Push Me Away

By Branwell Brontë

You have the power to make me the happiest man in the world.
You can also make me the saddest person who ever lived.
In that sense, Ive set you up amongst the Gods.


January 28th 2012, his 44th birthday. John Eaglewood goes mysteriously missing. Left behind are his wife, Jessica and the on-off affair shared with one Julia Langley, a woman almost half his age.

Crowned in events leading to Eaglewoods sudden disappearance and set in both the 19th and 21st centuries, via an intricate mesh of journal entries, communications and other fragments, gradually unfolds a time bending story of obsession and betrayal. But what falls between the memoirs of a troubled Branwell Bront and latterly, the equally turbulent, murky life of a man vanished without trace for five years?

Over one and a half centuries awaiting completion, Push Me Away is the only novel by Branwell, much maligned brother of the Bront sisters, Charlotte, Emily & Anne.

Proof, if needed, that the greatest magician in the universe is time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Dec 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496997838

Branwell Brontë

Patrick Branwell Brontë was born 26th June 1817. The fourth and only son of the six Brontë children, as such it was always intended that of the family he should be encouraged in his chosen career of writer and artist. But sadly, it wasn’t to be. After the early deaths of his mother and elder sisters Maria and Elizabeth, his life, already haunted by bereavement and disease would be further plagued by depression, alcoholism and numerous occupational set backs. Ironically, where their fading brother was destined to go unpublished, under the assumed name Bell, (Currer, Charlotte; Ellis, Emily; and Acton, Anne) behind their brother’s back, secretly flourished the prestigious talents of his three surviving sisters. The likes of ‘Jane Eyre’ prospering amongst volumes of Branwell’s confused and fragmentary literary efforts set in his imaginary world of ‘Angria’ and starring his swashbuckling alter-ego ‘Northangerland’. (Pictured above) For all that, of what the rest of his family were entirely unaware, was the dawn of Branwell’s foremost brainchild; a vivid account of his own disheartening love story. A book that in order to see completed, in the very last days of his life, he literally hurled across the centuries. Branwell Brontë lived at the Parsonage, in Haworth Village, West Yorkshire. He died aged 31 in September 1848. Not until 2015 would time finally see published this, his first and part-posthumous novel, ‘Push Me Away’.

Book preview

P.B.BrontePortraitGraphicPen.jpg

About the Author

Patrick Branwell Brontë was born 26th June 1817. The fourth and only son of the six Brontë children, as such it was always intended that of the family he should be encouraged in his chosen career of writer and artist. But sadly, it wasn’t to be. After the early deaths of his mother and elder sisters Maria and Elizabeth, his life, already haunted by bereavement and disease would be further plagued by depression, alcoholism and numerous occupational set backs.

Ironically, where their fading brother was destined to go unpublished, under the assumed name Bell, behind their brother’s back, secretly flourished the prestigious talents of his three surviving sisters. The likes of ‘Jane Eyre’ prospering amongst volumes of Branwell’s confused and fragmentary literary efforts set in his imaginary world of ‘Angria’ and starring his swashbuckling alter-ego ‘Northangerland’. (Pictured)

For all that, of what the rest of his family were entirely unaware, was the dawn of Branwell’s foremost brainchild in the year that he died; a vivid account of his own disheartening love story. A book that in order to see it completed, in the very last days of his life, he literally hurled across the centuries.

Branwell Brontë lived at the Parsonage, in Haworth Village, West Yorkshire. He died aged 31 in September 1848. Not until 2015 would time finally see published this, his only novel, ‘Push Me Away’.

Push Me Away

BRANWELL BRONTË

51427.png

AuthorHouse™ UK

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403 USA

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

© 2014, 2015 Branwell Brontë. All rights reserved.

‘Northangerland’ aka Branwell Bronte

by Joseph b. Leyland

Front Cover Illustration:

Photo: © C Nozu

Design: Adam Grant

Back Cover Art:

‘The Bronte Sisters’ by P.B. Bronte

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/21/2015

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9782-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9781-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-9783-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

About The Author

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

With

John Eaglewood

For their co-operation and contributions a special thanks to

Vanessa Eaglewood

Detective Inspector Roy Harris, West Yorkshire Police

Audrey Hill

Dr. Balachandra Iqbal

Julia Langley

John Ivy Malone

Ellen Myers

&

Radio Lowfield

Northern Playground Productions Ltd

A DOCTOR LAMBERT–HILLS PRESENTATION

PART ONE

[2012]

Email to John Eaglewood from Julia Langley

Thursday 19th January 2012

Hi Hun, you seem a bit quiet? Hope you’re okay xxx

Sunday 22nd January 2012

I take it you’re ignoring me? x

Wednesday 25th January 2012

Last night was beyond a joke and a total embarrassment. Please never, ever do that again.

John’s reply

Oh dear, what did I do? I have no recollection of anything. At some point I blacked out. All I know was the absolute mess I was in. I must’ve collapsed. Woke up at the station with an ambulance crew all over me, pumping my stomach and forcing me to be sick. God. Sorry for whatever I did or said. What was it? I apologize to you babe and of course to anyone else for any hurt caused. But honestly, I don't remember anything. :(

Julia’s reply

Same old story but it's happened once too many times now. Shouting at me across a table 10 minutes after I'd walked in the pub, in front of everyone and god knows who else You're not interested in me any more, you never reply to my emails, give me a fucking cigarette and fuck off -

I really don't appreciate it at all. It's embarrassing; it's really, really stupid and what's more, utterly uncalled for.

I appreciate you had been out getting smashed since 1pm - but you know what? That's your choice. Nothing to do with me. So when I come into the pub unaware you are even going to be there and minding my own business, to have a drink with people I work with as well as a few friends, you included if you were capable, the last thing I'm interested in is dealing with that.

This time the sheer embarrassment of it overrode the fact you were genuinely disgustingly offensive to me. I finally got up and walked out of the pub to get away.

Opening sequence from the screenplay ‘Push Me Away’

By John Ivy Malone.

FADE IN

INT. 2012. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, EN SUITE SHOWER ROOM, EARLY EVENING, STILL LIGHT OUTSIDE

JOHN EAGLEWOOD’S face appears in the mirror. Carefully, he applies a thin line of black eyeliner to his lower eyelids.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, JESSICA EAGLEWOOD’S HOME OFFICE

JESSICA EAGLEWOOD sits at her sizeable desk. It sits up against and mimics the shape of the bay window. She’s working at a large computer, though there’s not much room for work. It’s crowded with stuff. The rest of room, a similar organized chaos. Business files, make up boxes, office equipment, magazines, books, CDs, cramming numerous shelving units.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, BEDROOM

John kneels at the dressing table mirror. He’s styling his hair with a hairdryer and a can of hair spray.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, JESSICA EAGLEWOOD’S HOME OFFICE

The couple’s black dog, OSCAR, stirs and adjusts his position in his bed. Jessica concentrates on her computer screen, typing up a business-like email.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, EN SUITE SHOWER ROOM

Again, John Eaglewood’s face appears in the mirror. Employing a pair of tweezers, he plucks at an eyebrow. Done, he turns and picks up a bottle of expensive aftershave and then to see how much remains, holds it up to the window light, before generously spraying behind his ears and both wrists.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, JESSICA EAGLEWOOD’S HOME OFFICE

On her knees, Jessica is methodically packing a professional cosmetology case with various make-up items, brushes, hair dressing scissors and suchlike.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, THE STAIRWELL FROM THE UPPER BEDROOM

John comes briskly down the stairs in a sharp blue suit and pointed beetle-boots.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, JESSICA EAGLEWOOD’S HOME OFFICE

JOHN

I’ve got to be going.

JESSICA

(Looking up from her packing)

You’ve overdone it with the perfume.

JOHN

It’ll wear off.

JESSICA

It’s about being subtle with it. What time will you be back?

JOHN

Don’t really know. Late I imagine. This guy likes to hang out a bit.

JOHN

(Continuing after a pause)

I’ll text you.

JESSICA

Still don’t see why he has to make it on your birthday.

JOHN

I know. Sorry. I should’ve told him really I suppose. But he flies back out tomorrow.

JESSICA

So what do you want to do tomorrow night instead then? You didn’t finish what you were saying earlier.

JOHN

Let’s go see a movie or something. Eat in

at that Thai place, like we did last year.

Or… I don’t know. Look, I’ve got to shoot

or I’ll be late. I’ll have a think about it.

John exits the room.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME. THE STAIRWELL TO THE GROUND FLOOR

John heads down the stairs into the hall. They have a key-rack. He takes his keys.

JESSICA’S VOICE

(Crying out)

Please don’t drink too much. And try not to wake me up when you get in. I have to be up early for this job.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME. JESSICA EAGLEWOOD’S HOME OFFICE

Jessica’s hand hovers over a battery charger. The sound of the front door closes. She plugs in the device. Thinks for a second, then gets up and crosses to the window. Pulling back the net curtain.

EXT. STREET OUTSIDE THE EAGLEWOOD’S HOME. A MIDDLE CLASS TERRACED ROW

There’s a well-balanced swagger about him as John wanders off down the road.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME. JESSICA EAGLEWOOD’S HOME OFFICE

From above Jessica watches him disappear. Catching him fumble in his inside jacket pocket. Pulling out his mobile phone.

Tess Donlevie’s Palm Reading of John Eaglewood

Tape recording. Date unknown. Estimated January 2012

TD: Right, you got a strong writer’s fork in your hand and a very strong mound of Venus. Here, you see how this part of your hand is quite full? This is someone who doesn’t do anything by halves. Very passionate. Okay?

Pause.

To me you’re kind of like a Phoenix rising.

Pause.

The way your thumb is set, it’s interesting. In a funny way there’s not a huge amount of confidence for day-to-day things and yet when you get into your talents, your abilities, the confidence is there. It’s like a double edge sword.

Now, let’s have a look here. Venus is the strongest part of your hand here and the mound of Venus is about beauty. You know, Venus being the planet that rules beauty. So there’s a real connection to the natural world.

I’m just going to have a look here at this big mound of Neptune. A slight bump here in the hand, which is a mound of Neptune. You feel quite Neptunist to me – what I call Neptunist. You’re going to think, what’s she on about? But Neptune is… it’s a planet, which is kind of a slippery planet. Its energies are to do with psychic ability. It’s also to do with attraction to drugs, to alcohol, casual sex, that kind of thing. It’s all wrapped up in the same thing. That’s why you encounter these gypsies that are pissed out of their brains, but incredibly psychic! They’ve got a connection with Neptune. But the trouble with Neptune, it’s like this ladder and at the top of the ladder, if you like, there’s the sky, the night sky with stars and magic or whatever up there. The bottom of the ladder is like a puddle and you see the reflection of the magic in that puddle. So you go, ‘oh that’s nice, there’s all the magic.’ But it’s not – in that puddle are contaminations of all kinds – any excessive indulgences. So most people exist kind of half way up that ladder. They go from one point to the other sort of thing. What happens is if you delve down into anything like that, it can take something away from the magic if you see what I mean. You have it quite strongly.

But it’s lovely. The squareness in your palm is lovely. So this again is very earthy. You kind of need things to be in the right place.

Okay… okay… What I do see in your hand, yeah, it’s quite; there are lots of mystical crosses there on your hand, so, yeah-even mediumship actually. Have you ever had a psychic experience of mediumship or woke up and saw someone sitting there or felt as if someone was talking to you or… because you do feel to me that you’ve got one foot in this world, and one foot, you know, in another?

Your heart line has doubled in early childhood, which almost…it’s as if… god, yeah… you see; this is your heart line? Can you see the way the lines are so much more intense and complicated here? That’s saying to me life has been very intense for you. Very intense. I’d say that your whole life has been an emotional roller coaster. There’s been a pulling and pushing… not particularly great for you. All this terrible trauma not so long ago going on here. Look. See all that line complication over and over again there? But, all your energies are like; it’s like out of the ashes, you know? It doesn't really matter what you’ve been through; you carry on. You seem to keep going and it’s quite admirable.

You just make me think of Phoenix rising love. Okay?

Extract from the screenplay ‘Push Me Away’

By John Ivy Malone.

EXT. 2012 PLATFORM TO A SMALL RAILWAY STATION

John stands, waiting for a train. The train indicator displays ‘NEXT TRAIN APPROACHING’. John notes it. He looks up and down. There are a few other people waiting. A train pulls in.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME. JESSICA EAGLEWOOD’S HOME OFFICE

The flipping through of a fashion magazine, a going over of a reporters note pad, the zipping of a make-up case, a fastening of buckles of another box, which finishes with a heavy click. Jessica checks over her battery charger. She’s a professional. She wants to be sure she’s got everything ready for tomorrow morning.

INT. MOVING TRAIN CARRIAGE

The coach is sparsely populated. John is sat on one of the side rows. He’s careful to fix his earphones without disturbing too much the sides of his foppish hair. He searches his mobile phone for something to listen to. Two teenage girls sit opposite. They’re laughing at some pictures they’re sharing on their phones. They’re pretty and when they’re not looking over at him, John looks at them.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, JESSICA EAGLEWOOD’S HOME OFFICE

JESSICA

(To the dog)

Oscar? Are you hungry? Do you want some food?

Oscar immediately leaps from his bed excitedly. Circling Jessica the way delighted dogs do.

EXT: LONDON WATERLOO STATION

John makes his way through the barrier. He heads to the underground, walking down the escalator toward the Northern line. A woman not standing on the right bars his way.

JOHN

(As if to say ‘get out of my way’)

Excuse me.

WOMAN

(Politely)

Sorry.

INT. DUSK. THE EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, KITCHEN

Oscar is eating greedily from his large old-fashioned bowl. Jessica is doing some washing up.

EXT. LONDON WATERLOO STATION, NORTHERN LINE

John boards a busy tube. He has to stand. The doors bleep and making that distinctive sound, slide shut on him.

EXT. SOHO. NIGHT. NARROW STREET

John arrives at a dive bar called the ‘Candlelight Club’. He looks in the window and acknowledges a table. He doesn’t go in immediately, instead withdrawing a pack of cigarettes. He lights one with a fancy 1920s looking silver lighter and turns his back to the window. Smoking alone.

INT. DARK OUTSIDE. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, KITCHEN

Jessica is preparing a meal. It’s healthy. Oriental. Vegetables, fish, miso soup. Oscar is at her feet, looking up, hopeful of any falling scraps, only Jessica is too proficient and hygiene-conscious a cook for that.

INT. CANDLELIGHT CLUB

It’s a joint. There are rock people, young and middle-aged about. John is sitting at a round table with a group of mates. Drinks are flowing and he’s laughing, smiling, holding court.

JOHN

So the guy hands me the bill. An’ he says –

(Putting on a mock foreign accent)

This is for your room, this is your bar bill, and this … Err, this is extras.

Extras? I says. Yes extras.

Oh right – So I go – it was like, 300 euros to clean up that room!

JOHN

(Continues)

Then as I’m leaving, he’s like, Mr. Eaglewood, last week we had that singer, the Amy lady staying this hotel.

I says to him, You did? Really?

Yeah, he says. Honestly, you much more bad than her!

The table erupts in laughter.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, LIVING ROOM

Alone, Jessica sits cross-legged on the floor at a low table. Her dinner is laid out on a tray in front of her. She’s eating while watching TV, Oscar begging dolefully at her side.

INT. CANDLELIGHT CLUB

The bar doors open and JULIA LANGLEY accompanied by her friend and journalist, ERIC MOTTRAM enter. There is an all-round welcoming from the table. Except for John, who looks awkwardly away. He doesn’t see Julia flash him an unfavorable side-glance acknowledgement of at least his presence. Instead, John gets up from the table and brushing past as if she weren’t there, goes outside alone for a cigarette.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, HALLWAY

Jessica is putting on Oscar’s harness.

JESSICA

Good boy. Come on then, let’s go to the park.

She closes the front door behind Oscar and her, leaving the house silent and empty.

INT. CANDLELIGHT CLUB

The clock reads 11.20 at night. The bar is much busier than before. John has moved over to another table of people. Julia Langley is sat where he was before. John’s considerably drunk by now, talking to KATY, a blonde lady in her late twenties to early thirties. He goes for his wallet but its empty.

JOHN

(Above the din)

Think I might head out to the cash point.

KATY

I’ll get you one. What do you want? The same?

JOHN

Actually it’s my birthday.

KATY

Your birthday? No.

KATY

(Continuing)

Is it? … Really?

JOHN

I didn’t want to tell anyone. But now since I’ve run out of money –

KATY

(Getting up and publicly announcing)

Hey, guess what? It’s Mr. E’s birthday!

There’s shouts and applause from everyone including the bar staff. Julia has a strange look about her. Before looking away into the wall, like the Mona Lisa, she either smiles or frowns.

BARMAID

(Shouts)

What we getting you birthday boy?

Katy takes John by the arm and leads him to the bar. Through his drunken haze, he looks momentarily embarrassed. The barmaid lines up a row of shots.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, MAIN BATHROOM

Jessica is in her pajamas and finishes brushing her teeth. She pulls the cord and the light goes out.

INT. THE CANDLELIGHT BAR, TOILET

In a tiny cubicle, from off the white surface of the basin, John and two others share a line of cocaine. One of them, having snorted, hands the rolled bank note to John, which he inserts in his nostril, burying his head.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, STAIRWELL

Jessica and Oscar climb the stairs to the bedroom at the top.

EXT. OUTSIDE THE CANDLELIGHT CLUB

John Eaglewood is haplessly helping bundle Katy into a taxi. People are out on the street, noisy, drunk, smoking, gabbing about where to go next or how best to head home.

JOHN

Let me know when you get home safe.

KATY

Will text you. Happy birthday. See you soon.

John shuts the cab door and smiles miserably. He turns and heads back inside.

INT. THE EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, BEDROOM, DARK

Jessica is in bed. Oscar is asleep close at her side, John’s side left vacant.

INT. CANDLELIGHT CLUB

John is back at his original table. Some faces are the same. Some are new. Julia comes over and puts down some drinks. Goes back to the bar and returns with more. She sits down. There wasn’t one for John. He gets up and goes over to buy his own.

BARMAID

(Ruefully)

It’s on the house.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, BEDROOM, DARK

Jessica wakes in her bed. She rolls over to the right. John is not there. She gets up to go to the en suite toilet. It flushes. She comes out and gets back in bed, taking her mobile phone from the bedside table; the time reads 3.36 am. She checks but there’s no text from John. Oscar is asleep, shuddering and dreaming nosily. Jessica stares up into the ceiling. After a while she turns on her side and closes her eyes to sleep.

INT. CANDLELIGHT CLUB

The clock reads 4.40 am. The shutters are up. Music is on, but at a much reduced volume. It’s a lock in, so it’s only a few regulars dotted about. There’s a table at the back of about 5 people. Julia Langley and John Eaglewood included. They’re sat next to each other but not close. Smoking inside now. A fan whirs overhead.

JOHN

(Completely out of it.)

Telling you, my letters, my heart locket.

I wan’ em back.

Julia drags on a cigarette. She smiles nervously.

JULIA

I told you before. I destroyed the letters when you already asked, so you’ve no worries there.

JOHN

Viper.

Some concerned looks come from across the table.

(Continues into his drink.)

I was just chewing gum to you. Once the flavour’d gone…you spat me out… Took me in… Led me on … I want my heart back. My fuckin’ locket… and those letters…

JULIA

I just told–

ONE OF THE GROUP

What’s up? Is he okay?

Julia let’s off a slightly nervous giggle and shrugs her shoulders.

JULIA

He’s had too much to drink.

JOHN

I wan’ em back. Give it me or I’ll fucking expose you.

ANOTHER OF THE GROUP

Hey! John? Christ sake. It's Julia. Ease up, will you?

Julia shakes her head defensively, before bursting into a louder, longer giggle that’s next door to laughing at him.

JULIA

(Shaking her head)

So ridiculous.

INT. MORNING. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, LIVING ROOM

Jessica is up. Ready for work, bags and gear surround her. But she’s wearing a very worried look. She’s phoning John. It’s ringing but there’s no answer. The front door bell sounds.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S HOME, HALLWAY

Jessica comes from the living room and hurries to answer the door.

MAN AT DOOR

Good morning. Taxi for Mrs. Eaglewood?

JESSICA

(Deflated)

Oh … yes. I’ll be right with you.

Extract from Audrey Hill’s Diary

Sunday 29th January 2012

Jessica telephoned this morning to say that John didn’t come home last night. Heaven knows why? What was he doing out on his own on his birthday? It’s not as if we all don’t already know what a pathetic binge drinker my daughter’s husband is but as for going off on a bender, in all fairness to her, however drunk, I admit it is a trifle unlike him not to somehow find his way home. Jess is in a bit of a fret over it understandably. Still, I told her not to worry too much and asked her to call me when he eventually turns up. Probably from whatever squalid floor he found himself hung-over on.

Extract from the screenplay ‘Push Me Away’

By John Ivy Malone

INT. DAY. 2012. AN OFFICE.

The place is a mess. From somewhere a mobile is phone is ringing. There’s four desks with computer terminals, clothes strewn over the floor, half a mug of coffee gone cold, its milk filmy and congealed. An ash tray, seated with butts, one or two of them strayed, a wallet, a discarded jacket slung over a chair, a pair of boots on their side. The phone cuts out. The lit up message indicating, Jessica: 5 missed calls. Crashed out, John is asleep on a small sofa. The mobile phone screen goes blank.

Tess Donlevie’s Reading of John Eaglewood’s Tarot Cards

Tape recording. Date unknown. Estimated January 2012

TD: Okay, let’s have a look here. This card here, the magician, is like self-empowerment. You’re not a Scorpio are you? What’s your star sign?

JE: Aquarius.

TD: Aquarius…okay. Well, there’s a very scorpionic feel. Do you know what I mean? Are you familiar with the star signs?

JE: Not particularly.

Pause.

TD: I’ve got a woman in your life. She’s hugely important. Except there is a barrier and a coldness. You’re still not quite trusting in this woman though… it’s like a massive tug of war. Someone’s playing – it’s like a psychological game, it’s a tug of war. One minute they need you and the next they’re keeping you at arms length.

As it stands, I can see you’re hitting an all time low. Your confidence is way down, way below zero. You’re just thinking; what the hell is it all about? You’re just thinking; what’s the point in all of it, you know? You’re really getting all a bit dark. The thing is, it sounds awful, it sounds frightening but weakness is a chance. All those clichés, but it's a real chance. You sometimes have to go down, you sometimes have to stir the glass and see how dirty the water really is and all the dirt rises up before you can think about cleaning it and sorting it and what you want to go on to. It’s a bit ‘Dark Knight of the soul’ that card, it’s very… um, you know, ‘I’m introspecting, I’m looking back, I’m dwelling on things, I’m going within. I want to be on my own and think about things.’

It’s kind of all within and very miserable, but you’ll come out of it. It feels like a long struggle, but by some Spring over the Autumn you’ll come out of it. But for now accept that some part of your life is stuck. Stagnant.

And this here is letting go of hope. Of nostalgia. Letting go of looking back over the past. Something like that. So it’s all – your reading is more about internal stuff than actual events. A lot of people’s readings are like – new house, new job, you know, baby coming along, da, da, da, whatever – yours is all about inner changes, completely.

But the age of swords is – it’s like almost giving up. ‘I’ve had enough. I’m… I’m just… I don’t feel confident. I don’t feel happy.’ But then, what’s really interesting here is the Karma card. And this is absolute transformation. So as much as that looks horrible, it doesn’t look very pleasant, look at this, look at the light shining through, going, wow, well, in that case, transform. Change. You’ve got… Yeah I would say there’s quite a good degree of… intuition showing up in your cards. It’s quite, there’s lots of… yeah, even… It’s like you’re a very old soul. Have you ever had an… I don’t know, like an out of body experience or anything like that? No? Well, yeah, you’ve got the power.

Remember the magician in your heart of heart’s desire. ‘I want to be the magician, I want to feel my own power and go and do what I really must do!’ So it’s really just about you travelling, going somewhere else, about spending a long time away. A long contemplation.

All right love?

[1842]

Extract from the screenplay ‘Push Me Away’

By John Ivy Malone

INT: DECEMBER 1842. THE PARSONAGE, BRANWELL’S ROOM

The room is dark, the curtains drawn. BRANWELL BRONTË’S writing desk, artist’s easel, papers and paintings are stacked and stood. A copy of Blackwood’s magazine lies at the side of the bed where Branwell sits. He leans over his bedside table. A lighted candle sits there, flickering in the gloom, crafting dancing shadows on the wall behind him. Beside a bottle of liquor is a smaller amber dropper-bottle, marked ‘laudanum’ and POSION typed on the white label. A silver knife-like implement bridges a brandy glass, half-full, on which a lump of sugar is balanced. Over the sugar lump Branwell holds a pipette, squeezing a few drops on to the sugar. Striking a match, he sets fire to the liquor. It’s ritualistic. The sugar caramelises and drops into the glass below. The little flame splutters and expires. Branwell knocks back the drink in one and rolls over on the bed on his back. His eyes close, his arm flopping over the side of the bed as the empty brandy glass spools onto the floor from his limp hand.

[2012]

EXT. DAY. 2012. OFFICE CAR PARK

Having locked up the office, John Eaglewood walks gingerly to his car. It’s a regular saloon.

INT. EAGLEWOOD’S CAR

John reaches for the glove compartment. Takes out a piece of paper. Unfolds it. From inside his jacket he pulls out his mobile