A man standing alone in a room, holding a gun to this head.
He is unkempt, wearing the trousers, shirt and tie of a plain utilitarian suit. The tie has been loosened, now hanging noose-like around his neck, top shirt button undone. On the chair behind him has been sprawled the suit jacket.

He pushes the gun against his head, turning it one way then another, feeling the circle of steel against his skin.

A phone rings.

Scene Two. Caption: 8 hours earlier.

The same man walks through a subway on his way to work, past a busker. The man is wearing a plain utilitarian suit and carries a small Lewisham gentleman's briefcase. He stands at a platform for a few moments before getting on the Central 16. He finds a seat and sits looking down at the ground.

Cut to:

The same man climbs up into an attic. A single bare cobwebbed 40 watt bulb casts a weak ghostly glow over a collection of large boxes. The man runs his hands over the boxes, displacing years of dust. He opens a box and draws out into the light a child's toy.

Cut to:

The same man sits in his office cubicle. He looks at the computer screen in front of him in turns intently then blankly. Slowly he reaches over to the desk organiser and tears away the paper slip with yesterday's date. For long moments he stares at today's slip. He leans forward, at first to tear off another slip, but finally just turns the desk organiser face down.

Cut to:

The same man sits at home surrounded by boxes. They are filled with blouses, dresses, toys. In one we can see a Le Mond jewellery box. As he opens another box we see inside a collection of home video tapes.

Cut to:

The same man sits in his office cubicle as the outside sky begins to turn dark. He pulls open a small draw full of stationary. From the very back of the draw, from behind a collection of size 13 staples, he pulls out a small key. Turning his chair to the right he now faces a series of metal cabinets. He unlocks the bottom drawer of the cabinet closest to him. It appears to be full of loose papers that have been dumped and forgotten. The man leans downward and lifts handfuls of papers out of the way until at the bottom of the drawer he sees the back of a picture frame - which he now slowly pulls clear. The man makes as if to turn the picture over, and we briefly catch a glimpse of a woman and two children smiling. The man stops himself and buries the picture frame back deep beneath the sea of papers, closes the drawer and locks it again.

Cut to:

The same man sits at home watching a video of a woman and two children. The man remembers a great lake and endless forests encircled by a mountainous horizon. He remembers the sunlight scrambling over the distant peaks, falling towards the lake and dancing upon the waves. He remembers a lodge, a restaurant, laughter and dancing. He remembers the feel of arms around him, deep green eyes. He remembers a band playing 'The Beach at Redpoint,' and he remembers a promise he made so long ago.

The man stands up with sudden purpose. He turns off the video and walks quickly toward the front door, picking up a long brown trench coat as he goes.

Cut to:

The same man has returned home. He drops his suit jacket over the back of a chair. He loosens his tie and undoes the top shirt button. From a small metal case he lifts an old Swynnerton 48 handgun.

He pushes the gun against his head, turning it one way then another, feeling the circle of steel against his skin.

Cut to:

The same man, wearing a long brown trench coat, walks through a subway. He stops by the busker.
"Do you know 'The Beach at Redpoint'?" He asks.
The busker nods. The man flicks out a mobile phone, presses a button on it and slides a banknote into the busker's pocket. We hear the phone quick-dialling a number as the man places it down on the ground next to the busker.

The man turns from the subway and walks out into the light.