Vesna McMaster – Moving

‘I found it very moving.’

‘I’m surprised you managed to get to the end. Seven hours long? Did you take breaks in between?’

‘Not that much.’

‘I get antsy if a film goes over fifty minutes. Star yelling “Edits! Ever heard of edits?” at the screen.’

‘Aaah. Yes.’

‘So was it in Hungarian? Or was it just made in Hungary?’

He opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by a sharp yelp from the dog. They start and turn to look at her. She is spinning round anxiously, as if chasing her tail, but snapping at the air behind her as if someone was goading her.

‘The dog’s lost it.’

‘It’s a bit chilly today, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah. I didn’t notice it before.’ He starts easing his sleeves back into his jacket, which he’d shrugged off earlier. He sniffed the air. ‘Funny smell. A bit earthy.’

‘Hmm. Yeah.’

The dog gives a final nervous whine and pushes out into the garden through her dog-flap. A thick cloud rolls over the view through the skylight, obliterating the blue.

‘Anyway, could we go through the edits on this piece, please? I’ve written it up in red.’

He peers at the paper. ‘I can barely see, it’s so dark all of a sudden. Can we have the light on?’

She reaches for the switch, and as her fingers make contact, a crackle of electricity and a ‘POP!’ precipitate a universal extinguishing of clocks, LEDs, and a shut-down shudder from the fridge.

‘Whoa.’

Thunder rumbles outside.

‘Well that was unexpected.’

He peers back at the page. Outside, the dog starts to howl.

‘Just a minute. I’ll go and check the fuses.’ The sound of her footsteps tap down the stars and towards the garage. Suddenly they stop.

‘David.’

‘Yeah?’ He’s still trying to make out the comments on the script.

‘David!’

‘What?’

‘What did you say that film was about?’

‘What?’

‘The film. The seven hour one.’

‘Oh. It’s a bit esoteric. About a haunting. Continental vampires. Possessions. That sort of thing.’

‘Yeah. About that. There’s someone at the door.’