Nicky. Looks like she has a serious crush on the teacher. Nope. She's got another fantasy going. Oh, hi, Lana. What a surprise. How are you? Hello. It's Teresa. Mm-hm. Doing some shopping? Me too. (Out of condoms.) Just ran into an old boyfriend and...you know. That's fascinating(!) Yeah, well, there's no sex as good as sex with your ex. So I'm stocking up. You know what they say, better safe. Teresa, if you really wanna be safe, stay away from my husband. It's like she was stalking me to tell me there was something between you two. Believe me, there wasn't. Or there still is. Come on. That's ridiculous. Then why is she acting like this? The old crush on the teacher thing. It's stupid. Was it stupid when we met? Stop by Sammy's, see if the truck's ready. Did you call him? He said pick it up Thursday. I called him. It's not done. How did the chickens get out? Did you forget to shut the coop? No. I'll get them. (SQUAWKING) (LAUGHS) I don't know why I like these stupid things. Hopefully because I gave them to you. Babe, I swear there's nothing going on. When she was my student, I gave her a lot of attention but only to get her writing. How about I give you some attention? Not in front of the chickens. Poor things, there's no rooster around to give them some love. I'll meet you inside. OK. (DOOR OPENS) Those damn birds are dumber than... What? No, no. Teresa said she was buying these at the pharmacy for her old boyfriend. Lana, calm down. Would I be stupid enough to do something in our house? She's playing a game to make you think there's... (DOOR SLAMS) ..something going on. Could you leave, please. I need to keep my blood pressure down. All right. OK. I haven't been honest with you. I met her in prison. She was a student from that session I did at PAC West. I never slept with her. What does she want? She wants the world to know that Killer Student is her book. It isn't. It's mine. But... She had this idea about a girl... ..killing her teacher. It was my last day. I got her to open up a little bit and she talked to me about it. But she never showed me anything on paper. I couldn't get it out of my head. Sex, passion, murder. What's not to like? For three years it just went around and around. After a while, it felt like mine. It turned into mine. And I made it mine when I wrote it. She didn't write one word. That girl, she couldn't write a grocery list. That's why I'll be damned if she get's any recognition, much less half the royalties. Have you talked to Phil? If I get a lawyer involved it goes public. You should have thought of that beforehand. I didn't do anything wrong. I took what was just a conversation and I turned it into a novel. It happens every single day. Legal or moral, I just don't want her trashing my reputation. You know what? I'll pay her off under the table. Will you at least talk to Erica? What good is talking to a publisher? So she can think that the book isn't really mine? This woman is a criminal. Who knows what she might do? I'm not gonna let some felon jeopardize my career. I'm finally experiencing success and I won't risk losing that. I won't. And no one can make me. (WHEELS CLATTERING) What the hell? Where are you going? Shannon's. It's her birthday, remember? But that's not till next week. Let me go. Why are you leaving? You know there's nothing going on with that girl. It is not always about you, Nick. Whether you flirted with her or screwed her on the roof, I really need to stay calm right now. I know. I know. Your blood pressure. Why don't you just stay and let me take care of you? Right. You take care of me. I will. I love you, I can do this. How? That book had you crazy even before that girl showed up and you won't ask anyone for help. I'll call you when I get to Shannon's. You don't have to do this. Yes, I do, Nick. You have work to do and you have to fix whatever it is that you have done. I know. Feed the chickens. Take care of the problem, Nick. So that I can come home. (PLAYING WITH SLINKY TOY) (DOOR OPENS) Lana? What the hell are you doing here? Sure beats those prison treats. I want you out of my house. You're still playing with me and I don't appreciate it. This is serious. Don't think your stunt drove Lana away. That was you. Now it's your turn. Get out! After I've responded to your offer. What offer? I want $10,000 this week and another $10,000 next. Cash. Get out of my life! That's not the support I'm looking for. Then contact my lawyer. And you can talk to mine. He'll be at the press conference. What you said in Killer Student, it's true. Killing is never spontaneous. It might appear sudden to the victim, but the killer's fantasised about it for a long, long time. But when you look at me, Nick, I don't think it's violence you fantasize about. Sheriff, Nick Howarth. We bought the Hartley farm a while ago. Oh, yeah. The writer guy. What can I do for you? I have a problem. A former student of mine has been coming around and stalking us. Look, she's a felon, an ex-con and now she's trying to shake me down. Shake you down? For what, exactly? For starters, she wants my wife to believe that we had an affair. Did you? No. No, no. Absolutely not. But she broke into my house. She's harassing us and now she's demanding money to stop. What's her name again? Teresa Smith. Middle initial 'A'. She was a student of mine at PAC West correctional. I've got a match, Sheriff. Teresa Arlington Smith. Yeah. Just one arrest and one conviction but it's a good one. Voluntary manslaughter. College cops at OSU arrested her. She was 17. I remember hearing about that. Went and killed her professor or something. Sentenced 6 to 15 years. Paroled first time up. She killed her teacher. Mm-hm. She works at the '50s dinner here in town and she's sticking to her parole. I'm not sure what I can do right now. I could go and talk to her, but why exactly is she doing this to you? She knew me from prison. She thinks I'm an easy mark. Why did she kill her college professor? Who knows? But, you know, murderers, especially the female ones, have the lowest recidivism rate of all criminals. They kill a guy who was abusing them, do their time and become model citizens. Sheriff, I'm asking you to help me with someone who is terrorising my family. I pay my taxes. Easy now. I have an idea. If we could somehow catch her in the act... Yes, that's it. Then I can close the book on her for good. He swears nothing's going on, but I just had to get out. I could literally feel the blood start to boil behind my eyeballs. I wonder how long she's been on his mind. Bastard. I wanted to tell him about the baby. But there was the book and the deadline and now she keeps popping up. Don't obsess over it. Let Nick take care of it. What if he can't? It is scary what she's asking for. The money and telling everybody it's her story. I see why he's scared. I'm scared. I cannot go thorough another miscarriage. You're not going to. You can stay here the whole time if you have to. Oh. Yeah, see you tomorrow, bitch. Then it's all over. No. (RINGING) (NICK TYPING) (RINGING CONTINUES) Screw you, Teresa. I'm writing. You should try it some time. (RINGING) (RINGTONE) Hi, Nick. Lana, hi. I'm writing. I stayed up all night and piled up the pages. I finally found a way into that story. That is good. Yeah, so come home, honey. Now that I'm writing, I'm a normal human being again. I miss you. And the chickens and I, we're all crying your name around here. How about our other problem? Oh, I'm on that too. That'll all be solved later today. Why? What happens then? Don't worry. The Sheriff and I have a plan. She's going back to jail. Will it be dangerous? No, it'll be quick and clean. We can't have her messing with our marriage. No, we can't. Especially now. OK. I'll check in later. I love you. Hey, Nicky. I'm here. Hope you're hungry, cos I'm starving. Spaghetti carbonara OK? Cut it out, Teresa. Oh, someone's having a hard day. We both know why you're here. OK, I want you to give it to me. Huh? Look, I like talking dirty in bed too. But right now I'm trying to prepare lunch. There it is. It's all there. The money. Nick, I know you like giving me presents but I don't want your money. That makes me feel cheap. Besides, after last night I'm the one who owes you. (SHERRIFF CLEARS THROAT) I've heard enough, kids. No, Sherriff. This isn't... She's acting. Son, I never know when they're acting or not. OK, what's going on? Look, here's the money. Mr Howarth, I don't have enough proof here. I never heard her ask you for money and she wouldn't take it when you offered it to her. She must've known you were here. If you're feeling guilty because you're cheating, you don't have to - Shut up! Steady there. She has a violent record. Doesn't that give me the benefit of the doubt? Yes. And that's why I came by but you have wasted enough of my time. I'm not done. I'm filing a report. Fine. When will your wife be available for questioning? OK, how did you know? I went to the chicken coop to get eggs for the carbonara. Imagine my surprise when I saw the police cruiser beside the barn. We're not going to get anywhere with you playing games like that, Nicky. Two guys go into a bar. One's a rabbi, one's a priest. No, this isn't a joke. They have a beer. One guy tells the other guy a story. Ugh, you're so transparent. Afterwards the other guy goes home and spends a year writing a novel just from the outline of that exchange. You're right. This isn't a joke. Does the novelist owe the other guy half of what he made on the novel just because of a conversation? Depends. Are they friends BS-ing over a beer? In that case, no money is owed. But if they're both writers, that's something else. And if one guy's the young girl's writing teacher... I didn't think you would do anything with it, ever. Did you? Did you even try? And if the young girl's down on her luck with nothing in the world except that story well, then, that's an undeniably lethal situation. I'm not scared of you. I don't want you scared. I want you writing. We're not two guys at a bar, Nick. We're real. Our stories, they're real. It hurts to have them stolen. When that happens, things get ugly. Where's my book? All my files are gone. Flash drive. Where is it? Hi, Nicky. I want it back. More coffee, Sheriff? Tell me though, why the title The First Wife? Give me back my book. One condition. One little change. No. It's mine. Hell of a good read. Oh, it's better than good. It's brilliant. Would you sign it for me? Yeah. Thanks, Sheriff. You know, I can't help noticing how Miss Smith's own life is an inspiration for you. He says it all the time, Sheriff. I do not. Oh. No, any similarities are strictly coincidental. It's a little surprising seeing you in here with her, Mr Howarth. Oh, no. This is not a social call. We're talking about another book. Really? Mm-hm. No. No. Not at all, actually. Well, good luck. Or not. (DOOR CLOSES) One condition. And one change. What? We're partners all the way. 50/50. And I'll forget what you did to me with Killer Student. I won't change a word. One little change. On the title page. Not happening. Crazy bitch. That one always depressed me. I like this book. It's the author who has me worried. He said it would all be over today but I haven't heard from him. You really think there's something between him and Little Miss Demented? I know know. Are you OK? I just wish I knew what was really going on. Don't think that he wants her. You know he doesn't. He wants you and a kid. I'm afraid what he really wants is success. Sometimes I think that's all he loves. (SIGHS) I can't find my phone. Did you take it? What do you want in your omelette? You do realise I can shoot you right now for trespassing. Careful. Writing in prison isn't easy. My phone. Are we really gonna do this, Nicky? (SIGHS) Come on, lighten up. Have something to eat. Tomatoes, scallions and feta. Or you can have that pizza you've got in the freezer. Dinner's at 8:00. And spruce a bit, will ya? Get writing and I'll be back after work. (MOBILE RINGS) Hello. WOMAN: Nick? Yes, this is Nick's cell. I'm his assistant, Teresa Smith. He's busy writing right now. Well, hallelujah. Is he available this weekend? Not sure. He's really rolling. Tell him Erica Edwards will be in Seattle on Friday. I'd like to come and see him on Saturday. Read a few chapters of the new book. Yes, I'll give him the message. Dinner is served. Voila. This looks incredible. They have cooking classes in prison too? I'm more than just a felon, you know. Actually, I don't. Why don't you tell me. Why? So you can steal it for the prequel? When I wrote Killer Student, I didn't know that was` Didn't know or didn't want to know? Both. The prison didn't give me your case history. It wasn't allowed. And when I sat down to write the book, I didn't do any research on you. You didn't have to. I already told you. An idea in three lines. The girl in my book wasn't you. Of course she was me. She killed her teacher out of passion. What happened... ..with him? (CLEARS THROAT) Here's the Cliff Notes version. She fell in love with her English professor and not because he was smart and literate but because he read poetry to her. He was her mentor. Her friend. Her lover. But it was just a pathetic daddy complex. It doesn't matter if it was a father complex. You loved him. And he dumped me. I was crushed. So, how did you do it? What a crime groupie you are. All writers are. My professor's last book was A Literary History Of Threnody. Those are speeches that are given at... Yeah. Funerals. Lamentations. Elegies. Right. Here I am feeling like I'm about to die, and this guy is writing on what to say about dead people. I took my gun to his office. I found the bastard screwing the next girl he had in line. I made her go home, sat down, and I made him read me his whole book. It took hours. And when it was over I took the gun and I aimed it... ..at my head. And I asked him, "Which one of these famous speeches are you going to read over my dead body?" And I swear if he'd said Romeo and Juliet, he'd still be alive today. Well, which did he pick? Well, he wasn't a romantic. He picked Mark Antony's eulogy for Julius Caesar. So I shot the bastard. I'll never be treated like that again. (FOOTSTEPS) I formalised our agreement. You did what? Our deal about sharing credit and money on The First Wife. I've been thinking about that. You know, it would be better for you if your first book had your name alone. I have a reputation, everyone would think I did all the work. Oh, my God! You're giving me the whole book? Oh, my God, Nick! Thank you! Thank you! No, hold on. Wait a second. I know, I know. You're married. It's just... This is the greatest thing anyone's ever done for me. You don't understand. I'm not talking about giving you The First Wife. I'm talking about sponsoring your novel. The one you're working on. I'll work with you on it and I'll guarantee it get's published. Your writing, your work, your name. You're really going to try and screw me again? No. I want to help you become a real writer. The First Wife is a book. It's not some movie where no one cares who wrote it. It's a novel. Having two names on it wouldn't do either of us any good. It would do me good. OK. I promise I'll read this, OK. I don't care if you read it. Sign it. Do you want to kill me, Teresa? What I want is this book. It's mine. I'm writing it. I'm making it. It's like a child. I can't just give it up. Even if you killed me. (GROANS) I killed a writer who used me. But I let him finish his book. (SCREAMS) So I'll extend you the same courtesy. Go ahead and make your baby, Nick. But remember, people die in child birth. (GROANS) A novel of your own. Nick likes it. Well, send me a chapter. Great. I'll get it to you tonight. Oh my God. Ouch. It's not that bad. What happened? Barn door. You have time for a coffee? Oh, I'd better not. I'm short staffed. I need to ask you a favour. Could you hang on to this for me? What is it? It's my new book, actually. I don't get it. It's a little hard to explain. I would just feel better having a copy of it out of the house. Don't you have a copy on the cloud? Yeah, but that's only as safe as your computer. If someone hacks in... OK, yeah. Sure. But I am going to read it. That's fine. Oh, the special order your assistant placed for you has come in. Who? Teresa. Did you know this was dedicated to her? No, I did not. OK. (CLICKING) 'Dedicated to Teresa. 'So young and fair 'she'll dance on my grave.' Irony. (MARSHA YELPS) (MOBILE RINGING) Erica. You're a real-life genius, Nick. I should wake up this way every morning. Or afternoon. You deserve to. Not only did you give me a huge best seller but you've got a protege who is about to do the same. What are you talking about? The First Wife. It's gonna be the biggest slam dunk since Killer Student. How did you get it? She emailed it to me last night. She? Teresa? Yeah. Yeah, wherever did you find her? It's not her book. It's mine. The little bitch stole my book. Uh, Nick, look. I'm flying to Seattle tonight. It's mine, Erica. I wrote every word. OK, all the more reason that we should meet. Teresa, you're not going to dance on my grave. OK. No, no, no. Nothing. (RINGING) ANSWER PHONE: You've reached Langley Books And Coffee, leave a message or just come on down. (BEEP) It's Nick. Can you call me as soon as you open. Never mind, I'm on my way down to the store myself. I'm gonna kill that little bitch! Feed the chickens. Oh great. We need to talk. Yeah. I agree. I got a lot to tell you. It's been pretty crazy around here. How are my birds? What is it? They, uh... Sorry, I... They're dead. And you can bury them. Teresa broke into the house again. Took every file of my book. Luckily I gave one to Marsha. Marsha. Do you think that after Teresa, Marsha and Erica and God knows who else, you could give one minute for your pregnant wife? How long? About nine weeks. I had no idea. Oh, my God. How are you? Pissed. And scared. Don't be... Not of Teresa. Of you. I am going to need you full time if we go through with this. If they gave a Pulitzer for selfishness, you would be the first candidate. You know I'll be there for you. I don't know that at all. You are so used to me making everything OK for you. I can take care of you. My hypertension is a problem, OK. And my diabetes. I'm sorry. The truth is, this isn't going to be easy. I might not even make it to full term. But I really want this baby. So do I, honey. So do I. Just give her half of what you've made. An agreement beforehand wouldn't have given her 5%. That's why you should've had an agreement beforehand. Yeah. And a press conference too, huh? Well, maybe a press conference saying it was her idea that got you started. All I know is I sure as hell don't owe her my next book. No, you don't. (MOBILE RINGS) Hey, Marsha. What? When? Did you see who? That's all right. It's OK. Don't worry about it. As long as you're not hurt badly. OK. Thanks. Teresa? She mugged Marsha last night. And got the back-up copy of my book. Oh, no. Well, now the Sheriff can arrest her. No, Marsha didn't see her. What the hell am I gonna do? You said that Erica read it so she has a copy. Teresa emailed her a copy, said it was hers. Erica knows you. Don't panic. I swear to God, I could kill her. Don't go near her or you might. You're right. I'm gonna end this right now. With a big cheque. Half the royalties from Killer Student. Let a lawyer do it. I can't wait. I haven't copyrighted the next book. She could be out there sending it to other publishers right now. I'm sorry, babe. I'll be giving her a lot of money. We'll have enough left. Today's special is Salisbury steak. Wow. Oh, Nick. You write the sweetest things. But that's nothing compared to what I can get for The First Wife. You're not getting anything from that book. But I will give you half of Killer Student. And we can have a press conference. Nick, don't you see? This isn't really about money. This is about writing. You were right. A book with two names on it does nothing for me. But my own, this one, would really establish me. You're insane. And attacking Marsha like that. And betraying me like that? I thought we had a deal. I've done all I can to help you write. I can do even more and I'll give you money but I will not allow you to plagiarise me. You plagiarised my life. I wrote my story. You could have written yours if you could have written. You try writing in jail. I could write anywhere but you just talk about it. Anywhere, huh? You should know I'm not all talk. I don't have time for this. (SCREAMS) You OK? Get away from me. (SOBBING) Oh, my God! Don't let him murder me, please. (SOBBING) (KEYS JANGLING) Did you finally figure out I didn't do it? No. You made bail. Sign here to confirm receipt of your personal items. You don't really think I assaulted her. You've read her record. You know she's dangerous. Why is she going after you? Did you take her story or something? The story is irrelevant. What I'm afraid of is that the next time she won't hurt herself but someone else. Nick! Hi. I'm so sorry. I can't believe this. Are you OK? Yeah. Look, Erica. Just so you know. I didn't assault that girl. Jail time only adds to a writer's tool box. And it doesn't hurt book sales either. Let's go home. I know Killer Student is your story and your characters, but if Teresa goes to trial anything is possible. Could they say The First Wife is hers too? Sure, you never know what a jury could do. They maybe would award her royalties from both books. She can't be a part of Nick's career forever. I've got to get rid of her. Get a quitclaim from her on Killer Student. That way she can't come after you or me as the deep pockets publisher. (KNOCK ON DOOR) I'm glad you did that to yourself. Payback for Marsha. You're the one who got her involved. What do you want? I'm here to see my publisher. Teresa Arlington Smith. Very nice to meet you. All right, then. Welcome home, Lana. We missed you. Teresa, I know you say The First Wife is your book, but I have my doubts. After his awful first book of course you have doubts as to how Nick got something as good as Killer Student. He got it because he's a good writer. I'm sure you think he's good at a lot of things. Now I want what's mine. So you're saying this is your work? I'm saying that it has to be mine given the history Nick and I have. Not to mention my medical bills right now. It doesn't have to be yours, honey, unless you wrote it. You know you didn't. Nick did. I'm the only reason he had anything good to write at all. What did you give him? Late Spring Dead Harvest? I like that book. You and nobody else. Certainly not to the taste of a prison book club. Yes, Lana. I did my time. But you're still doing yours. As a housewife. Better housewife than murderer. Not in my book, so to speak. Ladies. Please. The First Wife is all yours. Nick. Nick, at least let me call the lawyers first. Bravo. Maybe you have learnt something. Nick, do not make this deal. It's the best I can get right now. Giving up even a part of Killer Student would taint me forever. If I owe her something, and maybe I really do, this is the easiest thing to do. Drop the assault charges and the book is yours. Deal. I know you didn't mean to attack me like that. Well, Teresa, I guess I'll send you contracts from New York next week. Thank you. This ends whatever relationship you think we ever had. Oh, Nick. There's no need to be so nasty. Get out of my house. Thanks for the bagel. (ENGINE STARTS) Thank God that's over. And guess what. What? Before the baby's born, I'm gonna have a draft of something new. I've got a great idea. Excellent. Keep cranking them out. Books...not babies. (LAUGHS) OK, well, let me know when you're ready and I'll take you to the airport. I'll take her. Erica wanted to do some shopping before she left. Oh, sure. Now that all the excitement's over. OK. I'll just go write some thoughts down, then. Uh-huh. OK, let's go shopping. TENSE MUSIC What's the matter? Miss your flight? We have bigger problems. She forced us off the road. I jumped to the final chapter of my book and found your sorry excuse for an ending. I liked the ending. There is no ending. The two lovers just walk away from each other. This isn't a stupid foreign movie. This has to be a New York Times best seller. OK. OK, just put the gun down and we'll talk. Talk? What I want you to do is write. And you know what they say, Nick. The hardest part about writing is rewriting. Cosy, huh? No wireless, phone, fax. How do you want your eggs? He likes them soft in the middle, just a trace of cumin. So, this is how it's going to work. There is no happy ending unless I get what I want. I will write you an ending but only if you put down the gun. Make it good, Nicky. Unpredictable. (FOOTSTEPS) (SIGHS) You have to do better than that. No stupid talk of murder. You're going to write her an ending and write her a good one. Make the book better. Whose side are you on? The book's. You just want another best seller. Admit it, so do you. Erica, we're missing you. I'm not feeling particularly creative. OK, let's try an exercise. My cell is in my bag in the car. How would your hero get it? Sorry, Lana, but I need your phone. I will take that. Mama's little helpers, huh? Literally. I'm pregnant. Oh, wow. Oh, well. I'm happy for you. I wonder what my professor would have done if I had been pregnant. If a man's going to leave you it probably doesn't make any difference. Yeah, you're right. Actually, my professor saw me the same way Nick did. A young girl only good for one thing. A book. You know, I was serious when I said I wanted to read something of yours. Prison diary? Really? Sure. Hang on, there's no lesbian shower scenes here. More like how I felt when I saw Nick on TV plugging Killer Student. Envy, anger. A lot of feeling there I bet. You have no idea. Life is just one man after another. Taking your body, messing with your mind. A history of abuse, the shrinks say. But at least it was my history. Can I make you something? Sure, mom. How about an omelette. (LOUD TYPING) (LOUD TYPING CONTINUES) Hi, daddy. I told you not to play games with me. (OWL HOOTING) The gun against her temple felt cold like a doctor's instrument. Stop. It's unbearable. The bad girl is not going to kill herself. Well, I think you're on the right path, Nick. The girl is self-destructive but I don't think she's suicidal. It has to be better. After all, it is my name on the book. Have you always hated men? Probably. Why did you really kill your professor? I told you, cumin works wonders. And I told you, because he betrayed me. The real reason, Teresa. It'll help me with the ending. Do I have to do all the work? Did you kill him because he knew you couldn't write? Easy, Nick. That's why he dumped you, isn't it? Like so many writing students you were just a dilettante afraid of the real work. He got bored of the sex and you panicked. What else could you offer him? Get back to your typing. Sleeping with the teacher didn't make you a writer any more than killing him did. My story gave you a best seller and a house for your new family but you won't be able to enjoy any of them unless you give me what you owe me. OK. (MOBILE RINGS) ANSWER PHONE: You've reached Nick. Leave a message. (BEEP) (DIALLING) WOMAN: What city? Langley, please. Cook County Sheriff's Office. Please hold while we connect you. OVER POLICE RADIO: We've got a request for a look-see. Caller says house and cell phones have been out for hours. You know our new policy on that. Caller is the sister of Lana Howarth. Says she doesn't trust the husband. Didn't we hold him last night for assault? We did. I'll check it out. (YAWNS) Teresa, I think he's got a good take here. Do you wanna hear it? Little bitch. What did you give me? What? Nothing. What did you give me? I didn't do anything. Damn it! (GUNSHOT) (FAINT GUNSHOT) Oh, my God. Oh, my God. If I kill you, they die too. That's the only way this story works. Shots fired at the Howarth place. Send me backup, pronto. WOMAN: On it. I'm not gonna ask you again. Blood pressure pills. Move your conniving ass and make me some coffee. Any day now, Nicky. I'm finished. It's all done. I'll see about that. It's just a first draft. (CREAKING) All right, let's go. Everybody in the living room. Come on. Let's go. We're moving. Now. Why the change in scenery? Just a little cosier in here. Ladies on the couch. It's just the wind. Where's the laptop? It's in the kitchen. Go get it. (Thank God you're here. She's got us all held hostage.) (Teresa? Is anyone hurt?) (No, not yet. But she's got a gun on my wife and on my publisher.) Nicky! (Don't let her hurt Lana. I'll go in and distract Teresa, you go round that way.) Here it is. The final chapter. I'll be the judge of that. Set it down. Oh, my God. Sheriff! Sheriff! These pills. You're really gonna have an easy pregnancy. SHERIFF: Give me my gun back! NICK: Teresa! Stop! (COCKS GUN) (SCREAMS) Nick! You guys OK? ERICA: Yeah. Help the Sheriff, get outside. You too, Nick, now. She is crazy. Let's go. The book is not worth dying over. This isn't about a book. I know you feel responsible for this mess. It's cos I am. But you are also responsible for me. And this child. Let her go, son. We'll get her. You gave her the book, you don't owe her anything more. Yes, I do. Go. I just want to talk to you. TERESA: Well, I want to kill you. You don't want to kill me. I'm not your professor. I haven't given up on you. You're exactly like him. (GUN COCKS) (SCREAMS) Nick! No, no. Wait for backup. NICK: Teresa, you're wrong! I went to that prison to teach not to find a story. All I wanted from you was for you to write. Yeah, well, you're a lousy teacher. You're right. I'm sorry. I let you down. You just realised this? Could have saved us a lot of time, Nick. But you would have lost a good story. You're right, Teresa. I was your teacher. My job was to get you to write your story and I didn't. You're a smart, amusing guy, Nick. But I don't love you. I never did. I never could. And because I don't love you... I could never kill you. I can't go back to prison. I finished reading what you wrote. It's good. At least I'll die with a good book to my name. How could you do that? Put your fingers on the keyboard. I can't. Fingers on the keys. Please don't do this. I can't. OK, then. (GUNSHOT) Lana, stop! Mrs Howarth, don't go in there. One page. That's all. I can't. I know what it's like. You have to write, but you just can't. It feels like death. Because it is death. You told me a story about a girl who killed a man who betrayed her. It's a good story, but it's not you. You are not your story. You can tell me another one now. A different one. I don't know another one. Why don't you tell me a story about a girl who could've just killed me but didn't? God, I wanted to. Yeah, but you didn't. You're not the same girl who killed her teacher. This time you want the book more than the guy. Come on, you can do this. (SIGHS) OK. But how do I write that? Just start with a character you know. Start with yourself. READS: When success came, he was determined to hang on to it. He was ruthless, even feral about it. Ask for just a crumb of his pie and he would crush you. But that didn't scare her. At first she thought it was because she was a victim of his success. After all, he deserved whatever she dished out. CONTINUES READING: Then she realised she wasn't afraid of him, because she understood him. In many ways she was just like her. They were both self-involved. Selfish. Obsessed with success and capable of hurting those around them. Especially those who were closest and best equipped to help. But these two writers eventually came together and, through conflict and competition, taught and learned from each other. The killer student had met a killer teacher. And this time, each one walked away a better person. Yeah. How did you feel when you saw the dedication? To Nicholas Howarth, an honour student's honourable teacher. I felt I'd earned it. (ALL LAUGH) Um, you keep in touch with the author? Uh... No. Not really. You know, as a writer, after you've learned all you can, after you've studied with all the so-called teachers... At that point, it's time to isolate yourself. Lock the doors. And just put pen to paper. Subtitles by Deluxe www.able.co.nz Captions were made possible with funding from NZ On Air. Able 2016