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VINCENT: This is where the wealthy and the powerful rule.

It is her world, a world apart from mine.

Her name...is Catherine.

From the moment I saw her, she captured my heart...

with her beauty,

her warmth and her courage.

I knew then, as I know now,

she would change my life... forever.

CATHERINE: He comes from a secret place, far below the city streets.

Hiding his face from strangers, safe from hate and harm.

He brought me there to save my life.

And now, wherever I go,

he is with me in spirit.

For we have a bond stronger than friendship or love.

And although we cannot be together,

we will never, ever be apart.

♪ ♪

(shower running, doorbell rings)

CATHERINE: I'm coming!

KID: Trick or treat!

Trick or treat! Trick or treat!

(kids giggling)

Trick or treat!

Trick or treat.

Don't you all look just great.

Happy Halloween.

Thank you. Thank you! Thanks.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Dad. Hi.

Am I early, are you late, or is that your costume?

Oh, I'm late. I'm sorry, Dad.

I lost track of time at the office.

Well, you never use to lose track of time

when you worked for me. Oh, sure I did.

Every morning.

If you could just hold the trick-or-treaters at bay,

I'm sure I can get dressed in time to arrive fashionably late.

Likely story.

I figure about an hour and a half.

Oh, that was the old Cathy.

John always kept a light burning in his window by night,

so that Deirdre might find her way back to him.

And in the deepest part of winter,

when the snows lay thick

against the walls of his cottage

and the cold wind came shrieking from the north,

John would take down his bow

and he would walk through the forest, calling her name,

until his voice was hoarse

and the tears froze hard on his face.

But she never answered.

And, until his dying day,

John never saw her again.

CHILD: Oh! That was so sad.

CHILD 2: Yeah. CHILD 3: Great story.

That was a good one.

Tell us another one, Father.

The one about the Headless Horseman.

Yeah, tell us that one. Oh, my favorite.

Yes, please.

You had enough ghosts for one night. Please.

Now, go on. Please. Come on.

Mary wants some help to carve up more jack-o-lanterns.

Oh, yeah! That'll be fun.

I have a great idea. I get to use the knife.

GIRL: No, I asked for it.

Every year, they ask for the same stories.

By now, they must know them better than you do.

(chuckles)

Well, you know, old stories are rather like old friends.

Every so often, you have to drop in on them again,

just to see how they're doing.

And anyway, I can remember a certain young boy

who would never let a mere jack-o-lantern

deny him a visit to Ichabod Crane.

(chuckles)

You're still determined to go, are you?

I wish you'd reconsider.

Father, surely on this night of all nights,

I can walk among them in safety.

Safety, Vincent?

There is no safety up there.

For you or anyone else.

Well...

sometimes, we must leave our safe places, Father,

and walk empty-handed among our enemies.

Those are Brigit O'Donnell's words.

Those are true words.

Words that have opened doors for me,

let some light in on the dark places.

You know what she's meant to me.

I do.

And I also know

there's a danger of confusing the magic with the magician.

Sometimes the person is smaller than the work.

Weaker, more frightened, more human.

And I don't want to see you hurt, disappointed.

She will not disappoint me.

Our lives are very different,

and yet, I'm sure we'll understand each other.

I will not lose this opportunity.

I must see her, talk to her.

Well, go on, then, if you're set on it.

Obviously, there's nothing I can do to stop you.

Vincent...

Be careful.

(kisses)

Don't worry.

Whoa. Well, hardly 15 minutes...

but well worth waiting for.

Isn't it wonderful.

Oh, you don't know how happy I am

that you let me talk you into this.

Since you left the firm, I hardly ever get to see you.

Well, they keep me pretty busy.

But I've missed you too.

Now, don't be shy about leaving me to fend for myself.

I'm not so old that I don't remember

how romantic these affairs can be.

A lot of your old friends are going to be there tonight.

Well, I'm going to this party to be with you.

You're going to this party to meet Brigit O'Donnell,

just like everybody else.

That too.

Have I told you how beautiful you look?

Sometimes you remind me so much of your mother.

I miss her too.

Well, someday, you'll find someone you can love

as much as I loved your mother.

We were two of the lucky ones.

I have my memories...

and I have you.

You sure do.

Sorry, I'm closed.

Now, listen, I must have a costume.

And if it's money you want, I've got it.

Come on. You come

back, you can have your pick.

Jesse James, Darth Vader, King Arthur, whatever you want.

But closing time on Halloween night?

All right.

All right, I'll see what there is in the back.

You don't mind maybe a little frayed, a button missing?

It doesn't matter; just hurry up.

Here, maybe this will fit.

Now, what the hell's this?

Are you having a bit of fun with me, or something?

Is that your game?

Now get that damnable rag out of my sight

and find something decent.

Here...here...

It's too big?

Well, there's nothing else.

If that doesn't suit you, then take your business elsewhere.

This will do rightly.

The changing booth is there.

(playing mellow jazz)

(people laughing)

(speaks indistinctly)

BUTLER: Good evening, sir.

MATADOR: Buenas noches.

Good evening.

Good evening. Good evening. Hi.

Champagne, Madame?

Sir?

BRENNAN: Charles, is that you?

Hi.

Surely not Cathy.

Hi, Mr. Brennan.

MARIE: Cathy!

CATHERINE: Marie?

You look wonderful.

You do, too.

Hi, Jeff.

Hi, Cath.

Did you meet Brigit yet?

No, I just arrived.

JEFF: She's a remarkable woman.

Jeff's taken a tremendous interest in her cause.

(laughing): I can imagine.

Uh, did you hear?

She sold that book 300 Days to Hollywood.

It's Romeo and Juliet with Irish accents.

Oh, come on now, that's a terrific story.

BRENNAN: Cathy.

I was going to introduce your father to Brigit.

Care to come along?

I'd love to.

MAN: It's a great party.

WOMAN: Oh, what fun.

(band finishes song, guests applaud)

(Irish accent): Hold up there.

Let's have a look here.

I'm terribly sorry, Charles.

Mr. Cavanaugh here is one of Brigit's bodyguards.

No offense, sir, but there have been threats.

Orangemen, Croppies.

Croppies, did he say?

I'm afraid I don't understand.

BRIGIT (Irish accent): No reason you should.

It's from an old war.

An Irish Catholic uprising

against the British and their Protestant allies.

The rebels had short-cropped hair, you see.

That was, what, 200 years ago?

(chuckling): That's a long time to remember a haircut.

We Irish have long memories.

My father taught me all the songs

about the brave Croppy boys when I was still in the cradle.

I stand instructed.

I'm afraid history was never my subject,

and most of what I did learn, I managed to forget.

Forgetting is a trick Ulster could stand to learn.

Charles, there's Samantha.

She'll never forgive me

if I don't take you over to say hello.

Duty beckons.

I like your mask.

(laughs)

I wrote a story

about an owl-woman once-- just a little fable for children.

Well, children of all ages.

I read it just last year, and I loved it.

Did you now?

Well, it's not easy to find, that one.

It was given to me by a friend,

a very special friend.

(sighing): You have a real gift.

I only wish you wrote more children's stories.

I wish I could,

but there are darker things than ghosts in Ireland now,

and you can't hear the fairy music for the gunfire.

I love the work.

For the first time in my life, I feel...

Catherine, what's wrong?

Nothing,

I just... thought I saw someone I know.

Would you excuse me?

Vincent.

(band strikes up lively jazz melody)

(whispering): Vincent.

(jazz playing, subway train passing)

(urgent whisper): Vincent.

(cork pops)

♪ ♪

Caviar, sir?

Caviar.

It's Beluga, sir.

From Russia...?

♪ ♪

(music ends, guests applaud)

What is it, Brigit?

Is it trouble?

Oh, no, Thomas.

It's all right.

Go on with you, now.

It's a party.

Not every man who is looking at me

is wanting to lay me in my grave.

Brigit O'Donnell.

Herself. I...

didn't mean to interrupt your dancing.

An act of mercy.

Thomas is a good friend and a brave man,

but a dancer he's not.

Extraordinary.

You look as though you might have ridden with Cúchulainn,

or sailed with Theseus.

Only in my dreams.

And, sometimes, in books like yours.

Your writing has helped me through dark times.

You've touched me...

made me think.

I just wanted...

to tell you.

To thank you.

Come.

Thank me outside.

Masks make life so interesting.

Under all those feathers, you could be anyone.

A childhood friend, an old lover...

Come on now, help me out, am I getting warm?

I'm afraid not.

A famous writer, then?

You're getting colder. I tripped over

my own sword again, is it?

The butler's the real pirate, I... I slipped him a ten-spot

to tell me what the guest of honor was wearing.

Well, I don't think you'll be getting a refund.

Brigit is also wearing an owl mask.

Consider it money well spent.

I'm Donald Pratt.

Catherine Chandler.

Well, Catherine Chandler, shall I run up the Jolly Roger

and steal you away for this dance?

Why not?

BRIGIT: The night has a special magic to it,

don't you think?

This night especially.

Halloween.

In the old religion, they called it Samhain.

It's the night

when the walls 'tween the worlds grow thin,

and spirits of the underworld walk the earth.

A night of masks and balefires,

when anything is possible and nothing is quite as it seems.

Your city has its own magic, as well.

(traffic passing, horns honking)

The lights, towers...

Listen to it.

In Derry, the night has a darker music.

(siren wailing in distance)

Bombs... gunfire...

...the screams of dying men.

Yet you always return.

Oh, I've thought of leaving.

But Derry's my home

and whatever else I might be,

I'm still a Bogside girl, and me father's daughter,

and me husband Ian's widow.

When you wrote of Ian in 300 Days...

...I almost felt as though I knew him.

You made him live again, with your words.

It's been two years since he got into that car,

and not an hour has passed that I haven't spoken of him,

written of him, thought of him.

I don't want to waken painful memories.

No, it hurts,

it hurts...

...but it's such a sweet pain.

Ian and I were born six streets apart

and yet, in different worlds.

A stiff-necked Orangeman and a Croppy girl from Bogside,

we were.

Daft enough to fall in love, but not so big a pair of fools

that we thought he could live in my world, or me in his.

So we tried to create a new world

that we could share together.

Well, you know how that ended.

It could've been me, you know.

There are times...

...I wish it had been.

(lively jazz playing, people laughing)

Your invitation, sir.

Invitation?!

I have it here somewhere.

Damn, you know, I think I must've lost it somewhere.

but I did have one, I swear.

I'm afraid I can't admit you without an invitation, sir.

I just told you I was invited here.

Are you calling me a liar now?

Mr. Brennan's instructions were quite firm.

Uh, perhaps I should summon him. Uh...

MICHAEL: No, no, no, uh...

I just remembered where I left it.

The very place.

I'll, uh, go and get it and then I'll be back.

BUTLER: Very good, sir. HENRY XIII: Let's go, ladies.

Come on.

Good evening.

HENRY XIII: Come on.

All right. Thanks.

(jazz playing)

I can't be that bad of a dancer.

Oh, I'm sorry. I...

I'm just not very good company at the moment.

I'll be the judge of that.

He's a lucky rogue.

Who?

Whoever the hell you're looking for.

CHARLES (Southern accent): Don't I know you from somewhere?

Having a good time tonight?

Who could this be?

I'm sorry, uh,

Donald... Pratt? Mm.

This is my father, Charles Chandler.

Donald Pratt? Not...

Not the Donald Pratt of Bender, Sachs, and Pratt, surely.

Actually, yes.

CHARLES: I never dreamed you were so young.

Al Prasker, one of my partners, is still nursing his wounds

over the licking you gave him

over the Scott case.

Oh, Catherine, be careful of this one.

He's not as harmless as he seems.

How do you two happen to know each other?

Well, actually we don't but, uh,

I am trying to rectify that.

BRIGIT: Father used to tell me of New York

when I was just a little girl.

He came here a dozen times.

Never quite legally, of course.

Raising money for the cause,

collecting for the widows and the orphans,

and the weapons...

to make more of them.

He always promised

that one day, he'd take me across the ocean with him.

One day.

He never did?

My father cast me out.

It was three years ago.

My wedding day.

He came to the church...

called me a traitor...

and an Orangeman's whore.

Then I've not seen him since.

By rights, I ought to hate him.

You have no hate in you... only grief.

Aye.

How can you hate the man who taught you what love meant?

You cold?

Cold? No.

Why, it's naught but a brisk fall evening.

But I'd borrow your cloak, if you're willing to lend it.

My cloak?

Thomas and the others,

they'd give their lives for me, and I love them for it.

But sometimes, I want nothing more than to just get away

from them for a few hours.

They're only trying to keep you safe.

Oh! I'm sick unto death of safety.

Oh, I look at the city and...

I want to touch it.

To walk its streets,

meet its people and listen to its music.

I want to see all the things my father told me of

and I can't.

Can you imagine how that feels?

Yes.

To hell with the risks.

Sometimes we must leave our safe places, Vincent,

and walk empty-handed among our enemies.

(music ends, guests applaud)

(band strikes up jaunty new song)

Excuse me.

(chuckling): Hey, wait...

Wait!

Oh, Brigit O'Donnell, right?

Something very strange is going on,

and I'm going to find out what.

C-Could you hold that for me, for just a minute?

Look, Donald, I'm very sorry.

I don't mean to be rude, but this is very...

Damn it!

Oh, no, whoa, whoa! There's no problem.

We pirates, uh...

we, we can find stairs.

Come on.

(siren wailing, horns honking)

DOORMAN: Evening.

Hello.

Are you ready? (gasps)

Have you seen a woman with red hair and a black cloak?

Oh, yeah, sure.

Looker like that, I'd have to be dead not to notice.

She met a guy in a cat mask.

Where did they go?

Off into the park,

uh, north, I think.

I have to go after them.

Look, it's a personal thing; I appreciate your help,

but there's no need for you to leave the party.

I'm not complaining, but I can't let you go off into the park all alone.

No, really... Hasn't anybody ever warned you

about things that go bump in the night?

Donald, I...

While we're talking, they're getting away.

I'm beholden to you, Vincent.

You cannot know what this means to me.

Or perhaps you can, at that.

Will you be telling me of her, then?

Of who?

Your lady.

The one who's breaking your heart.

Ah, you didn't come to me

just to say you liked me books.

Something about Ian and me struck close to home.

She brings me...

such joy...

and such pain...

as I have never known.

I have no place in her world,

she has none in mine.

Our bond endangers everything.

People I love, secrets I am sworn to keep,

beliefs I've lived by.

Aye, that sounds like Ian and me, sure enough.

They don't understand, do they?

Father raged.

Yet you went on, despite everything.

Oh, yes, we went on until he died for it.

Are you asking me for counsel, then?

Forget you ever knew her and you'll both be happier.

You wrote that the price of your love had been high,

but that you would pay it willingly,

until the end of your days,

that you would change nothing, regret nothing.

That's damned unfair of you, you know,

quoting me own words back at me again,

after I gave you all that good advice.

The brain tells you all the sensible things to do,

but the heart knows nothing about sense,

and the heart is as stubborn as the Irish.

What is it?

(roaring)

(grunts)

(Vincent snarling)

What the hell?!

CATHERINE: Is he...

He's out cold, but he'll live.

It's just maybe a concussion.

Well, Brigit O'Donnell, I presume.

What happened to the other guy?

He had promises to keep,

but I'm thinking he'd rather have stayed.

Brigit, what happened here?

Are you all right?

I'm fine, but it's not for the want of this man... trying.

What?

Do you know him?

Him and his sort, I've known all my life.

Michael McPhee is his name.

He's one of the boys.

A good IRA man.

CATHERINE: As long as you're all right.

I guess we better call the police.

No need.

Actually, I think I can handle it

from here, thank you.

You?! Yes.

I'm afraid I haven't been quite honest with you, Cathy.

Interpol...

I thought your father was going to blow my cover

for a while there, back at the party.

All that lawyer talk.

My apologies, Mrs. O'Donnell.

We received a tip

that an attempt would be made on your life.

I was supposed to stay close by you,

but, unfortunately...

I just got hooked up with the wrong owl.

Perfectly all right.

All owls look alike by night.

Evidence.

Have to be thorough.

We'll drop you off back at the party.

No reason why everyone's Halloween should be ruined.

Oh, no.

I'll see it through.

As long as the masks are coming off,

I'm with the District Attorney's Office.

Are you?

Well, this is a night for surprises.

If you'll keep an eye on sleeping beauty here,

I'll go bring my car around.

(subway train passing in distance)

VINCENT: Father.

Lana told me you'd returned.

(rhythmic clanking echoes from distance)

Am I, uh, disturbing you?

No.

Well, did you find Brigit?

Yes... and so did a man with a gun.

She's given so much and gotten only violence...

and grief and pain.

How can they hate so?

Sometimes, during my first few years in the tunnels,

I would lie awake at night, wondering...

...if what I'd done was right.

I was... full of such anger.

I wanted to avenge all the wrongs I'd suffered.

And yet you never went back up.

No.

If I had, I think my anger would've consumed me.

(Michael groaning)

He's coming to.

(Michael gasps)

Where... oh!

Oh, my head hurts something fierce.

You ought to be grateful it's still attached

to your shoulders, Michael McPhee.

Don't take that tone with me, woman.

You know I wouldn't harm you.

Damn it all, it was Sean himself who sent me.

(scoffs)

And am I supposed to care?

He made it quite clear he does not have a daughter.

He's dying, girl.

MICHAEL: There's not much time left to him.

He wants to see you again.

He sent me to you.

Aye, that he did... with a gun in your hand.

My own flesh and blood.

What did I ever do to make him hate me so?

MICHAEL: You've got it all wrong, girl.

It wasn't you I was after.

It was that fellow that was with you.

The fellow in the black hood and lion head.

What?! Vincent?!

He was a friend.

MICHAEL: A murdering Orangeman's what he was.

We had the word, girl.

It's Sean they're after,

and they don't have a lot of love for you, either.

I was to keep you safe

and bring you secretly to your father.

Wait a minute, we're supposed to be headed downtown.

This isn't... (tires screeching)

The best thing about Croppies,

they're as stupid as they are ugly.

What's wrong?

Catherine.

Don't do it, Donald.

Put down the gun.

Don't let this get out of hand.

Do you remember William Harland?

A lying, murdering, Orange bastard he was.

DONALD: You and your lads,

you didn't even have the courage to face him

when you gunned him down.

You waited until he was good and drunk,

and you caught him leaving the pub.

That's no more than he'd done for better men than him.

All right, stop it, both of you.

Donald, you don't need to do this.

Turn him over to the police.

He'll pay for his crime.

Aye, he'll pay for it, sure enough.

It's no use, Catherine.

You can't talk sense to them...

to any of them.

It's like a sickness now,

and there's not a drop of human decency

left in the lot of them.

Shut up.

I've heard enough of your damned pious speeches.

Empty your pockets.

Michael, do as he says.

(coins rattle)

(coins, keys clattering)

Hm.

My name is Jamie Harland.

William was my brother.

There were three of them that killed him.

I got the first one a year ago.

Michael McPhee, here.

You're the second.

You might say you're sort of a bonus.

But it was the other one I was hoping she'd lead me to.

Your brother is dead.

You won't bring him back with murder.

(shouting): I'm no murderer!

This is an execution!

For Ulster and Billy!

No!

No!

(Brigit crying)

Damn you to hell.

We're going for a ride.

You. Drive.

Where are you taking us?

To pay a visit

to a gentleman of the name Sean O'Reilly.

Who I'm thinking might just be staying

at a certain hotel.

Ill, too.

Ah, but maybe a visit from his loving daughter

will cheer him up.

(coughing weakly)

(door unlocks)

Michael?

Brigit.

JAMIE: Very touching.

Brings a tear to me eye, it does.

And who the hell might you be?

Where's Michael?

JAMIE: Burning in hell, old man,

where you'll be joining him soon.

Jamie, look at him.

He's just an old man.

I'm still strong enough to spit

on the likes of him.

Go on, do your worse.

(laughs): I'm dying, anyway.

(coughs)

JAMIE: Oh, you'll die soon enough.

But not until you've seen your daughter

die before you.

No. No.

Never.

Never.

It's me you want, not her.

SEAN: Show mercy.

I'll show her the same mercy you showed Billy.

(cocking gun)

(yells)

(grunts)

(gunshot)

Back off, now.

I may be dying,

but at least I'll take one more

murdering Orangeman with me

before I go.

Father, no.

I'm sorry girl, but it's got to be done.

He's no better than his brother.

Murdering scum.

It was his sort killed your mother.

Yes.

And it was your sort that killed Ian.

Get out of my way.

It has to stop.

Do as I tell you, girl.

I'm your father.

Are you now?

Well, that's news to me.

Go on, if you're so

bound and determined to kill him.

What's one more body?

Think what a fine hero I'll be, once I'm dead.

Go on!

What are you waiting for?!

I'm nothing to you!

Go on! Shoot!

JAMIE: Come on, Brigit, darling...

...we're leaving this party.

I'll find you again, old man.

(Jamie yells)

(Vincent growls)

Brigit!

(Vincent growls, Jamie yells)

(gently): Brigit.

(siren wailing)

Party's over.

(indistinct radio communication)

OFFICER: Easy. In you go.

(siren wailing)

I can arrange for you

to stay with your father at the hospital,

if you like.

Brigit... you know that...

That there are warrants out on the man

and he must be arrested? Yes.

I've lived with that since I was six years old.

We won't have much time together.

Not even 300 days.

But we must take what we're given.

300 days... a few months...

Or a single night.

(car door opens and closes)

Will she...?

She'll be all right.

Good.

Don't leave.

She told me...

that this is a special night.

Samhain.

When the walls...

When the walls between the worlds grow thin...

...and spirits of the underworld walk the earth.

Vincent... we can't waste it.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

I've lived here all my life...

...and yet, it's as though I've never seen the city.

Until tonight.

You've seen so much of the violence

and hatred of my world.

I wanted you to know that there's beauty, as well.

Oh... I know that.

Ever since the night I found you, Catherine.

What the...?!

Oh, geez!

You gave me a real scare.

Hey, man, Halloween was yesterday.

I must go.

♪ ♪

CC Extracted by: MrLifestyles