1
First light.
Ianto Jones is running across a meadow, flushed and breathless; the cuffs of his plain, black slacks soaked with dew. He carries a coat and has a small bag of belongings over his shoulder.
He trips, falls to his knees; looks back. Expressive eyes, open features. He is desperate. We see the house he is running from; a Jacobean battlemented mansion.
His need to escape is so great that he crawls forward until he is able to raise himself to his feet.
He runs.
He reaches an antique stile by a brook. he lifts himself on to it. He lands on the road.
And runs.
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The sun is higher in the sky. Ianto exhausted, now running down a main road. His spirits lift at the sight of an approaching coach. He flags it down.
Ianto empties his pockets into the driver's hand. He looks at the money then suspiciously back at him. A terse nod indicates he can get in.
Ianto sinks into a dark corner. His fellow passengers look shocked by his dishevelled appearance at such an early hour. He undertakes a tremendous effort not to betray his emotional state. He doesn't sob, he doesn't howl - although his breathing threatens to. Slowly, unable to bear the day, he closes his eyes.
Sunset.
A whitewashed, stone pillar set up where four roads meet on a barren moor. The coach driver opens the door. With a curt nod he indicates that Ianto must get out.
He looks around, dismayed. In each direction there is open moorland for as far as the eye can see. The driver sets off at a good pace - glad to be rid of such a passenger. Ianto puts his hand to his side for his bag of belongings. It is not there.
He runs as fast as he can after the coach. It is receding towards the horizon. he comes to a halt, objectless, lost, alone. He pulls his knitted coat around him.
He leaves the road and sets off across the moor, into the gathering dark.
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Ianto is on his knees by a strange overhanging rock. The night sky is awesome; the universe is all around him. He is trying to calm himself with a prayer.
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Day.
Ianto lies on a great rock, soaking up the heat of the sun. He is like someone numb with pain. He watches a lizard crawl over the rock. He is mesmerised.
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Ianto squats in the heather and eats bilberries as the light fades. he hungrily licks the juice from his hand.
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Dawn
Ianto is asleep in the heather, his coat wrapped around him. A red-haired child in a white nightgown lies by his side, watching him. It is Kai Burns.
Kai reaches out. She touches Ianto's hand. Ianto wakes. He sits up. He is alone.
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Ianto is crouched on a rock watching the waters go by. The sky is overcast. The first big drops of rain land on the stones. Ianto makes no movement.
A raven lands on a rock nearby. Ianto is suddenly filled with a wild rage. He picks up a stone and hurls it at the bird with a raw cry. The gesture exhausts him. He watches the bird wheel away, as the rain starts to pour.
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Twilight
It is raining hard. Ianto sees a small girl come out of the farm with some leftovers. She drops them into a pigpen.
Ianto is leaning into the pigpen. He picks a stiffened mound of porridge out of the mud. He lets the rain wash it. He eats it ravenously.
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Next day
It has stopped raining. Ianto is huddled under a tree. He is shaking, shuddering. The life has gone out of his eyes.
The moors rise away above him to the horizon. Ianto looks up at the sun starting to set. The clouds are red and gold.
He sees a small red-haired girl in a white nightgown walking barefoot on the moors ahead of him. The girl turns, looks back at Ianto. With his last strength, Ianto follows.
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Dark clouds are banking up; the rain starts again. Ianto is struggling through a marsh. His boots are stuck.
He falls. His hand disappears into mud; his face pressed against the earth. He doesn't move. He has reached the point of despair.
The girl's bare feet walk close by, as if waiting for him. Ianto looks up. Where the child should be, he sees a light shining across the moor. Ianto starts crawling.
Ianto is toiling on through the lashing rain towards the light. It has become a window. A brief flash of lightning shows him a low stone cottage. Kai Burns is sitting on the gate.
Ianto is crawling through the narrow garden. On his knees, he peers through a window.
On either side of a bright little fire sit two young women. They look exactly like Ianto; slight, neat, dressed in black. One, Diana, has her hair slightly curled and hides her gentle eyes behind spectacles. The other, Mary, is very young; no more than seventeen. Each has a book on her knee. They are talking intimately.
They look so close, so loving and the room looks so cosy that it pains Ianto considerably.
Ianto knocking at the door. Cheryse, an old servant answers. She is suspicious; Ianto looks like a wretch.
"What do you want?"
Ianto manages to find his voice. "Shelter."
"I can't take in vagrants. Here's a penny. Now take it and go."
"I have no strength to go." Ianto is stunned, staring at the outstretched hand with a penny already being offered.
"You can move off. And if there are others with you tell them we are not alone. We have a gentleman here, and dogs." Cheryse flaps a tea towel at him.
"But I must die if I am turned away."
The door slams shut. Ianto lets out a hopeless wail. "God help me. I will die."
He turns away, his hope gone. As he collapses, he finds himself supported by a strong pair of black-clad arms.
"All of God's creatures must die. But not prematurely - and not on my doorstep I hope."
Ianto is lifted up. he finds himself looking into the face of the handsomest man he has ever seen; Stan-Lee Rivers. He lifts him over the threshold into the warmth of Moor House.
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A fire is roaring in the stove. Cheryse is bent over it.
"We've had a beggar come, Mr Rivers. I sent him... For shame!" Cheryse falls silent as she sees Ianto.
"You did your duty in excluding him. Let me do mine in admitting him" He sets Ianto down before the hearth. He can barely stand. He is soaked to the bone, filthy with mud. His skin has a ghastly pallor. Diana and Mary enter.
"Stan-Lee, who is it?" Diana asks softly.
"I don't know; I found him at the door." He replies as he tries to comfort the bedraggled young man.
Guiltily Cheryse admits "I thought him one of the gypsies from the cross."
"He's as white as death." Mary whispers with concern.
Ianto can hold himself up no longer. Diana moves forward. She and Stan-Lee catch Ianto and help him into a chair. The rain hammers on the windows.
"Cheryse, some water." Diana asks.
"He's worn to nothing. He looks like a spectre. Stan-Lee, if you hadn't taken him in, we would have fallen upon his dead body in the morning." Diana sighs.
"He's no vagrant; I'm sure of it." Stan-Lee agrees.
"There's milk and bread for you." Cheryse bustles back in. Ianto tries to mouth his thanks. he sips the milk. Eats a mouthful of bread. Diana kneels at his side.
"Ask him his name."
"I - I am I –"Ianto cannot speak. He's incapable of uttering his own name. He hears John Reid's voice calling from far away.
"Ianto Jones!"
"Please, tell us how we may help you." Diana pleads.
"Can we send for anyone? Who are your people?" Stan-Lee asks.
The questions are deeply troubling to Ianto. He is losing consciousness.
He sees an image of a small girl of ten, running away through a great darkening room. Ianto tries to follow her. The action draws him up out of the kitchen chair.
He hears John Reid's voice again. "Ianto Jones! Where are you?"
Ianto, panicked, looking for somewhere to hide, passes out.