Script - CH2 - 19-20

I thought I'd share some of the script with you an' all! This bit of the text is a draft for the pages 19-20. There's a good chance we'll still change bits and pieces, but here's the rough idea. Would you be interested in reading more of these in the future, before we get to the thumbnail stage?

For further clarity, as Rob's name hasn't been mentioned in the comic yet, Rob in the text is the policeman Georgie has a chat with on page 18.

“Hey, Anna!” shouted Georgie at the retreating pair, quickening her sloping pace to catch up. 

Anna paused mid-step and gritted her teeth. Of course Georgie would be here, she thought. Whenever there was a scene, there she would be, hanging around and making things, in her own little way, just that little bit worse. Rob was there too; the man who Georgie in her own words most definitely didn’t have a thing for despite all evidence to the contrary, so it seemed inevitable that Georgie wouldn’t be far away. Anna laid a hand on Jack’s arm and sighed.

“One moment, Jack,” she said, turning on her heel with a flash of a smile, “Hello, Georgie.”

Georgie strode up in the slouching, slightly meandering way that she always did and patted Alfie on the head to his great delight. Then, as absent-mindedly as she had taken it, she tossed the wallet to Anna.

“Alright,” she said with a wink, “I guess you saw all that, yeah? What a mess!”

“It’s horrible. We didn’t stay to look,” said Anna shortly, pausing while she decided whether to introduce the girl to her new companion or escape the conversation. In the end, propriety won out.

“Since when are you allowed out with a gentleman?” Asked Georgie.

“Very funny. Jack, this is Georgie. Georgie, Jack.”

The ginger girl sized Jack up and craned her neck theatrically, then grinned and gave Jack an exaggerate curtsy. 

“Alright, mister,” said Georgie, “New to the city and you already seen a body! Ain’t life exciting! You going to the Anchor, yeah?”

“No-..” started Anna.

“ ’Course you are,” said Georgie, “That’s just where I was going. Hey, Alfie, did you see all that b-…?”

“Georgie!” snapped Anna.

“Just sayin’,” continued Georgie, unabashed, “Poor darlin’ fell from the third floor. Splat, right on the cobbles. Right pissin’ messy.”

“Splat!” shouted Alfie, happily.

“See?” said Georgie, “He’s happy. I don’t know what you’re worried about. ‘Course, someone cut her throat on the way down. An ‘orrible murder, the papers’ll say.”

“’Orrible murder!” shouted Alfie.

“Alfie!” sighed Anna.