Film script "Ring the Bells" CHAPTER 1 BORN OF FRUSTRATION

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Film script "Ring the Bells" CHAPTER 1 BORN OF FRUSTRATION

Postby Dermot Finnigan 1010 » Tue Jul 12, 2011 8:41 am

RING THE BELLS.
CHAPTER 1
BORN OF FRUSTRATION

Sadly the thought of dying appealed to me for a while and but only for the kids I think I would of have entertained it for a while longer. I was right on the edge, coupled with the desire to really hurt someone, no kill someone; I was in a bad way. I wanted to pay them back, an eye for eye and all that bullshit, it just was not fair, and it went extreme.
It was one major thing after another, just piling up like the stack of files in a long and bitter court battle. There was a life here and it was mine. I was a nice guy and I did not ever think I would end up been so bitter and twisted. My mind was twisted, my body was twisted and my life was twisted too. I had to do something about it. The regular swimming and sweating in steam rooms and saunas was the first positive thing I did for myself in a long time.
My excuse at the time was that I needed to be reasonably fit to cope with the daily trauma’s that were engulfing my life. Sweating for god’s sake had dominated my bloody life. Every major event I could remember from been a child to individual moments of stress or challenge resulted in me swimming in sweat. I mean just like Lee Evans, I kid you not, I was drowning within seconds.
My own wedding, Jacqui’s wedding and Naomi’s christening, any hot day, or any public gathering it would just pour out of me. I took my mum to mass recently and she sent me out before communion with sweat dripping onto my collar, she’s 90 for god’s sake and I was there to look after her. I thought when in the sauna or steam room I was getting rid of it and that’s how I was managing the problem. It was a problem throughout my life and it drove me crazy.
Jacqui I suspect on behalf of all three of my wonderful children sent me to see a local psychiatrist, a lovely lady called Wendy who was a great comfort when she agreed with everything I told her. I had become entrenched with my own problems and was sadly oblivious to the love and concern the kids had for me and I regularly ignored their pleas to stop.
I had love right there in front of me but failed to recognise it and accept it and just concede, I would just not let go and give in. Wendy, bless her, kindly gave me an emergency telephone number and I had rang her recently and she said “yes carry on with what you’re doing, there are loads of good people out there for you to enjoy the rest of your life with, good luck Dermot, you deserve it”.
The frustration was I had not been very successful without, to be honest, trying too hard, in meeting anyone. I just did not know how to do it. My confidence was low, never there, in fact I had discovered I never had any in the first place and I had to start from scratch.
I quickly learnt when I was feeling what I thought to be confident I did not sweat, and I put myself to the test regularly and yes the results were consistent. Any kind of pressure or challenge and I started leaking sauna or not. Wendy was good, very good, but truth be told very expensive. Although she did it initially for Jacqui, as they were friends, I could not abuse her professionalism by not paying. Nobody I though knew me better than me and I always came through by the skin of my teeth and was renowned as the hard one of the family.
Here I was now in self therapy, car dancing, miming the words and howling to some great tracks, and day dreaming of what life could be like with love songs from the Manchester band “James”. Loyalty was important to me in every aspect yet it was a one way street now for me and I felt very lonely with no one to be loyal to except me, no one to love, but me, with no one loving me, and it hurt like hell for a long time but I was now on the road to recovery, I think.
Self-therapy was not only a lot cheaper but accessible 24/7 and music played a huge part. I had always listened to James but now for the first time intently to the lyrics and related them exclusively to my own situation, and it worked.
It was apparent that I could not reach what I wanted on my own, and the same was true with a wife of 34 years. I did not want much from my life. To be loved and to love would have been just fine.
Everything I ever wanted, everything I ever worked for, and everything I ever had was taken from me in one way or another and life was now one big head darn and fight to save myself.
I wasn’t mad, it was worse than that, I was wild with rage and anger and could not believe it was possible to happen, my life just fell apart, and the more I tried to deal with it the harder it became, even my god had deserted me.
I had lost control in every aspect of my life and at times real fear and blind panic set in and I would shut down and day dream all day and night just for a few moments’ relief, for the slightest touch of happiness for my heart and soul.
I had lost my wife to alcohol. I lost my house and home to National Grid and their new 400,000 volt power line and pylon. I lost my business and health to a leaking bladder and my mind just collapsed.
I was not going to get Janet back; she was now gone for good, sober thank god but as a complete stranger. I was not going to get back my house and home either, it was blighted and sterilised in the extreme from the affects of 400,000 volts and still had not sold after over 100 viewings and my business folded on the advice of my bladder consultant.
To love and be loved was the answer; it always was and always will be. I needed to love and be loved, it sounded so simple yet this was what life is about for me and it was going to be the biggest challenge of all.
The problem that I tried to explain to Wendy and anyone else that would listen was so simple to me: it was just not fair. It was not my fault but I had to defend myself from every punch that landed with an assortment of tools. I knew no other way, but I was still standing and I was still doing it, but now at last it was for me, and I was slowly beginning to enjoy life a little.
Frustration was not quite the right word but was as close as I could get and I was satisfied with the challenge before me. Find some confidence and self belief from somewhere and get rid of this madness that has dogged me for years and try and get back some kind of life.
Car dancing as strange as it may sound was a great contributor to my self-therapy in a car that I dearly loved, a car that played a major role in keeping things together for me. I never danced to James outside the car but it was now definitely part of the healing programme and on the agenda.
It was a beautiful sunny day when I left my Fairways at the usual time for my Sunday afternoon visit to the Marriot wearing the baseball cap and red t-shirt from New Zealand and China respectively from Sinead and Dermot jnr with my favourite ray ban glasses picked out by Jacqui hanging off the end of my nose.

The beast (the kids christened the car) was cruising with ease down the M56 towards Hale for my swim, steam, sauna, shave and coffee before watching football in the Caters Arms with my new friends. I was car dancing, miming and howling along to James’s Born of Frustration. Singing along where and when I knew the words and changing the lyrics to suit my current mood and situation now knowing how important this was to me.

This was keeping me sane, drive dancing with the slightest movement of my shoulders and upper body attached to the steering wheel with my two arms, miming the words to the track as we pasted the M56. The beast had become my own Bridgewater Hall when I needed a stage to perform on.

I had lost a serious amount of weight and I had treated myself to a whole new wardrobe and I looked pretty good with family and friends noticing the change, in appearance anyway. It gave me some confidence which was in itself was a new experience for me and it spurred me on with the realisation I had a lot to do and I was on my own with James and the beast.

I did not have the appetite or the desire to just lie down and give up and take to my bed. I did go close though; in fact, I hit the bar when it came to drinking. I was determined not to taken by the demon drink with the exercise in the pool proving vital in dealing with the daily dramas with more than a few pints. Trips to the pub were therapeutic; they had to be, for it to be anything else would be a disaster for I had seen it all when it came to the demon taking someone.

I was getting old and had to work very hard to enable me to continue at such a pace. I tested myself there too, and was happy that I was not an alcoholic but I did like a drink, yes too much possibly, and sometimes it became a nuisance, but without it to be honest I would have died.

I greeted the leisure club staff with the usual polite Sunday morning greetings and took my key and code before heading off to the changing rooms. I took the Express off the paper rack on the way in and checked to see United were still dominating the back pages. I casually got changed and showered before entering the pool.
It was quite this time on a Sunday afternoon with most normal families having lunch together somewhere nice so this time suiting me down to the ground. I was not a great swimmer but got up and down the pool without too much trouble. I used the sport to relax as well as rigorous (for me anyway) exercise and it worked.
Three or four trips a week religiously now for a couple of years. Swim first for half an hour, before entering the steam and sauna for another half an hour of deliberate sweating and I always felt tons better after finishing off in the cold plunge for a couple of minutes.
Losing weight had also given me some confidence (I think) but I was still going through life in a day-to-day manic daydream of what might be, and the only way I could get through the bloody day was by howling, miming and acting out a musical charade in the beast with Tim Booth at the wheel.
I always kept an eye on the clock as I swam and it was five to one when she sent fragent ripples through the water as she walked slowly into the pool. She had stopped and stood on the top step for a few moments and threw her head forward for a mass of black hair to cover her face for her to then throw it immediately back to catch it with both hands to bunch it up and tie with a clip.
Such beauty and sex appeal should not be allowed on public display I thought, what a lovely body, sheer class was spilling all over the pool, there right in front of me. She’s bloody gorgeous I said to myself. I stopped swimming for a while just to stare, couldn’t help it. I was not the least embarrassed as I stood quite still in the water hands on hips staring.
She caught me admiring her and clinically shot me dead with a brilliant smile. She dipped her head back into the water and with another smile treated the ceiling before swimming away from me freestyle with some ease but with no great stroke to admire.
The only thing now on display and to admire was her perfectly formed bottom as it glided along the top of the water as she moved up and down the pool. My jaw dropped that much that I nearly drowned, too late to smile back with her head now treating the water with her beauty.
I suspect she knew I was watching and she was kind of posing and teasing me a little when she stopped at the end of the length to adjust her goggles. I enjoyed the moment and smiled, she definitely saw me this time and teased a little bit more by ignoring me.
It was ten past one and I had done my half hour in the pool and moved into the steam room with one eye left in the pool. No sooner had I sat down the door opened in a rush and she arrived sitting down opposite me. This time it was easy to hit the target with a smile without any sense of discomfort, and she smiled back.
My god I thought that was quick, she wasn’t in the water that long, she must be in a rush, or perhaps in a hurry to speak with me. There was no one else in the steam room so using the steam as my cover I admired her some more. It was pouring out of me now but hey it’s ok, that’s what happens in steam rooms and I was quite calm.
She had removed her clip letting her hair hang wet and bedraggled over her chiselled tanned face and onto a light blue one piece swim suit. This lady had a simple classy style which was complimented with her magnificently proportioned body with beautifully formed breasts which to be honest I could not take my two eyes off.
Not sure if I still had the protection from the steam so I tried with some difficulty to change my focus away from her breasts onto her magnificent face with her huge blue eyes. We were quite close now and I thought wow where did this lady come from?
Plucking up some of my long lost courage with the comfort of the protective steam and natural sweat I said “it’s nice here when it’s quite”, she responded quite quickly, “Yes, I love it here, I love swimming”. I was pleased with my newfound confident approach and decided to continue. “Are you a member here, I haven’t seen you before” “Yes, I joined last week and I live in Timperley with my two boys and have lived here for the last six years since my divorce”. I quickly took a glance down to see she still had two rings on her wedding finger.
“I am going through a divorce as we speak I said and it’s here that I find the time to chill out and relax, and there is no where better when it’s quite, I love it too”. I said.
That was it; she was off like a steam train with her own confidence sky high she nearly cleared the room as she spoke.
She set out her opinion on what I should do and not do in the minefield of divorce. She lifted both her knees as she spoke (did she see me lust for her breasts) and gave me some examples of her friends that had lost everything because of a divorce.
She gave me sound advice about selling the house, be selfish, look after yourself, be aware of the financial ramifications, enjoy your new independence, enjoy your own space, and don’t trust anyone connected or close to your ex, then suddenly introduced herself as Marie.
She took a deep breath and gave me time to respond.
Hi Marie, it’s Dermot.
I gave her my right hand which was met with a smile to simply adore and die for. I could not catch my breath for a second, she just blew me away.
She continued nice and relaxed with the same theme, pay for someone to come to the house, here is the washing basket, here is the washing machine, there is the ironing board over here, these are the wardrobes, clean the house a couple days a week, give them a key, pay them, that’s all it takes.
“That’s what I did Dermot and you should do the same”. Advice conveyed in a surprising lovely caring and authoritative manner. I responded by agreeing with everything she said.
The discussion continued in a friendly tutor/pupil type manner with no malice to any ex partner, which I thought was nice. “I want a change,” she suddenly said jumping up and heading for the sauna with the invitation to join her to talk more; I said “ok that will be great” and she left.
I needed to catch my breath again, I was sweating profusely after twenty five minutes in the steam without rest bite and she had literally taken my breath away twice now. I waited a few minutes before heading to the cold plunge to recover; I spent my two minutes in the cold plunge and headed for more of Marie in the sauna.
She was perched on the top level next to the door this time, her legs crossed with her smile still intact. The sauna was busy with other punters, male and female, with some of them already admiring the new member. I found it uncomfortable to talk with people clearly listening to ever word and I quickly lost my confidence.
I sat down directly opposite her on the lower level for a few moments looking up at her and quickly decided to take my leave. “Can I thank you for that, I really enjoyed it and I hope to see you again soon”, “it was a pleasure, take care Dermot” she said and I opened the door in a bit of a rush to get out.
Why on god’s earth did you do that you jerk, as I closed the door on her, go back and speak to her, you bloody fool, she was talking to you no one else, she is stunning and you just walked away.
I returned to the cold plunge for a second two minutes to finally cool off before leaving. I picked up my towel and made my way to the changing rooms, head down sulking like a spoilt child who wanted to stay in the pool a bit longer when I suddenly sensed someone behind me as I came to the male exit.
I quickly turned and much to my surprise it was Marie stood right behind me, this time she was looking up at me. I said “thank you” again and without giving myself the chance to change my mind I asked her would she be able to join me for a coffee dry side before she heads for home and was staggered when she agreed to meet me some 20 minutes later in the hotel coffee bar.
My confidence returned in a rush as I bounced into the changing rooms to quickly shower and dress. I arrived first. Marie arrived a few minutes later dressed in flip flops, casual blue slacks, a lovely dark red loose top with a white wrap around scarf, her hair was still wet and loose, she was truly beautiful, naturally beautiful, no makeup, still wearing that smile, no lipstick, great white teeth were one of many focal points on display. I could clearly see without steam or sweat that she was nothing more than perfect.
It was strange but exciting, my only concern now was that I really did not want to blow this; I had met a stunningly beautiful woman and I was communicating with her.
She put me at immediate ease as I ordered lattes from the lovely girls behind the bar before she carried on where she left off wet side with more of her sound advice on how to start a new life before it’s too late with “Dermot do things that you always wanted to”
. She surprised me with a sudden “How old are you Dermot” “55” I answered without thinking and immediately wanting to get off the subject of age so I took the plunge to carry on and asked if she had met anyone else since her divorce. “No Dermot, not anyone worthy of a second date as yet, and anyway I am very busy bringing up my two boys”. I decided not to ask her age but I guessed at around 45.
Make hay whilst the sun shines, I must keep going so I admired her top; I always loved ladies fashion, and it gave me a little more confidence to engage her with a subject close to my heart. I had always enjoyed buying my mum and Janet clothes over the years and they both agreed I had good taste. “Vivian Westwood”, she said, “I adore her clothes and wear them as often as I can and afford”.
The conversation then continued on nicely with empty cups and was not too heavy but still centred on me and what I should do and not do; she seemed to be enjoying doling out her personal advice.
Marie was clearly in control sat up so straight in the chair you would guess she was a trained model. Time sadly past too quickly and she motioned to get up to go, “I enjoyed that she said but I must be off”. Get her number, you bloody fool, get her number, and don’t blow it again. She seemed to delay for a second, was it for me.
“Marie can I have your number please, it would be great to meet up again if you would like to, your advice, time and company was just great and I would love to keep in touch” “Ok” she said and we professionally exchanged numbers.
Suddenly I could not get my breath again for a few seconds, at least this woman was consistent, and I was now struggling and delayed without any comment from Marie
“Marie I know I have just met you and I loved listening to you but I hope you don’t mind but I would like to get your advice on a lady I have met”
“Great, I’ll be here same time next week when you can tell me all about her, take care Dermot and give me a ring if you feel like it”.
I admired her again this time from behind as she left with the walk of a super model and without fear of been shot and decided she looked as good from the back as she did from the front with an arse to match her smile, perfect.
♫ Was I born with all this frustration?
I can't meet all my needs, without,
Strange conversation my,
Self-control has just expired,
Was it an illusion or,
Only in my head did you exist,
Who am I fooling? ♫
Don't need the lovely Wendy; I need a bloody exorcist,
Show me the movie of who you are and where you're from,
Were you born with this frustration?
Why and where is all the confusion?
♫A vision of what life is like for me,
Why was it me that always took the blame?
Stop all this talking about who’s to blame,
When all that counts in how to change,
Get rid of this frustration,
All this frustration,
Born with frustration,
I'm living in a dream where nothing is the way it seems,
Where no one is who they need to be, ♫
Where nothing seems that real to me,
About time I changed my life to be built,
Upon the walls of love and solid ground,
The world is spinning' endlessly so, but
♫I’m clinging to my own beliefs, sadly
Born with this frustration.
Dermot Finnigan 1010
 
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Joined: Tue Jul 05, 2011 2:45 pm

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