The Lamb to the Slaughter
Storyboard Text
- Her first instinct was not to believe any of it, to reject it all. It occurred to her that perhaps he hadn't even spoken, that she herself had imagined the whole thing. Maybe, if she went about her business and acted as though she hadn't been listening, then later, when she sort of woke up again, she might find none of it had ever happened.
- Mary Maloney was waiting for her husband to come home. "Hullo Darling," she said. "Hullo Darling," he replied. "Tired darling?" "Listen," he said. "I've got something to tell you." "What is it, darling? what's the matter?" "So there it is," he added.
- The Lamb to the Slaughter
- "I'll get the supper," she managed to whisper, and this time he didn't stop her. Everything was automatic now- down the steps to the cellar, the light switch, the deep freeze, the hand inside the cabinet taking hold of the first object it met. She lifted it out, and looked at it. It was wrapped in paper, so she took off the paper and looked at it again. A leg of lamb. All right then, they would have lamb for supper. She carried it upstairs, holding the thin bone-end of it with both her hands, and as she went through the living room, she saw him standing over by the window with his back to her, and she stopped. "For God's sake," he said, hearing her, but not turning round. "Don't make supper for me. I'm going out." At that point, Mary Maloney simply walked up behind him and without any pause she swung the big frozen leg of lamb high in the air and brought it down as hard as she could on the back of his head. She might just as well have hit him with a steel club.
- A few minutes later she got up and went to the phone. She knew the number to the police station, and when the man at the other end answered, she cried to him, "Quick! Come quick! Patrick's dead!"
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