The Amelia Project - Episode 3 - Elizabeth Barlow

Episode Date: January 3, 2018

“Do you mind if I smoke?"  Episode 3, Season 1. The Amelia Project is a secret agency that helps its clients by faking their deaths and setting them up with a brand new identity! In this episode reality a wealthy woman with an ambitious plan enters the agency… Can The Amelia Project fulfil her demands?  Featuring Alan Burgon, Samantha Lawson and Christine Thorne. Written by Philip Thorne and Oystein Ulsberg Brager. Music and sound design by Fredrik Baden. Produced by Imploding Fictions. For full credits see our website. Content warning: this episode contains mentions of suicide. Website: https://ameliapodcast.com  Transcripts: https://ameliapodcast.com/transcripts Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Donations: https://ameliapodcast.com/support Twitter: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast The Amelia Project is part of the Fable & Folly Network. Find and support our sponsors at: fableandfolly.com/partners Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Summer's here, and you can now get almost anything you need delivered with Uber Eats. What do we mean by almost? You can't get a well-groomed lawn delivered, but you can get chicken parmesan delivered. Sunshine? No. Some wine? Yes. Get almost, almost anything delivered with Uber Eats. Order now. Alcohol and select markets. See app for details.

Summer is like a cocktail. It has to be mixed just right. Start with a handful of great friends. Now, add your favorite music. And then, finally, add Bacardi Rum. And there you have it. The perfect summer mix. Bacardi.

Do what moves you. Live passionately. Drink responsibly. Copyright 2024. Bacardi, its trade dress and the bat device are trademarks of Bacardi and Company Limited. Rum 40% alcohol by volume. Congratulations. You've reached the Amelia Project. This phone call isn't happening.

If you're not serious about this, hang up. Now. You sure about this? If you hesitated, do not proceed. Still there? If you continue, there's no way back. The choice is yours. Good choice.

A new life awaits. You'll hear back from us within the hour. If you do not hear back, please consider the whole thing a hoax. Leave your message after the beep. Gosh, what an introduction. Very mysterious. Am I supposed to be scared, is that it? Anyway, I hear you're the best, and that's what I want. Prove it. Prove you're the best.

I have a job for you. No need to go into specifics, not yet. That'll wait until we meet. This is just to say I'm here. I'm serious. I can pay. Show me you're real and serious, too. Deal? Call me. The Amelia Project by Philip Thorne and Oystein Braga with music and sound design by Frederick Barden. Episode 3

Elizabeth Barlow It's go time. Ah, welcome. I've been expecting you. Do you mind if I smoke? Go for it. Do you mind if I blow bubbles? Excuse me?

It helps me think. Right. Congratulations. What for? One in a million find our number. More than half hang up before the beep. We get back to about one in ten. I see.

So why me? Hmm. Time will tell. You're odd. Good odd? Odd odd. This isn't what I was expecting. What were you expecting? I don't know. Something elite. Something big and fancy. Wow! Did you see that bubble? Sorry. Yes. Elite. Fancy. Good, good, good. You won't be disappointed. Shall we get down to business? That would be nice.

Just some official bits and bobs before the fun begins. Name? Elizabeth. You have a surname? Barlow. Married? Your husband cheated on you. Well done, Sherlock. Is that why you're here?

Yes. What? Security! Security! Excuse me, what the... Show Mrs. Barlow the way out, would you? It was a sincere sensation. Must do it again sometime. Now, out you hop. Cheerio!

Put down that baseball bat or I'll taser the shit out of you! Bravo, bravo, Mrs. Barlow. That was excellent. This is mad. Joey? Joey? Salvatore, you can leave. Oh, and bring me a cup of cocoa. Would you like anything, Elizabeth?

Can I call you Elizabeth? Yes. And no, I don't need a drink. I'm fine. What was that about? Sorry. I thought you weren't Amelia Material. I was wrong. Sit back down. What do you mean not Amelia Mater... Oh, I can pay. Didn't I make that clear? Money's not an issue. Money's good. Money's a start. A start? What else do you want? You know, Kierkegaard, boredom is the root of all evil. I refuse to be bored. Most people who want to disappear are so boring.

Small-time crooks and people trying to cash in on their life insurance. So dull. I don't waste my time with that kind of thing. I only take on cases that capture my imagination. It seems you're bringing me a domestic squabble and, well, they're usually so boring. You'll hear me out anyway. I promise I'll make it interesting. You'll find me a very demanding customer. Ah, Salvatore, grazie mille. Elizabeth Barlow. You fascinate me. Tell me your story. I'm all ears.

It was Rupert's 40th, and I organised a surprise party. I invited everyone we know. Family, friends, neighbours, colleagues. Rupert didn't have a clue. He's on his way home and I tell the guests to be quiet. I call him in his car and put him on speakerphone so the guests can hear. Rupert, honey, I'm so sorry. I've been called out for work. Won't be back until late. You're going to have to spend your birthday evening alone. There's fresh lasagne in the fridge and a bottle of Pinot Noir. I'll make it up to you, I promise. I hang up and we all run into the hallway to take up our positions, streamers and champagne at the ready, waiting for the door to open. We wait. And wait. And wait. What on earth has happened to him? Has he had an accident?

I'm scared sick. Hardly dare make the call. When I do, he picks up immediately. Sounds cheerful. What are you doing, I ask. Oh, just chilling on the sofa watching QI. The lasagna is excellent. Then I noticed everyone staring at me. The speakerphone was still on. Well, stuff me like an olive. That is embarrassing.

Embarrassing? It's more than embarrassing. He humiliated me in front of everyone I know. What did you do? I sent him a text. Get the fuck home. Twenty minutes later, the door opens and we chuck streamers and confetti. You went ahead with the party? An excruciating five hours of pretending everything was okay.

Grinning, toasting, celebrating Rupert. Throw this cup. What? Why? It'll make you feel better. No. Oh. She's called Tiffany. 26.

A junior analyst at Goldman's. They're getting married. Okay. Give it here. Nice throw. Thanks. Do you want the pot too? Do you know what the most insulting thing is?

The day we signed the divorce papers, he bought me a Lamborghini. Which is bad because... He wants to stay friends. Thinks he can buy himself out of being an arsehole. A Lamborghini is a Lamborghini. Oh, please. I'm sure it hardly made a dent in his bonus. He's not letting me keep the house. He's not that generous. I have to be out by the end of the month. Make space for Tiffany.

At the moment you're in the house and he's with Tiffany? Yes. And he wants to be friends? Yes. Hmm. How can we help? Everything in his life is so easy. I want to shake him out of his

complacency. Make him suffer. I want him to see me die a horrible, messy death. I want him to realise he die a horrible, messy death. I want him to realise he can't pay his way out of this one. Some things have consequences. In that case, may I suggest suicide?

Yes. Suicide is good. How about an overdose of tranquilisers? You call him and tell him to come over immediately. He finds you unconscious on the bathroom floor. Joey and Salvatore burst in posing as paramedics. We'll be waiting right outside, in a van, and have your stomach pumped in no time. We'll tell your husband you died. We'll say it was painful. I was thinking perhaps something nastier.

Well, an overdose can be pretty nasty. Lots of vomiting. I don't want to vomit. Hanging? You could dangle outside your husband's office window. Goldman's Tower has a nice parapet. Good to hang a rope from. You knock on the window, he looks up and sees you

there dangling by the neck. Salvatore cuts the rope and you plummet. The parachute opens at the very last second. Joey waits down at the bottom with the van. Could work, but I think we can go nastier. Tell him you want to stay friends. Arrange to meet at a fancy restaurant. Smash your wine glass and use the shards to slash your wrists. Joey and Salvatore dine at the next table. They'll whisk you off to the van to get a transfusion. But make sure you get blood all over the table and your husband first. Nastier.

Well, hmm. Ooh, ask him to come round and put up some shelves in your new place. It's the least he can do after evicting you. Grab the drill and put it to your head. Or better, shoot yourself with his nail gun. He won't forget that.

All these ideas make me look desperate. I don't want it to look like I'm acting on some crazy whim. It has to be cool-headed. A conscious choice. I want to be in the driver's seat. Hmm. I do have an idea.

Yes? It might be impossible. For Amelia, nothing is impossible. I arrive at Tiffany's house. In the Lamborghini. I attach a long chain around the tree in the driveway. I attach the other end of the chain around my neck. I ring the doorbell.

I get back into the car. As soon as he answers the door, I wave and put my foot on the accelerator. Decapitation. Impossible? Not at all. Ripping your head off actually makes our life much easier. A mangled head means the replacement corpse only has to match your body from the neck down. Our guy at the mortuary shouldn't have any difficulties

with that. It's the head that's always the trickiest to fake. And you can get me out of the Lamborghini in time. It won't be you in there in the first place. Once you've rung the bell, you come over to the van. We'll be parked just outside the drive posing as plumbers. You can watch your husband come out and enjoy his reaction. Excellent. Congratulations, you've reached the ad break. Want to know who's left a message? Then don't hang up. Hello, this is Philip, co-creator of the Amelia Project, and I need to disappear. I'm in my wardrobe and they're after me.

The bills are piling up. Actors and technicians' invoices, hosting fees, studio rental costs. Pip! Philip! Come out wherever you are. Where are you? That's Julia and Alan and they are pissed off. No use hiding.

If you want to help us cover our costs so I can get out of this wardrobe, please go to AmeliaPodcast.com and click on support the show. You can make a one-off donation or become a patron and get amazing rewards like bonus episodes, episode dedications, a shout out in the credits and buy monthly video live stream Q&As. That's AmeliaPodcast.com and click on support the show. Kinder Surprise just brought out a new range of toys and those eggs won't buy themselves, Pip.

Aha! I think they found me. I think he's in that wardrobe. Help! Your mom hates it when you leave six half full glasses on your nightstand. It's a good thing mom lives

on the other side of the country. And it's an even better thing mom hates it when you leave six half full glasses on your nightstand. It's a good thing mom lives on the other side of the country. And it's an even better thing that you can get six IKEA 365 plus glasses for just $9.99. So go ahead. You can afford to hoard because IKEA is priced for student life. Shop everything you need for back to school at IKEA today. Have you thought about how you'd like to resurface? Of course. We offer a broad range of different disguises and locations. Shall I get the catalogue? I'd like to come back as an investment banker. An investment banker?

More specifically, the CEO of my own company. Okay. You'll need to set me up with a hedge fund of significant value. But I'm sure that's no problem for you, right? It doesn't need to be real. It just needs to look impressive. I'll have a chat with Alvina and see what she's able to fake. But, um, why?

You said you wanted a challenge. Yes, we do. But normally we set people up with inconspicuous identities. Somewhere they can blend in. This is hardly low-key. I know, but it's the only way I can recruit Rupert. Sorry? I'm going to headhunt Rupert.

I'll lose my head so that I can hunt his. Hmm. Explain. I'll lure him away from Goldman's to work privately for me. Then I'll fire him. I'll watch his head roll as I discredit him to Goldman's and circulate articles to every investment publication in existence about his utter incompetence. Whoever calls me for a reference will hear just what a dreadful job he does.

They'll believe he hasn't got a clue what he's doing. And Goldman's won't touch him with a yard pole. He'll never work again. Now, just to be clear, we can arrange your death. We can take care of your reappearance as an investment banker. Impressive resume, new looks, the whole shebang. But after that, Amelia is no longer responsible. We can't organise Rupert's undoing for you. Just set me up as I've said. The right

CV and all the connections. And I'll take care of the rest. You sound confident. Rupert will be pouring filter coffees at some soulless cafe faster than you can say, flat white, and once he's no longer a rich, middle-aged man. He's just a middle-aged man. Tiffany will dump him for someone wealthier before the week is over, and I'll get both my revenge and a great new career while I'm at it. Something tells me you're going to be very good at this.

Like you, I enjoy a challenge. Elizabeth Barlow, it's a pleasure doing business with you. Let's get planning right away. When do I meet this Alvina person you said would help me with the hedge fund? Hang on, hang on, hang on.

There's still the matter of payment. Well, I could just write you a cheque. Cheques are fine. I could do that. Otherwise we also accept cash, card payments and bank transfers. Let's talk real investment talk. What about assets? That's not usually how...

But you'd consider it? Well, if the value of the assets is... About two and a half million? That would work. Good. Here are the keys to our house. Front door, side entrance and conservatory. These are the codes. If you enter using the front door, the control panel is on your right, just behind the Ming Dynasty vase. You have 15 seconds to type in the code before the alarm goes off, so be quick. Here's a swipe card for the garage. Rupert's Ferrari is at Tiffany's, but the Bentley and the Jaguars are all there. The wine cellar leaves off just from the garage, but don't waste your time with that. The investment wines, the Margot and the Chateau

Lafitte are kept in the cooler in the living room. You'll need a coat to open that. Here you go. There's also a display cabinet in the living room with a rather fine Wedgwood collection and a complete Roger Pilkington set. It's unique and very fragile, so not a job for Joey and Salvatore, I'd suggest. We don't have much to offer on the art front, I'm afraid, but there are some boccionis, which are quite nice, and a Paul Klee, which is ghastly, but Rupert has assured me it's ridiculously expensive. Don't forget to strip the beds.

The sheets and covers are custom-designed Springfield. Make sure you don't just go for the obvious stuff, the 152-inch plasma, the Bang & Olufsen speakers, Maria Theresa chandeliers, but also the small things. Fittings can be surprisingly valuable. We recently had all the doorknobs, handles and light switches replaced. Some of that stuff clears a tidy sum, which reminds me, you wouldn't believe how much the hydrenders in the greenhouse are worth. Out of this world, I suggest you take a look. Are you making notes? I don't want you to forget anything. The session is being recorded. Why? We keep an archive of all our

clients. As long as it's under wraps. Of course. The address. 16 Arkwright Avenue, Richmond. I want Rupert to come back to a house that's been stripped right down to the last exclusively sourced designer lightbulb. At Amelia, your every wish is our command. Perfect. I'm looking forward to this one. Your case is most amusing. I'll be outside Tiffany's house at 10am tomorrow, 22 Bassett Street, Belsize Park. We'll be there in the van. Don't be late.

Don't have second thoughts. I won't. Good. What if I do? What? Have second thoughts. But you Don't be late. Don't have second thoughts. I won't. Good. What if I do? What? Have second thoughts. But you won't? No.

Good. But in theory? Theory is so boring. Who wants to waste their time with theory? I have no patience for theory. Anyway, it's time to celebrate. Is it? Yes.

A toast to your death. Can we toast to my reappearance instead? If you prefer. I think I would. Joey, if you're conscious, bring us two flutes for the champagne, please. Oh, champagne. Oh, and don't worry. I'll make sure the lady doesn't hurt you. You made quite the impression on them.

I don't think you're supposed to shake Now would be a good time to put your fingers in your ears One, two, watch it Oops Scusi per favore A glass of bubbly Now those are the kind of bubbles I can get on board with. Cheers. To a new beginning.

To a new beginning. The Amelia Project is produced by Imploding Fictions, in association with Open House Theatre Vienna. This episode featured Alan Bergen as the interviewer, Samantha Lawson as Elizabeth, Julia Morizawa on the answerphone and additional voice work by Christine Thorne. It was written by Philip Thorne, directed by Philip Thorne and Einstein Braga and edited by Philip Thorne and Phil Anderson-Dyer. Thank you. attributions can be found on our website. A massive thank you to Phil and Ali Anderson-Dyer of Bunbury Banter Theatre Company for audio consultancy. And thank you to Zirach Lotz for providing sandwiches. Buttermilk pancakes or crepes? Honey, I said buttermilk pancakes or crepes?

Surprise me, darling. Rightio, surprise coming up. Oh, shoot. I hope you still make it. Don't worry, I'll get it. The Fable and Folly Network, where fiction producers flourish.